FASHION : Designing Whim Takes Sleeves to New Lengths : The excess fabric that extends mid-palm could mean an end to clammy handshakes or provide new business for seamstresses.

The other day we took a new dress to our seamstress to have the sleeves shortened.

“Look at this,” we said. “Everything fits perfectly but the sleeves,”--which in fact came down to our thumbs.

The dressmaker, who is hip, looked bored. “Sure,” she said, “I’ve redone a ton of sleeves lately; they’re all cut that way now.”

It took a minute to sink in.

“Well,” we said, “that’s a relief.” We had thought atrophied arms might be another of those pesky signs of menopause.

But, it turns out extra-long sleeves are a fashion whim, created by designers who have had to work hard to find an untried harassment feature for women’s wardrobes.

It’s true. Women have long been subjected to inconsiderate clothing elements, and there’s no sign of a letup. From laced corsets, which needed a second party to fasten, to the ignominy of divided skirts, there is always something slightly sinister on the fashion scene.

Now many sleeves have elongated to mid-palm and beyond, leaving strange silhouettes of women whose fingers dangle wraith-like from the cuffs. No one has arms long enough to fit some of the clothes now on the racks. If she did, she would look like Queen Kong.

There will be those who see the trend as a plus. A woman with sweaty palms can know that her once-clammy handshake will now impart a warm fuzzy grasp. But should all of us be lumped in the same mold?

It’s not as easy as turning up our sleeves and getting on with life. What of knitwear? We can’t go about hemming sweater sleeves unless our fashion sense has died a wretched death brought on by those new mid-thigh stockings. No, we’ll be freeing our hands by searching out elastic bands such as blackjack dealers favor, and hitching up the sleeves to a workable level.

It is possible that designers have done this in innocence, perhaps compensating for the new exposed midriffs by giving us extra fabric at the wrist.

But this is not the way we see it. Instead, we imagine these persons at their drawing boards reviewing the annals of cumbersome feminine style for inspiration. Such a scene might go like this:

1st Designer: “Hey, how about sticking four-inch heels on women’s shoes--that should get a rise out of ‘em!”

2nd Designer: “What planet have you been on? That caper is still holding its own from the last go around. It’s one of our best productions.”

“OK, here’s one that’s been dead for a century: hoop skirts! It’s a major feat just to get through a doorway.”

“Too blatant. We’ve got to watch our strategy, One, or they’ll catch on right away.

“Veils?”

“Nah. Wait--here’s something. How about sleeves so long you can’t wash your hands?”

“Gosh, Two, that’s ingenious. They could be a nuisance with steering wheels too.”

“What I like particularly is they will hang out of coat sleeves; it’ll give us a chance to redesign coats.”

“Congratulations, Two! That’s a keeper. I’ve got to hand it to you.”

“Thanks. I think that’ll hold ‘em for fall. Let’s brainstorm on spring before we break for lunch.”

“Right on, Two . . . Can we take a look at wimples?