Ok, that was really fun.
I decided for my birthday this year I wanted to have a sewing day, since I now have a (moderately) spacious house and a gigantic dining room table. I invited a few friends (ok, mainly former co-workers), laid out my giant cardboard cutting mat on the dining room table, and brought my main sewing machine and serger up to the kitchen table.
I even cleaned my iron, which was a whole other adventure as I nearly killed it in the process. But the sole plate hasn’t been this clean since a month after I got it, so that’s good. (The process involved vinegar, salt, toothpaste, a little bit of heat, and a LOT of scrubbing. The near-death happened when I was trying to rinse all that guck off. I think water got inside somewhere it shouldn’t’ve. But it seems to be working again now so fingers crossed. )
My friends brought various projects, mainly handwork (one seam ripping), and I displayed my lack of millennial skills by getting absolutely NO pictures of everyone. So have some dark after shots instead. (Dawn, if you’re reading this, you forgot your fabric!)
There is one shot of me and Cee at the machines, taken by a friend, where I have a derpy face.
But what did I make, you ask?
I decided, at long last, to tackle the Blackwood Cardigan by Helen’s Closet.
This is one of those patterns that I was originally going to take a pass on. I’m not a fan of sweaters that don’t close, and it seemed easier to hack a similar style from my knit sloper. But, as cute versions kept popping up in my feed, I was more and more intrigued by the band construction. I wanted to take a look at the instructions. And I felt guilty shamelessly copying the style. I mean, it’s simple, but I didn’t think of it on my own. So when Helen had a sale sometime last spring, I bit, mainly for the instructions.
Of course, once you own the pattern, you might as well try it out, right? Save yourself redrafting all those rectangles and figuring out how much shorter to make the neck-band so it doesn’t gape.
So anyway, I printed the pattern the morning of my birthday, stuck it together after people arrived (a great activity for visiting)
Once I had it taped, I compared it with my knit sloper, and was very pleasantly surprised with the similarities—identical shoulder width, similar sleeve-cap and high armscye, just enough extra width in the sleeve for it to be a sweater, not a shirt. So aside from squaring the shoulders slightly and lengthening the sleeves about 4 cm, I cut out a straight size medium.
My fabric is technically a mystery jersey from a random group at Fabricland last spring. I got it because I was pretty convinced it was wool or a wool blend, and now having ironed it I’m pretty sure I’m correct. (I love the sheepy smell of wool when you steam it.) I thought it would be a good choice for a cardigan since it won’t need to be laundered as much. I steam-shrunk in my dryer, which is my preferred method of pre-treating wool although I confess I can’t completely recall how much subsequent laundering any of those things have had.
Anyway, I’m pretty thrilled with my result. I love the slim fit. I love the longer length. (I may have to make a floor-length version) I love the pockets, although I’m not totally in love with my application of them—but that’s a separate issue.
I do still wish it closed. I might add some kind of a loop and button, like the sweater I made my aunt last Christmas.
I could possibly make the shoulder a little more square—there’s a tiny back-neck bubble still—and the sleeves might be a little long now. But that’s how I like them, and if there is any further shrinking from laundering, I’ve got a bit of insurance, anyway. (And looking at the line drawings they’re supposed to be extra-long and slouchy, so there!)
But especially, I really, really, really like sewing with friends.
This post is inspired (just a little past due) by the Sewcialists blog theme for August: your
The day that changed was August 27, 2010. The day the 
She was notoriously vague about her location, even to continent, so I wouldn’t have ever expected to meet her. Except one day earlier that spring, she had posted about an unseasonal snowstorm, and I had commented that we were having the same crappy weather where I was. A private message followed and by some miracle it turned out that we were in the exact same city!
Back in those days, before people figured out you could charge for it, it was pretty common for sewing bloggers to slap together a free pdf pattern to share with the world (mine are still linked under the pattern tab here). The one Selfish was most famous for was her iconic 
I had always meant to make it but never quite got around to it—but as I started thinking about Sew Style Hero month for August, I kept coming back to The Selfish Seamstress and the dress.
And by a miracle I remembered to add all the seam allowances when I cut it out, whilst paying a ridiculous amount of attention to matching the plaids.
This fabric is a mystery suiting that has been in the stash almost since the last time I saw Selfish. It’s a grey plaid/houndstooth with little threads of pink that I can’t seem to get to photograph. It’s almost certainly polyester. In any case, it makes a good wearable muslin if nothing else. Because it’s a bit on the heavier side (and plaid) I cut the ruffle as a single layer on the bias. Time will tell if that was a good idea, I guess.
I did my “usual” grading between sizes: 36 shoulders and bust, 38 waist, 40 hips. I should have remembered that this is essentially an indie pattern. I should’ve cut the whole bodice a size 38. For that matter I could’ve cut the skirt size 38, too, but it’s easier to take in than let out. What really sucks is that I kept thinking (since this fabric has a lot of give) that it would work out, so I kept going, and by the time I had the zipper in for a full try-on I’d already aggressively clipped my seams at the underarm facing, only to discover I couldn’t even zip the damn thing up.
Then I sacrificed my careful, impeccable plaid matching at the back seam, ripped out the zipper, and re-sewed it in with minimal seam allowances. This gave me the extra inch or so I needed at the bust, but I had to take quite a bit out at the waist. That’s ok though. Taking out is ok.
All in all, the dress is cute but I don’t feel fabulous in it. The bodice is a bit short (a known feature of this pattern, but I tend to have a short torso so I wasn’t too worried) even on me. Mainly I think I don’t love the fabric–it’s pretty but doesn’t feel nice, and gets really staticky. I guess there was a reason it had been in stash seven years. In any case, almost more than the dress itself I enjoyed posting about it on Instagram, revisiting and sharing memories of the Selfish Seamstress with people I’ve known since the “old days” of blogging, and many more who I didn’t know back then. Check out the posts under #selfishseamstressfanclub on instagram if you’re interested. Or share some memories here, especially if you made this dress back in the day!
While I didn’t accomplish a lot on my summer vacation this year (other than 
The oldest is this Sewaholic Patterns 
This is too bad because when I finally did sew it up it only took about an hour. And it’s using some really nice fabrics—a wicking activewear, some proper power mesh for lining, with a lighter mesh for the sheer part.
The construction was complicated compared to the other sports bras I’ve made, which is not actually complicated in the grand scheme of things. The lining seams and the outer seams don’t line up because the outer layer has the side panels. This is actually nice because you don’t have as much bulk at the seam lines, but it confused the heck out of me (especially picking up the pieces years after cutting out.) I skipped the optional pockets for foam inserts, which made my befuddled brain happy but made me a little disappointed in myself since I had cut the pieces and everything.
The only other tricky bit was figuring out whether the top and bottom edges had seam allowance (they do), which I trimmed off from the top because I wanted to use fold-over elastic.
Last fall I had cut out a pair of Eléonore pants from a black denim-print ponte. I had issues with the topstitching and wound up stuffing them in a bag in frustration. Well, I finally put on my big girl pants and took another stab at it. I had to abandon the actual topstitching thread and use a triple straight stitch with regular thread instead. The only problem is that none of my machines will do a long stitch on this setting, which annoys me. But at least it’s done, and you have to look pretty close to notice the difference.
I have been doing all my topstitching lately on an old (80s) Elna a friend gave me. It doesn’t blink at topstitching thread (except with this stretchy fabric) but more importantly it’s got this weird air-bubble foot pedal that gives amazing control—the best I’ve had in a non-computerized machine—and an adjustable speed that goes from painfully slow (perfect for topstitching) to so fast you have to adjust the tension because the thread is getting pulled so quickly (perfect for topstitching with a triple stitch, which seems painfully slow otherwise)
They don’t stay up terribly well; I should probably put belt-loops on.
After getting those out of the way, I stumbled upon a remnant of black lingerie knit (nylon tricot) I picked up shortly before the store closed down. I’ve been meaning to make a black slip for a while—basically since I made 
I’ve had this vintage Basic Knits pattern in my drawer of “patterns I’d like to make” for, well, quite a while. And, of course, I went with the version that’s almost identical to the Kwik Sew 717 I made before. Actually because I was lazy and didn’t want to have to trace and cut out two separate cup pieces for the princess seam version.
I cut the 36 bust grading to the 38 in the hips, and I took the bust in a tiny bit at the side seams. I could’ve gone another size larger in the hips. I’m not sure how I turned into a pear shape but apparently I have. I think I like the bust shape in the Kwik Sew pattern a little better, but this one will be perfectly functional, and I’ve needed a basic black slip for a long time. Oh, and I shortened the skirt by about 6″, because as drafted it would’ve been well below my knee.
That may have been a bit excessive, as it’s pretty short, but it’s easier to wear a short slip under a long dress than the reverse. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’ll be a good addition to the wardrobe come slip season… which is getting distressingly close here.
Anyway, so looking around for something else, I spied this fabric, which I bought my girls for Christmas presents last year. (This is what happens, teenagers, when you make the mistake of showing interest in your mom’s hobbies.)
After a bit of digging I decided Kwik Sew 2893 seemed like a good place to start. While it’s styled like a baseball tee, it’s roomier than 
It’s a kids pattern but the XL is a size 12-14, which is about the same chest measurement as Tyo, and I figured if it didn’t fit Syo it would fit Tyo, and if Tyo didn’t like it it would work for Fyon, who is a very skinny eleven now. This is the convenient part of having multiple girls in the family, even if they don’t stairstep quite as neatly as they used to.
I wanted a slightly cropped length, partly just to use less fabric in this tester version, so I made it the length of the Extra Small size. This is still significantly longer than the sweater at the top of the post, and as it turned out, while it makes a short sweater, it’s not what I would call cropped.
At the last moment I decided to include the pocket, also in a size XS, because it’s nice for teenagers to have somewhere to stuff their phones. This was pretty simple, although more stabilization might’ve been nice. I did knit interfacing strips along the opening parts.
None of the grey ribbings I have in stash were a perfect match, but this one was the best. I could also try black at some point, that might be fun.
Anyway. While I was sewing it up I was convinced I was making a sweater for Fyon, but Syo tried it on and it fits her. It also fits Tyo but the length is awkward—longer than cropped but not as long as she’d like a normal length sweater. On the other hand she didn’t take it off and went on to sleep in it, so I guess it’s not that bad.
And it’s one tiny piece less taking up space in my stash.
After the Great Linen Pants Debacle, I needed a palate cleanser. And, as it just so happens, after looking for it all summer my copy of 
The pattern is dead simple, although I complicate it slightly by adding a back seam, for fit and fabric frugality. And I add a much wider flare to the skirt, because the skirt as drafted is too narrow for proper walking, which adaptation I actually haven’t put on the pattern—I draft it out on my fabric every time. I should really change my pattern. Someday.
I was very careful about centering the large motif on the front. Less so about where the parts of the motif would fall—maybe not the most flattering arrangement over the bust. On the other hand the design was a bit of a border print so I was running my pattern pieces on the cross-grain, so any wiggling up or down would’ve required piecing or shortening.
I’m pretty happy with how my bindings at arm and neck worked out. I was a good girl and did lots of testing. It’s the same triple-fold binding I almost always use, with the inclusion of 1/4″ clear elastic for stability because my non-elasticated tests tended to go wavy when stretched. I did not test my hem and it is not nearly as nice. Should’ve used steam-a-seam.
I’m kinda bored with this modestly scooped neckline after my four other versions of this dress, so I really should’ve changed it up. A square would’ve been nice, or maybe a V in the back. Anyway, so I added some decorative buttons. A lace-up détail would’ve been nice, too, but would have required more forethought and planning than I had put into it.
Other than that, there’s not much to say. It’s quite long. It’ll get worn.
And it’s my last bit of vacation sewing.
Did I mention lately that I don’t need any clothes? I really really don’t. My husband, on the other hand, is in dire straits. Since he hasn’t needed a professional wardrobe for years now, and he hates shopping and is super picky, everything in his closet is ancient, worn out, and often ill-fitting.
And guys, he’s hard to sew for. Lord knows I’ve tried over the years, and sometimes I’ve succeeded (most often with loose overshirts.)
But did I mention he’s picky? Nothing gets a “oh, that’s perfect!” Everything gets criticism that at best is constructive but at worst is just demoralizing. He’s fussy about fit, fussy about fabric, fussy about style.
Anyway, he needed some cool pants for the summer. He won’t wear shorts (see the part about picky) and while he couldn’t quite articulate it, I was pretty sure some casual linen pants would fill the slot.
I was initially thinking very plain and simple, as much of a fit test as anything else. Then I made the mistake of telling him what I was making.
I had picked the 
The first mistake was letting him see the pattern. Not that he didn’t love the details (the ones I was going to skip, you recall). He just wanted even more. Zip off legs! Accordion pleat in the back!
But I really don’t need more clothes, and he does. So I took a deep breath, and “compromised” by doing the added details as per the pattern, but not doing stupid zip off legs that he’ll never actually unzip because he only ever does that while wading in water fishing and if he takes his black linen pants fishing I’ll kill him. I don’t think he considers this a compromise.
Anyway, I don’t actually mind the process of constructing cargo pockets and the other reinforcements were very simple. (And frankly as cargo pockets go, the ones in this pattern are pretty Lite(TM). Just a couple of pleats. Not really 3D at all. I was actually a wee bit disappointed.) I did the pleats a wee bit too deep so the pockets are a bit small for their flaps. This turned out to be the least of my worries, however.
When I traced out the pattern, I added length. My husband isn’t that tall, but he does tend to be long-legged and too- short jeans are a common issue.
Let’s just say they would not have been an issue as is. There seemed to be about 6″ of extra length on each leg, and I only added about 2″. I wound up making a 1″ tuck above the cargo pocket (topstitched down) and adding a seam to take out about 5″ more between knee and hem. Edit: and it turns out that was a little too much now that he’s actually sitting down in them. FML.
Because when worn “high” (aka as they should be) they’re way short even on me. But when we tested the length he had them slung low. Argh!!!
I also discovered when I went to sew them up (AFTER the cargo pockets were all in place, of course) that I must’ve screwed up my tracing, because my front and back inseams are about an inch off. WTF? Side seams match fine. Anyway, in the end I eased the extra length in. This will probably cause problems at some point, but linen eases pretty nicely.
I wanted an elasticised waistband to accommodate his wildly fluctuating waist, and after some thought decided to go with the old buttonhole elastic. Maybe overkill in this situation, but the oversized pants would’ve been beyond wearable without it. Hopefully the convenience of the adjustability will outweigh the weirdness of the finish to him. What I didn’t do (which I would have in more fitted pants) was add some height to the back rise. I assumed the over-sized-ness would compensate. I was wrong. So they’re a little low for his taste back there.
I probably overdid it on the sizing up. Next version, I will size down, add height to back waist, and reduce the length a couple of inches.
First, and most obvious, were the shop projects. Having a monthly budget of “free” fabric and deadlines changes what you chose to sew.
Having my pick of any big 4 (or later McVoguerick, after they turfed Simplicity) pattern meant I tended to choose from those rather than an indie pattern (which I’d have to buy myself) or a vintage pattern in my collection (which was discouraged since people will be inspired and probably want to know where they can get that pattern, and if it’s out of print they’ll get bummed out.) I also tended to go with new ones every time. Not a lot of TNT makes, nor of things already in my disgustingly massive pattern collection.
Second, instead of using fabric from stash, every project came from the store. This means you get to try shiny new fabrics, and use things I wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise, but it also meant the stash just got bigger and bigger. It’s not like you stop buying stuff! (Although Fabricland staff prices aren’t anything to write home about, you’re there for ALL THE SALES and you’re right there when stuff gets marked down at the end of a season. There is still plenty of temptation to buy.) If you wanted to make something right away, you tried to figure out how to do it as a project, because everything else went on the back burner.
Third is a bit more subtle. Projects that would boost your skills and try out new products were encouraged. Projects that get people excited were, too. Which, as you probably can guess, means it was fun to make a lot of dresses. Sometimes stupid, crazy, fancy dresses. With a strict two week deadline (and keep in mind I was working two jobs for most of this span, so limited sewing time at home) it was hard to tackle really involved projects like coats, or to muslin things. But a quick, fun dress? Perfect!
Next is its effect on what I wear. Shortly after I started working at Fabricland, the simple good marketing of wearing things I had made became obvious—but not just anything. The jeans and tees that had dominated a lot of my sewing while I was in grad school, trying to disappear into the background, don’t make anyone ask “Did you make that?” The dresses did. Those same ones I was conveniently making for impractical but fun projects. And I’ve always been one for binges of overdressing, so a perfect storm was created. I was making crazy dresses. I was wearing crazy dresses. I had a REASON to wear crazy dresses. This week, without that reason, I haven’t quite reverted to form, but it’s felt different. My day job doesn’t have much of a dress code and doesn’t directly interface with the public, so that drive is missing. On the other hand, there are several of us who enjoy playing with our wardrobes, so I don’t think the dresses are suddenly going to languish. But I may not make quite as many of them.
But the biggest thing I’m missing already is the interaction. These people were my sewcialists. The staff (and some customers!) were always talking about what we were making. Everyone had their specialties, from self-drafted unique pieces to quilts to intricate hanstitched felt creations. We learnt a lot from each other—but most importantly we had a lot of fun.
There are the things I don’t miss, as well. Crabby customers. Corporate policy decisions that seem designed to create crabby customers. Constant, brutal price hikes (many items more than doubled their price in the five years I worked there). Interpersonal drama. Stone-aged (ok, pre-computer-era) inventory and ordering processes. Sometimes this stuff seemed overwhelming in the moment. Yet as soon as it was taken away, I find myself focusing on the good. The fun, the people, the shared love of making.
Then there’s the identity.
Fortunately, teaching sewing seems to be an option for keeping that feeling alive. More of the classes have been going through, and I’m really enjoying teaching. I have a fairly full lineup of classes ready for the fall, and ideas about others in the future. Beyond that–well, we’ll have to see.
In the meantime, I’m re-learning what it feels like to sew at my own pace, pick my projects based on stash, and taking a few deep breaths. I’ll be ok without work projects and deadlines. But I definitely want to maintain the relationships, even while I figure out who I am, sewing after Fabricland.
I’m kinda a fangirl for Jalie Patterns (if you hadn’t noticed, go read every post I’ve ever written about their jeans, or their maxi-dress pattern, or that one with the shorts and crop-top/sports bra.) But given the size of my pattern stash, I REALLY shouldn’t be buying every cute little pattern that wafts itself past my face. So I was trying REALLY hard not to bite when their new batch of patterns came out this spring.
And then there was 
I love the forward-thrown side seam on the underwear, too. I’m sure no one remembers 
The only problem with a pattern like this is often my versions don’t come back to me after the kids do the wash. I guess it’s a compliment when your teenagers steal your clothes? Well, bralets, anyway. As long as they don’t steal the underwear.
I’ve been slow to warm up to bralets. I remember a sporty little CK one I got at my husband’s behest in my early twenties—the elastic tended to cut into the underside of my boobs and create, in my head at least, the illusion of sagginess that wasn’t actually there. I made a couple of Watson bralets when the pattern first came out, but the long-line version doesn’t work with my ribcage and the band felt too structured for something that didn’t really do much. But lately I’ve been wanting something a teeny bit more supportive than a snug camisole but without any hard parts, for wearing around the house on days off when I don’t even want to look at an underwire. Julia seemed like it might fit the bill.
I’m a bit ambivalent about the darts (I keep having to lengthen them, but in one version I just skipped them and eased the extra in and that seemed to work well), and I need to break down and order some metal hardware for the straps (or buy locally but Fabricland doesn’t carry metal rings and sliders), but I think on the whole it’s pretty much what I was looking for.
I do love the fun racer back. The upper point of the tank is wider than that of the cami, which makes for an interesting bit of fullness when you overlay them. And very soon now I’ll have some days off where I can enjoy it! (Also the pants are 
Apparently since all my (minuscule amount of) free time is no longer occupied with Fabricland projects, my vulnerability to the lure of the Shiny New Indie Pattern has re-emerged. Or something. Anyway—first 
Ok, the Avery was for a class I was teaching, but anyway. Fiona just hit me in all the right places. You may have noticed I have a bit of a thing for button-front sundresses, and sundresses with a band detail across the top. Add in that fabulous low-back option? The only thing I might have changed was a fuller skirt, but on the other hand the columnar shape is one I don’t already have in my wardrobe. And it’s good to try something new.
Well, high hopes can be a curse as much as a blessing, and I kind of struggled with this pattern. Which is fine since this was meant to be a wearable muslin, but it’s still a fairly intensive pattern. Them’s a lot of buttonholes.
Anyway, trying to figure out how a button-front bodice with criss-cross straps and a back overlap is fitting before things are all sewn together is pretty tricky. There are a lot of variables. Initially I thought I could take in the waist by increasing the back crossover. This seemed to work, and I attached the straps, trimming about an inch and a half off (as I had expected since I’m fairly short-waisted). But then when I got the skirt on, it was pulling up weirdly at the back. Releasing the overlap to its original amount (and then taking it in at the sides, and then also taking it in at the princess seams over the bust) fixed most of that. But then my straps were too short. So I opted for a halter closure.
After all that, the skirt itself is pretty much as-is, though I made the rear darts a bit deeper and they could perhaps be a smidgeon longer. The grading to the smaller size at the waist changes the side curve, and I could probably tweak it a bit, but it’s not bad.
I’ll add a little bit about my construction here. The fabric I picked, which looks like linen, is apparently actually ramie, which is a bast fibre from a different plant (a member of the nettle family, which I always think is neat possibly because I watched 
I did the buttonholes on my grandma’s Singer Rocketeer, which made them largely painless although the metal grip that jerks the fabric around seems to have done some damage to the lightweight ramie. That would’ve been another foot reason to use a wash away stabilizer… note to self.
There’s an oddity with mine in that the soft no-slip plastic “shoe” on the foot seems to slip forward and get in the way of the needle. I had to trim parts of it away with scissors to get it to work at all. But once I did it worked really, really well. Just hand-wheel the first couple of stitches until you get really good at gauging where the holes need to be.
The blue buttons were my kids’ suggestion. Left to my own devices I would’ve gone with white (actually, I would’ve liked metal but I didn’t have twenty random matching metal buttons. These blue ones were just about the only non-white buttons I had in anything like the right quantity and size. )
I don’t know if I’m overly in love with this version—I had a hard time getting photos I liked. (On the other hand it was the end of a long hot day where I spent several hours walking, so my makeup was basically gone and the hair was hanging on by a thread). I do think the band at the top is too loose, maybe not enough to show but it doesn’t feel as secure as it might. But it’s still pretty fun and I like the overall look.
This version arose out of my intermittent but recurring attempts at scrapbusting. (So far no significant reduction in scrap volume has been observed, but I keep trying.) I had just enough of this lovely textured cotton for the top, spliced in a bit of another lightweight cotton for the bottom, added some lace (as well as some more width at the hip) and, I almost have a little dress!
I had to take some closeup selfies to get the fabric to show up. I suck at these, by the way.
Unfortunately, apparently I have no shorts at all to pop it over. Maybe I need to steal them from my children. I usually have just lopped off old jeans into cutoffs but certain increases in the derrière department mean that my last generation of jeans either doesn’t fit any more or has disintegrated at the thigh and butt rather than just going at the knee. So I might have to make shorts, or worse, buy them. I kinda hate making shorts for shorts sake, I gotta say. They’re just as much work as pants but I only wear them a few days a year. So maybe a good candidate for buying.
I should mention that I found the bust snug in my first version, but I don’t in this version. I’m guessing the fabric I used this time has more give.
I’m not super in love with the straps—I could’ve done them thinner and positioned the front wider—but I like the criss-cross in the back. The non-criss-crossy straps are my bra, by the way.
None of my pictures show the lace on the bottom very well. This is some of my favourite lace of all time. I didn’t do a good job finishing the raw edge though. Shhh.
Other than that I’m pretty happy with the finishing. I finished the top with more single-fold bias tape, and I even remembered to sew on the straps in front first. I did the buttonholes on my modern Janome, which never goes as well as with the vintage buttonholer on my Rocketeer, but I was impatient.
All in all, I think it’s pretty cute. Maybe needs some teeny little shorts to go underneath. Summery and casual. Well, casual for me. Come on now.
Tanit-Isis Sews 