Tag Archives: in progress

The Last Gasp of Summer Dress (Part 1)

Lonsdale at last!

Last night, in a fit of madness, I finally cut out the bodice for the Lonsdale dress*. Boo-ya!

So, what’s up with this? Well, I had traced out the bodice pieces in a straight  Sewaholic size 6 back in July (Yes, I’m a tracer. Especially when it comes to almost $20 patterns). Tasia’s size 6 matches my bust measurement, and the waist is only an inch off, which puts it closer to my measurements than any other commercial pattern I’ve run across. Yay! The hip measurements are way, way of—the Sewaholic line caters to the more pear-shaped among us, which I am emphatically not—but that shouldn’t matter for a dress like this. Which is probably why she came out with a dress like this ;).

Anyway, on examining the pieces, I decided to shorten the waist by a LOT. I have a short waist to begin with, and the Pendrell blouse (presumably based on the same measurements) was reported to run long in the waist. Also, there’s the waist-band piece, which will sit below the bodice. Trial and error has taught me that if I must have a waistband on a dress, I’d rather have it start at my waist and extend above. Visual attempts to lengthen my waist don’t seem to help—I get better results with a slightly raised waist. Or I think I do, anyway (think this dress). I took out about 5cm (2″), I’d say. So it will probably end up a bit higher than Tasia intended, but hopefully at a place that looks good on me ;). Remember there’s a 5cm-wide band below the bodice, then the skirt starts.

Closeups

In the photo I had folded up the bottom edge to to approximately where the seam will be. Since you can’t really see my waist well in these pics, I’ll throw in a slightly more inclusive shot:

Distance shot

Unfortunately taking photos at night in my bedroom with the flash and my backup camera doesn’t make for the best photos ever, but you should get the idea.

I should really make a swayback adjustment, though. Note to self.

Pretty instructions!

I have to say, I love Tasia’s instructions! Look at all those gorgeous little diagrams—barely a word, because barely a word is needed. Kinda like Ikea instructions. 🙂

Now to find time to actually work on it…

*Bonus points to the person who sees my big booboo in this photo.

25 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Oof-Da

Vacation

So, now we’re home, it should be back to life as usual, right?

Erm. Not quite yet.

You see, memory is a finicky thing. Much as we swear that we’ll never forget the little things, they still get fuzzy as the years go by. I no longer remember which of my children was born at 4:00 am vs. 6:00 am.  I don’t remember whether Syo walked at nine months or ten (either way, it was far too early…)

And I didn’t remember quite what it was like to have pre-schoolers in the house. So when my stylish sister-in-law asked if we could watch her girls (yes, the ones I occasionally sew for, currently aged 4.5 and 3) for a couple of days while she and her hubby take their first-ever post-child vacation, I blithely said yes. She took my kids all freakin’ July, people. It was the least I could do. Especially since we shanghaied my father-in-law to provide “childcare” for us for the rest of August.

So, yeah. I have a serious infestation of pre-schoolers. And while they’re both past the everything-goes-in-the-mouth-first stage, there’s such a lot of, well, chaos. Syo, freshly turned eight, can whip up a jug of orange-juice from concentrate without me having to do more than wipe the counter after. Syo assisted by the three-year-old niece gets orange goop all over said counter, floor, stack of mail, and the orange-juice has bran flakes in it when finished. And they don’t know that the sewing room is a no-play zone. Same with the furnace room. Same with—ARGH! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU NEED YOUR BUM WIPED? WOULD YOU JUST GO PLAY OUTSIDE NOW? NO, WE DON’T HAVE A PADDLING POOL! WHY ARE YOU CRYING NOW????

Ahem.

So I’m feeling just a wee bit like I’m running around like a chicken with my head cut off. >_<

On the plus side, I did retrieve my Janome from the sewing-machine hospital, and she seems to be working again—at least, the flywheel turns freely and there was a nice little piece of fabric decorated with some gorgeous stitching stuffed under the needle when I picked it up. I haven’t had a chance to actually set her up and give her a run (see previous paragraph).

So instead I’ll show you a couple of glimpses of stuff that was in-progress when I left, lo these many moons ago. Ok, two weeks back. That’s, like, forever in internetland, people.

A handsome cuff

Of course, there’s Serena’s jacket. I really need to get cracking on this one.  But doesn’t the cuff look nice? I should’ve used more interfacing, though. When in doubt, add more interfacing. Ah, well.

Collar: a diptych

And there’s Tyo’s shirt. Here’s my nice collar. I had to show you both sides so you could see how (not) awesome my stripes are. I managed to cut one of each piece on-grain. Obviously this is one of those situations where you (I) should cut your pieces individually. Or match the freakin’ plaid. Either of which I was too lazy rushed  to do. However I did swing it so that the nice-looking side of the collar will fold out over the nice-looking side of the stand, which is why they’re on opposite sides in this flat view. Having just tried it around her neck, I may have to junk the whole thing and cut out another anyway, as this one’s going to be a bit snug. Perils of using a pattern that’s technically too small even if it is the right chest measurement.

Tyo's shirt back

I’m pretty happy with how the back is looking, though.

Hmm, have I even mentioned this shirt properly?

Tyo wanted a shirt. Way back before she went on vacation. She picked out the fabric back in the spring, and then found a pattern (7171) off the Lekala site. Their sample size is for a child of 120 cm height, which Tyo is far beyond, but the chest measurements were the same, so I went for it (with considerable lengthening of the sleeve). As I mentioned, the collar is small, so I may end up regretting that.

Technical drawing of the pattern

As you can see, instead of buttons, I’ve opted for loops of elastic on each side, which will be threaded with black velvet ribbon. Because everyone loves lacing, don’t they? You can also see my clever use of bias to avoid all semblance of having to match my plaid. Except at the side-seams, but I wasn’t even thinking about that. Figuring out how to finish the seam where the little loops are inserted was a little, ah, mind-expanding. There was seam-ripping, and possibly even a little swearing. I wound up basically doing a

You can perhaps see how I flared out the bottom of the side-back and centre-back pieces a little bit. This will hopefully accomodate Tyo’s generous derriere. I’m a touch stalled because I need to go back over the Men’s Shirt Sewalong before I get much further, to do the cuffs and plackets.

And I don’t multitask well (at sewing or at anything else) so I really need to just hunker down and finish Serena’s coat. Before I do anything else.

Dammit.

I want to make my Lonsdale

EDIT: Just got a call from the MIL that Niece #1’s tests just came back positive for strep. And Syo is already showing the same symptoms she had… Life just keeps getting better. >_<

18 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Madly off in all directions

The Scissors Family

The crunch is here and as usual I’m not ready.  Precious minutes are trickling away when I could be Accomplishing Things. So, I’ll keep this brief.

Sewing World called and the psycho-god scissors were in (pictured bottom right). My willpower shredded under their seductive snipping, and they came home with me. Cutting with them is almost like… hmm, maybe I won’t go there. Let’s just say cutting may no longer be my least favourite part of sewing. The blades are very short, something on the packaging it touting equal length for blade and handle as being important for some reason. Oookay, if you say so. All I know is they cut like… mmmm…. ok, just give me a moment (fans self). The most comfy for the hands are still the old blue ones, though.

Fabric: for niece's dress (left) and my Lonsdale (right). Yes, a print!

I bought fabric.

I started a dress.

It’s neither Lonsdale nor for me. *headdesk*

Dress in progress. Not for me. Obviously.

Underskirt for dress for niece.

It’s for my four-year-old niece, who very cleverly spent most of the two days I was down there at the end of June telling me how much she loves me, and also how much she loves the red sundress and wants one just like it. Sometimes not even in the same sentence. It’s based off a pattern from the Young Image magazine (I added the front ruching), but as usual I’m off in my own little universe so the finished product will be “inspired by” at best. Also, can you spot my goof in the picture?

I’ve made a bit more progress on the coat, then got stalled because I needed more trim. Because 4m of three different kinds of trim was obviously not enough, and I’m a complete idiot for thinking under any circumstances that it would be.

And, I’m going to feel really guilty that I have a home-made present for my niece and not for my daughter whose birthday is on Sunday.

*headdesk*

And I really want to start my Lonsdale…

13 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Slow and steady…

Blinded by the lining

Progress has been made on Serena’s coat. In fact, if I hadn’t kinda-sorta said that I would have it done by the end of the week, I’d be extremely pleased with myself. As it is, I’m still half-ass panicked. The coat construction itself isn’t the issue, it’s the embellishment which eats up time, both physically in terms of stitching it on and mentally in terms of thinking about designs—how much? How intricate? How many different materials? At the moment I’m trying to constrain myself to gold-twist piping and lots of flat upholstery braid, but it’s hard. Give me a few months of this and my latent bellydancer would bling this coat out to the nines.

Which is why I should’ve done the basic work back in the spring and then spent the summer in leisurely construction/embelishment, but anyway. That ship has sailed.

Muslin #2 (with collar)

After the fitting I basically made up a whole ‘nother muslin. If I thought I could’ve hunted Serena down for a last fitting I would’ve, but she was out of town, so I tried it on my dummy, really liked the adjustment over the rear (I added 2cm to each side of the rear princess seam below the waist) , decided that the sleeves still needed more poof, and started cutting.

And fusing.

Happy fusing fun.

Lots and lots of fusing. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank Sherry enough for introducing me to the concept of fuse-tape. I lurve this stuff. Anywhere you might use stay-stitching.

Ready for ripping /sigh. At least the grommets aren't terrible.

Anyway, at this point I have the lining basically constructed, the shell lagging slightly because I had to run out to get grommets for the lacing and now I need to do some ripping (even with the heck fused out of it, stretch corduroy is still prone to creeping; I should’ve marked better).

Oh, and I made the collar.

The collar was rather scary. It needs to stand up, so lots of interfacing was required. Pepin has instructions for drafting a stand-up Elizabethan-type collar in Modern Pattern Design, but they’re a bit confusing (In particular, she advocates spreading 1/4″ per slash while only illustrating four slashes. This is not enough.) Still, it got me on the right track, and a series of paper tracings later I had a workable pattern. Fortunately for me, it was actually perfectly possible to pin the paper pattern in place on the dummy and get an idea of what I needed to tweak next.

Collar innards

Stitching wire into casing

I also wanted the edges of the collar to be wired, for stability and moldability—who knows if it’ll look best straight up, or with the corners rolled back, or whatever. So I hunted around and found some medium-weight wire in the old jewelry/beading box, a half-package of quarter-inch bias tape (one of those thrift store finds that you’re never quite sure how you’re going to use as it was rather grubby), and set to work stitching the wire into a casing around the trimmed-down edge of my interfacing piece (which consisted of the “muslin” drapery fabric collar plus some hair canvas). It’s not at all pretty, but it’s attached and now the collar’s constructed everything should be pretty much held in place anyway. I folded the ends of the wire back on themselves and encased them in little fusible-interfacing booties, so hopefully there’s no danger of that working through the fabric.

Collar exterior

Then I hand-stitched my wired interfacing piece to the collar outside, which was already piped and embellished. Once it was in place I topstitched along some of the embellishment again, just to hold it in place extra well. Overkill? Possibly. To finish it off I slip-stitched the lining fabric to the inside. For this jacket, I am using interfaced lining fabric in place of facings, as the lining is as much for show as the shell fabric, especially in areas like the collar and tails.

No other great insightful comments at the moment. Halfway through Saturday my Janome machine grew crankier and crankier and eventually stopped turning. The engine whirs, but nothing goes around. This sometimes happens when thread is jammed in the bobbin, but there is no thread, and even un-threading the machine completely does nothing. I can still force it to stitch with the hand-wheel, but it’s difficult and doesn’t feel like something I should be doing a whole lot of. I’m thinking a visit to the sewing doctor is in order, /sigh.

Most of what I’ll be doing this week can be done on the straight-stitcher, but of course now it’s not working I keep coming up with things I need a zig-zag for.

13 Comments

Filed under Sewing

McCall’s 3415: Pride, fall, yadda, yadda

McCall's 3415

I am feeling summery-dressy.  What better way to move on to my next sundress triumph than to finally get around to the lovely McCall’s 3415? I love this pattern so much—the sleek line, empire waist, CF seam. The high, round-neck version is my favourite. And I just happened to have this fabric perfectly matching view C on the pattern envelope. I pulled out the pieces, did some quick tracing, pin-fitting, and even made up the bodice-lining as a kind of muslin to check the fit. Everything looked good.

What could go wrong?

Those of you with keen eyes may have noticed that this pattern is Misses’ size 10. Most of the 70s patterns I’ve made up to now have been a size 12.

Now technically both my bust and hip measurements are in between these two sizes, and I’ve read advice that when choosing a size from the big 4, if you’re between sizes, go with the smaller one. And with the few modern Big 4 patterns I’ve made for myself (hmm, that might actually only be one) I’ve ended up with the 10. But 12 seems to be a more common size in the single-size vintage patterns that have thrown themselves in my way, so I’ve often gone with that, and, at least for Simplicity, have my alterations pretty much worked out. The addition of a padded bra to bring my bust up to the official size-12 range, and I’m good to go.

I’m not nearly so clear for McCall’s patterns, having only made up one for myself, and that one being basically unfitted. And a size 12.

Pockets

Still, when you’re using $2/metre thrift store fabric, you can’t really justify much in the way of muslining. So off I went. I liked where the under-bust seam was falling, so I didn’t petite the bodice. I did do a small swayback alteration in the back, but that was all. I blithely added side-seam pockets, even remembering to interface the front side seam allowance (a tip from the Marcy Tilton book) so they don’t bag out. The bodice is intended to lined, with lining and shell cut from the same pattern piece. This is of course just asking for the lining edges to roll out, especially as it would be pretty near impossible to understitch those narrow parts around the neck, and I wasn’t feeling up to painstakingly making a lining piece taking into account turn of cloth, so I went with my old standby: piping. Yay! Is it possible for a wardrobe to have too much piping? We shall see…

Piping and button-loops

The pattern instructs you to use hooks and eyes for the non-overlapping closure at the back of the neck. I’m not a fan of hooks and eyes generally, and this definitely seemed a little flimsy (not to mention Becky Home-Ecky), so I made little tiny spaghettie strap button loops. I cut them on the bias, used the bobby-pin method to turn them, steamed and stretched and ironed the crap out of them until they were as skinny as I could get them, and I think I’m in love. I’m also a little astonished I was able to find a bobby-pin in my house, but anyway. The cute little buttons are from the stash, and probably are of a similar vintage to the pattern, if not older.

Zip

And then I got it all stitched up, minorly flubbing the invisible zip because I was too lazy in the zone to re-read Sherry’s tutorial. It’s okay, not great, and I did have to rip to re-position the waist seams so they matched.

And then I made my worst mistake yet. I tried it on.

hmm

Oops. Ok, so it’s not totally, totally awful. The bodice is pretty much perfect, barring a small amount of gaping at the sides that probably has more to do with my poor fabric-handling technique than anything else. But that is, ah, a wee bit MAJORLY tight through the hips. And there’s the wrinkling in the back. And a bit of gaping over the pockets, probably to do with the tightness in the hips (the Marcy Tilton book also discusses the amount of ease you need to have side-seam pockets in a skirt, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have it here. Also the side-seam swings back, suggesting I need a bit more booty room. This is, shall we say, a bit unusual for me.Hmm.So, depending on how you squint your eyes, I did one of two (possibly three things wrong. Arguably I should have shortened the upper part of the skirt to accommodate my short waist, which would basically bring up the wider part lower down to where the width is needed. Alternatively, slashing and spreading to widen the skirt from waist down would’ve done much the same thing. For fun, I took a tuck with a bunch of pins.

Pin-tucked

I didn’t do as good a job pinning up the back (it’s tricky with the zipper) but I think that’s a definitely improvement in the front. The side-seams are still pulling back a bit, though, which I think means that more booty-ease is still needed in the back.

All of which is fascinating, but doesn’t help me save the dress’s current incarnation. At this point I’m considering removing the pockets and just making the side-seam as small as I can, but since I already serged the seam this won’t increase it by much. Maybe enough to at least lose the worst of that stuffed-sausage look, though… Alternatively I could try an add a godet at each side-seam, but that seems risky, too…

19 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tulips and Tears

Tulip Pockets

When I could finally pull myself away from stitching random scraps on my new Featherweight, I settled down to start work on my cream capris. Same old pattern (Jalie 2908), hopefully a few new details.  I was SO excited to be able to thread the Featherweight up with topstitching thread and a) not have to re-thread every other seam and b) not have to jolly my Janome along (she will sew topstitching thread… with some careful finagling).

These pants are inspired by a couple of pairs of my kids’ jeans (kids’ jeans get the best little touches!), with piping and what, for lack of a better term, I’ll call tulip pockets. Using some of my japonesque-print fabric for the piping and pocket lining.

While I maintain that the idea is sound, the execution could use a little tweaking. In particular there’s three layers of denim and four layers of cotton at the bottom of the pockets, making folding and topstitching a little, ah, haphazard. I may have to go back and redo some of the topstitching. Bleh. That’s what I get for trying to cram everything in to an evening.

Three pocket pieces

Anyway, aside from the piping, I used three pieces for the pockets—well, two pattern pieces. The overall shape is based on the shield-shaped pocket I used in the bellbottoms; I traced it off, drew in the curve to make a half-piece, and used a slightly shortened version of the original piece for the backing. I was originally going to just overlap the two “petal” pieces and topstitch them together, as in the inspiration pants, but unlike my children I tend to actually stick stuff in my back pockets, and I wanted to make sure it would stay there, so I added the third piece (rightmost in the photo). Really I should just have used a tiny triangle to fill in the top of the tulip a bit, but the full backing piece was really nice for getting the overlap of the tulips (sorta) symmetrical. I say sorta because I think I inverted two of the pieces by accident when I was piping so the curves aren’t identical. Fortunately, I was able to make the two slightly asymmetrical pockets mirror each other, so it worked out.

Stitch in the ditch

I stitched in the ditch at the edge of the piping to attach the various pocket pieces together, using washable glue-stick to hold things in place. I used the adjustable zipper-foot on my Janome set up as a straight-stitch foot (with the needle going down the middle), so I could see the “ditch” to stitch in it. This helps a lot. Although the feed-dogs on the Janome are definitely not well-positioned for use with a foot this narrow when it’s centred.

Swapping machines during the same project is a new experience to me (the serger doesn’t count, that’s an entirely different beast). The Featherweight is so slow (actually a good thing, especially for topstitching!) and quiet, the Janome is much louder and sews much faster. Also it’s taking some adjusting to remember which hand to use to raise the presser foot. As a lefty, I loved the back position of the presser-foot lever on the Grand Old Dame, and it took quite a while when I got the Janome to get used to lifting the presser foot with my right hand, as the lever is tucked on the inside under the harp. Now, of course, it feels weird to use my left again. You can of course reach under the harp and lift the back lever with your right, but my battered inner lefty is determined not to give in to the right-dominated world in this one small thing (I already use scissors and a computer mouse with my right hand, dammit)

Cuffs

I also made little cuffs for the bottom of the jeans, lined with the japonesque fabric, and hopefully they will look cute turned up or down. I picked the pink topstitching thread as it matched some of the pink in the print, but I’m wondering now (of course, too late) if the somewhat darker blue I was also considering would’ve been better (to make the piping seem a little less stark.)

You can see in the very first photo that I piped the outer seam on the leg. This took some deep breathing on my part, as that’s the place I like to twiddle with the fit, which varies from pair to pair based on the stretch of the fabric. With piping, there is no fit twiddling. But it seems to have worked out, anyway.

My poor baby!

Readers, I have sinned. It has been… two days since my last confession, I guess. Tragedy struck while I was topstitching the fly with the Featherweight. I very carefully marked my curve so I would miss the bottom of the zipper underneath. In my (not undeserved) paranoia, I even hand-cranked through that area. Then, being safely past the bottom of the zip, I went to finish the last inch of the topstitching and—I broke the needle. My guess is I was pulling on the fabric and pulled it off centre with the needle in it, hitting the edge of the needle plate instead of its nice little hole. And after I replaced the needle, it wouldn’t stitch! Or, it’ll stitch once or twice, and then skip five, and then catch one… and… and…

I have a feeling I’m going to be stalking the Featherweight forums this weekend.

Forgive me, Sewing Gods! I have damaged my beautiful, new, vintage machine.

In penance, I shall do five pieces of mending and one full unselfish garment.

I guess that’s one upside of new machines. I wouldn’t be nearly so distressed if I had screwed up my Janome. Of course, I’ve broken probably a dozen needles in her in the exact same way. She puts up with my crap marvelously. Obviously I need to be a little more careful of the Featherweight. She is even older than my mother, after all.

And to make things worse, I have to finish the pants ALL on the Janome.

I’m going to go cry now. And put some belt-loops on the capris.

But mostly cry.

34 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Real sewing!

Coat for Niece # 2

… in the new sewing room.

Albeit not of a terribly exciting kind. Looking at my massive stash of coating fabric, I decided to do some reduction and tackle my younger niece’s long-neglected coat. For those with a short memory, this is basically a one-size-smaller version of McCall’s 3374, with blue leopard print fleece lining instead of pink (my sister-in-law keeps her daughters colour-coordinated. Well, sorta. When you have two kids so close together in

Pattern envelope

age, I imagine it helps with keeping track of things they have doubles of). This has to easily be my most used thrift-store pattern, this being version 3. It’s such a classic shape, once you get over the explosion of fun-fur on the pattern envelope. Of course, the envelope version is unlined, whereas mine wound up with both lining and, in these last two, interlining (I added a layer of black flannel to keep the light fleece from showing through my rather-loosely-woven boiled wool coating.

Blue leopard print fleece lining!

I did a couple of things minutely differently this time. Since I didn’t have the front facing traced out for the size 3 (the first two versions were size 4), I traced off my own facing and front lining piece from the front piece, as I learned to do from Sherry’s sewalong. I should’ve reviewed a couple other bits of the sewalong, too, like notching out the front where the facing goes and stuff, but, well, I was lazy. I also didn’t alter the original pattern to a lining pattern. I figure the extra ease isn’t really required when your lining is a knit. And I’m lazy. And it’s a coat for a three-year-old.

Fleece lining seamed to interlining to finish hem; shell hem with bias hem-facing.

I did have one flash of brilliance, where I decided to hem the lining by seaming it to the bottom of the interlining flannel and and reversing. If I’d been even more brilliant, I would’ve cut the flannel shorter so that the fuzzy lining folded up the other side of the hem more, but anyway. There’s enough extra drape in the fleece that it covers the bottom of the fold anyway.

Cute label, needs a ribbon hanging loop though.

I forgot to add the super-cute ribbon hanging-loop, although I did remember the Bookemon & Ebichu label. I probably should pick out the inner collar seam and add that—wouldn’t want my younger niece to get a jacket less cute than her sister’s.

Cuff (interior). Not finished (obvious).

I also added a piece of bias hem facing to the bottom as, ah, I may just accidentally have cut the bottom from and end where the under-side of the doubled fabric was a bit shorter than the visible part, if that makes any sense at all. Anyway. Next step is to finish the outer hem (which will be by hand), then the cuffs, and then I get to try to work the buttonholes! I will use my vintage buttonholer, of course, but I’m still not terribly accurate at placing the buttonholes with it. Ah, well, it can’t be worse than my manual buttonholes!

To continue with my Me-Made June catch up, we have:

June 10:

Transportation Friday

On a mode of transportation. The feminist in me is sad to report that I don’t drive it myself (hubby does). The chicken in me is happy it doesn’t have to control that much metal with nothing but my boots between me and the pavement. However, it was a very fun picture to take.

Springy Coat
Blue Lydia top
Jalie 2908 capris

June 11:

MMJ 11, the birth of a new sewing room!

Yes, you’ve seen this one on the blog before, but now it’s in context!

50s Shrug 2.0
Too-short tunic
Ellen pants

On June 12 I began my 70s week! So I think I’ll give that its own post…

19 Comments

Filed under Sewing

My (almost) sewing room

From this...

From this... (MMJ 8)

On Saturday, the last day of his visit, my brother and I braved the rain and Canadian Tire in springtime to procure me a shelving unit and a stacky-plastic-see-through-drawer-kinda-thing (like my technical terminology?), in the hopes of helping to transform my basement catacomb into something more closely resembling a functional sewing room. I won’t say I couldn’t’ve procured said items myself—I could have—but it’s nice to have a partner in crime for once. (Also Hubbykins recently made some less-than-well-considered bike-related purchases so I’m feeling psychologically if not actually fiscally justified in my splurge.)

... to this. (MMJ 11)

As a result, I spent the bulk of Sunday getting the mess under control.

This was done mostly in fifteen-minute bursts, as that was about all I could manage before being overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the disaster nearly two years of neglect had wrought in the room.

To my surprise, however, only about three grocery bags of actual garbage came out of the room. Everything else was either fabric-scrap or actually usable in some way.

My stash, which looked pretty overwhelming on in the top photo, all fit neatly on the shelf, although I would’ve liked to have a bit more shelf-space for sorting purposes. The only shelf that is really approaching capacity is the one holding the coating fabrics. Go figure. The patterns are now all tucked in the bottom drawers of my rolly thingy, while the notions are filing (and overfilling—I really need more room for them) the upper drawers. I hadn’t quite realized how much space zippers and bias tape can take up. The buttons and snaps are still fairly out of control.

The view from the doors. The bags under the table are all fabric scraps.

But anyway. Although I haven’t actually sewn a stitch in it yet (or even plugged the machines in), the floor has been found, the scraps wrangled into bags (I am saving them to stuff cloth chairs for the kids. Hush, I’ll get around to it.), and the non-sewing crud mostly confined to one end of the room. There may even have been vacuuming*  There were a disturbing number of loose pattern pieces lying around on the floor in various piles, which I still have to sort out and decide what’s worth saving and what will be consigned to the rubbish.

Above is the view from the doors. Yes, my sewing room has French doors. Unfortunately, rather than opening into some lush and elegant European garden, they open onto the rest of the basement, which principally functions as a play room for my children. Sweet, but not terribly scenic, especially when Hurricane Syo has been at work.

To the right of the door

As you can see, I have failed at keeping my “cutting table” clear through the tidying process. Also the ironing board. I maintain I am allergic to horizontal surfaces… they make me break out in clutter. That being said, this is eighty million times better than the view a couple of days ago, so shut up. With any luck I’ll be sewing in it tonight!

To the left of the door

All right, this is not the room’s best angle. There’s a fair schwack of boxes of old journals**, fine china*** and wrapping supplies. Not to mention a bit of stash overflow (for sorting, not space purposes). But I am not one of those people who can’t work with a bit of clutter about. My husband would be much happier if I were, I promise.

Anyway, I think my first few tasks will be some little bits of mending and hemming, but I promise I’ll get to a real project soon. I’m thinking 70s Week won’t be complete without making up one of those blouses I posted a while back…

*A whole ‘nother adventure, I admit… I’m a firm believer that children should vacuum their own mess, but occasionally have cause to regret this, like when I spend twenty minutes trying to dislodge entire paper towels that are thoroughly blocking the vacuum hose, resorting to hot-dog-roasting-sticks and eventually my husband’s computer-repair grabby tool to get it out.

**Scientific, not personal. I’m not quite that prolific in my navel-gazing. Quite.

*** Yes, I do have a porcelain set. Yes, it’s been in a box for almost four years now.

35 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Unintended stitching

I didn’t plan on spending this weekend sewing for my children. But no sooner had I finished Syo’s stretchy outfit (yes, there’s a shirt to go with the bike shorts, but frankly it didn’t work out so well and I haven’t even bothered hemming it. Which isn’t stopping her from wearing it, but anyway.) then Tyo had to assert her requirements.

Denim

You see, the other week Tyo and I found ourselves on the far side of town, in proximity to Fabric Depot, a large independent fabric store I hadn’t yet had the occasion to check out. So we did. Their website boasts that they are one of the largest single fabric stores in North America. Which may be true. I had high hopes of finding some good-quality stretch denim, having largely given up on my local Fabricland for this.

Initial impressions were quite promising. A whole room of zippers. Another of lace and elastics. Beaded and sequined panels and appliques to outfit a thousand bellydancers.  An entire upstairs devoted to home-dec fabrics—not what I was looking for, of course, but impressive and some very attractive.

Downstairs again, a series of crowded warehouse-type rooms, fabric bolts stacked on shelves all the way to the fifteen-foot ceilings, often wrapped in plastic to protect them from dust. And there were truly gorgeous fabrics in there, too. The problem was finding them.

There seemed to be, again, a lot of home-dec. A fair selection of swimwear/dancewear lycra knits. I don’t even kinow what else, really. Not only was the seleciton overwhelming, the layout wasn’t condusive to finding anything. Eventually I had to ask to be directed to the denim section.

It was a single shelf on a single unit. The denim range, though small, was gorgeous—a lot of lovely finishes and weights—but none of it was stretch. Not one bolt.

Tyo's pants---centre

My fantasies of sturdy denim in an interesting wash (or even RED!) with just the right amount of lycra came crashing down around my ears. However, the price was right, and we were on the far end of town, so I selected a lovely indigo wash with great texture (and a soft enough weave that there’s a hint of stretch) and Tyo picked out a metre of camo print.

Of course, Tyo could think of nothing for her camo but the centre pants from this pattern—draw-string-bottom capris. She was terribly excited until she realized that the pattern lacks the other attributes necessary of camo pants—waistband, belt-flaps, POCKETS.

So, we went back to our mainstay of kids’ patterns, that gorgeous Patrones Niños I got from Her Selfishnesslong and long ago. It has any number of jeans patterns, including a varietyof capris, including drawstring capris. However, the ones Tyo

Tyo's eventual pattern selection

eventually settled on (perhaps without too much thought, but anyway) were this pair. Which you can see almost nothing of except that they  have a loose, below-the-knee leg. The line drawing reveals slightly more (although it’s not actually accurate about the change pocket, if you look closely at the photograph…), including some nifty back pockets.

Line drawing

With terrifying, tightly-curved flaps.

Ulp.

Camo pockets

Anyway, we spent yesterday evening tracing the pattern (I remembered to add seam allowances this time!) and cutting it out. I even managed to track down a zipper of the kind I use for jeans—I thought I was out. We debated the merits of topstitching and settled on black. And this morning, I started merrily stitching away.

And now I’m out of black thread.

Back pockets, with flap

Somewhere in this house, I’m quite certain, is a massive jumbo spool of black thread. But can I find it? There’s plenty of serger thread, but I’ve been suffering catastrophic failure on the jeans I made last summer that I used it on, so I am reluctant to use it for regular stitching. And, of course, it’s May Long (aka Victoria Day) so nothing is open, plus it’s pouring. Which may not deter those of you from soggier climates, but I don’t even own an umbrella, much less a rain-coat.

So instead I’m blogging half-done kids’ jeans, and debating what I should do with my gorgeous non-stretch denim.

I’m thinking bell-bottoms.

14 Comments

Filed under Sewing

70s Jackets

Simplicity 6602

… are possibly not as cute as 70s dresses.

Rather than getting to any of my non-selfish sewing, I started work on Simplicity 6602, out of a narrow-wale stretch corduroy.

This is a fitted, un-lined jacket. I decided to throw caution to the wind and use the same basic alterations as my last 70s Simplicity pattern, shortening the bodice through the armscye and doing a swayback adjustment (oh, and plenty of extra length in the sleeve…)

Simplicity 6602 pattern envelope

This definitely gets the waistband to where it needs to be, although it’s still possible that I would be better served shortening a little less at the armscye and a little more from the lower bodice. I have such a horror of low armscyes, though…

Anyway. At this stage I have to admit it’s feeling a bit more like the somewhat dumpy model photo and less like the fun, svelte illustration on the envelope, but hopefully that will pass.

At least the inside is looking fun. I made bias tape for Hong Kong binding the majority of the seams. I am finally getting better at making my bias-tape (as in, having it come out at least relatively even) and sewing it on a heavy cotton like this was dreamy. This is the first time I’ve bound both sides of the seam allowance separately, and it’s a bit time-consuming, but definitely attractive.

Seam binding and waist-band lining

Stitching porn

The only lining piece is an inside piece for the waistband. The instructions would have you slip-stitch the entire thing down by hand. I couldn’t see a reason not to attach at least one side by machine, so I did, but I dutifully slip-stitched the other. It looks pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. Cotton is so lovely to stitch. (Except that this stretch corduroy loves to pucker when you’re trying to sew an uninterfaced section to an interfaced one. Argh. Anyway.)

Fusetape

I used fusetape around the neckline and shoulders rather than stay-stitching. We’ll see how that holds up. I hope it does—I love it like crazy.

Jacket Collar. I don't know why the closeups all turned out beautifully crisp but this one had to go blurry.

And, just in case I run out of excuses to make jackets for myself, my hubby has decided I should make him a replacement for his rather battered mandarin-collared frock coat, a much-loved garment that is sadly showing its shoddy construction by self-destructing after less than a decade of intermittent wear. Well, and the cigarette burn in the back doesn’t help. Anyway, I may be trying to figure out how to clone that pattern. Or how to draft a man’s jacket. I’m not sure which would be easier (or, more importantly, more fun) at this point. And my fave drafting resource, Modern Pattern Design (by Harriet Pepin, published 1942) at vintagesewing.info, seems to have evaporated (the entire site, actually), which is a tragedy of immense proportions. I may have to actually hunt it down and buy it. I’ve looked at a few other drafting books (albeit not nearly all that are out there) and none of the others seem to combine precision with clarity and lots of nifty details quite as well as Pepin’s. Sniffle.

Now… I need to decide whether or not to topstitch my jacket. The pattern recommends it and the corduroy is a narrow enough wale that it doesn’t seem to distort the stitches particularly in my experiments. But… hmm. I can’t decide.

Also, you have no idea how hard it was not to pipe the collar and cuffs. I may be a piping addict.

30 Comments

Filed under Sewing