Tag Archives: finished projects

Cavity alert

If my first version of the Fancy Tiger sailor top was sweet, this one is absolutely cloying. Brush your teeth after reading this. 

Tyo is wondering why I’m making mom clothes. 😂

I am teaching a class on this pattern in August. I have to know how to make it. Also it’s cute. It is cute, right?

This version is the promo sample—it’s now hanging in Periwinkle Quilting so that people will hopefully be inspired to sign up for the class. 😉 The fabric is from there as well, and is a luscious double gauze. It’s very exciting to work with a fabric I’ve read about for so long. 

And, I got the recommended amount (2.2m) but was able to squeeze the top out of less so I actually have 90cm left over! Maybe the fabric’s a bit wider than I thought. So, I should be looking at woven cami patterns or something. 
The pattern has pretty good instructions (and I found the missing match point on my sleeve pattern so I didn’t have to unpick gathering this time!) but doesn’t call for any interfacing of the neck band. This may be fine for quilt cottons, but I’ve added some in both my versions and I’m happy about it. For this version it was just a layer of cotton lawn. The pattern also doesn’t call for understitching, which I did on both the neck band and the sleeves’ faced hems. 

I maintain that it is still somewhat sassy, despite the utter sweetness of the pattern, not at all helped by my choice of fabric or the pompom trim lace. (It was dying for the lace, c’mon!)

I may be wrong. I am in the latter half of my thirties, after all. 

Ah well. Sometimes it’s fun to make something outside my usual style. 

This is made up exactly as per the pattern, except I added about 1″ to the width of the back, which helps. I could’ve made it a bit longer. Oh, and the jeans in these photos are what’s left of my very first pair of me-made jeans, from 2010. 😳

So, maybe not my “style” exactly, but adorable and enjoyable to make. Plus, a good fit with minimal alterations. I think it will serve its purpose admirably. 

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A walk in the park (in a white muslin dress)

early1800 dress (405 of 417)

A few weeks ago, amidst about fifty other exhausting things, I made it out of the house one glorious April afternoon to wander the north-campus parks area with my sister-in-law… just coincidentally wearing my dress version of McCall’s M7493.

What version, you ask? Well, I would’ve sworn I blogged about it, but apparently (as happens all too often) I only wrote a draft, even more poorly photographed than usual, to the point where I didn’t have the heart to publish it. If you were following my Instagram (@tanitisis) back in, oh, February, you might have seen some of the terrible selfies. If not, please don’t go dig them up.

A border-embroidered fabric that seemed perfect for a Regency-style dress had come in at work, during that horrific post-New Years juxtaposition where all the stores start getting their spring and summer goods, but we Canadians still have two or three months of winter to deal with. What better way to avoid the reality of winter than a bit of historical fantasy, right? So, I decided to take the plunge and give the dress version of McCall’s M7493 (of Pride & Prejudice & Zombies fame) a go. The dress is not at all well illustrated on the envelope, but the line drawing looked cute. You may recall I made the coat for Syo’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies costume last Hallowe’en. I am happy to report that the coat goes very well with the dress.

After checking the final measurements, I went with my proper size, 12—in McCall’s I often make a 10 as I tend to like the shoulder fit there better. But I wasn’t too concerned about wide shoulders here—the wider-set the better, really—and the finished measurements given were only 1.5″ design ease. Which is about right in my books.

early1800 dress (398 of 417)I actually skipped most of my usual fitting changes. I didn’t shorten the bodice, I didn’t sway back (maybe I should have, not for actual swayback fitting but to give a more authentic line), and given the narrow shoulder I didn’t square that. I did raise the underarm by about 1 cm, to make up for not shortening the bodice, and I stand by that decision.

I did make a few style changes. The most obvious is swapping in a straight sleeve to show off some more of the embroidery. I basically measured the width I would want (my arm + 2″, although I ended up narrowing it by 1/2″, so I guess I shoulda gone with my arm + 1.5″). I measured the length to the highest point, and then freehanded the rest; I wanted the sleeve seam to fall more to the back, although I’m not completely sure that’s correct for single-piece sleeves of the period. The main goal was for one of the spikes of embroidery to come up my arm toward the shoulder, and for the underarm not to be too deep.

To my absolute astonishment, this actually worked. They went in amazingly well, basically first try. Most of the folds in the above pic are from my chemise (which has much wider sleeves) bunching underneath. Probably one could fuss a bit with the rotation, but, after picking my jaw up off the floor, I wasn’t going to mess with anything.

early1800 dress (329 of 417).jpgThe armscye is comfortably high and I can raise my arm quite well.

early1800 dress (395 of 417)There are a couple of features of the dress that don’t show on the line drawing that I want to mention:

1) The shoulder seam is thrown to the back, as it should be for this period. Yay!

early1800 dress (409 of 417)2) the front skirt is “eased” (aka lightly gathered) to the front bodice, which is rather period but also rather, um, enhancing of the five-month-pregnant look that is a frequent byproduct of the era. I wound up ripping off the skirt, smoothing out all gathers in this area (shifting the skirt side seam toward the back in the process ) and focusing all the gathering between the rear princess seams at the back. I’m tempted, looking at the pictures, to rip it off again and move the bodice gathering to centre front, too, but we’ll see how ambitious I get. I still pretty much look pregnant, mind you. But then I often do even in regular clothes, so I won’t fuss too much about that. 😂

Kinda like this one. (Which my Pinterest tells me should be from the Met but the direct link is broken.)

early1800 dress (346 of 417)Anyway, other than the looking-pregnant thing (maybe time to finish those white long stays I started before Hallowe’en) and the puffiness of the bodice gathers, there are two medium-grade issues:

1) “Waistline” dips towards the back. Emphasized, no doubt, by my tilted torso, the back looks distinctly longer than the front. Period tendency is for the back to ride higher, like a bra that sags down in front. 😉 although the side-view of the same dress as above shows a slight dip to the rear.

early1800 dress (375 of 417)2) the straight-hem problem. Because the embroidered hem is of necessity straight, while the pattern piece curved, the centre-front of the skirt is distinctly shorter, to the point where it shows a couple of inches of my petticoat. I was planning on making a different petticoat for this one anyway, and I knew the skirt would do that, so I’m not overly bothered, but there it is. Other petticoat is made and is short enough. Which means I have two different Regency petticoats, and only one Regency dress.

early1800 dress (67 of 417)As I wasn’t entirely happy with the slightly blousy bodice, I made a quick lace-up-front vest to go with, which I do quite like. I used the dress bodice pattern pieces, but kept the original dart (which I converted to gathers in the dress) itself. I lowered the neckline a bit, which I like; were I to make the dress again I’d lower its neckline as well, as I don’t quite have the “popping out the top” effect that so many period illustrations seem to show. I used fabric left over from the coat, and some of the satin bias binding I’d made for the coat as well—using up nearly every scrap, in fact. So I’ll call that a win.

early1800 dress (122 of 417)That pretty much sums up everything that needed to be said about the dress.

early1800 dress (109 of 417)However, I’m vain, and Angel Jems took over 400 pictures, of which only about 300 of them have my hair doing something weird or me making wonky faces, so I’ll subject you to a few more, including some better shots of the coat.

early1800 dress (89 of 417)We went all over the various parks north of the U of S campus, trying to find locations without too much obviously modern detritus. Railway tracks in the background are a little incongruous, I suppose.

early1800 dress (295 of 417)I just really like this one.

early1800 dress (14 of 417)The coat twirls most excellently.

early1800 dress (36 of 417)

The collar needs some encouragement to sit properly in its folds, but I’m pretty happy with it nonetheless.early1800 dress (25 of 417)There is a LOT of fabric in those back pleats.early1800 dress (42 of 417)I do wish there was a version or view of the full-length coat where the skirt met in the front. I couldn’t find any period examples of pelisses with a cutaway front like this. I mean, this coat is from the PPZ movie, so it had to be that way, and it wouldn’t be a hard pattern mod, but it would’ve been nice to just have it.early1800 dress (39 of 417)

See, great collar! Even if neither historically accurate nor screen accurate. Now why didn’t she tell me my ribbon was on backwards?early1800 dress (40 of 417)

Apparently, the Regency is one of the few historical periods that I could actually dress as without a wig and have some measure of accuracy—at least some women did for a time wear the “coiffure a Titus” with hair short at the back, longer around the face, and tousled with pomade. Ding ding ding! 🙂early1800 dress (29 of 417)

 

Yeah, the dress is nice, but I really like that coat. I feel like I could just about talk myself into wearing it for every day… 😉

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A shrunken little cardigan

One of my favourite things in the (wardrobe) world is a teensy little cardigan. I have one favourite and several less favourites that I wear almost daily over my less-seasonally-appropriate dresses. They’ve even ousted the vintage shrugs for my favourite little topper, if only because I find the lower neckline more versatile. (And they keep your core a little warmer.)

And they’re all store-bought. I’ve been collecting odds and ends of sweater knits for several years, at this point, meaning to make my own, but I hadn’t quite taken the plunge, for whatever reason. 

Well, now I have. 

I used my handy-dandy knit sloper pattern. While I think this was a wise choice, it is intended for fairly fitted, stretchy things and while I do like my little cardigans little, I think a wee bit more “fitting over other clothes” ease might be in order. This is a fairly firm “quilted” knit, but I was assuming the ribbing would be a little wimpy, when in fact it is an extremely beefy ribknit. 

I cut my pattern at the “waist” line (which is a little high). I planned the V neck to end where my rather deep scoop normally does, but due to the snugness I don’t think I’ll bother adding snaps all the way up. 

The fabric is a quilted knit from a couple of winters ago, the same as I used for this white sweater. (In a bit of a wearability report, The fabric pilled almost instantly but didn’t get noticeably worse after that, and it has been the best snuggly thing to wear under my winter coat for two winters now, until the bottom portion of the two-way zippercame off a few weeks ago leaving me crushed and bereaved.)

I reinforced the bottom of the bottom band with clear elastic, which as it turns out was a bit of overkill. Noted. I also used knit interfacing on the portions of the front bands meant to be part of the closure, but that wasn’t terribly effective at least on the bottom band. 

I actually think I like it best open.  You can see the marking where I meant to add another snap, but my snap hardware supply is a little more depleted than I realized, and I had enough caps but not all the other bits. 

I promptly misplaced this after I finished it, and then got sick, so it hasn’t been worn in the field yet, and I don’t think the grey will be quite as versatile as black but, on the other hand, you know how much grey I’ve been sewing lately. 😉 

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Can’t leave the linen (look)

2017-04-02 18.17.25The day I finished the linen(ish) jersey Vogue 1312, a minor miracle happened: my husband and the kids all went to dinner at my brother-in-law’s, and left me home alone.*

MORE SEWING TIME!

Since I was still feeling the love for the linen-flavoured knits (and was about to surrender my new dress to hanging in the shop for a month), I pulled out a bargain centre end piece, maybe 1.5m, of a mystery knit that looks very similar to my lightly-linen knit—though I think it’s mainly, and perhaps entirely, rayon. Also quite raggedy around the selvedges.

2017-04-02 18.18.16Wanting a more typical riff on the handkerchief hem, I grabbed my knit sloper and modified to make it more of a dress length and flaring to a handkerchief hem, kinda like this:

Swing dress schematicThough I think my width was wider (basically the full width of the fabric, less whatever I lost trimming down the tattered selvedge.) I did this with Oona-esque abandon, drafting it right out on the fabric. It’s not particularly even and I’m not particularly fussed. I was pleasantly surprised to find it’s dress-length, as I wasn’t really expecting more than a tunic. Not complaining.

2017-04-02 18.17.58Once that was cut, I didn’t have enough fabric left for full-length sleeves, so, 3/4 sleeves. Ah, well.

2017-04-02 18.17.41

That was some way-too-instant gratification. Also I feel like I could way overdo the handkerchief hems. Just sayin’.

*Let me insert a bit of clarification, here. I love people. I love MY people. But at my core, I’m an introvert. And these days, except for the few minutes in my car to and from work, I’m almost never, ever alone. So when I do get a few hours to myself, it’s like plunging into ice water, like suddenly being able to breathe, like waking up after a long, refreshing sleep. It’s very hard for my extrovert husband to understand, though I know he tries. 

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Linen shift for the 21st Century

Because I’m a sucker, I signed up for two versions of Vogue 1312 for this work project. For the second one, I impulsively pounced on this marled jersey with a hint (15%, actually) of linen. The rest polyester. I’m more forgiving of polyester in knits than most other situations but it does annoy me when they add a “good” fibre (usually linen or wool) in such a small quantity that they’re basically just going for the name on the label. To be fair, you can feel the linen in this—it makes it slightly scratchy. Also there’s no spandex. Knits without spandex almost always make me nervous. 

I was a bit leery of using a pattern for a woven in a jersey, too, but considering how snug the grey version was (and how high the armscye) I went for it. I did make one initial alteration—I lengthened the long sleeve pattern piece by about 10″, so that I could add clear elastic to the seam and scrunch them up. I am very content with how this turned out. 

I knew given the thinness of the jersey that I wanted to self-line the bodice. To give the neck a clean finish I sewed up the shoulders and then sewed the necklines together in a circle, stabilizing with 1/4″ clear elastic. I love 1/4″ clear elastic. I flipped the pieces so the wrong sides are together and the stitching and elastic was hidden between the two layers, then I basted the edges so the two layers would stay together and constructed the rest like a regular unlined T-shirt. There was a bit more ease in the sleeve cap than I like in a knit, but not much, and I did get them in without much difficulty, so I can’t really complain. Once I had the bodice put together I did take in the side seams and upper parts of the sleeve about 1.5cm on each seam, to snug it up a bit in my no-spandex poor recovery fabric. 

I did a lot more basting on the jersey version, to get the skirt on nicely as well as control the double-layered bodice, and it worked well for the most part.

 My corners on the skirt aren’t good, but I wasn’t sufficiently fussed to unpick. On the soft jersey skirt I like them better poked to the inside out of sight anyway. The only thing I’m second guessing at this point is not lining the upper portion of the skirt. I didn’t want the weight, but it’s kinda sheer, so I will need to wear a slip with the dress. Not the end of the world, but one of the things I was hoping to avoid with the self-lined bodice. 

I stabilized the waistline with clear elastic. I was initially worried this pulled it in too much and would create a bloused effect, but once the full weight of the skirt was in place it seems to be ok. 

I debated on the hem quite a bit, as I liked the softness of the raw edge, but this fabric has a strong tendency to curl, which I knew would drive me nuts in short order. A rolled hem was equally flippy, so I eventually settled on a steam-a-seam-enhanced turned and twin-needled hem. It doesn’t add much bulk or stiffness and hopefully won’t flip up too much. Youch  that was a lot of steam-a-seam though!

Sadly, there are no pockets in the jersey version. Right choice? I’m not sure. 

We’ve been watching The Last Kingdom on Netflix and this is reminding me, in a completely-not-historically-accurate way, of mediaeval shifts and linen undergowns. And it seems to demand silly ballet poses, as well. I was completely at a loss as to the right shoes, hence the sock feet. 

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Yet another grey dress

I’ve been on a grey kick for a while now. And I’ve already got two pale grey woven dresses made in the last year. So I tried really hard to resist this pale grey shirting/chambray stuff that came into the store. Also it’s a cotton-poly blend, so not nearly as exciting as, say, linen. 

And then I happened to be flipping through the book and stumbled on Vogue 1312. Very unlike either of my previous light grey dresses. Sold!

I made a refreshing number of zero changes to the pattern (!)—straighy size 10. Which is technically down a size. It’s a bit snug—would’ve been perfect if my fabric had more give, unwearable if it had less. 

Those are some amazingly high armholes, by the way! Great for me, but if you have large arms beware. (Dude, this is not a new pattern, I’m sure there are a million other reviews out there with the same info.)

This is, by the way, the same kind of skirt as Shams’ Tablecloth Skirt tutorial from way back in the mists of 2011. Not sure if the Vogue pattern precedes Shams’ tutorial or not. Edit: Pattern is copyright 2012, so after, but I bet they were working on it already. The skirt is totally simple to draft your own. That being said there’s a subtle up-and-down to the bodice’s raised waist that really adds to the look, so I wouldn’t say the pattern’s a waste either. 

There is no back zipper, which makes neat-finishing the self-lined bodice a little trickier. 

I didn’t do the tidiest job ever on my points, but I’m not sweating it too much. 

I added pockets to the side seams just below the zipper. So happy. I am trying harder to remember to do this, as I’m just so much happier when I have a pocket to stuff my keys in at work. 

The best part about that up-down hem? It’s a perfectly straight line to hem, and you don’t have to correct for the skirt dropping on the bias because it’s supposed to be up-and-down!

My biggest dumb moment was deciding to put the side zip in upside down, so I wouldn’t have an annoying tab in my armpit all day. Well, the annoying tab is now annoyingly visible down on my hip. So, not a win, really, especially since the zipper is considerably darker grey than the fabric. A white zipper might’ve been better. Also it was a brat to set in—I should’ve used a lot more stabilizer. Someday I’ll learn. I keep saying that. 

All in all pretty happy. What a fun shape, and it feels springy without being something I’ll have to wait months to wear (unlike these red heeled sandals I just found at Value Village.) And I had barely used up half my project budget on this dress, so I added a second on the way in a marled linen-blend jersey (left in the first pic)—I’ve been warned the skirt gets quite heavy in jersey, but it’s lightweight so we’ll see how that goes. 

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An accidental wedding dress. 

For some reason I got excited and took all these photos before hemming the under-layer of the skirt. WTF, Tanit?


Self delusion is painfully real, and even the best fall prey to it. I do it all the time, so you’ve probably heard this story here before. 

A fabric came in at work. Specifically, a beaded bridal lace. Look, I dunno what fancy bridal fabrics YOUR Fabricland gets, but mine is not the fancy store. We don’t see this stuff often. 

But I don’t need to be making a wedding dress. I have neither time nor desire. Nor a use, so we’re very clear. Hubs and I are perilously close to 18 years shacked up, I am not setting that count back to zero, thank you. Why would I even consider making such a thing?

On the other hand, I could make it as an Easter dress. Because that’s totally a thing I need. We haven’t even done a turkey at Easter in years. 

So yeah, I made an Easter dress. That just looks suspiciously like a wedding dress. Erm. 

Ok, it’s totally a wedding dress. Sue me. 

A short, cute, fluffy wedding dress. 

The pattern is Gertie’s new one, Butterick B6453. I was initially far more interested in the narrow-skirt version, which is much more my usual speed. A few of you long time readers may recall my long-ago Project Dropwaist posts, where I obsessed over my dislike (on my own particular body) of gathered skirts that hit at the waist. I very successfully adapted a number of those patterns, including Sewaholic’s Cambie, to a drop waist, and I’ve worn the snot out of all those dresses. 

I could have done that this time, as well, but I was doing this as a shop project and sometimes I don’t feel like spending the whole display month telling disappointed customers that actually this major design feature is quite different on the source pattern. Dropping the waist isn’t an easy hack like changing a neckline. In hindsight I suppose I could’ve used the top couple of inches of the fitted skirt version, but I’ve only just thought of that idea now. And hey, that’s a really great idea, now I totally want to try it!

Um. 

So basically this dress is way outside my comfort zone. Much too fancy for daily wear (seriously, those lovely beads snag on everything!) not to mention being unforgivably bridal. And in a style I’m not comfy with? WTF, Tanit. 

What can I say—sometimes we want to run with an idea. 😂

Anyway, let’s get a bit technical. I made minimal versions of my usual bodice alterations—shortening and swayback—and am quite satisfied. The nice thing about that pesky waist seam is that I could do the swayback alteration AFTER trying it on and determining that yes, my back waist/hips are actually up that high. 

While playing around with laying out the motifs, I decided to sew the rear darts only in the taffeta under layer, rather than mess around trying to incorporate them into the lace without destroying the motif. This seems to have worked just fine, thanks. 

Should’ve added underlining to the underlining.


I really wanted to use the scalloped edge of the lace along the upper front of the bodice. While keeping the curved neckline of the underlay free. But still having the lace sewn into all the other seams. This wound up working out beautifully, but I had some head-scratching moments on the way. Since I was using white, I fully lined the bodice rather than using the facings (and frankly I think I’ll generally do that) but I should’ve used a double layer of taffeta under the lace as my seam allowances still show through. You’d think I would know better by now…

Because I had decided to use this pearl and rhinestone trim (but I wasn’t making a wedding dress?!? WTF, Tanit), I had to widen the straps, which are super-narrow as they come with the pattern. I would like to try it again with the original straps. I did keep the adjustable feature, though. I know some people have poo-poo’d this as unnecessary on a custom dress but those people are obviously better seamstresses than I. I NEVER get the strap length right. And I hate going back and fixing it after. Speaking of Project Drop Waist, I’ve been wearing my Minnie Mouse dress  for YEARS with straps that are just slightly too long. 

On a side note, this pattern is a total fabric hog, BUT, if you have a double-edged border, as I did on the lace, or are willing to compromise the skirt fullness slightly (as I had to do with the taffeta underlayer, since apparently no one at my store remembered to order more of the white bridal taffeta) it becomes much more manageable. 

But the single best feature? 

POCKETS! Giant, iPhone-holding, glorious pockets! I want to make a copy of this pattern piece to use instead of all the other weenie pocket patterns I ever encounter. I spent almost as much time 

Ok, so after all that, I don’t hate the dress on me as much as I feared I might. Straight on isn’t a good view, but there are other angles that are better. My photos here are terrible, but will have to do until the dress is done display and the weather improves. (Note: its gorgeous here right now. By which I mean windy as hell but well above freezing. Like, double digits C yesterday, which is so amazing and glorious I can’t even describe it. And eastern Canada’s had a pounding this week so I am suffering weather guilt.)

So I don’t think I’ll be mainlining dirndl skirts quite yet, but I did enjoy this project, and I’m curious what I will think if I can manage to get some proper photos. Part of my shift in attitude is a shift in my own body, which is rather more hour-glassy here in the latter half of my 30s than it was in my formative years. But still short-waisted. That part actually gets worse as I put weight on my hips. Anyway, it was a fun exercise. And I am now accepting ideas for what to do with a completely superfluous wedding dress. 

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