Great British Sewing Bee. Series 2. Week 2

Last week: Basics week - cotton, wool and silk.  Cliff the retired Buddhist prison chaplain said goodbye to the competition, Tamara gypsified a woolen skirt and Julie won out with a purple silk diamante nightie and general northernism.

Claudia says ‘go-deT’ again – in your face, Julien MacDonald.

This week: Pattern week

(That’s material pattern, as opposed to dotted lines and scissor images pattern.  Honestly, imagine if baking was this confusing?)

Turns out we aren’t in Shad Thames, but Wapping – t’other side of the river.  As a committed South Londoner (I tried the North, it wasn’t for me), I’d assumed they’d gone for the superior bank, but there you go.  But Wapping’s ok, so I’m appeased.

1. The Pattern Challenge: a skirt on patterned material with box pleats at the front and back.  “Simon looks nervous” says Claudia.  He also has a floppy fringe this week – he must have left the Brylcreem in Bradford.

This week Julie is dressed as a City Banker, in shirt, tie and braces.  She looks awesome.  Julie is officially my current fav.

Tamara likens matching patterns up to wallpapering.  Uh-oh, warning bells: basically, Mr Cad and I had the biggest, longest, most emotionally fraught and existentialist-est row of our relationship whilst wallpapering – AND THAT WAS PLAIN LINING PAPER WHICH INVOLVED NO MATCHING.  So I think I’ll leave this one to the sewers. 

(Hahaha – like I’d be able to attempt *any* of this stuff.  I can handle a hole in the toe of my tights, but that’s my limit.)

Anyway, good times ahead - it’s that time of the series when we start to nose into the private lives of our competitors.  First up, Jenni/Kate Nash, who – would you believe it – actually is a singer in an indie band.  Her hubby, Kirk, also in the band (couples in a band: that’s bravery right there), is fully celebrating pattern week, by wearing a rather special turquoise and orange dotted shirt.  He also has the same hair (head and facial) styling as Jesus.  We learn that Jenni likes to make clothes for the band out of curtains.  A family-based musical act wearing curtains...?  Now who does that remind us of?   Anyway, back in the sewing room, Sister Jenni von Trapp is making a skirt out of a funky orange-y mustard and white pattern. 

Next up: Tamara.  Tamara is a children’s entertainer - you know, there is something quizzically cartoon-y about her expression which would lend itself well to clowning, now you mention it.  Just like Mr Jenni, Mr Tamara (Matt) is also in a loud patterned shirt – I’m sensing an interesting spouse-forced-to-wear-partner-made-produce trend here.  As for her own outfit, Tamara has swapped her kimono and tie for a plain top, but she’s sporting a giant yellow ring watch (yes, a ring which is a watch), so she is sticking with ‘interesting fashion choices’.  Her skirt is a bit more sober: pale blue and white.

Heather is taking a tactical approach – her pattern is tablecloth ivy green, which has strong repetition so that should make the matching up more straightforward - or something.  More home nosiness as we learn, and see photographic evidence, that Heather made her own wedding dress and fancy scarlet velvet dress coat – think demure Adam Ant.  Heather, as well as enjoying buckets of wine, seems to like gardening, or perhaps just standing in her garden wielding secateurs.  Her husband (essential look: ‘dashing Tory’, if that’s not an oxymoron) approaches and offers her a flower head.  She says ‘aww’, takes it and throws it back in his face.  That’s love, that is.  Mr Heather then tells us how Heather rustled up a top (“in three hours”) before an early date and that it basically turned him on a bit. (I paraphrase.)

Heather also has a sausage dog pin cushion, which I hugely covet, even though, in the grand scheme of ‘things that I need’, a pin cushion ranks in the bottom 3%.

Julie’s lost her pen, so she borrows Tamara’s.  She then likens it to a bingo pen.  Heather admits she’s never been to bingo.  Julie is not surprised.  I would like to see Julie and Heather go tut bingo though – I reckon they’d have a total ball.  Wine, numbers, excellentness.

We are treated to a snoop of Julie’s home life in Yorkshire, where she's styling it out in flat cap and waistcoat with cream chinos and boots.   It’s the country gent look again and she’s foxing it, to be honest.   Mr Julie, called Stephen, is ALSO in a patterned shirt.   That’s three of ‘em now - THEME AHOY!?! 

Well, no, not really, as Mr Cerina (Peter) kicks the theme to the curb by sporting a pattered hoodie and Judge Jules glasses.  He tells us that Cerina sews mainly after midnight – which sounds like a cover up for a secret smoking habit to me.  Claudia comes over and coos over Cerina’s powder blue metallic sewing kit.  AKA a toolbox.

David just wants to “stay out of the relegation positions” this week – that’s a football reference, ladeez.  Mrs David (Vicky) prefers drinking and Yahtzee to sewing and swiftly mocks her husband for preferring to hang out dressmaking with his mother-in-law.  (I’d like to report that Vicky is secretly proud, but nah, she’s ripping it.)  David’s gone for an electric blue and white check, but isn’t sure how small to make his pleats, as he wants them in line with the check.  May raises an eyebrow – I SENSE DISASTER!

Chinelo is also having pleat size issues, as her material’s not matching up.  She decides it must be her fabric, so sets out to find the one fabric in the haberdashery which has a swirl at the size which is perfectly pre-adjusted to exactly fit the pattern May gave all the sewers.  That is quite some optimism.  Despite Claudia’s attempts to ‘help’, it’s a fruitless search.  Chinelo decides to turn her material at a right angle instead.  Well that was a good ten minutes spent.

Mr Chinelo, Tunde, tells us that Chinelo goes on dressmaking binges, which can last a good forty-eight hours – she and Cerina should get together, as they both seem to enjoy late-night ‘sewing’.

It’s worth noting that Tunde and Chinelo are also both too good-looking for it to be really fair to the rest of us.

Animal shot: blurry seagull on a boat.

Fashionistory: OK, GENUINELY INTERESTING ONE.  Please sit comfortably.

So during the reign of Charles II, the posh hoity toity court ladies all wore slinky silk dresses, which were waaaaay too costly for plebs - much like how Victoria from Made In Chelsea generally wafts about wearing something that only she and Cruella de Vil can afford.   Deprived of costly silk, plebs had to put up with wool and linen (much like we have to shop at HnM.  Or Zara on payday), but that all changed in 1631 when the East India Company docked up, probably at that DLR station, and were granted permission to import patterned chintz (that's printed, affordable cotton - which did start out life as sofa upholstery, but then got gifted to servants after it had worn out).  It basically meant the plebettes could absolutely start wearing fancily decorated clothes, just on a different - and affordable - kind of material.  It was probably exactly like T K Maxx opening a new store in your town.

*Interlude whilst a man called Giorgio tells us about how to make Indian patterned chintz – it’s essentially cotton decorated with paint and potato print stamps, only, you know, gorgeous.*

Anyway, everyone was delighted with the new state of affairs, except the wool and linen producers – everyone wanted some chintz, so wool and linen sales went down. (I imagine this was like when Primark came on the scene and everyone was like, why the hell would anyone pay a billion pounds for Versace jeans, when NOW I can get stretchy jeggings for £3?)  So the government took action - and banned Primark!  I mean, it banned cotton imports.  

The ban was put in place in 1701 and that would have been that – save for a handy loophole which still allowed the import of chintz to England if it was for the export market.  That meant that ships could dock at the DLR station and say ‘oh yes, here is my chintz, but we’re just stopping here to change on to the Eurostar, as we’re not selling any chintz here, OH NO, it’s off to somewhere else foreign, so nothing to see here, thanxbyeeeeee’.  They promptly only legged it to Ashford International and set up a dodgy black market stall for the fashion desperate, who all rushed off to Kent get some contraband chintz.  (Imagine the cast of Towie leaving Essex to get kitted up at the black market chintz stall, only by horse and carriage rather than Southeastern Rail.)  It all went a bit dark in 1712 when the weavers got a bit fed up at seeing illegal chintz galore and went on the rampage – throwing ink over chintzily dressed ladies or even ripping the clothes from their backs.  NOT COOL WEAVERS.  The law was lifted in 1759, which seems.... some time later.  

Anyway, the moral of the story is that the weavers diversified into cotton and we still get to buy new Primarni tops for 50p.

Back in the sewing room, we see that Julie is making a skirt out of elephant print fabric - WANT.  She is relieved to note that her elephants match up and are marching in the right direction.

Remember how a million years ago, before I went off on one about chintz and TK Maxx, David was matching up his blue and white squares?  Well, to do so, he had to ignore the pattern and the outcome is that... well, the waistband of his skirt is teeny – like, even Claudia couldn't fit in it teeny.  Oops.

The judges have requested a lap zip (no idea), because it will test hand sewing.  No-one's too happy about it and Julie has outright decided not to bother and is going for a concealed zip, which the machine will do.  Lynda admits to Claudia she's done the same.  Claudia initially heavily hints, then outright tells Lynda that she needs to follow the judges' bidding or face their wrath.  Lynda unpicks and re-zips.  Julie is opting to face the wrath, putting it down to her usual destiny of always being told off - almost like it's not dependent on her actions.  (Erm...)

Heather, half smugly, half delightedly, admits she's basically done with half an hour to go. This will no doubt afford her time to plan her afternoon drinkie of choice.  Sauvignon or pinot or chardonnay?  Tough call.

Tamara has accidentally lined up the back of the skirt, not the front, so needs to unpick and re-sew – she says she's a bit stressed.  If a woman who makes a professional living keeping children occupied and entertained finds speed sewing stressful, then it's fair to say it must be.

Ey oop, more problems in the final minutes - Julie's mannequin must have been chomping the pies, as her zip won't go up all the way.  Mind you, David can barely get his up at all.  The skirt I mean.  On the mannequin. 

Time to judge – a mixed bag, though they look good to me.  The judges pull Julie up on her concealed zip, May explaining they wanted to see her hand-sewing.  “Oooooh, I would've done it fantastic!” Julie says, dead serious, before collapsing into infectious giggles.  HEART HER.

But Julie still comes last, just below Simon, whose pattern-matching wasn't quite there.  Jenni takes seventh, David sixth (lots of good work, only far too small), with Lynda and Chinelo fifth and forth, which means we once again have a podium of posh: Cerina takes bronze, Tamara takes silver and Heather wins the pattern challenge again.  She's beaming - I imagine she’s enjoying a celebratory sherry in her 'posh totty' mug.  She calls herself lucky.  Yes, that and SKILLED, Heather.  Tamara cackles that she is “right behind you Heather” - it's actually quite chilling.

2. The Customising Challenge: pimp my two shirts.  Well, less pimp and more de- and reconstruct. The sewers are presented with a rail of fifty charity shop cast-offs, and have to pick two, seeking to avoid the vilest prints.  It’s a bit like America’s Next Top Model when Tyra makes the models ‘style’ themselves and they go insane and rip each other’s hair extensions out to get to a snakeskin designer belt and one poor sucker is left with a crappy old pair of jelly shoes – only our sewers are far more polite and restrained about it.   The sewers need to pick two patterns that will work well together to make a whole new garment.  The judges are hoping for bold changes.

Lynda is going to turn her two shirts into a little dress for a small girl.  Cerina is doing the same, but it's going to be a sailor's dress.  It's not the first time Cerina has done this sort of thing – her wedding dress became a dress for her then 18 month old, who promptly sicked up on it.  Kids.  Awesome work.

The judges reiterate that they don't want to see just a shirt again.  (KEY INFO VIEWERS!)  Claudia then asks Simon what his plans are - and his plans are - yup, just a shirt.  Though he backtracks that it might be a dress too.  Heather and Julie are also keeping it shirty – they are going to feminise their shirts with frills or, in Julie's case, 'scallops'.  She's worried that her scallops look more like “tut Loch Ness monster”, which helpful indicates to me exactly what the heck scallops are (a wavy bit of décor along the button holes).

Chinelo, however, is taking to to the next level: BOOB TUBE.  Claudia's eyes light up.  It's going to be sculpted and have a giant flower on the shoulder.  Mmmm hmmm.

Elsewhere, David has found the most hideous silky paisley of all the prints and is gleefully turning it into a skirt panel – i.e., he is turning an ok skirt into a vile one.  Jenni and Tamara are also making skirts – Jenni is using plain-ish materials whilst Tamara is going boldio – she admits she thrives on the competition.

Heather is unimpressed with her own offering: “it's BORING” she pouts, “but at least it will be done on time”.  Elsewhere, Jenni has sewn herself into the sewing machine.

Time for musical mannequins before the blind judging: where will they stop, nobody knows!

May is literally open-mouthed with amazement.  She cannot believe what they've achieved; it's joyous to see her so unguarded and happy, and she can hardly judge she's so impressed.  Mind you, even Patrick's voice goes squealy at Cerina's sailor dress.  He's less taken by Julie's scallops, but appreciates the work.  That's followed by a brilliant shot of Julie sitting in her braces and tie, leaning back like a 1930s newspaper editor who's unimpressed by the scoops he's being offered.

Maytrick put Simon at the bottom, with Heather next (that's a fast fall), then David, Julie, Jenni and Lynda, with Cerina in third.  Chinelo takes second, which means Tamara has won the second task again.  Two for two for Heather and Tamara – Julie must be feeling confident about getting garment of the week... 

Poor Simon though – “I do not want to be associated with this garment”, he says.  Now now, Simon, where’s that ‘well at least it covers’ attitude from last week?

3. The Free For All Challenge: men’s pyjamas.

Which can mean only one thing: male models!  In blue dressing gown robes, no less.  Lynda immediately flirts outrageously with hers, “I'm soooooo pleased, as my fabric is pink, which will look soooooooooo lovely with your dark hair”.  Her model not-so-modestly acquiesces.

David’s model has long legs ("he's a big boy"), so he’s having to add a couple of inches to his black and white checked PJ bottoms.  Heather, who’s opted for red and white stripes (a little like a typical apron) decides she’d better check that her model “doesn’t have arms like orang-utans” – though it’s unclear whether this would be a pro or a con in the grand scheme of things.

Cerina is using a lovely blue floral William Morris fabric – schmancy.  It has something of the vase about it, but I really like it.  Tamara is also using an ornate pattern – newspaper print jimjams.  AWESOME.

Simon is using the same pattern as Tamara, by which I mean not the same pattern, but the same pattern.  You see?  EXACTLY!  GET SOME NEW WORDS, SEWING!  (Basically, their pyjamas will be the same design, but made of different patterned fabrics.)   Simon has gone for a fairly dull light blue and white checks à la tablecloth.  However, Patrick whispers that he prefers it to the newsprint, so it’s not all lost.  Tamara looks distinctly unimpressed and tells Simon his print is “very traditional.  Just like you.”  He (correctly) surmises this is a backhanded compliment.

Chinelo tells Patrick she is making “basic pyjamas”.

Patrick: How basic?

Chinelo: Extremely basic.

Patrick: Collars?

Chinelo: No collars.

Patrick: Cuffs?

Chinelo: No cuffs. [Chinelo’s voice gets progressively softer.]

Patrick: Fly?

Chinelo: No fly.

Patrick: It needs to be very very good. [Sub-text: you’re screwed.]

She is, however, making actually wearable shorty pyjamas, with a V-neck T, from brown stripy material.  She also has another amazing pair of plate-sized earrings on; this week, dented copper.  Lovely.

Over to Julie, who has already achieved an excellent rapport with her model, Roddy, a dapper looking older gent, by proclaiming that Roddy has “excellent legs” and will “look a dude in this blue and white stripy number, won’t ya Roddy?”.  “Oh, absolutely” replies Roddy, who is even more well-to-do than Heather.  “He’s the man” chuckles Julie, trying not to piss herself at such a comedy level of posh.  She’s also making shorts (good for Roddy’s excellent legs), with a green collar on the top.

Although Lynda’s dark haired model will match the pink, it remains to be seen whether her red pipping will match.  Pink and red can be a challenging combo.  She’s also never piped before, so now seems a good time to start, you know, during a nationally televised competition.  She admits to Patrick that... oh I can’t call Lynda a piping virgin, it seems disrespectful, as she seems such a wonderful lady.  She admits to Patrick that this will be her first go at piping and he tells her that it’s important for a quality pyjama, so to go for it.  I love these two together – they’re like Bake Off's Brendan and Sue Perkins, only without the catty faux-hatred.  (So nothing like Brendan and Sue at all.)  Lynda’s worried about sleeve length, which is a bit on the short side, but reasons “you don’t want them hanging in your porridge, do you?”

There is a new contender against Tamara’s newsprint fabric – which I think wins out, actually.  Jenni is using a print with taches and hats on it.  It’s MUCHO cool.

Simon has stitched a wonky pocket on; he seems fine about it, but May and Patrick discuss it in hushed tones like he’s just killed a man.

Heather measures her model’s waist and purrs “good boy”.  He’s in his boxers, with the cameras rolling, so I’d imagine he’s feeling preeeetty vulnerable just now.  David’s trews are a little snug on his model, so, well, same goes.  There’s apparently not much you can do, other than pray for quick-fire weight-loss.

Tamara and Simon continue to compare competitive pattern progress notes.  Tamara admits she’s just sewn the fly shut.  Simon responds by PERFECTLY imitating Beavis of Beavis and Butthead fame, face, laugh, EVERYTHING.  It’s scary – if he leaves the Sewing Bee this week, he has a serious lookalikee career option to fall back on - provided he can find a Butthead.

It’s final touches stage, via the small, but key matter of buttons.  Heather's pyjama top has gone a bit skew-whiff at the bottom, whilst Julie is full of appreciation at Roddy’s modelling skills of her PJs.  Patrick has thrown Lynda’s pyjama top on, over his shoulders, cape-style.  Lynda nearly passes out with the excitement - "Patrick's got my jamas on" - and bats her heart; her and her daughter’s sign for ‘Patrick, oh he so dreamy’ as I remember.

Chinelo appears to use the fitting as an excuse to have her model display his abs at length.  We are all grateful.  Sorry Tunde.

And time!

We get a lot of close-ups of pyjama tops with hairy chest triangles poking out - Heather’s model has a full on man rug.  On balance, I preferred the abs, but...

So how did they do?

Jenni has made a “very good pair of pyjamas” out of her moustache print, albeit too large.

David has matched his pattern well, but the trousers remain tight – he pretends it was the “model’s request”.

Heather has perfectly matched the collar stripes with the rest of the top, but the bottom is still wonky - she blames the time.

Tamara’s piping is deemed too big but it is very even.  She admits to sewing up the fly.

Roddy’s fly however, seems to be a little freer – eh eh Julie?  Patrick agrees – he’s worried about “indecency”.  Julie doesn’t seem so bothered.  Mind you, Patrick still says he’d wear it, home or out, so...

Chinelo has done her simple PJs “very neatly”, but they are too basic.

Poor Simon has uneven lapels and an unlined-up pocket.

Lynda’s p-p-p-piping is p-p-p-praised.  In fact Patrick thinks the whole outfit is a “really excellent pair of pyjamas”.

Cerina’s William Morris jimjams also get good feedback – they might have a big seventies collar, but it’s all well-matched.

It’s tea time and (for Heather, pinot grigio time, probably) at Gastronomica.

Garment of the week: Lynda’s pink jamas.

And leaving this week: Simon.  Claudia asks if they can rub themselves against him, to cheer him up.  It was down to a lack of experience really, but May and Patrick say some nice things.  At least he can seek Butthead and lookalike fame now.

Next week: I see your camel toe: leggings!  Also, T shirt transformations, fancy wrap dresses and Heather proclaiming she wants to “drown in a bucket of gin”.  I BET.

Great British Sewing Bee. Series 2. Week 1

Dalston no more; the Sewing Bee has moved to Shad Thames, to flee the hipster requests for hand-stitched silk lederhosen and corduroy deep Vs with patchwork nip detail.

Claudia Winkleman (ALL HAIL) keeps the presentery reins, all kohl, guffaws and distractive scurrying. I bloody love her.  May Martin and Patrick Grant, the Berrywood of needles and tailoring, are back to be eagle-eyed about wonky hems and linings.  I've yet to arrive at a truly satisfying portmanteau that sounds exactly like an English country cottage name, so Maytrick will have to do for now.  Patrick, you will be relieved and not surprised to hear, is still impeccably-groomed-ly, Clooney-level swoonsome.

There's a helpful guide to our Great British sewers here. (Fans of stinky tunnels will find that a disappointing link.) But I'll do my best to throw in helpful descriptors ('the lady with the tie', 'the other lady with the tie but who is Northern') whilst we go about learning their names.

IT'S SEW TIME!

1. The Pattern Challenge: a sleeveless cotton top.

Our stitchers have to follow a pattern. May shows us the finished example which looks like a cross between Laura Ashley curtains and an army vest.

Claude spots contestant Cliff looking worried. He explains he has never worn a sleeveless top before. He has, however, worn polka dots, so opts for familiarity in fabric. Cliff looks like a Glastonbury wizard who has shaved his wispy beard and ironed a paisley shirt to look smart for the telly. And he does. He seems adorable.

Housing officer Julie (Super Northern, black hair, potentially terrifying) declares she's a Give Anything A Go-er. She seems to be like a Take No Shit-er, to me - tread carefully, May. (Not that I fear for la Martin’s quietly composed CORE OF STEEL.) Going by purely superficial judgy first impressions of a heavily edited brief clip, I've decided Julie might have to work hard to win me round. Though I am enjoying how she's dressed like a minor he-royal about to do the rounds of his estate/school marm with ne'er a worry about the effects of a tweed waistcoat on an ample bosom.

Blonde bequiffed Tamara has also opted for a manly look: banker style shirt and yellow tie - but worn with a  belted kimono.  As you do.

We're introduced to a Welsh lady who calls herself 'Lynda', but it's clearly Shirley Bassey. Same hair, accent, face, the works. She describes how making something for her grandchildren is “like surrounding them with my love”. Even this old cynic joins her for a little sentimental cry.  Lynda is deaf and, though clearly a skilled lip reader, has a signer to help her along (a mysterious figure, to whom we are not introduced this week...) Lynda gets an early flirt in by informing Patrick that names in the deaf community get associated with actions, and her daughter's action for Patrick is a hand quickly beating the heart, such is his pristinely arranged face.  We all nod in complete understanding.

Blonde bobbed Heather makes her debut with the phrase “Chocks away, Ginger”. The posh bar is duly set, and high.

David ('the man one') is in the po-po - with Scotland Yard no less.  He's the token ‘not your typical sewer’, down to the slight sarf Laahdann lilt.

Chinelo (gorgeous black girl, with amazing plate-sized earring action going on), we're told, doesn't use patterns - I’m not sure how this will go down in a pattern challenge. She reckons it’s an advantage, which is a brave notion.

Turns out Shirley Bassey isn’t the only singer taking part – Kate Nash is doing the show too (well, Foundations was some time ago now, so the ongoing royalties might be meagre). Anyway, she’s calling herself ‘Jenni’. 'Jenni' is wearing a waistcoat and Adam Ant ruffle shirt - clusters of fabric around the face doesn't seem like the most practical outfit for close-up hand sewing. 

There's more waistcoat action from Simon (young Bradfordian with fifties hair, who works in tut mill museum and looms, like, with an ACTUAL LOOM). So that’s at least three waistcoats going down in the sewing room.  I know that James Shetland popularised donning old-fashioned sartorial choices for televised competitive middle class pursuits, but you can’t ALL have the waistcoat as your ‘signature’ thang.  Not when someone else is wearing a kimono and a tie...

Cerina has TOTALLY picked the best fabric for her sleeveless top – white with MOPEDS ON IT. HELLO! Cerina is the grey haired outdoorsy posho (as opposed to Heather the blonde bobbed posho). Cerina has goats. Heather has the kind of friends who would judge her badly if she revealed she made her own clothes. Blimey - there’s snobbery and then some. It seems she might have kicked those bitches to the curb though, as she’s a closet sewer no more. Go Heather! DIY and proud.

And then, THE LINE OF THE SERIES: “Cliff took up sewing three years ago when he retired as a Buddhist prison chaplain”.

I’ll repeat that, shall I?

“CLIFF TOOK UP SEWING THREE YEARS AGO WHEN HE RETIRED AS A BUDDHIST PRISON CHAPLAIN.”

I’m sorry Bake Off, but that beats EVERYTHING you've ever offered. Even Kimberley's Israeli/Palestinian peace breads.

May explains under-stitching to the viewers, which the sewers have been instructed to incorporate into their vests.  We learn that Northern Julie has decided not to bother with the under-stitching though, as she seems to think it would be an unnecessary faff.  Look, I found that technical explanation bit slightly boring too, Julie, but I'm not competing for... um, whatever the prize might be – let's say a 'lucrative' book deal: “Make Your Own Pleated Trousers”.  On that note, if you’re looking for technical info, this blog is not your source - the best I can do is: the sewers had to turn summat inside out and pull it through summat else and it was surprisingly hard.   Kate ‘Jenni’ Nash goes over to help Super Northern Julie, who is struggling with the process and is quickly losing patience.  Jenni successfully diagnoses the problem (she was pulling on the wrong end?).  In all honesty, Julie was not as gratefully and politely thankful as I would expect of a ‘Great British Something’ competitor.  Mind you, Jenni seems fine about it - she calls Julie a ‘narna’, Julie calls herself a dummy, and they giggle it out.

Everyone’s speed-stitching as the countdown to the end begins.  Well, bar Posh Heather who is calmly sipping a cup of tea from a mug which states "Posh Totty".  Jenni whispers to Julie that she likes Chinelo’s two tone design, but Julie whisper-sneers back that “the colours’r ‘orrible”. Miaow!  But Julie then sneers that her own colours are “borin’ as ‘ell”, so you know, roundabouts.

The judges get their hands on the mannequins. Poor Cliff hasn’t managed to finish his top, though the judges ‘kindly’ critique it anyway - and not well. (Sad face.) Julie gets told off for not following the brief (WHEN WILL THEY LEARN?) and we get our first Sewing Bee innuendo: “your back seem is puckering slightly” (I know, I know, barrel scrapings at best - we’re a long way from soggy bottoms here. *sigh*).  Anyway, the best top, IMHO, is Cerina’s moped vest, but she’s pipped by Heather’s “exquisite under-stitching”.  

From worst to best, the rankings are: Cliff, Simon, David, Chinelo, Lynda, Julie, Jenni, with Tamara in third, Cerina second and Heather as the winner.  In short, order of poshness.

Simon’s a bit peeved that his top was deemed to be something ‘you wouldn't wear out’.  He disputes that too - “I mean, it would cover”.  What a selling point: it's horrible and unfinished, but it will cover!

2. The Customising Challenge: pimp my woolly skirt.

The sewers have to transform a woollen maxi-skirt. Much like the technical challenge in Bake Off, the judges are out of the room and the whole thing is judged blind.

All the sewers are shortening the skirt, but then there are an array of options to still change the shape.  Welsh Lynda is adding some extra material pieces to flare it out a bit; she’s not sure how the word for such a piece is pronounced, but tells us: “it’s spelled G-O-D-E-T”. Well, attention Strictly fans, 'cause this is OUR domain, for we have long heard fashion designer Julien MacDonald yell "GODET" at the cameras, to Zoe Ball’s delight.  His delivery, which I'm surprised even deaf Lynda hasn't heard, is a firm (loud) “GO-DAY”, emphasis on the ‘go’: to rhyme with “NO way” or “O-kay” or “SLOW lay” etc.

But Claudia’s having none of it! !!!!!!!!!!!!! She throws in a calmly confident ‘go-debt’, with emphasis on the ‘debt’, and the ‘go’ very short - think the ‘o’ sound of log - with a definite T at the end.  This is a NIGHTMARE!  I don’t know WHAT to think now.  Julien is a fashion designer, but, he is also... well look how he spells ‘Julien’. Whereas Claudia Winkleman is a goddess - though we know nothing of her dressmaking skills.

Maybe I can mix and match: “GO-debt”? This is going to take some thought.

Kate Nash/Jenni whispers to Claudia because her pimp idea is apparently SO AMAZINGLY AMAZING she cannot say it within audible distance of her competitors, lest they steal it and try to claim all the credit - which seems an unlikely outcome, given that there are cameras rolling.  Turns out she is making dungarees, which is quite amazing.  Claudia is so impressed she immediately doles out a High Ten.  We then discover that, even though Jenni's still insisting on using the term 'dungarees', she's actually just adding braces. I mean, shit, I could do that (I couldn't).

Claudia makes all the sewers push their dressed mannequins into the middle of the room and mill them around, like a weird game of Musical Chairs. Only without the music. Or the chairs.

In come Maytrick to assess the offerings.

Northern Julie’s added a pocket and some hem-work; it’s well done, but insufficiently bold.

PC David has put some electric blue godets (“go-debts” says May, soz Julien) down the sides - imagine the bottom of a space rocket about to launch; Patrick says they look like ears and are “off centre”.

Simon Tut Mill Museum has sown in a funky tweed lightning bolt slash down the front and added a silk-lined pocket; that’s the pimped skirt I would buy. The judges also like it: “substantial and impressive”.

Chinelo has peplumed the top; “a very nice effect” notes Patrick.

Buddhist Cliff, bless him, has also gone for space rocket/godet. The judges aren't convinced pink paisley cotton was the best match.

Blonde posho Heather’s added a sort of tartan pleat/slit thing at the back - simple, but practical; “good fabric handling” says May.

Kimono/yellow tie posho Tamara has married her sober wool skirt with a gypsy ruffle; I don’t like it, but concede it was well executed.

Welsh Lynda Bassey’s godet-ing starts directly at the vagina and she’s added a bow bang on the fouffe - for emphasis?

Outdoorsy posho Cerina has put a mini frill around the bottom; May picks up that the join is way shoddy though.

Kate Nash/Jenni’s 'dungarees' (*cough* braces *cough*) also have orange trim around the outside.  Patrick is impressed that she thought above the waist.

The judges get ranking.  Cliff is last again, then David (again), then Julie, Heather, Cerina, Jenni and Lynda. Simon is this week’s highest climber at third, with Chinelo second.  It’s Tamara's gypsy ruffle which triumphs in the customising stakes.

Heather then officially becomes my current favourite, by requesting “a bucket of wine”.

3. The Free For All Challenge: a silk nightgown. 

The pattern and silk colour choice are down to the sewers and the gown is to be made for, and fitted on, a real life model, who have a refreshing range of healthily slim body shapes and sizes.

We're introduced to the nightgown designs, which are all variations on a similar model, as you'd expect: strappy, lacy boob detail and silky skirt, generally long.

Bucket wine drinker Heather is going for scarlet, whilst Simon has gone for hot pink – but there's a turquoise thread running through it, to give it a shimmer.  Simon says “I've never done anything for a woman before” and Claudia, seamlessly dealing with gay or straight noseyness, says “Not even for your girl?” - Simon remembers he did once make his girl a vest. “She doesn't wear it.”

Jenni is making a 1940's floor length nightgown, out of that musty yellow silk colour that the grandma wore in Allo Allo.  Her buddy Northern Julie had trouble finding a pattern, she looked at loads but she “dint like 'em”, because they “all looked like Wee Willy Winkle”. Mwahaha!  I'm warming to Julie. Her nightie is dramatic purple with black lace around the bust. Wee Willy Winkie (Winkle) it ain't - not unless Willy has a second career as the model on the cover of a romance novel.

Chinelo's gown's styling is also romance novel, but the naughty sexy kind sold in petrol stations - black lace and dark navy silk with a criss cross, corset-style, ribbon over an exposed back.  Schhexy.

From the look of the illustration, Tamara's nightgown is made of silky camouflage material – so that's a niche romance novel look, right there.  The reality is a bit more funky – so far, it's the only nightie I'd wear, but I prefer to sleep in old t-shirts and jogging bottoms that have become unsuitable for public view, but haven't yet made the rag bag.  Cause it's nice to make an effort for Mr Cad, eh?

David's making a mini nightie, also out of patterned material - a rather nice white, green and purple floral, which I would also deign to wear, if I'd run out of holey tops and saggy-bummed trackie bees.

Linda has gone full on girly – floorlength and piiiiiiink. Miss Piggy and Barbie would smash each others' faces in to sport that one. Cerina has gone for a less obvious green with grey/white lace; it's a bias cut and has a lovely diamond shape under the boobs. It's hard to describe the shade of green, but I've recently had to browse B&Q's paint range for our bedroom, and it's not dissimilar to this:

Disappointingly, this is not number 18 in a series and simply called 'Holes', as I first thought - apparently it's a golf course reference. Hurrumph.

Cliff's dark blue nightgown has sleeves! He's having trouble remembering his practice run.

Fashionistory: Yes, the Great British Sewing Bee is doing a tea-break-enabling educational bit, where Claudia finds out about key historical fashion events, which I will speedily and mostly inaccurately paraphrase for your reading pleasure.  This week we learn that when the Huguenots got chased out of France, they came to Spitalfields and touted their silky wares, sending London fashionistas into a frenzy - much like when the Kardashian Kollection came (kame) to Dorothy Perkins, I imagine.  Claudia also tells us about a silk kingpin dude called Mongeorge who did something called 'lustring', which was especially popular, and was a good egg who gave money to charidee and apprenticeships and stuff.

Back in the sewing room, poor Cliff isn't feeling well and decides it's a bit much and is going to leave the Sewing Bee.  Oh Cliff!  Oh dear.  Everyone's very sad.  Bye bye Cliff - you'll not be forgotten around these parts: not after "retired Buddhist prison chaplain".

Animal shot: Seagulls! (Seagulls shit, more like). No lambs on this part of the Thames, so it's the urban animals getting an arty showcase. Next week, maybe the tube mice will get a moment to shine.  They are totes adorbs.

Julie is pleased with the fit around her model's behind: “get in!” She refrains from smacking her model on the rump, but you can tell she wanted to.   She's so good for time she even adds a million diamantes whilst her competitors panic-sew, knowing they won't finish their hem lines.

The judges step up. They both like Heather's ladygown in red – Patrick jokes it's the kind of thing he might like to wear. Heather huskily murmurs “come for a measurement”. Oi oi! 

Simon's offering is too stiff – his silk was insufficiently silky. 

Lynda took too much on with her Miss Piggy floor-length nightie and didn't quite finish. 

Cerina's 18 Holes is a bit wonky on the model. 

Patrick thinks the bustline Tamara has cut is “verging on the indecent” - the cameraman helpfully focuses on the cleavage and menfolk forced to watch the show by their Bake Off fan ladyfriends lean in for a second opinion. 

The judges lavish praise on Julie's sexy nightie, from the  stretched hem, via the cut, to the diamante placement. 

Jenni's gown looks a bit Grecian, which is better than the grandma offering I thought she'd planned, but the judges don't like the fit. 

Chinelo's model catwalks in to the sound of romantic classical music and is a stone cold fox - Patrick is impressed by the fit and criss cross back, though May points out that makes it easier to adjust and it isn't quite finished, though in a far less bitchy way than that sounds.  (It's still one sexy ass gown – that saucy novel is going to sell very well.)  

David, who with Cliff gone, must be feeling very vulnerable, gets the thumbs up from Patrick, as there is “very little to criticise”.

And we're done!  Claudia sends the contestants away to “have a relax”.  Time for another brew - that Shad Thames coffee place is going to rival The Apprentice's Bridge Cafe before the series is out, with the screen time it's getting.  They all seem to be sippin' tea, though Heather might be having wine in that teacup, of course.

But who got the outfit of the week?

Special commendation: PC David's mini nightgown.

Winner: Northern Julie's purple nightgown.

And leaving this week... No-one!  Phew!  It would have felt harsh to say goodbye to two people. Jenni sheds a tear of relief and/or stress. Julie gives her a big hug.  Everyone's delighted, well expect Simon, who points out that they have to go through it all again next week.  Oh Simon.

Next week: elephant fabric (WANT), more ladies in ties, Simon has an unexpected fringe and Heather just *has* to ask her male model to undress – I mean how else is she going to fit his pyjamas.