This dress takes a whole lot of yardage. The front of the dress takes just over two yards of 45" material (about 76" long and 40" wide), and that's just for one half of the front. The train in back adds another foot or so; I opted to cut the back just like the front. As for the sleeves, they're 61" long when folded in half and 28" wide, before the shoulder puffs are put in.

The fabric I used was originally this 90" peachy-cream material I picked up at a $1/lb. fabric sale in Georgia. Originally, that is, until I dumped it all in the washing machine with a little bleach to pre-wash and remove some black grease marks along one selvedge. I forgot to make sure the water setting was on cold (it was on hot), so it ended up a creamy white (perfect color, I think) that looked as if it have been Fortuny pleated, and only about 45" wide. While I'm a bit disappointed at "ruining" the fabric, I think it works just as well as it is. Plus, with the excess, I can make something Greek-flavored.

The pattern pieces weren't difficult to enlarge; I used the grid method described in the front of the book, with Pellon tru-grid. Wonderful stuff.

The day before I planned to cut everything out it occured to me that I had no idea just exactly how much fabric I was going to actually need. (The sketch on the left is the only bit of instructions the pattern has.) Panic mode set in, and I played with a few to scale layouts. Turns out, not only did I have enough fabric if I laid everything out just right, I had about a yard left over, from which I made a hip girdle.

My "fashion" fabric is a bit too sheer to use on its own, so I added a lining of parchment-colored broadcloth, which slightly messed up my plans to use all French seams. After a bit of thinking, I decided to attach the lining to the outer layer at the neckline as if it were a facing, then treat the two layers as one the rest of the time. This way, I get both my French seams and a pretty neckline.

(Note about the lining. It took about 6 yards of broadcloth after I chopped it off about a foot above the bottom of the pattern piece. It's still just at floor-length. I don't plan on lining the sleeves.)

Any pattern that requires you to gather 14" of material down to a width that fits your shoulders (about 5" in my case) is bad news. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I had been working with just one layer of fabric, instead of two. The lining made it really bulky and not that pretty at the shoulders. Although, it's not quite such a big deal since it'll be covered by the corsage. After the shoulders were hand-gathered together, I sewed them between two strips of bias tape to enclose the seams, and also to add strength to the area. Needless to say, my sewing machine was not happy at having to sew through two strips of bias tape and four layers of material. Not pretty seams, but as long as they hold together, oh, well.

While the sleeves are still really long and full, putting in the gathers takes up several inches so they don't drag on the ground. (My [rather large] basting stitches on the outermost line came loose just before we took the picture. That would have taken the sleeve an extra two inches up off the ground.) I thought about changing the angle of the bottom of the sleeve so the point ended higher, but after making my muslin, I decided to just leave it as it is. They don't drag the ground any more, so why not?

When putting my actual sleeves together, I realized I should have gathered them first, then attached them to the body. That would have given me much less fabric to wrestle with when sewing my handgathers down to elastic. (And there is a lot of fabric to wrestle with; this is a very heavy dress.) My elastic isn't very snug, just long enough to go around my bicep plus 5/8" seam allowance on each end. It's main purpose is to keep the gathers in place and provide just enough give that I won't have to worry about them coming loose when putting the dress on. The arm ties are going to be what provides snugness. At least, that's the plan. I also sewed a strip of white ribbon the length of my hand to the shoulder seam and the bottom band of elastic, then spaced the other bands evenly and tacked them in place, so that the sleeves don't keep sliding down my arm from the weight of the fabric.

Another thing I discovered when putting the sleeves together is that they probably should have been gathered where they're attached to the body of the bliaut, as well. As it is, there's a lot of fabric in that area, and it looks odd.

After getting the body sewn up the sides (French seams, of course), I tried it on to see how the sleeves worked out. I decided that the sleeve that was cut in two pieces and not sewn together all the way looked much more like Eowyn's than the "normal" sleeve. (It also was easier to use my hands and arms in.) So, I slit the other sleeve up to an inch below the bottom band of elastic, and rounded out the corners so that it didn't look like I forgot to finish the sleeve. All 188" of sleeve (each) were hand finished with a rolled hem. With my arms down, they still drag the floor, but I can live with that. What I can't live with is the length in front.

I'm really glad I didn't include the train Holkeboer's pattern called for. As it is, I have several inches of material puddling at my feet. Not a very practical Eowyn thing. (If I stand on the edge of my bathtub, the fabric just barely touches the floor.) I trimmed most of that away so it just brushes the ground—I tripped all over it if I didn't pay attention to how I walked—although I kept a tiny bit of a train in back. I just think it looks pretty.