So, this idea popped into my head, you know? An LSU cheerleader costume. For an adult. Me, to be specific.
Don’t really ask why. Maybe it was a game coming up, or maybe I just felt like tackling a new project. You get those urges sometimes, right?
First thing I did was hop online. Tried to see if I could just buy one ready-made. And sure, there were some out there. But honestly, most of them looked a bit, well, cheap. Or the price tag? Whoa. Made my eyes water a bit. Plus, you never really know how those things are gonna fit when you order ’em online.
So, I thought to myself, “How hard can it be?” I figured I’d just make one. Yeah, famous last words sometimes, I know. But I was feeling pretty ambitious that day.
Alright, step one was getting the materials. The fabric. You’d think finding that LSU purple and gold would be a piece of cake, right? Especially with LSU being so popular. But nope. Finding the right shade of purple, that deep, rich color they use? That took me a couple of trips to different stores. And the gold! Don’t even get me started on the gold. Some shades were too yellow, others looked almost bronze. I must’ve looked like a right fool, draping different fabric swatches over my arm in the middle of the aisle.
Finally, I found some decent stuff. Good quality, felt right. Had to grab some sturdy white fabric too, for the main parts of the top and the skirt. You can’t skimp on the base, you know?
Then came the design part. I spent a good chunk of time just staring at pictures. Pictures of the actual LSU cheerleaders, trying to get all the details right. Their uniforms are pretty iconic, with that specific cut on the top and those sharp pleats on the skirt. I didn’t go out and buy a super formal pattern or anything. It was more like I sketched out what I wanted, based on what I saw in the photos, and then kinda mashed it up with some basic top and skirt patterns I already had from other sewing projects. A bit of pattern hacking, you could say.
Cutting the fabric is always that nerve-wracking moment, isn’t it? You measure twice, maybe even three times, cut once, and you still kinda hold your breath hoping you didn’t mess it up. My sewing machine, bless its little mechanical heart, decided to be a bit finicky that week. Of course it did. Had some skipped stitches, even broke a needle or two. The usual sewing drama. But I pushed through. Getting those purple and gold stripes on the skirt lined up perfectly straight? That took some serious patience and a whole lot of pins.
And then the letters! The big “LSU“. Couldn’t have an LSU cheerleader costume without those, could I? I thought about a few different ways to do them. Embroidery? Nah, too much painstaking work for my skill level right then. Fabric paint? Worried it might look a bit sloppy or crack. In the end, I went with felt. Carefully cut out the letters – I think it was purple felt with a gold outline, or maybe the other way around? I remember fiddling with that for a bit to make sure it looked authentic. Then I carefully sewed them onto the top. That part actually turned out pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.
The top needed to be fitted, you know, but still allow for some movement. For all the imaginary cheering I’d be doing in my living room, ha! And the skirt, with those classic cheerleader pleats. Ironing those pleats in, making sure each one was crisp and even, that was practically a whole afternoon’s job. But it’s those little details that really make the whole thing come together, you know?
So, after all that – a bit of sweat, maybe a few choice words muttered under my breath at the sewing machine when it was being stubborn – I had it. A full-fledged LSU cheerleader costume. And it fit pretty well too! I did a few twirls in front of the mirror, not gonna lie. Felt pretty chuffed with myself, pretty accomplished.
It’s not like I was planning on wearing it out to the grocery store or anything. But for its intended purpose (which I’m still being a bit mysterious about, haha!), it was spot on.
You know, sometimes you see these things online or in a shop, and you just think, “Oh, that looks simple enough.” But then you actually try to make it yourself. And you quickly realize all the little steps, all the fiddly bits, all the things that can go sideways if you’re not careful. It really gives you a new appreciation for how things are constructed. And honestly, even with the minor headaches along the way, there’s something incredibly satisfying about making something with your own two hands, exactly how you (mostly) want it. Beats paying a small fortune for something mass-produced that might not even fit you right. Plus, now I know every single stitch that went into that thing.
