Tag Archives: finished projects

May 19, 2014 · 8:52 pm

The Crop-Top Conundrum

Value Village Haul

So this morning we went for breakfast with some old friends, and afterwards the female half of said friends (who is also sewy, although she’s been at it hardcore far longer than I) and I abandoned both spouses and all children and made for the wilds of the East Side Value Village. It was a fun trip, and got a trunkful of excess stuff out of my house, and I came home with a small but pleasant haul: a few patterns, some really cute and surprisingly comfy shoes that are totally not my usual colour scheme (my mom will be jealous, though, or rather she won’t because it would take far more than one pair of shoes to compete with her fabulous Collection.) The fabric section was mostly disappointing, but there was one, tantalizingly tiny piece of gorgeous black and white striped spandex—barely half a metre, for a $0.99.

For a dollar, how can you lose?

We bounced around ideas for swimsuits and booty shorts, but, by the time I was home with my prizes, I knew what I was going to do. The scrap of spandex was going to become a Nettie crop-top.

So, can we talk about crop tops? It seems like they’re all over the place* this year. Certainly they were all over the costumes at the kids’ dance competitions. Oona’s been wearing them, so they must be stylish. Usually with a high-waisted skirt this time, which I gotta admit throws me a bit.

Now, crop tops are a style that’s easy to hate, not least because they’re so unforgiving to the vast majority of us (although with the high-waisted bottom they’re arguably more forgiving). And I won’t blame anyone who does—I feel kind of ambivalent about their revival, if in fact they are experiencing a revival.

Bathroom selfie crop top love

But back in the day, oh, damn, crop tops were ME. From the age of fourteen until I was pregnant with Tyo, I was an early adopter and a long-term fanatic. From May until October, it was highly unlikely on any given day that my tummy would be covered. (Yes, I wore them while pregnant, usually with the giant Mickey-Mouse overalls…) I was so pissed off when, shortly after Tyo was born (and I recovered about 95% of the pre-baby tummy, yes I got off easy), fashion moved on and it was pretty much obligatory for a top to come at least to your waist or a little below. Just a sliver of flesh around the hip, not that wide canvas of tummy I had been so fond of.

Yeah, I know, y’all are full of sympathy, aren’t you?

Front view, with mudgie.**

Which brings us to the next conundrum, the part about if you wore it the first time around, you’re too old the second time. You see, my mostly-flat-if-not-actually-washboard tummy, after surviving two pregnancies, finally deserted me about five or six years ago, part of a combination of a more sedentary lifestyle (we moved to the Big City and I could no longer walk everywhere, plus I had my driver’s licence) and the transition from mid twenties to late twenties to early thirties. While I still wear a two-piece bathing suit, and I don’t have an issue with dance costumes (bellydance tends to bare a lot of belly), it’s not something I’m really comfortable with in my everyday wardrobe anymore. And I gotta tell ya, I’m not at all convinced I will wear this one for everyday life anyway—but I have been needing some cute and inspiring things to wear to dance class, and this will definitely fit that bill.

But I also wonder. Maybe a crop-top doesn’t have to be about flaunting that perfect beach-body. Maybe it can be about loving the tummy that you have already, jiggly bits and all?*** And why are those jiggly bits just fine with a bit of fabric over, but unacceptable without?

So, as soon as I got home, I tried on my new shoes (Yep! Comfy!) and set to cutting out a Nettie crop top. Yes, this may be the fastest turnaround from fabric purchase to finished object ever. I used the same size eight Nettie I’ve been playing with all week, cutting it off at the bottom “lengthen or shorten here” line on both front and back. This is actually below the waist of the pattern, but without a bottom half pulling it down, I was pretty sure the height would be about right for what I wanted—and it is.

Back!

So, I’ve been futzing with a lot of wriggly, thin, and otherwise annoying knits lately, and I have to say, sitting down with a really nice spandex to play with is so awesome. It’s beefy but not overly thick, it’s smooth yet stable, and it handles gorgeously. I sewed the entire thing by regular machine (my old Pfaff, actually); I wanted lots of control when sewing those stripes, which I wouldn’t have on the serger.

Binding

I cut the neck binding lengthwise. Actually, I made sure I cut out the binding strips first, from the longest part of my scrap. I still had to piece the neckline band, too. And I may have to take a sharpie to the stitches where they show on the black stripes, though.

With high-waisted skirt. Not the right skirt, I know. I actually don’t hate this look as much as I thought I might, although this photo is probably as good as it gets.

I tried to match my seams as best I could without wasting more than an inch or two of fabric. I succeeded fairly well on the side-seams, not so much on the sleeves. Actually, we’ll call that a complete fail on the sleeves.

Stripe-matching

Not too bad for just pin-basting. Definitely need a sharpie. You can also just barely see the teeny zig-zag hem. I’m not sure how well that’ll hold up over time as the thread definitely has less give than the fabric there.

With jubbly tummy

So, out of my comfort zone? YES! Pushing things? YES! And yet, I feel totally cute, jubbly tummy bits and all.

Full view, with shoes

Also, I think I may have just fallen back in love with these jeans, which are my very first pair. I am loving how they look cuffed up with heels, even with the raggedy knees. Maybe especially with the raggedy knees.

So, I don’t know if I’ll be baring it all, or even a high-waisted sliver, this summer. My latent teenage self is screaming YES YES YES! while my more sedate thirty-something side is saying hmm, maybe leave that to the kids, Tanit. We’ll see who wins. And I have a new dance top in the meantime. So we’ll call that a win.

And, I just might have enough spandex left for some booty shorts…

*This link is not an endorsement, I have no particular familiarity with this site or its content, it was just the first hit that looked relevant on my google search, and it talked about the “current crop top trend.” Although, it’s talking about a trend from two years ago. Which might explain why it’s only now making it to my little backwater corner of the world, but anyway.

**mudgie is like pudge, but on a mommy, and is also, according to my husband, adorable.

***And, yes, I do know, in the grand scheme of things my jiggly bits are pretty minor. That doesn’t really change how I feel about them, though.

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Tagged as body image, Crop top, finished projects, Nettie

April 22, 2014 · 10:13 pm

A dress almost in time for Easter.

Almost an Easter dress

I made another dress. If we need an excuse, let’s call it an Easter dress, though it wasn’t done in time for Easter, nor was it dress weather.

Butterick 5317

The pattern is Butterick 5317, which is reminiscent in silhouette to the Danielle Dress of yore. Or at least reminiscent of my version of it, which had an extra pleat in the front. Or maybe they’re only reminiscent in my head… The skirt on this one is more full (more pleats). I must admit, although this style ticks a lot of my boxes—scoop neck! Empire waist! Just-above-knee-length!—the pleats had me a bit worried. That sudden release right at the waist seamed like it would be T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Which wasn’t enough to keep me from tackling this dress ind fairly-stiff cotton sheeting and sateen. Sensible, I am not always.

Side zip (very short… long story) and piping. Did I mention I love piping?

There is no back seam, so I presume the pattern expects you to insert a side zip. You may presume, from my presumption, that I did not actually read the instructions. Probably this would’ve been a good idea, as it probably covered how to insert both the satisfyingly giant pockets and a side zip in the same seam. I know this can be done, but I’ve never done it, and didn’t feel up to the challenge of figuring it out myself. Or the challenge of reading, apparently. So I just made my zip really short, ending above the pocket bag, which is approximately level with the waist. This works because a) my waist is pretty big, and b) my fabrics, even the 100% cotton print, had quite a lot of give.

Hem band. I was kinda surprised this wasn’t doubled. If I hadn’t decided to line the entire skirt, I would definitely double it.

I do love the hem band.

Can you see the pleats here?

I made my usual suite of alterations—shortening both the straps and between underbust and waist. The strap thing may have been unnecessary, as it’s quite high under the arm, and while the waist does sit in a good spot, the “waist” on this dress is defined much more by where you release the pleats than by the slight shaping at the side-seam. Although I do think that slight shaping is quite helpful. After an initial try-on, I lengthened the stitching on all the pleats by about 4 cm, and I like it much better where it is now. I think it contains the poof nicely. I should add before I forget that the straps sit a bit wide, and I don’t have narrow shoulders. VBS chic is a real probability.

I tried to get a shot that showed the pleats, but it was very hard. I guess that’s the goal?

I decided early on I wanted to line the skirt, not just the bodice. Not long after that, I realized that I would have to stitch the pleats in lining and top skirt as one, or languish in bulk forever. (Bulk at the waist is what we are trying to avoid here, peeps.) The way to do it, obviously, was to construct the cylinder of each skirt, sew them together at the hem, fold the lining to the inside, and then add the pleats. I did accomplish this, although there was definitely some head-scratching about the pockets and the zip.

Hem.

I wrangled with myself about doing a swayback alteration, since there is no back seam and no waist-seam; I did in the end shave some off top and bottom at the raised waist seam, and there is very little tendency to wrinkle in the back, so I’ll call it a win, and the under-bust seam is more “level” than it would’ve been without.

Back view, just like the front view.

Did I mention I went down a size? The pattern has a full 2″ of ease at the bust, which isn’t bad but is a touch more than I like for a fitted style. I think my down-sizing was successful in the fabrics I chose, stretch cotton sateen for the bodice and stretch poplin for the lining, but would’ve been uncomfortable in more stable fabrics. I did grade back up to a size 12 at the hips, although I suspect given the volume of the skirt in that area that it didn’t make a lick of difference.

The pockets are large and functional, although somewhat hampered by my decision to sandwich them between the two layers of the skirt.

But those really are some excellent pockets.

I am content.

I must admit, I’m kinda curious what the pattern would look like in a softer, flowing fabric; the example on the envelope is very similar to mine, crisp and rather blocky. Which isn’t necessarily bad, especially with those pleats, but I think it just might be really lovely in a soft satin or something else equally evil to sew with. For now, though, I’ll just be happy if we can get weather that actually allows me to wear it outside!

(Also, I feel like I should add, the dress is navy, not black. I was attempting to kick my black-and-white-with-occasional-red kick. Probably this is futile, especially when I keep choosing colours that read as black half the time…)

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Tagged as Butterick 5317, dress, finished projects

March 31, 2014 · 8:56 pm

Gertie Slip

Gertie’s Slip Pattern—Butterick 6031

So I wanted to make a slip. OK, frankly, I’ve needed a new one for a few months now. The beat-up old blue storebought one I have (which I’ve had longer than I’ve had my husband, having purchased it in the golden age of vintage shopping, aka the 90s) broke a strap not long after Christmas, and I’ve just been pinning it in place for lack of a better option. Because if one wants to wear a dress, in the winter, in Canada, a slip goes a surprisingly long way towards making a ridiculously-not-warm-enough outfit just borderline wearable. Especially when it facilitates the wearing of thermal tights. And I really, really, really wanted to make Gertie’s new slip pattern, because, well, ERMAGERDCUTE. Confession: I really really wanted to make it just exactly like the cover, in black with cream lace. Although I knew I needed a light-coloured slip, badly, too.

Well, Fabricland had absolutely no plain, black, slippery, stretchy knit fabric. They did have the old-fashioned nylon knit (the stuff your grandma’s slips were made of. Ok, the stuff my dying blue slip is made of), but I didn’t think that would work for this particular pattern (I think I was right, by the way.) So instead I walked out with some ERMAGERDCUTE nylon swimsuit fabric, and half a metric ton of black stretch lace. And some ivory old-fashiong lingerie knit, but that’s another story.

So, you may have noticed how Gertie’s selling kits for her slip? That’s SUCH A GOOD IDEA. Because figuring out everything you need from the bloody teeny text on the back of the envelope is not. easy. I read it fifteen times and still missed half of it. Like the 1/2″ lace for making the front half of the straps. It turned out all right because I found a really nice lingerie elastic I wanted to use for the whole straps, but still. I did remember the strap-sliders kit. I messed up on the lace pretty badly, but we’ll get to that.

Once I cut everything out, I decided to start with the briefs, since that seemed a little simpler (and easier to recut if I really screwed it up.) Which, by the way, I did. I wasn’t paying too much attention when I grabbed my lace—I knew it called for a couple of different widths, and just grabbed one wider and one narrower that I liked.

Tanit-Isis Fail.

The wider lace was about 2″ wide. The pattern called for 1.5″. That 1/2″ is a big deal, as you can see above. On the left—great. On the right, um, not quite such a good look. Yes, I sat and picked that out. A frickin’ teeny little zigzag in swimsuit fabric. Did I want to kill myself? Only a little. On the plus side, once I had it all fixed, they fit like a dream; I did lower the front rise about an inch (a personal preference, I think), but the rear coverage was just right.

(PS, any of you who remember my last attempt at lace-trimmed undies, remember how wide I found the crotch after? You will not have that problem with this pattern. Teeniest little skinny crotch ever. Very comfy, although I wouldn’t recommend wearing pads with these. Also, the crotch-liner piece ends up pretty funny looking. Yeah, I also forgot to buy any cotton jersey for that. Fortunately I’m a fabric ~~hoarder~~ stasher and have enough white cotton knit bits kicking around for a small army of undies.)

I like Gertie’s option for using lace for the front of the straps (though I wouldn’t use a stretch lace, and I’m not sure this is specified, and the rest of the lace in the pattern has to be stretch), but I have been lusting after this lingerie elastic since it came in to my local Fabricland last fall sometime. You can just about see, in the photo above, the cool shiny/not shiny designs on it. I like. And clear plastic sliders and rings, because that’s really all Fabricland has. Silver would’ve been perfect.

Figuring out how to thread a slider for an adjustable strap always takes me a few tries and a lot of looking at an existing bra for reference. I started by sewing the rings on the back (opposite of how Gertie’s instructions have you do them, solely because I didn’t have the ornamental separate front portion of my strap.) But, I managed to get them on and the fancy side facing out. Also, starting at the back makes it much easier to get the strap length right when fitting on yourself. Although that’s not nearly as important for adjustable straps like these, anyway. I sewed my straps in two places, at the top of the lace and where the lace joins the main fabric.

I did the vast majority of the construction (everything but the side-seams) on my regular sewing machine using a zig-zag. The only thing I don’t like is the black zig on the white fabric on the inside—kinda highlights every little inconsistency in stretching, stitch-speed, and trimming. I considered using a white bobbin thread, but that might have shown on the outside unless I fiddled with the tension, in which case the black would still have shown on the inside. So I am sucking up the black. I won’t give a flying anything once I’m wearing it.

Fortunately, the way the pattern is designed lets you swap in pretty much whatever width of lace you like, because you apply the lace then trim away the fabric behind. I had to get more of my “narrow” lace (because that was working much better for most of the pattern), but I was still able to use the wider lace in a couple of places—under the bust and along the hem. I will note—there are a lot of different seam allowances in this pattern—none, 1/4″, 5/8,” and I think maybe a 3/8″ as well. I forgot to double-check and sewed my front cup pieces together with a 1/4″ seam allowance that should’ve been 5/8″. So my top front was too wide for my bottom front. Not figuring out what was going on until after, I just eased this in and went with it (which is easy with such a stretchy fabric), but it means my straps and darts fall just a little wider than they should. Not a big deal for me, but if you had narrow or sloping shoulders I bet it would not be great.

Lace finishing

I had a lot of fun piecing the lace for this. It’s very basic. Overlap the lace in the shape you want. Zig-zag it down. Trim off the bits you don’t want on either side. (Optional: follow the pattern of the lace so your zig-zag almost disappears).

I didn’t do much to tweak the pattern, other than my reckless use of inappropriate lace. I made a slight shortening adjustment to the length between underbust and waist. I didn’t even attempt a swayback alteration on the back (it would essentially have ended up being a wedge taken off the top of the back piece anyway). I did grade out to a size 14 for the back skirt, because I often find the side-seams trend to the back for me (this is another side-effect of swayback, more than the actual size of my butt), and this did help a lot with the problem. To the extent that it is a problem, anyway.

Slip: back view, with lace. If you wanted to continue the lace panel on the back, you could just mark where the front lace would match up with it, sew the lace on top, and trim away the slip fabric behind it.

I really did want to add lace across the upper back, however. As drafted the pattern is kinda coffin-clothes, with all the lace (except at the hem) on the front. I just removed the seam-allowance from the top of the back piece, placed and zig-zagged down the lace, and removed the fabric from behind. Now, stretch-lace does not make the sturdiest of finishes, as we’ve discussed before, which I’m sure is why Gertie didn’t put it all across the back. For a modicum of extra elasticity, I added some clear elastic right at the join of the lace to the back piece. I also chose to live dangerously and skip the really-skinny elastic supporting the edge of the stretch lace in the front. Probably not a good idea for the longevity of my slip, but I can always add it in later, when I learn the error of my ways. So I tell myself.

So, can I just say, I love this pattern just as much as I thought I would have? In particular, it’s drafted with the perfect amount of negative ease! (For my fabric, anyway.) As I said, I made my usual size 12, and I put it on, fully expecting to have to take in the side-seams (as one normally does with Big 4 knit patterns). NOPE! PERFECT! Snug through bust, easy skimming through the hips. YAAAAY!

It looks better on me

And if I do say so myself, it looks considerably cuter on me than on my dress-form. The only problem is, it may be too cute to put clothes over top of. In which case I suppose I’ve made myself a new nightie, not a slip. I guess I might just have to make another…

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Tagged as Butterick 6031, finished projects, Gertie's Slip, lace, slip, Underwear

March 24, 2014 · 9:06 pm

That 70s Dress: Cream & Red edition

Because I am creative with titles.

This isn’t the dress I wanted to make. That is, I figured I would make this other dress: (yes, just exactly like the envelope) but I couldn’t find the pattern. It’s around somewhere. >_<

So, fall back. Simplicity 7806 from 1976. Equally cute, and almost as high on the (admittedly rather dusty) “must make” list. The fabric is deep stash, an ivory-coloured stretch suiting bought from a thrift store in my first year of blogging. (I just totally missed my fourth blogiversary last week, by the way.)

I think it looks kinda Regency. Which is pretty fun, actually. The pattern is a size 10, a size smaller than I usually make. Since my fabric has a fair bit of stretch (although I didn’t notice until after I had cut it out that there was a lot more stretch lengthwise than widthwise… headdesk), I figured it would be workable. I made my usual bodice-petiting and swayback alterations, and added some extra width on the side-seams of the skirt. I love these 70s A-line skirts, but they need to skim, not cling, and last time I made a size 10 there was, ah, clinging.

Anyway, I got the waist in the right place, but arguably it might’ve been better had I taken less height out of the yoke (which is a single piece that wraps from front to back—now that I’ve made it it’s pretty simple but I was having a hard time visualizing how to alter it beforehand) and more height between bust and waist. Although I think I like where the underbust seam sits, even if it technically is a bit high. It’s hard to say with that curved seam, though—it feels perfect in the middle, high at the sides. But if it were perfect at the sides, it would probably seem too low in the middle? It’s a funny shape, anyway.

I paid a bit more attention to fitting the back than I sometimes do; I wound up taking in the back waist by over an inch on each side of the zipper. It clings fairly well, now, and then skims, although the bottoms of those darts could probably use a bit of fussing over. Hard to say—this fabric is heavy on the polyester, and while it presses fairly well, it does love to pucker.

I got lazy gave the blind hem stitch on the Rocketeer a try. As with everything on this damn machine, you have to look up the settings—intuitive it is not—but once I figured out the recommended setup it was pretty easy. Although not particularly invisible in this fabric. Except in the places I completely missed the hem. /sigh Wel, it was fast. I love how the manual assures us that the blind stitch is “comparable to hand-finishing.” The hand hem is the gold standard. As it should be. 😉

In this photo you can see (maybe) the main fit issue with this dress—pulling across the shoulder. When I saw this my first thought was “I overdid the petiting,” which is certainly possible, but I think actually this is a problem of either a) my size 12 shoulders in a size 10 shoulder-piece, or b) that I didn’t bother with a square shoulder adjustment. I generally try to avoid them in these sort of cap-sleeve styles, especially since I couldn’t really visualize how to do one, but now that I have it finished I think cutting a slash along the shoulder line of the yoke (once I determined where the shoulder line should be) and then adding in a wedge at the outer edge, narrowing to nothing at the neck, would’ve been just what the doctor ordered.

Overall, I’d say this was the perfect fabric for this dress—drapey, with lots of polyester ;). The spandex may not be period, but the pattern does suggest lightweight knits as an option. I used the piping to finish the upper central neckline and back; below you can see my overlocked edges, and the hand-finished interior of the yoke. Overlocking anywhere near the red piping may turn out to have been a really bad idea, as that stuff frays like (words I won’t say on blog). Fray Check was my friend. I didn’t notice the problem so much on the Butterflied dress, where I used the same piping, but then that was more short, straight seams and it all ended up lined anyway. I don’t think I did much grading of seams, which I had to do lots of here.

The biggest problem I have is that, being white (ok, ivory), my fabric isn’t, um, quite as opaque as another colour in the same weight would be. I think a white or nude slip is going to be in order before this one leaves the house. Which is too bad, because it really deserves better than headless bathroom selfies. And I will be really pissed with myself if I’ve made another dress I can’t wear, just for lack of proper undergarments.

Of course, now I need more cream stretch suiting, for when that original pattern turns up…

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Tagged as 70s, dress, finished projects, Simplicity 7806

March 15, 2014 · 10:49 pm

Draping for Spring

I had a few scant hours this morning to spend sewing. In search of something quick, but more exciting than yet another pair of leggings, I pulled out Drape Drape (vol. 2).

I have been wanting to make top # 4 since I got the book, a year and a half or more ago. I actually attempted it last winter, but made the mistake of using a border-print knit with almost no stretch at all, and didn’t modify the neckline, despite reading warnings of its depth. The result was too low for decency (and I am not shy of cleavage) and way too tight in the hips. It gets worn to bed once in a while, but otherwise was basically a waste of a really cool fabric. Bah.

Anyway, take two is in a much more suitable lightweight knit, which claimed to be a cotton but I think has a fair whack of rayon, or maybe just a nice polyester.

Either way, it’s soft, drapey, and just right for this pattern. I re-traced (man is that a big pattern-piece!) and tried again, raising the neckline by two inches and widening the scoop of it a bit more. I also added a tiny bit of width to the hip, straightened the hem (since I figured this would look better than the curve with the stripes) and straightened the hem of the left sleeve, again to look better with the stripes.

I tried to take my time with the construction, reinforcing the shoulder seams with strips of fusible knit interfacing and taking time to press my neck band and twin-needle my hems (after reinforcing them with steam-a-seam).

I am not a big fan of the double needle for knit finishes, despite it’s superficial RTW look. It tends to tunnel, often doesn’t stretch enough, and, most importantly, I tend to kill the needles quickly. This one bit it right as I was finishing the neckline. I had to do two lines of straight stitch across the back of the neck. BLERG.

I wasn’t sure, given the odd shape of the pattern, that matching the stripes across the seams would be possible, so I didn’t try too hard. This is kinda too bad, because it turns out they actually could mostly have matched up really well, if I had tried a little harder. They’re not terrible, but definitely not awesome.

So, summary? Quick, a little crazy, comfy, and most importantly, done!

Now if only that spring weather would come along to go with it!

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Tagged as Drape Drape, finished projects, knits

March 9, 2014 · 9:40 pm

Butterflied

Side view. Spot the tummy poof!

I shouldn’t really have made this dress. In a world where my sewing time is numbered in hours per month, where every precious drop of needle-time needs to count, this was not really the right choice. It’s impractical, non-seasonal, and doesn’t even have charming geeky pop-culture references. Sigh.* When I sewed this last weekend, we were suffering through wind-chills into the -40s. It’ll be weeks, more likely months, before this dress sees action. And I could have been sewing zebra print fleece! But, the choice was made, so let’s try to blog it, shall we?

So, I made Vogue 8916. Why? Well, I think I mostly felt challenged by the sheer butt-ugliness of the envelope photos, frankly. The model looks about as thrilled with the shapeless potato-sac outfits masquerading as Chanel chic as I would be, frankly. And yet, there’s this possibly-really-cute-dress-with-neat-seaming in there at the same time. So I made it. In this really neat abstract-butterfly-wings print whose cuteness almost makes up for its %100 polyester composition and the part where the (slightly glittery) black print melts when you iron it (all over my new-last-summer iron with the spanky extra-slidy sole, I’ll add. The press-cloth was my friend).

I’m almost as over apologizing for bad photos as I am over winter, so, they are what they are, which is grainy and not-very-in-focus. My “good” camera did not do a whole lot better than the iPhone (we tried both)—the culprit is simply inadequate lighting. Which, given my husband’s abhorrence of light in most forms, isn’t likely to change until I can go outside to take photos. In, y’know, a month or three. And I do better with a tripod than a photographer, just because I find it easier to let loose and be goofy. Although Tyo, my photographer, thought I was being plenty goofy enough.

Bodice details

Anyway, so the dress. I like the idea. I like the silhouette. I like the details. I did a decent job on the execution. But there’s a couple of things in the fit that I think are going to, well, irk me.

Front view, with tummy pooch

I haven’t made many straight skirts. Ok, I made one, a long time ago, when I was a baby stitcher, and I’ve only worn it about three times. More because I tend to destroy the back-slit every time I’ve tried to wear it than anything else, but the fact remains. I do have a couple of storebought (hand-me-down) pencil skirts of some kind of stretch fabric that are cute and I wear them a bit now that I have this staid little office job (though they still annoy me when going up and down stairs.) Anyway, the skirt features the very typical-of-straight-skirts front darts.

So I can kinda, if I squint right, see how these darts are right for most people. I mean, I’ve got some tummy pooch, especially the last couple of years (hello, mid-thirties!). But, for the most part, my stomach goes out in a smooth curve, sticking out furthest at my bellybutton, unless I’m carefully sucking things in for, oh, blog photos and whatnot. Anyway, it’s not so much the fit at the tummy that bugs me, as right below. My hips go back, and the skirt does not. Those storebought skirts just kinda suck in in this area—this non-stretch one doesn’t. If I’m standing straight, it’s not bad, but from certain angles it just looks poochy. Which I guess is cute. Also, while the curve of the hip isn’t as off as I was afraid it might be (my hips don’t curve out quite the “normal” amount, or so the vast majority of pencil skirts I’ve ever tried on have informed me) it’s not in quite the right place. It hits much higher than my widest part, like a good three inches higher. So yeah, I guess I’m short in the waist and long in the hips. I guess if I made more high-waisted stuff I would know this by now. This excess width at the high-hip also contributes to the pooch, I think. And then it’s quite snug over the widest part of my hips, which falls in the part where the pegged skirt is starting to taper in toward the hem. /sigh. So note to self—in future, add whatever length you take off above the waist on below the waist. Or maybe some more—I only shortened the bodice by about 1 cm (and yet, it does hit at my waist, at least when I stand straight.), and I think the “widest part of hip” needs to come down at least a couple of inches.

Back view, with blur.

All the back photos came out blurry. Which is too bad, because I really like the back view. My swayback adjustment worked quite nicely, here. I may not need it in things with flared skirts, but I definitely do in something like this.

Piping intersection

I spent a lot of time agonizing over how and where I was going to do the piping. I knew I wanted to highlight the interesting front seams, but just how? In the end, I went for minimal—just the front princess seams, and that under-bust cross-seam. Part of me wishes I’d done the waist, but I don’t like highlighting my natural waist, so I am content with how I did it. I’m a little disappointed that the under-bust seam is only in the front of the bodice, though—if I’d had more time/ambition I would’ve added it to the back and piped all the way around. In the past I’ve usually made my own piping, but this time I tried out this squishy-braided-flexible stuff from the store. I think the shininess works well with the fabric, more than, say, a broadcloth piping would’ve, and it was certainly less fussy than homemade satin bias piping. Anyway, it worked nicely, and I like the look and texture with this fabric. Incidentally, look at my piping intersection there! That was probably the most nerve-wracking moment of sewing the whole thing, so I definitely did a happy dance to the sewing gods when I got it just right. Also, this is the only photo where you can see the more subtle jaquard swirls in the fabric, as well as the black butterfly-wing bits. Cool fabric, no?

Hem, with grosgrain ribbon finish. You can see the underlining above the hem.

Other construction details? I underlined my fashion fabric, which was fairly floppy, with broadcloth. I also used broadcloth for lining, so this is really a fairly substantial-feeling dress. Unfortunately, the broadcloth lining doesn’t work with tights (especially lacy tights) so the photographed combination won’t work in real life. *pout* (I may pull off the skirt lining and replace it with a proper, slippery lining. I think the skirt-fit-issues would bug me less if the dress skimmed more anyway.) I finished the hem with some saddle-stitched grosgrain ribbon (off a spool from the dollar store—man, those don’t have much on them!) I love how easy underlining makes invisible hemming. I’m now officially terrified to wash this dress, though—red piping and red dollar-store ribbon on a white dress? I’d say disaster waiting to happen, wouldn’t you?

Really blurry pic of the bust padding

I added bust padding a la Tasia’s tutorial, much as I did with the picnic dress. Unfortunately, my only pic came out really blurry, but they do the job, which is basically just to add a bit of smoothness and structure to the bustical area if I don’t wear a bra. My bras are all padded in varying amounts, so my “size” without them is, um, a bit smaller. I made a size 12 for this, and it’s a bit roomy in the top, so maybe I really should be making a 10 in the bust for Vogues. I should also have done more stay-stitching or something around the top of the bodice, as it gapes a bit (and that’s after taking a bit off from the top of the princess seams.)

So, overall, I don’t really know about this dress. From some angles it’s great, from others the little things bug me to all hell. I probably do need to bite the bullet and play with the skirt side-seams, and replace the broadcloth skirt lining with a slippery one. In, y’know, a couple of months. On the other hand, I can see myself wearing it to work with a shrug or something to dress it down a bit (and to keep me from freezing!). I don’t have any glam-requiring events in the foreseeable future, so dressing it down will be a necessity. I suspect it’ll all come down to how it feels to wear it—and I won’t know until I try.

In a few months.

Instagram makes everything better.

*I know there are plenty of people who love to sew nothing but the fun and frivolous, preferring to buy (or just ignore) the mundane and everyday. And I get it. But personally, I find it frustrating and disappointing when I can’t wear something I make. Like, right away. Preferably to death.

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Tagged as dress, finished projects, Vogue 8916

February 17, 2014 · 10:06 pm

Camo & Lace

The Coat. Yes, I added lacing at the back.

I’m kinda torn. I almost don’t want to post about this at all, and wait until spring when I can get better photos. But I’m also afraid if I do that it just won’t happen. And I’m impatient. And I really, really like this jacket.

Coat.

Thingy.

Inspiration: Ralph Lauren Duster. Don’t see the resemblance?

So, way back in the day, Lady Katza of Peanut Butter Macrame posted about this (already-not-news) “duster” coat-dress-thingy. It’s apparently Ralph Lauren. I don’t know. All I know is I agreed with her about its general fabulosity. Anyway, memory morphs, as it does, so what I remembered was a long, swingy denim coat trimmed in lace. And somehow when this drab camo twill showed up at my local Fabricland (which has been a pathetic, camo-less wasteland for over a year, I will point out), well, it seemed like the perfect riff on this idea. Especially matched with McCall’s 6800, which I have had a crush on since it came out.

McCall’s 6800

In fact, it’s pretty much everything you could want in a swishy coat pattern. Princess seams (two sets). Two-piece sleeve. Lapelled or standing collar options. Detachable hood. Detachable fur collar, if that’s your style. It even had the high-low hem option ready-made! And I will make a real wintery-coat-version someday, but it was a great starting-place for the image in my head.

Front view. Ok, I’m a little surprised at how short it ended up. The pattern photos made me think it would go from just above the knee in the front to mid-calf in the back.

Curiously, the really ugly greige-colour of cluney lace at Fabricland looked perfect with this fabric. Unfortunately, they don’t have much selection in that colour, and and this was the only one that was the right kind of edge and scale. And all they had was four metres. Which seemed like plenty at the time, but as it turned out, was just enough to go around the hem once. My dreams of lace frothing at throat and cuffs were dashed. Maybe I’ll add it in later.

back lacing

After checking the finished measurements, I figured I’d be safe to go down a size, with the possible exception of the waist—so I made part of my usual petite alteration right at the waist, figuring that would shave off the narrowest part. Then, I figured I’d add lacing in the back, for some extra fit insurance. Because who doesn’t love lacing? And it turns out I’m glad it’s there, so I probably didn’t need to worry about the waist being too narrow. I’m glad I made my usual petite alterations, though I could’ve skipped the swayback. I think I don’t need it in full-skirted things like this, hard as that is to wrap my head around. I added 4cm length to the sleeves, divided between upper and lower (and there was a lengthen-shorten line in each! This was enough added length, but definitely not excessive. 5 cm (2″) would probably be perfect, especially in a bulkier fabric. I did find the sleeves quite full when I first tried it on. Of course, I had already topstitched the outseam, but I was able to take it in fairly satisfactorily at the under seam. By 1/2″, so a total of a full inch per sleeve. Of course, if I were making a winter-coat version, I would probably want that fullness. While I’m talking about the sleeves, I shaved down the sleeve-heads by about 1/4″ and could probably have taken off more, considering cotton doesn’t ease well. In wool, I think the amount of ease would work. The shoulders are nice and narrow, maybe because I went with the size 10. They’re perfect for this, but I wonder if they wouldn’t be a little narrow for a winter-coat version with shoulder pads (yes, you do need shoulder pads for a tailored coat. Not thick ones, but *something*)

Innards

I showed you my bound seams before, but here you can see (however blurrily) the pockets. I made a little support running between the pocket bag and the facing, so it doesn’t flap around. Speaking of the facing, that’s one of the two (maybe three?) things I didn’t like about this pattern. There is no separate piece for the facing—they just tell you to cut four of the CF pieces. Well, I did that in my Winter Coat and I can’t help but suspect that it was a contributor to the mysterious front-flaring-out that almost killed the coat at the final stages—only major hand-stitching (basically padstitching the two layers together) saved it. Anyway, when I went to cut my second pair, I skipped the flare. For this topstitched design, I wasn’t concerned about turn-of-cloth allowance on the lapels, but if/when I make a proper version, I’ll be over at the RTW Tailoring Sewalong posts, where Sherry went over all the necessary changes for drafting a lining and facing properly. Such a good sewalong.

Buttons and buttonholes. If you look close, you can see where I ran out of topstitching thread SIX INCHES FROM BEING DONE!

Of course I had to use jeans buttons. Of course, I couldn’t find ANY of my handy-dandy little thingies that hold the two bits in place while you hammer, nor could I find my awl. Let me just say, those two gadgets make life a lot easier. I made the buttonholes with a vintage Singer buttonholer.

Buttonholer. First use.

I should perhaps mention it was the first time using this particular buttonholer; in the past I’ve used my Greist one. I did not notice a measurable difference between the two (and they both use the same templates, which means my little extra kit that has the short keyhole template works in either). I did NOT try to use the topstitching thread for the buttonholes—I have come to the conclusion that this is just asking for trouble. They look just fine in regular, matching thread.

measury-gadget

I used 8 buttons, which felt like quite a lot, but I like the closely-spaced look. Also, less gaping if when I lace things up really tight. And my nifty-measury-gadget only does 8 holes. Probably that’s enough for most things.

Neck yoke, with hanging loops. Also, I love binding.

There was no rear neck facing piece (another boo—basically there were no proper lining pieces, though there was a proper undercollar). So, I made my own. I’d go into my process, but a) Sherry covers it really well, and b) I totally didn’t follow her advice and just kinda laid some tracing paper over the half-finished jacket and traced out the shape. I am glad I remembered a hanging-loop, even if I didn’t think to add it until after.

Chillin

So, I’m pretty happy with the outcome. And even Osiris approves, which is pretty rare, although he wondered why I didn’t use more lace. Sadly, the weather being what it is, this jacket won’t get much wear for a couple of months. What can I say? I was, ah, inspired. Which is a great feeling to follow, isn’t it?

Now I had better go be a good girl and make a onesie for Syo next…

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Tagged as finished projects, jacket, McCall's 6800

September 29, 2013 · 7:23 pm

Little leggings, legion

A small selection

Last weekend, as often happens, we went to my Stylish sister-in-law’s. Certain television premieres may have been airing that, since we gave up cable, wouldn’t be watchable chez Isis. But before the stories were watched, we sewed. I’ve had a leggings itch ever since working on the Espresso leggings for Cake Patterns, especially with the weather turning. And this purple polkadot Michael Miller knit was kinda burning a hole in the stash ever since I caved and bought it last month.

Laying out little leggings

The purple was never meant for me; I handily got three little leggings out of it, for Syo, Fyon, and Waif, and there’s enough left for two more leggings or any number of pairs of underwear, depending. Stylish worked on tracing her pattern for Coat Club, but she is easily distracted by frivolities like cleaning her house and making supper, so she didn’t get much done. I, on the other hand, made five pairs of leggings, mainly by dint of ignoring everyone else.

Trying on.

I spent, by far, the most time laying out and matching up zig-zags. The purple knit isn’t as substantial as I’d originally thought and I’m really not sure how well it’ll wear—although it is CUTE. The zig-zags actually ran lengthwise on this fabric, which didn’t seem right, so I cut them on the cross-grain, which means the maximum stretch isn’t quite right. As a result the leggings are a bit snug, even on the Waif, who isn’t at all used to anything being tight.

I think the cuteness has made up for it, though—I made the leggings on Sunday, it’s now the following Sunday, and I’m not actually sure they’ve been taken off.*

Sexy lingerie…

This is not. I assume adding a corset will make it better, but I am currently unconvinced. No wonder Victorians were so sexually unenthused (although they did invent the vibrator…)

So, here, only a few weeks late, are some final finished photos of my drawers. I had been holding off, hoping to get comparison shots with an actual pair in my mother’s collection, but I had a few free moments this morning while Osiris was still in bed (and so not around to laugh at me) so I figured I’d better seize them and get some photos. However, my cameria is AWOL (actually, probably somewhere in the bedroom with Osiris, and if I bang around in there I’ll wake him up and lose my opportunity), so you still get iPhone photos. Sorry. 😦

Front View

The drawers fit, for a given level of “fit”. The length is about right, or maybe it’s a bit too long. Apparently they should be just below the knee—anything longer is slovenly. And the saggy-baggy-puffy-crotch thing seems to be part of the charm. Or, y’know, something.

Speaking of which, my main source of instruction have been threefold: “The Home Course in Dressmaking and Ladies Tailoring” (copyright 1908), which I actually have in paper copy, whence came the actual draft for these drawers, an ebook, “The Home Needle,” from 1882, by Ella Rodman Church, and the pair of antique drawers in my mom’s collection (hereafter referred to as “the extant pair.”). I love the 1882 book because a) it’s just about my time period (mid 1880s), b), it’s mercifully brief, and c) it’s delightfully opinionated. Mrs. Church starts right in by excoriating the sewing-machine (by the time of my 1908 book, the sewing machine was much more accepted and there is much less emphasis on hand sewing of things like basic seams.), and the state of sewing generally, and she’s full of important tips like the one above about the appropriate length of drawers. Whenever I find myself lacking, seamstresslywise, I remind myself that I keep company with all the half-ass, slipshod Victorian girls just plugging away making shoddy, poorly sewn items purely to annoy mavens of excellence like Mrs. Church. And if she finds my drawers slovenly… well, she’ll never have to see them. 😉

Side view. Note puffy butt and tapering waist-band.

Although I based the draft for my drawers on the later Home Course, I did take a couple of details for them from Mrs. Church.

Drawers draft from The Home Needle (1882)

Mrs. Church’s drawers draft has a curved front crotch, and no rear crotch curve at all. This is actually the same as the drawers in Simplicity 9769. I assume this creates an extra-puffy bum, which would be desirable in the bustle era. (I wonder if the front curve has to do with the pattern being designed to have the crotch closed in the front.)

Drawers draft from Home Course In Dressmaking (1908)

The 1908 draft I used, by contrast, has no curve at either front or back, but both lines angle back in pants-fashion, rather than one angling and one not. And I departed from both drafts on one thing—when I compared my pattern with my mother’s extant pair (which, of course, I don’t know the precise dating of), I found the leg of the extant pair to be WAY, WAY narrower than my draft. So I narrowed that. Actualy, a lot of the details I wound up picking—the tucks, the lace, the ruffle, even the band finishing the crotch edges—kind of go back to that original pair.

Rear view. The “chemise” is a slip left over from a 90s sheer-floral-rayon dress (you remember the ones). It actually kinda works, although the neckline is all wrong.

Although I initially drafted a curved waist-band pattern based on on the 1908 book, by the time I got around to this part of the sewing I had misplaced it and figured I would go with Mrs. Church’s instructions, which are more my proper period, anyway. She says that although most people make a straight waistband, about an inch folded over, it’s better to make one wider at the back, that tapers to the front, and closes with two buttons rather than one. So I did. It would probably sit better at my actual waist, but despite all the fussing and futzing it turned out a bit large. I could, of course, move my buttons over, but I’m thinking the less bulk at my waist the better, once all the layers start coming together.

Phew. OK, let’s stick with hanger shots.

I added a few more small tucks around my rather-ugly lace. I’m more or less okay with it now, although of course I’ve since found several laces in stash that would’ve been better. I did not remove the fabric behind the lace—there’s top-stitched lace exactly like this on the extant pair of drawers. I suppose see-through panels on your drawers might not be quite the thing, or maybe that seamstress was just a bit lazy. Either way, I have precedent.

I added a few more small tucks around the wider lace. I like it better now.

I finished my inseam with a French seam, as per the 1908 instructions, contra Mrs. Church and the extant pair, both of which use a felled seam here. I can see why—the fell would be flatter and less likely to, ah, chafe delicate parts, since the low crotch sits pretty much right between your thighs. Since I don’t plan to be wearing these for days on end, well, I’ll live.

Inseam, finished with a French seam.

I also finished the crotch with a straight band, as per the 1908 book and the extant pair, contra Mrs. Church, who advises some kind of a shaped facing, wider at the crotch point and narrowing toward the waistband—I couldn’t really make heads or tails of what she was describing, frankly. Which is the downside of the Victorian sewing books, but anyway.

Two medium buttons

A few weeks ago my mother handed me two baggies of mixed buttons she had picked up at a garage sale. Ah, the joy. Anyway, I went through these looking for the perfect buttons, and found quite a few plain, smooth white glass buttons that seem just perfect. Medium size buttons, not small, in accordance with Mrs. Church’s instructions.

Unbuttoned to show my terrible-ass buttonhole.

I remain impressively terrible at making hand-worked buttonholes (especially when I compare myself to actual examples). For something different this time I used a darning yarn that was in the sewing stuff I recently got with my Grandmother’s machine. I used it doubled and single would’ve been better, and it turns out after the fact that I was using a blanket stitch rather than a buttonhole stitch (they’re much the same except for the directly of the needle), which explains why my knots never end up in the right place. However, they are sturdy. Mrs. Church is rolling over in her grave as we speak.

Now you can REALLY see the difference between the front and back waistband width.

These were pretty fun to make, although I must say finishing something and not being able (or even inclined) to immediately wear it out and about is pretty frustrating (and why I have resisted the siren-song of historical costuming in general, the last few years). Next in line: chemise, corset, petticoats, bustle. Not necessarily in that order. At my current rate that should only take, oh, another two years?

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Tagged as drawers, finished projects, historical costuming, Historical Sewing, Victorian

September 4, 2013 · 10:04 pm

Jeans at last.

Jeans!

I’ve needed new jeans for a while. Like, a really long while. The last pair was these skinnies, a year and a half ago. Which, I’ll add, wound up twisting annoyingly in the one leg, so I don’t wear them much. I think I definitely need to embrace the single-layer cutting for jeans. /sigh.

Jeans

There’s not much to say about these. It’s the same pattern as ever, the same techniques, even the same frickin’ pockets. I’ll repeat the detail shots from the last post just for the sake of completeness. I did spend some time tweaking my contour waistband pattern, which began life as the waistband from the Burdastyle Ellen pants (which are no longer free, WTF?) but has since gone through several iterations. This version is wide, curved in the back and straight(er) in the front, and doesn’t gape over my butt even a little bit. More importantly, it didn’t gape over Stylish’s butt, which I am really frickin’ proud of, but I guess that’s another post (assuming I can pin her down for blog photos. These non-bloggers, /sigh.)

Front details

I used this polkadot (?)chambray for the pocket lining and inside waistband. It’s nice, but a bit lighter than I’d like for this purpose, I think, even interfaced. The waistband is fairly wide, and it ended up being a bit floppy, even with my adding a CB seam so the front could be on the grain. Also, I should’ve added two buttons for the width, not just the one. Hopefully we’ll get around to the rivets sooner rather than later.

Back details

I did not put a whole lot of work or thought into the pocket design. Just something simple I could copy fairly easily. I was busy overseeing Stylish’s pair.

Back view

Oh, yeah, and I’ve recently discovered the one up-side of having a child large enough to steal your clothes. You can steal hers back.

Side view

And, while I normally wouldn’t show this much tummy these days (never mind on the internet), Osiris’s reaction to this ensemble was, shall we say, sufficiently positive that I’m gonna put it out there anyway.

Ma butt

Hmph. Done.

Of course, just as I finished these, summer’s last gasp really set in and we’ve had nothing but hot, sunny days completely unsuited to jeans. Ah, well. Winter’s just around the corner and I’ll have plenty of chance to wear them soon enough…

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Tagged as finished projects, Jalie, Jalie 2908, jeans