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.