dress making fail

I was going to make my dress for The Jessies (Vancouver's professional theatre awards) this year.  I did it two years ago, and it was really cute despite the fact that everyone thought I was wearing a sheer dress with nothing underneath (it was a sheer yellow with BRIGHT PINK underneath.  Seriously people?  Do you think all the skin on my torso and the top half of my legs are such an insanely different colour than my incredibly pale face and limbs?  Are reverse-farmer tans really that common?)

Unfortunately, I failed.  Miserably.  With no one to blame but myself.

What I should have done was a test round with scrappy fabric.  I didn't.  I also didn't wait to check out my dear friend Shalyn McFaul's pattern books so I could follow an actual pattern for a real dress instead of making one up from a dress I saw on the internet over two years ago that has become a blurry image of general cuteness in my mind.  General cuteness in the form of a dress literally made out of strips of fabric tethered together in critical places.  This means that when I started chopping up the beautiful, sparkly, be-sequined fabric that I got for half price, I was cutting it into strips.  This, for the non-DIYers out there, is a more or less irreversible act of destruction that should only be undertaken with the greatest of thought and consideration.

So now I have a few strips of black sequined fabric that, when assembled, kind of remind me of one of my ballet costumes from childhood.  They were unattractive costumes.

Any ideas of what I can do with my sad little remnants?  Or shall I use this excuse to go SHOOOOOPPING* for a new Jessies dress?

*For some reason, the word SHOOOOOPPING just rolled through my brain Oprah-style: loud and drawn out, with arms flailing overhead in ecstasy.  Just go with it.