Tag Archives: vintage

My Grandma’s Stash

Quilts from my Grandma

My father’s mother was the family quilter. I’ve mentioned my quilt before, and I believe she was also the source of the homemade christmas undies I used to get each year (my mother frequently received a matching pair). I am sad to say I was not particularly thrilled by these (not by the homemade factor, but by the slippery satiny tricot used), and when I was eight or nine finally managed to express this to my mother. The flow of home-made undies stopped—just in time for me to decide I did actually like satiny underthings after all. Kids, I tell ya.

A few years back, grandma moved from the farm to a little one-bedroom in a seniors’ complex in town. As she was giving away a good number of things, I held my breath hoping for something sewing-related, but alas received only a few photos and knicknacks. Her little cabinet sewing machine still sits in her new bedroom, with a small chair in front of it, ready to be opened out of the cabinet should the need arise. I do wonder where the cutting mat and rotary cutter got to—I suspect one of my aunts nabbed them.

Grandma's Stash

Anyway, apparently Grandma has gotten wind of my sewing exploits, because this summer she decided to send me a few small bags of old stash. Being quilter’s stash, it’s a bit different from my usual sorts. A lot of small pieces, which will be perfect for pocket linings and waistband facings, although I’m a little terrified to wash them and have them half-ravel away, some are so small. My grandma predates the concept of quilter’s cotton—most of these are poly-cotton blends if not pure polyester; they have the softness and drape of a lettuce leaf. But I have never been one to look free fabric in the drape. 😉

There are a few larger pieces—some flannel with a cute bear print, intended, no doubt, for the back of a girl’s quilt; a medium-sized piece of red and white check that wants to be a tablecloth for picnics. And, the oddest prize of them all, two pieces that appear to be intended for pillowcases, with large prints from the 80s movie Black Hole.

Now, personally I didn’t care for the movie when I first saw it and don’t like it much better now that it doesn’t completely terrify the crap out of me, but my husband, on the other hand, has quite the soft spot for it. So Black Hole pillowcases he will have.

They’ll go with the Transformers pillowcase  that recently emerged from a box of stuff I had abandoned at my father’s. I assume it must have been admixed from my brother’s stuff (also abandoned at my father’s), although I have no idea where he would’ve gotten a Transformers pillowcase. We’re the right age, but my mother was not the kind  to buy her kids themed bedsheets.

I know this fabric!

I don’t know how old most of this fabric is, but there is one piece I recognized. As a very small child I had a home-made (not by me) barbie cowgirl outfit—blue denim skirt and vest, blue-flowered blouse. And the blouse was made of this exact fabric. I had always sort of assumed my mom made that outfit, but maybe it was from Grandma. Or maybe my mom passed the fabric on to Grandma after. Or… who knows. One of the scraps here looks to be a rather shapeless sleeve that was cut but never stitched up into a garment…

Ok, I admit it, I’m pretty stoked about those Black Hole pillowcases, too.

7 Comments

Filed under Sewing

All I need now is the Lonsdale…

Patterns! Thank you, ElleC!

It was a good week, mail-wise, if not sewing-wise*. Several really awesome things came through, but I’ll stick to the sewing-related ones.

Very sweet (and tragically blogless) commentor ElleC send me a delightful package of her own Value Village pattern finds. More 70s Simplicity than you can shake a stick at (including more maxi-dreses!)! And that retro black-dress pattern is the Simplicity take on the Audrey Hepburn dress Her Selfishness copied, lo these many moons ago (It might be fun to compare Selfish’s pattern to the Simplicity one, someday when I’m in an LBD mood…). But I’m especially, super-duper, stoked about the men’s “Designer Jeans” pattern front and centre. Copyright 1981, from a design house I’d never heard of in Edmonton, Alberta, it looks guaranteed to be pure cowboy. The legs are straight, not flared (I checked carefully 😉 ), although I have a feeling they’re not very roomy. Good for me, less good for my hubster. There’s also two versions of the instructions, both of which are really nice, although I still haven’t managed to figure out what the seam allowance is. Sadly, the man has informed me that he wants the jacket I promised him more than anything else. He doesn’t seem to grasp that my jacket motivation now that real summer is here is somewhere below zero. Blergh.

Building Patterns

Equally thrilling, this pattern-drafting book arrived. I actually won it back in May after commenting on a giveaway/article on Burdastyle.com, but it probably got shipped out right around the time the postal strike got serious. Anyway, it’s here, now, and came with a cute little note from the author herself, and it looks like fun although I haven’t had a real chance to dig into it. It’s definitely text-book weight, anyway!

All I’m waiting on now is for my Lonsdale Dress pattern to arrive! Tasia shipped them out last weekend, so hopefully sometime next week…

Anyway. I am trying to spend my weekend sewing, rather than blogging (so I might actually have something worth blogging about later), so I’ll leave you with that.

 

*this not getting home from work until 6:30 thing really chokes my mojo. Bleh.

14 Comments

Filed under Sewing

How to thread a Featherweight (and other adventures)

The Little Lady

I didn’t get a chance to try out my new machine before I left. Not looking a gift sewing machine in the bobbin-case, as the case may be. Anyway, naturally the first thing I had to do once I got in the door (after kissing my husband, anyway) was run downstairs to play with my new toy.

First order of business: threading.

Threading

Now, there’s a vast amount of material out there on the internet concerning Featherweights. Probably everything you could ever want to know. But really, I learned on a vintage machine, albeit not quite this calibre  of vintage, and I could already see that the basic threading was pretty familiar. Nothing like my mother-in-law’s drop-in bobbin, sideways-spool-holding Janome that made my brain fall out.

Bobbin

The bobbin orientation, which is 90 degrees to the left of what I’m used to, was a little odd, but everything else about the bobbin casing and the bobbins was familiar enough. Fortunately or not, the machine came with its bobbins still wound with a small rainbow of thread (glad to know I’m not the only one who does that!) so I didn’t have to figure out how to wind a bobbin right off the bat. I love how easy-access the bobbin is—just lift up the folding platform at the left and it’s right there.

Bobbin rainbows.

So, I loaded up a bobbin, got the thread up to the top, inserted a scrap of fabric under the foot, and…

The engine whirred, the feed dogs moved, the needle sailed up and down,a nd within about three stitches I had a hopeless tangle and the thread fouling on the bobbin casing had sliced through itself.

Trying not to panic, I removed the bobbin from its case, put it in the other way, re-threaded, tried again.

And again.

And again.

So pretty

After ten or so tries (thinking all the while about that definition of insanity as repeating the same action expecting a different result) I reluctantly came upstairs to google “how to thread a featherweight”. But no great surprises revealed themselves. I had had the bobbin inserted properly the first time; the top thread ran through its  hooks, holes, and tension assembly just as I had thought. My stomach sank. Was something (ulp) wrong with my machine? Was the timing off? (My serger acted similarly when its timing was thoroughly blown, everything moving but somehow the stitches just not forming properly) Was something even more dire amis?

Then I reached the last, the very end, of the threading instructions.

The one major difference between the Featherweight and the other machines I have used before now. The needle (like the bobbin) is oriented at 90 degrees to the front. Instead of the eye of the needle going from front to back, it passes from right to left.*

As I’m a lefty and it was easier to get at, I had without any particular thought threaded the needle with the thread entering from the left and exiting from the right. It never would have occurred to me in a million years that THIS was the one tiny thing that could throw the entire stitch off. But there it was, in the instructions, scanned from some original manual. Thread the needle from right to left.

I rushed downstairs and switched my thread.

She sews!

And lo, she stitched. With a minor tension adjustment, she stitched beautifully. She stitched with top-stitch thread. She stitched with the buttonholer attachment. She stitched layer upon layer of denim.

Stitch-length lever. Lift to stitch backwards.

Eventually, I figured out how to backstitch (move the stitch-length lever all the way to the top). I haven’t quite wrapped my mind around not having to hold on to something to keep it stitching backwards.

Some fun details:

My mom purchased this machine through the antique shop where she works, in my home town. The machine belonged to the mother-in-law of the woman who lived next door to us when I was little.

1951

A plaque on the front of the machine declares 100 years of Singer excellence. This makes me think the machine was probably made in 1951. The serial number begins with EF, which this website suggests means that it was manufactured in the UK (Scotland, to be precise) in 1949. The motor, on the other hand, says it was made in Canada and has some notation that includes “AU 61” which makes me think August, ’61. Obviously the motor could have been replaced… anyway. I’m inclined to go with 1951 for the year, at least.

The motor

It came with neither attachments nor manual, but it did have a few cute extras in the box:

Vintage Singer needles

Several packets of needles.

Un-cleaning set

The original cleaning set. I don’t think any of these will be getting too close to the machine. That’s an impressive amount of rust, especially when there’s none at all visible on the machine itself.

Repairs

Receipts for repairs done in 1980. There’s some notes about earlier repairs stapled to the back.

Also in my home town, my mom found another Greist buttonholder at Value Village for $1.99. This one had a box of additional templates tucked in with it. She’s keeping the buttonholer, but let me have the extra templates. A shorter keyhole (yay!) but no eyelet.

More buttonhole templates! (yes, they fit)

So in short, I’m ready for my next project!

Next project! Summery capris

*Those of you who know Featherweights probably all know what I was doing wrong by now. Hush, don’t spoil it for the rest.

20 Comments

Filed under Sewing

My birthday came early.

20110702-084826.jpg

28 Comments

Filed under Sewing

The Red Polkadot Dress

Lady in a Red Dress

Some people can wear cinched waistbands. Some people can wear big shoulder-puffs. Some people can wear dirndl skirts.

Generally speaking, these people are not me. This is really too bad, as I like many of these looks on other people. And I’ve tried them on myself time and again over the years, only to go “ah, yes, that’s why I don’t wear this.” (with the possible exception of pouffy shoulders, which I like enough that I tend to ignore the linebacker effect.)

I really like the idea of dirndl skirts. They’re both ridiculously simple (gathered rectangle—can’t get any more basic than that) and economical of fabric, unlike my preferred circle skirts. But they generally sit right at the waist (not a good spot for me) and add a lot of visual bulk in that area.

With the shrug. There’s a bit of pooching out of the ruching at the bottom of the front panel, where the outer fabric is looser than the lining. Presumably I goofed my seam allowances slightly or something.

However, as I’ve observed before, something magical happens when I slide the “waist” of my garment up or down a few inches. I can wear empire waists or dropped waists until the cows come home. Now, I believe another term for “empire-waist dirndl” is “maternity wear”, but what about a dropped waist dirndl?

Well, apparently that’s just fine.

I wrote a bit here about the bodice construction and my fitting challenges process. Having largely taken care of that, I came to the next stage in construction. The skirt.

Easy, right?

I had initially planned to do a gathered circle-skirt, like the original Katjusha pattern that was my inspiration. But on examining the amount of fabric I had left after I finished the bodice, it seemed like to get the gathering I wanted at the waist (er, hip) I was going to end up with an extremely SHORT skirt.  Whereas if I went with a dirndl style, there would be plenty of fabric for whatever length I opted for. Some quick and dirty measuring (aka holding the fabric up to my hips), and I was happily ripping away. Four panels of full-width (45″) fabric, a little below knee length plus a bit for hemming.

Red Dress

Confessions of a lazy seamstress: I didn’t even trim off the selvedges. I just tucked them inside the french seams I used to join the four widths. When they pucker up and throw the whole skirt off after the first washing, you can all laugh and point.So, I had settled on my width for the outer skirt, but my voile (or whatever this fabric is) definitely needed a lining. Back to my white cotton (yes, the stuff with the laceworked panel. Don’t worry, I’m moving from the opposite end of the length and there’s a ton of it.For my lining width, I used the width of the shirred back-panel, stretched out. It would’ve been smarter to determine this width before I did all the shirring, but I wasn’t sure it was going to shirr up the right amount at that point. Shirrly* you understand my quandary? Anyway, I decided to use this width for both the front and the back of the lining. I would gather the front to the bodice front, and sew the back flat to the stretched-out bodice back. But, you really want something underneath to give a dirndl (or any full skirt, really, IMO) a little oomph. I decided to make my lining skirt tiered. So I cut it approximately half the length I wanted, and then cut four more pieces of similar length for the bottom tier, and broke out the gathering foot.

Now, this is not my ruffler, with whom I have a passionate love-hate relationship. I wasn’t willing to deal with his idiosyncracies for four measly widths of lining. (If that sounds like a lot of gathering to you, please understand that I got the ruffler foot in the first place to make tiered skirts for tribal bellydance. The first such I made had 32 fabric widths in the bottom tier. And nine tiers, although I think only seven of them ended up being ruffled. So from my rather warped perspective, this is hardly any gathering at all

Red Dress

So I decided to play with my new, inexpensive, and untested gathering foot (Here’s a post contrasting the two). I popped it on, measured some 10″ lengths on scraps of the cotton, played with my stitch-length and tension settings, and after about three tries managed to get a gathering ratio approximating 2:1. Good enough. I began gathering.

I think I’m not going to become a huge fan of the gathering foot. It’s not awful. In fact, compared to some of the shit fits my ruffler has thrown, it was possitively easy to use. But the resulting gathering is not particularly even; it’s highly susceptible to the slightest difference in how I hold the fabric in front of the foot (crowding the needle vs. letting the fabric lie flat). The main thing I like about mechanical gathering with the ruffler over my preferred semi-manual technique (where you zig-zag over a supplementary thread… the zig-zag acts as a casing for the thread drawstring which you can pull up later) is that you don’t have to futz over the gathering being even, even if it may not be the exact ratio you wanted it to be. The gathering foot didn’t seem to have this evenness, and even worse it was pretty tricky to try to re-distribute the gathers after the fact. For the lining, I didn’t care, but I wasn’t enthused about using it for something that will actually be seen. It did turn out about the right length overall, so that’s good anyway, and it was quite fast.

I did give myself one further complication, which is that I had designed the bottom front of the bodice to dip down to a V. I love this feature a ridiculous amount, but it takes a bit of mental gymnastics to figure out how to reflect this on the gathered side of the skirt. At least, without sitting down and making an actual pattern and spreading it the required amount, which sounds suspiciously too much like work. Instead, I roughly measured the depth of the “V” (minus seam allowance) down from the top of skirt centre front, and free-handed an arch going from the skirt CF to side-seam. Good enough for government work, as my mother says.

For the outer skirt, I used my preferred semi-manual gathering method, mentioned above. I use this for “moderate” amounts of gathering, or larger amounts (like this) where I value precision of the resulting dimension over precision of every little gather. I gathered the over-skirt to match the width of the underskirt, and stitched them together. Really, fairly easy peasy.

Twirling

Then, I did something I haven’t done since Tyo was a baby. I hand gathered the entire skirt front (both layers, and hand-basted it to the bodice. WTF? you are asking. I agree. But we were watching Sucker Punch with the kids last night and I could do the gathering and basting by hand without totally ditching the rest of the family. Normally I’d prefer to be hemming in such a situation, but I wasn’t quite sure of the finished length so I didn’t want to get ahead of myself and hand-hem four widths of fabric to the wrong length. I wound up shortening it by several inches, so it’s just as well I didn’t try this.

Possibly I should also have hand-basted the back to the shirring, as that was a beast to do accurately and took a couple of goes. But, water under the bridge. Man, I’m just full of platitudes today. If I can throw “a stitch in time saves nine,” in before the end of the post, I’ll be flying. Well, except that that’s one I rarely follow. It’s still good advice, though.

Red Dress

I am a little concerned that the combination of the front ruching with the full skirt have pushed this past “sundress” territory into the hinterlands of “something to wear to a summer wedding.” Since I don’t expect to be attending any weddings this summer, this would be unfortunate. I may just have to suck it up and be ridiculously overdressed (after all, it wouldn’t be the first time).I wasn’t actively going for a “vintage” look when I made this dress. Although maybe that’s an inevitable reference for any full-skirted, tight-bodiced dress these days. Anyway, pairing it with the shrug just turns the “vintage” look up to eleven. It goes, though, doesn’t it? This shrug is ridiculously versatile. Seriously, I wear it with EVERYTHING. I need about five more.All that gathering in the skirt interacts a bit oddly with the back bodice, despite my best efforts to reinforce the bottom of the shirring with some sturdier elastic, but it’s probably not something most people would notice (dazzled as they will be by the swishy, full skirt, right?)Incidentally, the length is only sightly below my knee. Tyo was standing on the picnic table to take the photos, so they’re from more of a downward angle than usual. I’m wearing the fluffy petticoat as well as the tiered lining.And obviously I need some red heels.

Final project and inspiration. I think I need a fluffier petticoat.

*I normally try very hard to resist the obvious sewing puns. I have never intentionally substitued “sew” for “so”. This one slipped through. I humbly apologize.

48 Comments

Filed under Sewing

A Me-Made Week in Review

Ok, so last time I included my Me-Made June outfit in a post was on the 6th (aside from some of the sewing-room pics on the last post). Yikes! I have been getting them up over on Flickr, though.

Anyway, before I dig into that, a cute and teensy bit of mending I did over the weekend.

70s Peasant crop-top (Pre-re-elasticizing)

This is a “vintage” (my guess is 70s, it was kicking around in my dress-up clothes from the early 80s and I presume it wasn’t new then. Also it kinda screams 70s.) peasant-top that somehow I’ve never been able to pass on, although I doubt I’ve really worn it since I was fourteen or so. Maybe sixteen. Anyway, at some point in the last fifteen years the elastic has gone to that great sewing studio in the sky, or at least its springiness had, so the shirt has been kicking around in the mending for quite a while.

Me being about as good at mending as at cleaning. I’d say I was turning over a new leaf this week, but really, I can tell the energy won’t last. 😉

Anyway, it was a matter of moments to open up the elastic casings and pull out the old elastics, and only a few more minutes to thread in new elastics, hunt down Tyo to snug them to the right size (Syo’s expression when I asked if she wanted to try it on was, shall we say, unimpressed?), and sew them closed. Then I soaked in a bowl with some Oxy-Clean for a couple of hours in the hopes of brightening up the colour a bit, which I think was successful although it’s hard to tell in the photos.

Some drying later and, voila:

Tyo in the mending

I noticed a couple of interesting things about the construction of this RTW piece. First, observe, regular RTW tag, Made in Canada, even.

Tag!

Next, observe side seam. Completely unfinished. And remarkably unfrayed after more than 30 years of wear, too. Anyway, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen unfinished seams in old RTW garments, but I feel like it’s an interesting thing to point out…

Unfinished side-seam

Me-Made June Review:

I’m thinking I’ll do these three at at time until I’ve caught up. I’ve really enjoyed some of the longer reviews other people do (like with a whole week of outfits) but I don’t think I can stand hunting down that many links, sorry.

MMJ 7

June 7. I’m a ninja!

… or that’s how I felt in this outfit. Probably less stealthy, though.

Kimono Lady Grey
skinny cargoes again.

MMJ 8

June 8. Also the day this photo was taken. A comfy, practical, and thoroughly unremarkable outfit, although I do love getting to wear this coat.

Springy Coat
Raglan knit top
Skinny jeans

S

MMJ 9

June 9. The kids and I played hookie to take my brother and his girlfriend to the Tyrrell Museum of Natural History. Not the best picture ever, but somehow the only one of the hundred-some taken that day of me. 😛 Poopily, the “button cufflinks” I made for this jacket have popped off and/or broken. In any case, disappeared. Poopy.

Cropped Jean Jacket
Cowl top
Well-loved jeansWhew

Whew! Ok, that MMJ’s me out. Will catch up one of these days…

3 Comments

Filed under Sewing

The weird and wonderful world

Assorted notions

Of vintage sewing knickknacks.

Top: Black "Kashmir Jacketing", centre: polkadot voile; bottom: red and black coating

I mentioned previously that after a bit of a hiatus, my most recent Value Village trip was, ah, fruitful. The fabrics shown to the left are all substantial chunks: 2m of the black, four of the voile, and three of the red/black coating. My husband has attempted to claim the black for his frock coat, although there’s only 2m so I’m doubtful it’ll be enough. The voile has me thinking of retro sundresses (gee, bit surprise), inspired perhaps by this Burdastyle pattern.

The red coating… I don’t know, but there’s 3m, how could I resist? It’s quite heavy and might even be wool(ish). I may have a slight “problem” with coating fabrics…

More patterns I don't need

I couldn’t quite walk out without these patterns, either, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure my pattern stash is nearing critical mass (or at least the point where I’m going to have to start organizing it on something other than the principal of superposition*. The kids’ pattern on the right is cute and summery, just the thing. I was a bit more hesitant about the Kwik Sew dancewear, but I’ve been wanting to make myself another pair of yoga pants forever, and I figure it can’t be too hard to reduce the rise, and everyone loves Kwik Sew patterns and says they’re not as awful as the illustrations, so I went for it. And the corsets… well, c’mon, who can resist a “genuine” (or at least passably historical) corset pattern?

some nifty books

 

 

I’m pretty sure I’ve heard recomendations of the book on the right… I’ll let you know once I’ve had a chance to peruse it. The book on the left… well, that kinda speaks for itself. I love Art Nouveau.

More fabric-coverable buttons

Coverable buttons. Apparently these ones don’t need a special setter/tool. And there’s a package of square ones! I’ve never seen square coverable buttons. I’m beginning to have rather a collection of these… I must actually try some sometime.

Weird needlepoint buttons

I think the oddest thing, this round, though, is these needlepoint buttons. Have these been on the fabric store shelves the whole time and I just haven’t noticed? I do tend to steer clear of the plastic canvas section. And yet, I’m oddly intrigued. I have a feeling that, if covered with a really nice yarn, they could be quite lovely, especially if you were a knitter and wanted buttons whose texture matched the knit… Or maybe they’re just irredeemably weird. I don’t knit, so I’m not likely to find out, I suppose… I have seen some vintage thread-wrapped buttons that are gorgeous, and perhaps you could get (with a LOT of patience) a similar look with these…)

In Me-Made June News

MMJ 6

Today was a wee bit grueling, culminating in the assembly of a futon so that our impending guests won’t be condemned to the (ever-leaking) air mattress. It was also grey and sprinkly, although I managed not to get actually rained on, doubtless due to the protective properties of the umbrella I actually thought to pack.

My skinny cargoes and frankenshirt. The shirt remains one of my all-time favourite knit projects, despite the fact that the bodice wasn’t quite long enough (so I haven’t hemmed it) and the twin-needle topstitching on the wrists has broken from over-stretching. Also the fabric, another one of those rayon-doubleknit things, has pilled a bit. I still love it.

The skinny cargoes have held up quite well also, albeit not quite as long. The only real problem is that I forgot that the pocket lining I used (the same asian-inspirted remnant I used for the binding in the 70s jacket) hadn’t been pre-washed (don’t worry, I washed it before using it on the jacket). It has shrunk. Not catastrophically, but just enough that there’s a bit of slackness over the front thigh, even though they don’t feel loose. Pooh. These are great pants when I want to feel tough and competent and a little bit edgy. As in, they’re not at all in keeping with the soft-pretty-spring thing I’ve had going on in most of my sewing the last few months. Ah, well. They were just what I needed today.

*geology joke, don’t mind me…

18 Comments

Filed under Sewing

50s Shrug—Now Multisize!

A snugger shrug

Hmm, need I say more?

I have, by dint of more fiddling than I quite want to admit, graded the 50s Shrug Pattern into three sizes, Small, the original Medium, and Large. I have also, for my enjoyment and your edification, stitched up a second version for myself, in the small. Stitching up the shrug itself took only the minutest fraction of the time grading the pattern took. This really is fast to stitch up.

Note: I did not follow any particular grading procedure in this case. I knew roughly how much smaller I wanted the Small to be than the Medium, and made the Large larger by a similar amount. This is highly unscientific, but seems to have worked at least in the case of the small. Anyone who tries the Large, please let me know how it works!

Extraneous shrug pic

This pattern is VERY forgiving of fit, since there’s no shoulder seam and it doesn’t entirely cover the bust, so I made quite a large gap between the sizes. I’d venture to suggest the following size-range:

    • Small: bust 30-33″; 76-84 cm
    • Medium: bust 34-37″; 87-94 cm
    • Large for busts 38-41″; 97-105 cm

It’s entirely possible that both larger and smaller sizes could fit, depending on your fabric and the look you’re going for.

Shrug, size Small: back

I made this up in the same fabric as my swingy cardigan. It’s not quite as soft, stretchy, or drapy as the fabric of my first shrug, resulting in a fairly snug garment. I like the length of this size much better, though, both in the arms and the back—the medium reached to my (admittedly high) waist, which is not a particularly flattering length on me. It looked much better on Amy.

The neck is extremely prone to stretching out. Although I haven’t tried to stabilize it with clear elastic, you might want to; otherwise, just be sure that the neck band is a good length for you and then be prepared to do plenty of easing when you stitch band to neckline. I had trouble stitching the buttonhole in this knit, too, but it worked much better when I put a piece of tissue paper underneath the fabric.

Look! A line drawing!

I have even come up with a (somewhat crude) line drawing for your entertainment.

The multisize pattern is located HERE.  There is also a link from the Patterns page. The instructions are found in the original shrug post. I attempted to tile it in such a way that it can be printed on both US Letter and A4-size paper without losing bits; this does mean that you will probably want to trim at least some of the white edges. I still haven’t developed a method for making a nice border around the pattern that doesn’t drive me nuts, so I do apologize for that. When printing, make absolutely sure that you are printing out actual size/no scaling/100% etc. There is a 10 cm/4″ sizing square for your convenience :).

Left: original vintage shrug; middle: size Medium; right: size Small.

Have fun! And if you do stitch it up, please let me know. 😀

49 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Shrugspotting

Quixotic Pixels version!

I have a confession to make. I did no sewing this weekend. Well, a bit of unpicking on the pillow cover, but no real progress. Partly I woke up Thursday with that dreaded omg-everything-aches-too-tired-to-move-but-can’t-sleep sick feeling, and didn’t really leave my bed for the next three days. I was feeling a bit better by Sunday, but my sweetie brought home Two Worlds II, which I’d never heard of but hits pretty much all my RPG buttons just right, despite it’s glitchiness and occasionally clunky animation. So Sunday was spent on the couch cheerfully wrangling over which side-quest/dungeon/area to explore next. GINORMOUS world map. Need I say more?

Anyway, in lieu of actual content, I’m thrilled to report that another version of my 50s Shrug has been unveiled in blogland. Amy of Quixotic Pixels made this version not just on a whim, but for her Sew Weekly challenge (inspired by none other than Olivia the pig!) (I’ve seen several of these outfits inspired by children’s books, but somehow I can’t find the link to the original challenge itself. Weird!)

Some of you may remember me lamenting that the shrug was not quite the right size for me. Well, I must say it is a MUCH better size on Amy, and she is smoking in it!

This makes, to my knowledge, the second version of the shrug that has been stitched up (other than my own). The first  belongs to Karen of Sewing by the Seat of My Pants, and looks like it would be so yummy and warm!

Anyway, it thrills me to bits to see these other versions out there, and reminds me that I really should get around to grading this pattern—the sizing is so flexible, a S, M, L size range would cover most people.

Are there any other versions of the shrug out there I haven’t spotted? What did you guys do for Mother’s day? (My children forgot, if you can believe it! So my hubby brought me cereal in bed…)

10 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Whew!

Five days of blog silence, haven’t done that in a while. I don’t think I even went dead that long at Christmas…

Dashing home is always hectic, and for whatever reason this time was even more so—but despite a lack of both sewing and blogging, there was no shortage of sewing-related talk and, more to the point, fabric shopping. In particular, thrift-store fabric shopping. My mom took me to her favourite little thrift-shop, which seems to have a particularly large fabric section (not sure if the fact that it’s run by Mennonites plays a role in this or not…)

Thrift store fabrics

And, well, I went a little overboard. BUT, I stuck to my “palette” and came away with mostly springy colours, mostly in lengths that should be large enough to make at least some of my dresses. Of course there were a couple of heavier plaids that snuck in, but I did resist the 4m of lavender coating/upholstry fabric (virtually identical weave, though not colour, to the stuff I’m making my springy coat out of… otherwise I’m sure it would be with me now. I’m actually kinda regretting letting that go… I might have to send my mom back for it…)

More patterns than are good for me (but at $.50/each, how can you resist?)

They also have an entire pattern-cabinet, which I dug through meticulously, and came home with probably more patterns than I should have. But I was good! No more dresses! There are a few more skirts than is probably wise, though, and I won’t get into the jackets yet…

But aside from all that yumminess (which I can’t think too much about as I have to catch up on my coat and do a couple of other things before I can think about ANYTHING else… I’ll rhapsodize in more detail later), I have to show you the bestest of all finds.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned before, but everything I know about thrifting I learned from my mommy. She was thrifting back in the 70s when you actually could find real antiques for a buck or two at a yard sale…

And a few weeks ago, she found me a Greist buttonholer attachment.

The Buttonholer

I haven’t actually used it yet. It’s possible it’s completely non-functional. But it’s pristine, still in its box, with five templates, manual, feed-dog cover—and it fits on my machine!

Buttonholer contents

And it cost her  $1.99.

’nuff said.

22 Comments

Filed under Sewing