This time the pattern of choice was Simplicity 5934, another 70s kids coat pattern, in a size 2. Q is now just shy of 3, but the chest size was a match, and once again I added some length to the sleeves and the hem.This pattern has the same overall lines as the first, though it lacks the cute yoke feature. I initially thought it had facing pieces but no lining, but the pattern pieces are marked with separate cutting lines for the lining. And there is a separate under collar piece, cut on the bias and allowing for turn of cloth and everything! (OK, the fact that I had been working with some insipid modern McCall’s coat patterns that can’t even be bothered to include real facings may have left me easily impressed.) The lining ended up being the real star of the coat, though. I couldn’t find any more Kasha flannel-backed lining in stash, cry, so I had to settle for some random ivory satin and a heavy flannel (left over from the winter petticoat) for underlining. I had done a cute little hand-quilted “Q” on the back of the first coat’s lining; for this one I knew I didn’t have it in me to hand-quilt, so I decided to try my hand at a wee bit of machine quilting a more overall pattern. I’m not much of a quilter, but I do have a walking foot for my Rocketeer, so I spent a wee bit of time testing how it worked with the two layers (smashingly!) and what kind of shapes I could manage. Q now has little sister T, so I doodled up some Q and T shapes for the centre back, and a swishy braid (ok just two windy lines) for along the hem. For the front pieces, I worked in an A and a D, for each of the parents. It’s either really cute or way over the top saccharine. If you think the latter, you do not need to tell me. ;) Frankly, I’m just impressed that I was able to doodle up some decent-looking letters freehand—no printouts or templates were involved. The wash-away blue marker worked just fine, but for the first time I can see why the stuff that just disappears on its own would be handy, too. I did some stupid things in construction, like forget that I had added a back-pleat to the lining so it ended up looking kinda gathered when I eased all that extra fabric onto the facing. Now, the 70s pattern has cute pocket flaps, but no actual pockets. Q has been carrying around a very tiny green teddy bear (imaginatively named Green Bear) for the last several months, so obviously a pocket for Green Bear was mandatory. I guessed at the size, made a lined patch, and hand-stitched it on for invisibility, with knots every other stitch since, um, preschooler. The fit turned out very well. I haven’t gotten a report on wearability since they returned to the coast a few weeks back, but we did manage to get her to try it on. (That only took most of a week of coaxing.) Although I’m hopeful she will enjoy wearing it (she seemed to like it once it was on), even if she doesn’t, her mama’s excitement is always more than enough for me! :D Confession: I don`t actually think I’ve topped the CUTE of the first coat (tinier is always cuter, plus the yoke feature is adorable) but I’m pretty proud of the lining, at least, and feeling a distinct twitch towards making myself a quilted skirt or something. And A has promised me pictures of BOTH girls in BOTH coats as soon as little T is big enough for the smaller one. Syo and Tyo agree that it’s pretty cute.
(A real downside of working at a fabric store is you spend a lot more time petting the fabric at the store than you do at home petting your stash, which gives you plenty of opportunity to fall in love with Shiny New Fabric.)I got this pattern in a glorious Jalie binge back in (?) June after it first came out, and have been excited about it ever since. Gillian’s version didn’t help a bit, despite her having some reservations about the pattern.
As Gillian said, the 60% horizontal stretch the pattern calls for is a lot once you step outside the world of dance wear Lycra, and my fabric, while having great recovery (also a must for this pattern), only just barely had it. I should probably have upsized a bit. I did not, and it’s fine, but the seams are definitely under some pressure. I hate to complain about 1/4″ seam allowances under any circumstances, but they don’t give you much leeway for letting a thing out.Like Gillian, I used the curved scoop from the back on the front as well. I did actually trace out the slightly-different front and back pieces (since I wanted to add a swayback adjustment), and just added the front scoop to the back, so I have scoops in both directions—which is probably why it’s slipping off my shoulders a bit and showing some bra-strap. My bad. ;) One thing I loved, when I went to lengthen the sleeve, was how close the Jalie sleeve draft is to my knit sloper. (Although it is a symmetrical sleeve, unlike my sloper; it works ok in a stretchy knit.) The pattern itself has a half-sleeve, to be cut on the fold; I mirrored the pattern to a full sleeve when I traced it, mostly so I didn’t have to cut it out twice. I added about 2.5″ of length to the sleeves to get the slouchy-over-the-hand look that I covet so much, but really a single additional inch would probably have been adequate. (If you haven’t noticed, a lifetime of too-short sleeves has left me traumatized—I prefer my sleeves to come down to the fold of my thumb.) One thing I didn’t notice from all the photos I’ve seen was that the very-full skirt actually skims the hips quite closely before flaring out right around butt-level. Not a bad thing (actually, I love it), just something I didn’t pick up on before. For the neckline, I used just a cross-grain strip stitched to the outside, folded to the inside, and topstitched with a twin needle. Then I trim of the excess from the inside. My twin needle lasted through topstitching the neckline and the sleeve hems, but died less than 1/8 of the way around the skirt and I was way too lazy to thread up my Rocketeer, so I used a triple-stitch zigzag on the skirt hem. It’s so nice to have that stitch again. In honour of the Better Pictures Project (and the full, full skirt) I tried to get some twirling shots. Um. Well, points for trying?
All in all, though, I’m pretty happy. It’s a nice, beefy fabric that handles the shape well. The colour is ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. And it’s a great basic dress that will be fun to layer up for winter (I’m wearing it with one of Tyo’s little vests right now and she may not get it back.)What I didn’t get photos of is the part right after I finished it, where Syo demanded a dress just like it and then I had her try it on and it basically fit except for the long sleeves and then Tyo tried it on too and demanded a shirt from the leftovers.
So, yeah. Jalie patterns. Betcha can’t make just one. ;)
Besides, I might still need to make a red velvet version…. >_<
The year was 1994; I was in grade 9, which in our particular corner of the world is the first year of high school, and my world was bursting into life. Freed from the strict sartorial shackles of my elementary-school class, for the first time in years, I could wear what I wanted, without being informed that my socks were rolled wrong or the cuffs on my jeans were too wide, or that I shouldn’t wear my T-shirts tucked in/untucked (depending on the year.)
I wore babydoll dresses; short shorts and crop tops; fluffy romantic things, and neo-hippy tie-dye clothes from the import store that always smelled of patchouli. And I had a crushed velvet dress.
It was green, not black. (I was not a goth, although I did hang out with an awful lot of them and ended up married to one.) It had a scoop neck, princess seams, and lacing at the back that let me pull it in ’til it fit just right. In fact, the only problem with it in the world, as far as I was concerned, was that the sleeves were too short.*
Eventually, as with most of the pivotal wardrobe items from this period, the sleeve-shortness irritation eventually outweighed my delight in it, leading to the dress getting donated. And seriously, I’ve missed it ever since.
Pretty much as soon as I started “seriously” sewing (around when I started this blog), I started plotting to re-create it. An array of 90s dress patterns found their way into my stash over the last few years with just this project in mind, most of which appear in the first picture in this post.
But, well, other decades called and the queue is long and my attention is fickle and the right fabric just never really appeared. Until this past fall, when my Fabricland got in a small and fairly random crazypants assortment of printed black crushed velvet that just screamed to become this dress.
Frankly, from the way it smells, it`s probably been sitting in someone’s warehouse since the 90s. MUSTY. Sigh.
Anyway, since we are on a zero new fabric budget this fall, in order to happen, the dress had to be a store project. And they really prefer you use an in-print pattern for those. So in the end I didn’t use any of my patiently-hoarded original 90s treasures, but rather the more-or-less identical current version, McCall’s 7189. It’s designed for wovens, but this is not a particularly stretchy stretch velvet, especially with the nasty scratchy print stuff on the outside. I figured I would size down to a 10 and it would probably be good. I cautiously want to suggest that I could’ve gone with an 8, since I still took the 10 in quite a bit, but I don’t know. I’ve never had good luck with that.
I am still trying to get a handle on fitting McCall’s patterns; I keep overshooting and then backing off too much. For this one, I did a square-shoulder adjustment (which was great—I don’t think I’ve ever actually regretted doing one of those) and a full swayback adjustment.
Let me explain a little. I almost always do a swayback adjustment, taking a wedge out of the back of the pattern so I don’t end up with too many wrinkles in the small of my very-curved back. I don’t need a big one, but I do need one. I also almost always petite bodices, because my back length is a full inch shorter than the patterns are drafted for, and a high armscye works much better for my skinny arms. But if you think of the curve that is my torso, while my back length is shortened, my length in the front is actually longer; not longer than the original pattern, but a little longer than my petite’d versions often end up.
Anyway, for this dress I decided to try and do things a bit differently. I kept the full amount of length in the front, and started my wedge in the side front, made it deeper in the side back, and just took the full horizontal tuck out of the Petite Alteration Line on the back pattern piece. (So the back was about a full 1″ shorter than the front.) For what it was intended to do, I actually think this worked brilliantly—the waist seems to fall in the right place both back and front, rather than being right in back but a bit high in front. But I still feel like there’s a bit too much height above the bust, since I didn’t shorten at all between bust and shoulder. It’ll do, mind you. Oh, and I deepened the scoop neck, because MOAR CLEAVAGE.
In terms of on-the-fly fitting, I wound up taking in the whole side-seams by about 1cm (a bit more under the arm), and also taking in the shoulders probably almost an inch on each side. I’ll attribute this largely to using a knit fabric. If I hadn’t had the lacing in I would probably have removed more.
The other change was more aesthetic than anything—the McCall’s pattern only has three quarter sleeves; while these are cute and maybe even more practical, for the sake of my teenage self, this dress needed to have long sleeves. LONG sleeves. As usual, I used my knit sloper to extend the pattern piece out to the correct length, although I kept the width of the original pattern (well, until I took it in during construction.)
Construction wise, there isn’t much to say. I did most of it on the serger, except for the hems and neckline, which I twin-needled on my new regular machine. Which really deserves a post of its own, but anyway. I added little loops along the back princess seam to run lacing through, as per the 90s original; I made my lacing and loops out of self-fabric stitched into a tube and turned, also as per my original. For the sleeves and hem, I finished the edge with serging with the differential cranked up to gather the fabric, which makes turning up the hem a cinch; I also used half-inch Steam-a-Seam for the hems, because life is just so much better with that stuff in a hem.
And, voila! An evening’s worth of work is all it took to bring a greater measure of peace to my latent inner fourteen-year-old.
It may be a little sad, but once I get it back from Shop-Project-Land, I have a feeling I will wear the snot out of this.
*Sleeves being too short is the single biggest reason I even started making my own clothing. Every once in a while I think I should step it back, and that there are plenty of great storebought clothes out there, and maybe I should give more time to one of the other passions I used to indulge in, like art and dance and reading and science and spending time with my family… and then I remember the sleeves. Sewing it is.
As the leaves wither and rattle from the trees, Canadians hunker down and sink into a quiet desperation while daylight hours dwindle and summer ebbs away to a painful memory, and the impending torture of the deep freeze becomes an immanent presence suffusing every waking moment…
Yup, it’s sweater season. And Fabricland has a variety of sweater knits and fleeces I haven’t seen the like of in years, so I had to dig in, on the project side because, as per usual, I am flat broke with my real own money, and good sweaterknits are expensive. Hell, mediocre ones are expensive. Darned kids and their needing braces and things. I was actually hoping to do a men’s cardigan for my father for Christmas, but another lady totally nabbed that* and they don’t like us to all do the same pattern. Boo hiss. On the up side, that meant I was free and clear to pick a project for MEEEeEe!
I’ve been ogling Burda 6847 for a while now. I love long sweaters but I haven’t had one of my own in years. Gillian has been making some awesome ones though. And, see my above comment about the sweater knit collection.
I picked a faux-cable knit kinda fabric, in white because I am a sucker for punishment. When this fabric first came in I wasn’t sure if I hated it, just for having a misleading name. I detest when they do that. It’s not a “real” cable knit, but rather two layers knit together to create what look rather like quilted cable shapes. But it’s got a nice weight and stretch and all that. And, because I’m kinda mad for fleece lined sweaters (my husband has quite a few that I’m always stealing), I wanted to line it. But I didn’t want just our regular old fleece—I wanted this particular one we got in with a bit of an odd, nubbly surface. Again, I wasn’t sure I actually liked it at first glance, but when I was picking out the project, it just seemed right. Except. We were already sold out of the white. All that remained were a couple of remnants with stains on.
I grabbed them anyway. At the very least it would be enough for the hood, which is really all that is “supposed” to be lined in this pattern. Of course, if at all possible, I had every intention of lining the whole damn thing.
The zipper might almost be my favourite part—this is the kind of crazy luxury item I would have a really hard time splurging for myself, but for a project—awesome! As per the pattern photos, it`s a double-ended separating zipper, so you can zip it up from both ends. With a particularly gorgeous gunmetal finish.
I was pretty minimal on my alterations for this one—I cut a size 36 (aka 10, technically a wee bit smaller than I actually am but I wanted this to be form-fitting.) I petite`d the bodice, lengthened the sleeves, and squared the shoulders. I skipped the swayback adjustment, figuring it’s just a sweater. But I can definitely tell that I skipped it.
So, as I mentioned, the pattern isn`t designed to be fully lined. So I was a bit perplexed when it called for 1.4m of fabric for lining the hood. I mean, the whole pattern only calls for 2m of fabric for the outside). How do you use 1.4m of fabric on a hood?
Well, it turns out when you cut the hood and front facing all in one, that really does take 1.4m of fabric. Fortunately for me (especially since neither of the remnants I wanted to use for lining was anywhere near 1.4m long), I just wanted to use the exact same pieces for the lining as the outside. I was able to get my body pieces from one remnant, and the sleeves and hood from the other.
Speaking of the hood, I’m not loving any of the pictures where I’m actually wearing it. It’s large enough to be functional, it isn’t large enough to have an attractive drape when up. I often use the hoods on my bunnyhugs to layer over and under various winter hats, though, so I’m sure I won’t regret having it. Also, the grainline on it is odd. It doen’t run parallel to the front of the hood. Which wouldn’t bother me except that I was using what was essentially a vertically striped fabric, and I think having the cables on a bit of an angle at the hood front is a little odd. But maybe better than trying to have it go perfectly down the edge of a cable like I tried to do for the front zipper. That was hairy, and made me wish I’d cut things out singly.
I fused knit interfacing along the front of the fabric, both shell and lining, before attaching the zipper. I still ended up with some pretty hefty rippling in the zipper, boo hiss. At a guess, I was trying to ease too much fabric onto a shorter zipper (the pattern called for 34″, but the longest Fabricland had that was separating was 32″, My alterations should have taken care of at least 1″ of that, but I probably eased in the remaining 1″ without realizing it., It doesn`t show when it’s zipped up and I’m sure as hell not unpicking, but it was a bit of a disappointment.
I also wasn’t happy with how bubbly the hem looked in these photos, so I tried to wrangle a 2″ wide strip of steam-a-seam into the space inside the hem. I think this would’ve been a great solution if I had tried to do it, at leat the first half, while the hem was still open, rather than after I’d sewn everything up except a 4″ gap that I eventually finished by hand. As it was, trying to wrangle it in and then get it fused was a bit of a disaster—it looks OK, but not as smooth as I would’ve hoped, and the doing of it was just a nightmare.
The fleece lining definitely makes it a bit less sleek and more, um, marshmallow-y than it might otherwise have been, but the coziness certainly can`t be beat. And I don’t think I can explain to you how much pleasure those cozy long sleeves give me. LOOOOOONG sleeves.
There is one potentially catastrophic problem, though. I showed it off to my stylish sister-in-law at Thanksgiving**, who also loves LONG sweaters with LOOOOOOONG sleeves, and she wants one. Preferably this one. Like, right now.
So when I get it back from hanging, I may have a fight on my hands.
*In fairness, apparently she had hoped to do something with Burda 6749, the basis of Tyo’s flannel shirt… So we yoinked each other.
**Canadian Thanksgiving, in early October, a civilized length of time before Christmas.
Ok, I confess I’m really enjoying this outfit.
The dress is McCall’s 6955, and while I confess I was a little bit disappointed when I put it on and it didn’t instantly transform me into the voluptuous bombshell I was hoping for, it is pretty fun.
I’ve been experimenting with making fewer alterations, seeing what I can get away without. I didn’t do a swayback adjustment, as the skirt was full. I only shortened the bodice below the armscye, as I think I maybe don’t need to petite McCall’s quite as much as I did Simplicity. I think I should still have done the swayback to the bodice, though, and probably added a bit of length at the bodice CF as well (the flip side of the swayback alteration, I guess… my back is shorter and my front is longer. Silly body.) I always think this after, but somehow I never actually act on it.
I picked the racerback option because the standard version just seemed a little TOO boring. (Yes, apparently I thought crazy kindergarten polkadots were boring. /headshake.) And of course, black piping at the neckline and armholes. #pipeallthethings
I made this as a Fabricland project back in the summer, mostly as an excuse to use some of this gorgeous “cotton satin” they got in. Man, I petted that fabric every day for weeks… The print is a bit out of my comfort zone, but it is fun. You can see that I didn’t even try to match it. Mostly this doesn’t bother me, although now that I look at these photos it would’ve been nice to match at least the bodice across the zipper in the back.
I made my proper size (size 12) as the fabric didn’t have stretch, but I wish I had made the 10. I took out the extra width in the side bodice, but I feel like the shoulders are just a bit too big. Some of that might be that I didn’t shorten the bodice through the armscye, either. And yeah, I didn’t really think that sleeveless, narrow shoulders, barely more than straps, like these could actually FEEL too big or too small, but they do. If I hadn’t done all that crazy piping, I’d take them in half an inch, but I’m not quite willing to break up the piping. The skirt is quite short; I did a faced hem (is there any other way to hem a circle skirt?) so only took it up a 1/4″ and it’s still three or four inches above my knees. Not bad, but something to be aware of. And it shows off the lace on my petticoat. Totally intentional, I swear. ;)
I added pockets because all circle skirts should have pockets. It’s fully lined in cotton batiste (one of my other perennial fave fabrics).
I do have one quibble that I THINK is with the pattern (although it’s possible I got my markings wrong, because lord knows I’m bad with notches, but I was using the side notches to line up my pocket pieces so I’d swear I actually got it right because I was paying attention to them for once) Anyway, when I cut it the grainline of the back skirt is rotated 90º from the front. I noticed this vaguely when I was cutting out, but as it’s a circle skirt so one edge is going to be on the cross grain anyway, I didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until I was sewing up my side seams that I realized that my polkadots are actually arranged in subtle stripes, and they are perpendicular to each other, running horizontally across the back of the skirt and vertically on the front. HEADDESK. Also, if I’d realized those stripes were there I could totally have added a front seam and gone to town with polkadot chevroning! As for the mis-matching stripes, I could totally have fixed that by just unpicking the side-seams and switching the back pieces around, since they are 1/4 circle each, but I already had the pockets all sewn in, so I didn’t. Apparently I was not into self-improvement when I made this dress. #badsewcialist
Anyway, despite all my quibbling it’s still really fun to wear, especially with a little sweater to cover the less-than-optimal bodice. Which brings us to part II of this post:
While the dress was a spur-of-the-moment impulse kind of project, this sweaterette has been percolating through my brain for AGES (OK, like a year). I can’t even remember when I got this pattern, but it is weirdly cute, and it has grown on me as my fascination with teensy shrunken sweaters blossomed over the last couple of winters. Except that obviously it needs to be shortened, because a fitted bottom band that starts right at your waist (or just below it) as the picture seems to indicate… well, that’s just going to ride up anyway.
I overdid the cropping a little bit. Another inch, even two, all around would just relax everything. I do have enough of both these fabrics to make another version, should I decide to. We’ll see. There were some hairy moments in the construction I don’t know if I want to revisit.
I got both of these fabrics last winter sometime. The main fabric is a scratchy sweater-knit/burnout kinda thing that was one of those random end pieces Fabricland often gets, which seem to have been collected from the trash behind some apparel factory. The fabrics are unusual, sometimes even spectacular, and often grievously flawed. This was a flawed piece, being both badly stained at one end and varying wildly in width as one selvedge has a crazy yaw going on. A long soak in Oxy-Clean minimized the staining, but there’s no saving that weird shape. It’s ok for itty bitty things like this, though.
For the ribbing, I used this luxuriously soft rib-knit (almost more of a sweater-knit, except I hate hate hate rib-knit sweaters). Based on the way it changes texture in the wash, I think it’s largely rayon, and unlike almost every other rib-knit I’ve ever met, it feels great. It’s got more stretch than Elastigirl, though, and was the main cause of all the hairy construction moments I mentioned above.
I was pretty darn excited that the Kwik Sew pattern had separate cutting lines/pattern pieces for the bands and collar depending on whether you were using ribbing or the self fabric. Obviously I was using ribbing, so I went with those. Um, did I mention this ribbing is really, really stretchy? I actually had to go back, iron the ribbing to flatten it as much as possible, re-cut my pieces with it flattened, and then shorten some more. And I still could’ve made the bottom band a couple of inches shorter—it kinda flaps out at the bottom. I did stabilize the seams with 1/4″ clear elastic where I could (neckline and bottom, if I recall.)
I hadn’t even looked at the pattern size when I picked KS 535 up (one mustn’t be too fussy with vintage patterns, after all), but this particular envelope only went down to size 14! Oops. So I started off by grading down a size, not as easy as it might be as the nesting was not particularly regular—not sure if that’s a quirk of how the grading was done or just of pre-CAD drafting days, when you couldn’t just instantly nudge everything into perfect alignment. But it worked well enough, though the shoulders are still a tad wide for my taste (I like my little sweaters LITTLE. Like the sweater version of the shrunken hipster suit. Especially if you’re going to add puff sleeves. These have just the perfect amount of puff, by the way, enough to be pretty without nudging into linebacker territory.) I did my other usual changes as well, of course, petite-ing the bodice and squaring the shoulders. If only I’d left just a little more length on the bodice below the bust…
I didn’t actually plan these pieces to go together, nor were any of the accessories acquired with them in mind—but somewhere around the time I started this blog I picked a bit of a mental “palette” and have come back to ivory/off white again and again, and I guess it does pay off eventually, because I have the most luscious array of black and ivory things to pair with either of these pieces. To the point where the pleasure of constructing the outfit, and then wearing it, far outweighs my little nit-picks at the individual items. So that was actually a neat thing, too—I don’t do a lot of wardrobe planning, but stumbling into some by accident is pretty darn awesome.
Tyo wanted a plaid flannel shirt.
She has several, but the best one actually belongs to one of her friends and she’s going to return it. Tomorrow. Totally. So could I make her one just like it? I made Syo a whole dress for her cosplay a few weeks ago, and the last thing I made Tyo was a lousy sports bra like six months ago. Jeez, mom.
It’s been a long time since I made Tyo a flannel shirt. Like, um, five years? How the hell did that happen? I will say, that was an awesome shirt, even if it was too small. One of my nieces still has it, and a few weeks ago it floated back into our house and I was looking at it and I was all like, man, I did a great job on that shirt! I had always planned to make Tyo a bigger one just like it, and had even bought more of the fabric. I found the piece shortly before I started this project; I got a one metre cut. How the hell did I expect to make a shirt for a ten or twelve year old out of 1m of 42″ wide flannel? How the hell did I even manage that the first time, which was something like a kids’ size 7, but lengthened?
While I’m not going to complain about the final product (and Tyo is thrilled, so that pretty much fixes everything) there was definitely a fair bit of, um, sideways on this project.
It started with the fabric. Tyo wanted red. I leaned toward a red-and-black plaid myself, but I thought Tyo would love this more colourful one, with its blue and green and bits of yellow. That are not, as you may notice, symmetrical (Is that the right word? I’m too lazy to google proper plaid terminology, though I know I’ve read posts on it before.) I didn’t even think about this until I started cutting out, and trying to mirror left and right. Yeah, doesn’t really work. Headache number one. It didn’t help that the fabric had dried slightly off-grain after the pre-wash, so getting the lines on one side to match up to the lines on the other side when cutting was, um, not working. The sane thing to do, by the way, would’ve been to iron and steam the fabric back square, but I’ve been trying not to leave my ironing board up in the kitchen between projects (at which I am intermittently successful) so I didn’t have it out when I was cutting this out. What I did instead was yank and fudge so that my plaid lines roughly matched up, although everything looked weirdly twisted, and then iron them back into submission (and symmetry) after everything was cut out. It worked, fortunately, but I do not recommend this method.
Burda 6849 is a beautifully tailored women’s shirt. What Tyo wanted, on the other hand, was a loose, slouchy I-stole-this-from-my-boyfriend kind of shirt. Archer would likely have been perfect, but I don’t have that one, and I wanted to do this as a shop project—and while I can and do use Indie patterns for those, the cost can`t be included in the budget and I didn’t want to shell out the money. I figured I could make it a size up, and with a mod or two, all would be well. I left off the front and back darts, and cut the back on the fold with a little more width than the pattern called for, to make a pleat. Tyo was a bit concerned that it wasn’t going to be long enough, so I also lengthened the back—through I think it would’ve been fine; I removed most of the length I had added before hemming.
She loves shirts with those button-up tabs to keep the sleeves rolled up, so I added some of those as well. It was pretty simple, although I should’ve made them a little longer.
Other than shortening through the waist a little bit, I made none of my usual fitting alterations. It felt really weird, especially when I didn’t add four inches to the sleeve length. In hind sight I could’ve graded out another size at the hips, but ah well.
Either the sleeves are very narrow, or my bias cuffs stretched before I interfaced them, because there was no little bit of gathering or pleating—the sleeve fit smoothly right into the cuff. I always use this technique of Sherry’s to attach cuffs—I’m so happy I can link to that again! :) My one disappointment with the pattern was that there isn’t a real sleeve placket piece—the opening is just finished with a bias band. This is a technique that reads much more “blouse” to me than “shirt,” but whatever. It’s also fast and less nerve-wracking, so there is that. I’m pretty sure Tyo hasn’t noticed.
I have been trying to skip pocket templates lately, but it was not a good idea in this case. That was definitely three minutes well spent.
I initially planned to include bias pockets, pocket flaps, and front yokes, all great features included in the pattern. Except, when I got them all laid out, my eyes started to bleed. And I made the pockets and flaps in bias so I wouldn`t have to match the plaid, but I didn`t match the plaid of the flap to the plaid of the pocket. D’oh. In this busy fabric, it was much better to dial everything back and just use the pockets. Another piece of sideways.
My attempt to do a chevron back yoke by adding a CB seam there was foiled, as well. Turns out, when your plaid is very even (Like, the same stripes vertically and horizontally), the chevron effect doesn’t show up at all and you might as well just cut the whole thing in one bias piece.
One of the things I wanted to experiment with (this is encouraged in shop projects) was using a snap setter. I tried out this hammer-in style, that basically helps hold the snaps in place for you, and I also managed to figure out that the ancient set of pliers below, which have been kicking around my sewing hardware since I found them at my moms aeons ago, would also work for this size/style of snap. Which was a big relief. I have been so close to getting rid of these so many times, but I’m a hoarder at heart and couldn’t quite do it. I’m so glad I’ve figured out how to use them now.
I’m still not completely convinced that the snaps will hold, mind you, but we’ll see. One side of the collar stand popped right off, but the fabric there is really thick; I wish I would’ve trimmed my seam allowances much more aggressively.
The back of the Burda pattern has a centre seam and fisheye darts for shaping. Both of these seem like REALLY good ideas to me… but were not right for the shirt Tyo wanted. So I cut on the fold, and added a wee bit of ease to include a pleat below the yoke. I could probably have used a bit more, but oh well.
In any case, it’s done and hanging, and when she gets it back Tyo will be a very, very happy teenager.
So, a while back there was a bit of a kerfuffle in blogland about sponsored and otherwise compensated posts, projects, patterns, etc., and the need for transparency about such things. And I didn’t have a thing to say on the subject, because let’s face it, I’m barely managing to blog projects these days, never mind actually think about ethics and transparency and things like that and then write about it. Except that actually I do. Because, though I haven’t mentioned it on here, I’ve been working part time at my local Fabricland for almost three years now, and aside from the lovely people I work with, one of the major things that keeps me there is the chief perk—the staff projects.
You see, rather like the Mood Sewing Network, but with much less prestige and a much smaller viewing audience, every month I have the opportunity to pick out a project, within a budget, based on the fabrics and patterns available at my store. I make it up, it hangs for a month, inspiring customers and giving me (hopefully) plenty of opportunities to yack about how much I loved the fabric or pattern or technique, and then I trot it home and it’s mine, all mine.
I haven’t really wanted to blog about working there, because a) who wants to write about work, and b) I don’t want to feel like I’m either a corporate shill if I only say nice stuff, or an unprofessional employee if I say nasty stuff. But I have increasingly felt the need to come clean about which of my projects that I blog here are staff projects, because while the projects themselves are very self directed, it definitely does affect my choice of both fabric and patterns. While I would probably still be getting most of my fabric from Fabricland (local selections are fairly limited and heavily quilt-centric otherwise) projects give me the chance to use brand-new fabrics, rather than haunting the sale racks, and also to play with things I would not be able to afford. (Though the project budget is pretty limited, too.) And frankly with working there and at my day job, my sewing time is very limited, and a lot of it does end up being projects.
Initially I just didn’t blog shop projects—I’m not being paid for the blogging, after all, the projects have hung on display as per requirements, my obligation is met. But first and foremost this blog is my sewing journal, and I like to record the alterations I make, the changes, the struggles I have. Especially for years later when I can’t even remember what I did. And a lot of my own creativity goes into these things—I want to share that. Some of my very favourite things I make these days are projects
I don’t have time to go back over three years of posts and point out the culprits (though a large number of them are decorating this post), but I want to put it out there, for the sake of honesty, and being able to tell the whole story in the future. If you want to know about a specific project, please ask.
The second best thing about projects (after free patterns and fabric), is the deadline! They have to be completed within a fairly tight time-limit, so shit gets done. A luscious fabric doesn`t get purchased and then lurk in stash for heartbreaking months or years.
The flip side, of course, is that a lot of the stash doesn`t get touched.
Because of the tight deadline, it can be hard to pick complicated projects—it`s much easier to go with something you can whip up quickly.
But sometimes there`s just no resisting. When the right fabric and pattern come together, you’re off.
So that’s it. Mea culpa. I hope you aren’t mad (but if you are, well, I get it.) Going forward, I will be mentioning which projects are shop projects, which is a big relief because sometimes a big part of the story of why I picked a particular project is to do with that, and I do’t want to edit those stories out. Sometimes, they`re even pretty funny.