It is not often that you stumble across discussion of the merits of French seams when sewing lace on primetime telly. Nor the perils of making your corset’s boning channels millimetres too wide. And definitely not the knack of perfect pleating and pattern matching. It is for all this marvellous technical detailing that I have been particularly enjoying this series of BBC2’s Great British Sewing Bee, which, in this third outing, for the first time feels completely comfortable and confident in its own skin. That it has perfectly relaxed – or perhaps geeked out – into its format at exactly the same moment as the BBC has decided to cut its run from eight to six, seems unfortunate to say the least.
As a result, we have whittled down the competitors at double-quick speed: Ryan and Amanda both booted off for slightly wayward kilts; Paul and Deborah coming unstuck when faced with lace, wetsuits and leather. (Who wouldn’t?) I had wondered if lovely, sunny Deborah might edge her way into the final after her brilliant alteration and neat pencil skirt. I had, however, reckoned without zipgate and the turquoise leather jacket of great ugliness.
Which leaves us with three: Neil, the lieutenant colonel who has proved as commited and precise as his army rank would suggest; charming IT consultant Matt, who also learned to sew in the army (maybe it could launch a fund-raising sideline in weekend craft courses); and gently competitive Lorna, who has somehow commandeered a model who could be her twin, the pair sprinkling elegance (and, apparently, Gaga stage outfits) throughout the workroom.
A week ago, you would have said that Neil would win without breaking a sweat. After the great kilt masterpiece, in which every fold was immaculate, sharply pressed with military rigour, you would have been crazy to bet against him. The man is astonishingly precise. He measures, he cuts, he sews, it fits the model perfectly. Which is what is meant to happen. And so very rarely does.
The glimmer of weakness Neil showed last episode, however, suggests a victory for Lorna or Matt is still possible, if not necessarily probable. If I have an issue with Neil’s creations, it’s that they’re slightly predictable: a slinky skirt, some kind of cut-away neckline or bodice, all darted very close to the torso. Nothing wrong with that – there are a huge number of us who would be very glad indeed to create such faultless garments and at such speed – but it’s just not terribly exciting.
Both Lorna and Matt create clothes that feel either more interesting or more wearable or maybe, admittedly, just more my style. They both sew in a style that I recognise too – slightly more haphazard, and, you imagine, normally at a much slower pace. Which brings me to my biggest irritation with Sewing Bee. It is not Patrick’s weird moustache. Nor Claudia’s ever-more-manic shouting, which functions as a kind of invigorating soundtrack to proceedings. It’s the time limits.
The thing with sewing for pleasure, rather than because you are a professional seamstress trying to earn a living, is that you really don’t want to rush, even if you’re a lazy-to-moderately-good sewer like me. Fabric is expensive and time is precious: it is not always cheaper to knock yourself up a skirt or a frock than buy one from the high street. So you want your handmade garments to be really special. You spend time making a toile, getting a perfect fit, adjusting the pattern, tweaking the design. You handsew a hem, add beautiful facings, make it all as perfect as possible.
None of which, I know, makes for great television. Non-sewers might already find the detailed discussions of how to properly press a dart a bit much, to be honest. (I, of course, rewind them and watch twice). But I’m not sure I see the point of making walkaway dresses with wonky bias binding from unaltered patterns for mannequins. Who cares if the pattern says you can have it made by lunchtime? Much better to have a beautiful dress by dinner time. Even the final day challenge, in which contestants are challenged to create a “made-to-measure” garment, feels like a time trial.
Should Sewing Bee return for another series – and here’s hoping it does, with Claudia as bonkers as ever – just once I’d like to see the contestants produce something lovingly, slowly made that is perfection. I’d like the alteration challenge to be an actual alteration – make this ill-fitting dress look gorgeous – rather than a weird transformation challenge. And I’d like the full eight-week run again please: no need to rush the show along with the clothing - this final has arrived much too soon.
