Twenty-four hours on, this is where we are: Poofy, shoulder-popping sleeve of doom. How can that be a uniform sleeve?
Well, Pilgrim, this is how:
So glad I have that near-feral hunting shirt, because without it I would have ripped this out completely. Could the Poof of Doom be there to allow movement?
Subject was detained for photography.
Arm out, doubts remain. Arm down, less terrifying.
It’s possible that the poof at the apogee of the shoulder is due to the intense pressing I gave this to retain the center line, and the fact that, despite washing, the linen is still pretty stiff. When I compare the two– the completed shirt and the in-progress shirt, I can see that while both display a tendency to drift up, the gathers on the adjutant’s shirt are more evenly distributed. You know what that means…and that’s why the sleeve is only basted in. Might as well change it now as on Sunday, because it must be done. So in the end, I am ripping it out completely, but with the knowledge that 1) the upward angle seems to be correct as shown in the finished garment, and 2) evening out gathers may reduce the Poof of Doom.