Tag Archives: whining

June 28, 2012 · 9:08 am

Simplicity Blues, or, ElleC’s Revenge

Hmm.

Remember this pattern, Simplicity 6710? No? I don’t blame you. I probably wouldn’t either, except that it’s been kicking around the corners of my sewing room, leering at me, for three months. Well, in the wake of the Fishing Vest, I’ve been in a light-weight, puttery sort of mood, so I’ve been trying (in my half-ass way) to tidy and clear some things out in the sewing room. I finally stitched up the Young Image racerback tank in Syo’s size, which I cut out (at Syo’s request, I will emphasize) weeks ago. I’d blog about it but it looks basically identical to Tyo’s. Tyo is not pleased about that, by the way.

So, why did this project slip into UFO-dom? Well, it was a combination of factors. The single biggest is that, when I decided to make it up, I wanted a mini-dress length. I figured adding a couple of inches to the tunic length on the pattern should be good. When I got to the point pictured above and could actually tried it on, I realized we were still well within tunic territory, and at lest three or four  inches shy of mini-dress length (and that’s without considering hem allowance.) All of a sudden my excitement for the project went down the toilet.

Expecting, much?

Aside from that, this is that poly crepe and holy &*($ does it piss me off. It’s got gorgeous drape and I love the colour, but damn—it shifts, it wriggles, it slips, it frays, and it DOES NOT PRESS. Urg. Obviously there was a good reason it was at the thrift store. Also, while the drape is beautiful, it has a bit too much body for the gathers on the front (the photos are after I pressed the crap out of the gathers to flatten them). Anyone looking for a gorgeous 70s maternity dress, I think I have just the pattern for you. Which is probably at least partly the pattern’s fault—I’m thinking this is a case of excessive gathering.

And then there was the zipper. Part of a gift from ElleC this spring (I also got the pattern from her, way back when. Do I sense a pattern? ElleC, are you out to get me? Wait, don’t answer that.), it was the perfect colour, so I figured it was kismet. Or some other mythical force. Anyway, I already knew I could wriggle into the dress top sans zipper, so obviously I was just looking to make my life difficult. It was a disaster. It’s been a while since I tried to insert a centred zipper, and the crepe wriggled and slid and bubbled and bulged and, well, by the time I got it all unpicked I was thoroughly pissed off and chucked the whole thing in a corner.

The good?

But now that I’ve whinged thoroughly about the bad, let’s move on.

I made my usual changes for fit:

  • petite bodice (1.5 cm) (this required petiting the sleeves as well, which I did by just taking a fold out of the middle, on grain.)
  • square shoulder (1 cm)
  • swayback (2 cm straight across the CB piece, angling from 2 cm to nothing in the side-back piece)

That vintage look (courtesy of Picasa filters)

I even remembered to add the length I took off the back in the swayback adjustment, back on to the hem of the back pieces. Now if only I’d added a few extra inches of length all around. (And even more in the back…)

Apparently my square-shoulder adjustment was, for once, unneccessary. *headdesk* There’s some distinct drag-lines from the shoulder that go away if I pull upon the outer edge of the shoulder. I blame this at least partly on where the pattern (which has really narrow shoulders, as you can see) sits—right at the base of the neck, over my trapezius, which is the one part of my shoulder that does slope.

Back view. Definitely not dress length.

I wasn’t convinced about the sleeves, but figured I’d give them a try, and it turns out I quite like the long, swingy flutter-shape, and how they’re inserted forward of the side-seam, which I think is rather slimming. There is possibly a bit of the linebacker look happening.

Linebacker look?

I opted to line, carefully modifying the front panel so as not to add bulk, but the  broadcloth I used (because it was the right colour and handy) was not a good choice, either. A remarkable number of bad choices for one garment, don’t you think?

Not feeling like messing with the rolled hemmer, I used Sherry’s handkerchief-hem method, which worked astoundingly well aside from the fact that my hem edge was distinctly uneven and very ravelly after three months on the floor. If I had trimmed it first so it was nice and even, it would’ve been awesome. As it is, like so much of this project, there’s room for improvement.

So, in the end? Not sure how I like it. There’s a lot of little  things that annoy me, which may or may not fade after some time in the Magic Closet. But a lot of the issues were self-inflicted. With the right fabric (a scrumptious lightweight silk or rayon or even cotton gauze, maybe) and a bit less fullness in the front, this could still be an awesome dress.

31 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , ,

June 21, 2012 · 8:17 pm

A pain worth sharing.

I know most of you care about as much about the intricacies of making fishing vests as you do about, oh, sewage treatment plant design.  Nonetheless, if I’m stuck with it, I’m bloody well going to share.

Cargo pockets and back piece

 

I made some pretty good progress a couple of nights ago when Osiris’s best bud called him out for an airport-layover hangout, but then stalled out over lack of zippers. The vest requires five zippers. Fortunately (?) for me, Fabricland had their Canada Day sale early this year, so today I headed out there with a friend.

I got zippers.

I also made the mistake of looking in the clearance section. Which was fifty percent off.

Stuff that’s just kinda cute at $3, becomes really irresistible at $1.50/m.

Fabrics!

And then the awesome cutting-table lady kept getting to almost the end of the bolt and going “Ah, that looks like two metres to me…” when it was really, ah, well, let’s just say the cuts were generous. Er, so the spiderman print I got at Value Village a wee bit back, but I figure it was worth sharing (and it’s actual fabric, not an old bedsheet!). It probably cost more than any of the other fabrics, which are all fairly thin but really nice-feeling knits. And, polkadots!

Pink & green camo lycra

Oh, yeah, I forgot to photograph this one because the children had absconded with it. This was also like $1.50/m, and it was worth it just for the squeals when they saw it. Few things make my kids happier than slightly-girly camo. It’s lycra. Not good quality lycra, either, but thin, run-prone, easily snagging lycra. Ah well, they’ll be over the moon for the five seconds that it lasts…

New Look 6789

My friend bought a couple of metres of the black polkadot, too, and we spent a little while this evening altering the the pattern for New Look 6789, which will be her first “real” attempt at sewing a dress. She’s one of those short, round shapes that can never, ever find anything to fit off the rack, so I really have hopes of getting her hooked. Assuming I can figure out how to fit a body that’s about as different from mine as possible while still being the same species. We did some tissue fitting, and I made my first ever attempt at an FBA.  We won’t be able to try actually sewing for a few more days, though—but here’s hoping it works! (And since the fabric was a whole $2/m, no, we’re not making a toile. And no, the pattern’s not for a knit, but it’s a pretty stable, not-very-stretchy knit and I think as long as we interface the upper band and shoulder-straps it’ll be fine.)

I really like this pattern. I’m kind of jealous she’s going to get one before I get a chance to sew it up…

19 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , , ,

June 12, 2012 · 10:04 pm

An Odyssey in Denim

Inspiration

Inspiration

Back in the late nineties, I was a high-school student exuberantly indulging in exploring my own style, limited only by my budget and what I could find at the thrift store. I had settled, somewhat reluctantly, on Levi’s button-fly 501s for jeans—they were a decently close fit, didn’t have the hugest saddlebags at the hips, and were comfy. They had one major drawback, however—the waist was quite high and, me being as rectangular back then as I am now, rather snug.

Yes, this was the beginning of my quest for the low-rise jeans. At the time, at least in my backwater corner of North America, stretch-denim was unknown, and waistbands still hovered just below the navel. 80s-tight was out, but I was so done with oversize-grunge, and the 70s revival was only just beginning.

One day in gr. 12, probably during Creative Writing class, I had a brainwave. If I removed the waistband from my Levi’s, they would be lower-rise, the waist would no longer be uncomfortably tight, AND it would be a cool inversion of the omnipresent cutoff denim shorts everyone wore. And because of the button-fly, they would still stay closed.

I have rarely been so pleased with myself for any fashion innovation. I wore my reverse-cutoffs proudly. With crop-tops, of course, to maximize the amount of tummy-tan. (I tried to find a lingering crop-top to pose in, for posterity’s sake. Apparently the last of them have been purged from my wardrobe, although it occurs to me that I do still have one cropped boho gypsy blouse in the basement that I bought when I was 14…)

Mariah’s cut-off jeans

A few weeks later, I first saw this Mariah Carey video* (also a nifty article about the waistbandless-jeans phenomenon, which I have to say, in my area, was a phenomenon consisting of me and only me). I don’t think I can properly convey how crushed/angry/amused I was, to have been scooped on my fashion innovation. This did not, however, stop me from wearing my very first low-rises proudly. Two or three different pairs got the treatment.

Anyway, fast forward a year or two, and one of my pairs of hacked-up Levi’s was on its last legs. I had moved on to other jeans styles at that point—notably vintage Wranglers—but I wanted to give my “innovation” one last hurrah. So I hit upon the idea of having a plethora of friends sign, draw, and write all over them. Sometimes while I was wearing them, mostly not.

Anyway, having created this unique piece of apparel, I realized I couldn’t really wear the (rather tattered) jeans anymore. I hadn’t heard of the idea of setting Sharpie marker with an iron, and after the first or second wash the text was showing significant signs of fading. So I retired them, and proceeded to cart them around with me in the “sentimental” box over every move (and there were a lot of them) of the next dozen years.

Sometime this past winter, Tyo found them.

Fortunately for me, she’s not quite big enough to steal my jeans yet. But she did like the idea. As she and her classmates are graduating to middle school this year, and we’re moving away, so naturally she’s been feeling sentimental all around and wanting a way to commemorate her class. Not long after finding my jeans, she hit upon her solution—a messenger-bag, made out of old jeans, that she could take to school and have everyone sign.

Stitching the bag.

Now, ever since I saw these jeans of Yoshimi’s (back when I was brand-spanking-new to the world of blogging) I’ve been hoarding old jeans in the hopes of someday making my own pair. Well, that hasn’t happened yet, but the old pairs finally got put to use for this project, so I feel less guilty about the hoarding. Three pairs of my husband’s old pants (two jeans and one pair of khakis, if anyone cares) went into the making of these, plus the strap which was made from the cutoff legs of a pair of Tyo’s jeans which recently became shorts.

The bag

We made the main part of the bag from the butts—lots of extra pockets this way. The flap was from a leg area, the patch having been in use on the jeans. Tyo did the majority of the stitching, although I did a bit of additional patching as necessary, and the final stitching around the top of the bag, which was through the lining plus jeans waistband and belt-loops—pretty heavy-duty with some major changes in thickness. The featherweight handled it like a champ, although I still prefer to hand-wheel the really thick parts. I did a bit of re-stitching around the crotch to get them to lie flatter (the same thing you’d do if converting a pair of jeans into a skirt), and Tyo stitched across the bottom corners to give it a bit more of a 3D shape. And an interesting cutout in the corner of the flap. Just because.

Bag, open.

And Tyo took it away to school with a big, fat sharpie. Apparently her replacement teacher (who has been the source of much angst the last few months) was not impressed. Ah, well.

Happy Tyo

Tyo, at least, is happy.

Now I just have to manage to iron all that sharpie.

*This is one of those Lessons On the Fallibility of Memory. I would swear that I cut my waistbands off in Gr. 12, and saw the video shortly thereafter. I graduated high school in June 1998; the video apparently came out in 1999. Am I transposing my brainwave earlier? Or was the gap between my waistbandless jeans and Mariah’s longer than I remember? Who knows…

24 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , , , ,

June 10, 2012 · 7:46 am

Not my best work

20120609-005049.jpg

Deets

Every time, in the last little while, a friend or colleague has a baby, I think that I should make said baby a homemade gift. I’ve even bought several baby patterns with such things in mind. But so far, every time my own slackitude has won out, and I haven’t gotten around to it.

Well, this piece has, perhaps, made it clear to me why not doing so wasn’t such a bad idea.

This is a present for a little boy born last winter who’s technically my husband’s cousin (or is there such a thing as half cousin?). So this is really a lot of firsts for me—first baby sewing, first little boy sewing. Except, peeps, it’s jeans. I’ve made umpteen however many at this point. Oh yeah, first deep cargo pockets. Joy of 21 Wale did a nice cargo-pocket tutorial a while back that I totally would’ve re-read and applied if I’d had a bit more time, organization, or motivation.

Anyway, details.

This is another pattern from the excellent kids’ issue of Patrones magazine Her Selfishness bestowed upon me lo these many moons ago. Previous makes include this vest and these capris for Tyo. Anyway, there aren’t a whole lot of baby patterns in the magazine, but I did like the idea of the little cargo jeans at the back. I did decide to forego the gathered ankle, and as a result opted to square off the rest of the leg, which was drafted to taper. It has some cute details like the cargo-pockets, and a mid-leg horizontal seam that would let me use up some teeny scraps of denim that have been languishing in the not-quite-scrap pile for… well, since I made my first pair of jeans, frankly.

The pattern came in three sizes, 3 months, 9 months, and 18 months. Since the baby is currently about five months and (last I checked) a rather large specimen, I opted for the 9 months.

20120609-005919.jpg

Syo, modeling.

Um, yes, this photo is Syo modeling said jeans. That would be my almost-nine-year-old, wearing the jeans for a nine MONTH old. I mean, there’s ease (and diapers ease) and then there’s ease. The top of the pattern is basically rectangular, relying entirely on the gathered waistband for shape. Considering that they actually fit OK in crotch depth, I’m suspecting there would be plenty of ease even for cloth diapers. (And you’ll have to forgive the crappy late-night flash photos. The fact that it was dark when I finished them should tell you everything you need to know, considering we’re only a few weeks from the longest day of the year.

Er, yeah, they’re a bit roomy. Maybe he’ll get to wear them next summer…

They would’ve been quite fun if I wasn’t on such a tight timeline to get them finished for this weekend. I used two different kinds of denim, plus some grey

Side view

stretch linen for the detailing, and remembered to add some nice touches like flat piping along the side-seams and random patches and flaps here and there. I even managed to attach the snaps on the  cargo pockets without totally mangling them. (I find snaps stressful.) I did a LOT of reinforcing with soft interfacing, in the hopes of avoiding blowing my topstitching, Some of this was useful, some was overkill, and some just caused its own set of problems. A lightweight knit interfacing would’ve been better, but the only nice knit interfacing I have around here is soft but fairly bulky, which I also didn’t want. In hind-sight, I should’ve done the waistband (which is designed as one piece) with a separate facing in the linen. It’s so nice and soft, whereas the denim I used on the waistband is fairly harsh. Though it does soften fairly nicely with wear.

I added studs, but because I didn’t want any metal against sensitive baby (or, as it will be by the time they fit, toddler) skin, I inserted them just in the outer layer of the pocket, before sewing the pockets together. Strictly decorative. I also used a my usual adjustable-buttonhole-elastic in the waistband, rather than doing a stitched-down elastic waistband as the pattern suggested.

All in all, they were fun, I just wish I’d been less rushed—I would’ve been able to enjoy the process more, not to mention taking more time to screw up less (and fix what I screwed up more.) If jeans are all about the precise details, well, these have plenty of detail, not so much precision.

Ah well. They’re done, and gifted, and the mom and I had a nice chat about how she loves the idea of sewing, and the amazingness of Pow-Wow costumes, and geez if I had a nickel for every time someone says to me “I’d love to learn to sew BUT”…

Ah. well. Done. And I can get back to sewing for MEEEEEE.

As soon as I have the energy to do more than stare at a screen, anyway.

29 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , , , , ,

June 7, 2012 · 9:06 am

Desperate little bits

Little Bits

Sewing has been happening, in lots of desperate little bits.

This weekend we are going to my husband’s grandfather’s funeral. My husband wasn’t particularly close with his grandfather, and the passing was not entirely unexpected, but it does mean we’re going to be seeing a couple of little cousins we don’t often see, including the intended recipient of the Sweet Little Dress. Unfortunately, upon consideration, I remembered that said little cousin, while a slender member of her age-group, still gives Syo hand-me-downs… so I nerved myself to make another sweet dress, in the size up (size 140, for reference). As per usual, making something the second time tends to allow me to skip things and otherwise screw up—there have been a few improvements, but a lot of growling and even unnecessary hand-stitching.

And since we’re giving her a hand-made present, her little baby cousin, who was born last winter, should probably get something hand-made as well. Assuming I can pull that off tonight (I do like some of the baby-boy pants in this Patrones issue). /sigh. And because I should have been doing that, I’ve been working in frantic little spurts on the thing for me, which photographed as featureless black, so you’ll have to guess what it is. 😉

Oh, and Tyo has been desperate to work on a project for school, which we’ll have photos of tonight, maybe.

I don’t really like working on multiple projects at once. I feel like I don’t really get in the zone with any of them. Tonight, I really have to prioritize and get the presents DONE. But right now I’d probably better get my butt in gear so I can put in a reasonable day’s work and still have a bit of time to sew tonight.

>_<

13 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as ,

May 12, 2012 · 8:47 pm

The Dregs

The dregs.

As I arrived for my weekly thrift-store scour, I saw the thing that most delights and alarms a thrifter: competition. A woman was standing over the pattern section (which was bulging), rifling through the patterns, basket beside her.

And peeps, her basket was full. Of patterns.

I checked out the rest of my usual spots—fabric, books, shoes—and wandered back. She was still there, still going through patterns. I hunted vainly through the bedsheets, but she was still there.

Finally, I gave up and went over and wriggled my way in beside her. She was mostly going through the ones already in her basket. I tried hard not to look at her basket, not wanting the pain of knowing what treasures I had just missed out on.

As I was sorting through the remaining patterns, another lady came and edged her way in beside us. This is a first ever, folks. I wasn’t even sure that anyone else *ever* bought the Value Village patterns—I had gotten practically complacent, frankly.

Anyway, despite getting the picked-over remains, I came home with a fairly massive haul. Not a lot of absolute gems, but some fun, quirky ones that I couldn’t pass up. And some more really cute kids’ clothes. The majority of the women’s patterns were in a size 6-8, however, which tempers my enthusiasm a little as that’s a fair bit of grading up. On the other hand, there was a man’s suit pattern (complete with the name of a designer I’ve never heard of), in a size 40 chest, which is my husband’s size—assuming we lived in some alternate universe where he would even remotely consider wearing a 70s-wide-lapel-bell-bottom suit.

I have definitely crossed a perilous threshold, my friends. I am now officially a pattern collector—someone who buys patterns merely to *have* them, even knowing she will likely never make such a pattern (boys suits, eg.) It just has to be the right vintage, the right style.

Well, at least they’re all cheap. And they take up less space than fabric. Now if only I can stay on the right side of the line leading to “pattern hoarder.”

I’m pretty sure she walked away with a basket full of forties and fifties patterns. In factory folds. With a 34″ bust. And probably this one, too.

13 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , ,

May 4, 2012 · 2:33 pm

Attack of the Vogues

Latest pattern binge

Value Village (Your Thrift Department Store!)’s pattern section was absolutely stuffed this week (double the size it was last week) and what it was stuffed with was Vogue patterns.

Unfortunately, it was stuffed with 80s Professional Woman Power Dressing Office And Evening Chic Vogue patterns. Even for $0.49/apiece, I couldn’t justify more than a couple. And, some more kids’ patterns. It’s an addiction, I tell you, because I know that my kids won’t wear most of these.

Because I’ve been trying to clean up my basement (rather than sewing) in the evenings this week, and thus have nothing to write about, I’m going to witter on about the patterns a bit more. They’re not really deserving of it, but I fee like it.

 (Not to mention Tyo’s stomach bug hi-jacked me and I was up every hour last night and let’s just say that was the single most disgusting night of my life so far, including childbirth and the one involving dead dogs and formaldehyde. AND the Centipede Incident. So today I’m just drinking electrolytes and trying not to wish I were dead and wondering if I dare inflict ibuprofen on my stomach.)

Mccall’s 6159

I’m developing a soft-spot for these McCall’s “Carefree” patterns almost as big as my 70s Simplicity weakness. Although I think in this case it’s mostly for the charming illustration. I like versions A and B, though I never actually wear vests so it’s probably not a really smart purchase.

McCall’s6521

Speaking of McCall’s Carefree. This one is a Young Junior/Teen pattern, size 7-8, which is for someone with a 29″ bust and 32″ hips. Another pattern smack in between Tyo’s size and mine. What is it about those 70s athletic shorts with the contrast binding that absolutely undoes me?

70s athletic shorts

Oh, yeah. This probably explains it. The photo is from about 1983, but the clothes were probably pure 70s hand-me-downs. Obviously my love for short shorts, kneehigh socks, and the colour red was established early.

Vogue 7214

I don’t know that I like any of the individual elements in this pattern especially, but something about the whole look just evokes early 20s to me—skirt length, boxy jacket, cloche hat. 80s style is so hideously distinctive, it’s often easy to overlook how much it drew on past eras…

Vogue 7605

Yuck on the jacket and the pleated skirt (although note the boxy 20s silhouette again), but I really love the tucked cami. Of ocurse, it’s basically some lightly-shaped rectangles, but y’know. Fifty cents. Vogue.

Vogue 7829

This is probably the crowning glory of the “score”—great full-skirted, princess seamed coat. Wait, where have we seen that before?

Yeah, yeah, bite me.

On the upside, the Burda Magazine issue I won on Alexandra Mason’s blog a few weeks back finally arrived! It’s the October 2010 issue, which has at least two patterns that jabbed me in the eye saying “make me make me makeme” when they showed up on Burdastyle.

source

This cool swing-jacket type thing

source

and this fitted-bodice, gathered skirted dress.

source

Oh, and Tasia just released the new Sewaholic Pattern, Cambie, a gorgeous, sweetheart-neckline, fitted-bodice, full-skirted dress.

Which brings the tally of patterns in this style I want to make up to, like, five. Or is it seven? And you can read up here on my difficulties with pulling off this style in the first place…

Usually I’m pretty good about sewing up cake rather than frosting, but right now the frosting part of my brain seems to be jonesing hard. Ah, well, I guess that’s what Fantasy Sewing is for…

I’m trying to read blogs  but even that is almost too much work, never mind commenting. Argh.

31 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , , ,

April 27, 2012 · 7:23 pm

More Fantasy Sewing: Pyjama Party Edition

The Great Pyjama* Party Reveal is coming up, and, as with every challenge and sewalong I’ve skipped out on in the last few months, I’m totally jealous. I didn’t sign up because I just made loungewear not that long ago (the infamous Pink Suit), which gets worn for pjs plenty, and I have lots of other things on my plate. But does that impede the green-eyed monster? Not a whit!

Me-Made-May (which I’m also not signing up for as I’m totally incapable of actually challenging myself right now) is TOTALLY going to suck. If I sulk the whole month, you’ll know why.

Anyway, ending tantrum, let’s get back to the fantasy sewing. If I were a part of the Pyjama Party (which I’m not, so y’all can hit someone with a pillow in my honour), I would be sewing this:

70

Pyjama Party!

This is my lone Advance pattern, which I found at the Mennonite thrift store in my hometown a few months back. Bought, frankly, because it was there and significantly older than my usual 70s “vintage” scores and it was Advance, a company I’ve only heard of on blogs before (not having a lot of JC Penny stores around here, as far as I can tell.)

Black & Grey stripe

Now, for the fantasy fabric. I don’t have a whole lot of fabric in stash that screams PJs at me. Maybe the black & grey pinstripe from my willpower fail? It’s soft and fuzzy and a bit stretchy, but seems kind of, hmm, nice. I was thinking more like officewear for it.

Because, y’know, I wear so much officewear.

Grandma's flannel

The first thing that comes to mind for a pattern like this is, natch, flannel. I don’t keep a lot of flannel in stash. There’s some plain black (boring), this really twee bear stuff from my Grandma’s stash, which is either destined for a twee little girl or needs a much edgier pattern. Is there such a thing as an edgy pyjama pattern? Hmm, now my brain is going in a sexy-slips-made-out-of-flannel-instead-of-satin direction. Weird. Probably Wrong.

Crazy flannel

There’s this crazy dye-splotch flannel, originally purchased for making little zip-pouches and rice-bags for school presents. Hmm. But I think I had convinced Syo that it would be an acceptable backing for her crazy pink fun-fur, part of which she made into a pillow, the rest of which is supposed to become a blankie. This is what happens when you have to buy remnants and the second one is free…

Sparkle seersucker

For summer PJs, seersucker is a popular choice. I only have one piece, which is cute pink, white, and blue, with a little bit of silver sparkle shot through. I have a shitload of this, purchased on mega-clearance and originally earmarked for little-girl dresses, except that my little girls have gotten distinctly less little-girly in the last couple of years. On the other hand, I still have little nieces, and I’m not entirely sure that the silvery bits would be totally comfy for sleeping in.

Then there’s the navy seersucker that’s been taunting me from the fabric section at Value Village for the last two weeks. I’m resisting because it’s a tad expensive—six bucks for a piece not quite two metres—for thrift-store fabric, anyway. It would be nice for PJs (or a nautical dress) but I’m trying to resist because of the price.

Resist, damn it. Resist.

Of course, the sewalong is pretty much done right now, I’m in the middle of the spring dress of evil polyester doom, and have no real need of vintage-inspired pjs (that I’m pretty sure Osiris would find totally unhawt, even worse than the Pink Suit)… so there will not be any sewing of this pattern, at least right now. But I was feeling the itch, and I think this post has kinda got it out of my system…

Hey, it’s my fantasy. :)**

*Yes, I’m in the Y camp.

**I’ve decided, since my “wanna!” list is so much longer (and ever changing) than my “actually can” list, that I’m going to subject you all to some fantasy sewing posts. Posts about the fabric I’d like to be stitching up, and what I’d stitch it up into (or vice versa). If you’re lucky I’ll get bored of them soon… 😉

39 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , ,

April 24, 2012 · 9:20 am

The Rolled Hem Foot—Devil or Divine?

Hemmers

It’s no secret, I think, that the rolled hem foot is one of the more frustrating of the assorted sewing machine attachments out there. Particularly since at least one is included with every machine I’ve ever seen (And if your machine didn’t come with one—well, not sure if I should offer condolences or congratulations on a bullet dodged 😉 ). (Above is the selection of hemmers that came with my vintage Domestic straight-stitcher, hence the weird clamp style foot. Most of the ones I’ve used are on the narrower end of things.) The basic idea is simple—the curls of the foot guide the fabric up and under itself, making a neat, narrow little hem without you, the stitcher, having to measure, press, or otherwise futz with the fabric. The practice, alas, seems to be the problem.

If you are a past-master of this particular, frustrating little foot, please chime in with your secrets—I’d love to hear them.  Because I have a few tips, but definitely no miracles to offer.

I was totally intrigued when I first found this foot among my mother’s plethora of attachments (I was probably ten). Needless to say, my early experiments were not a resounding success. Not that Barbie minded much, fortunately.

I too a stab at the foot now and again through my long-but-indifferent costume-sewing career. Mostly without significantly improved results. The fold wouldn’t form, or it would but bits would stick out; it lumped and bumped and was generally inconsistent, since my cutting was pretty inconsistent, too.

I can count on one hand the number of really awesome hems I’ve gotten with one. Actually, scratch that. I can count the more-or-less-adequate-acceptable bones. There aren’t any totally flawless awesome ones. But frankly, with this foot, I feel pretty darn proud of even achieving “adequate.”

Tiered Skirt edges

Tiered Skirt rolled hem

My first “breakthrough” in the use of the rolled-hem foot came while making a tiered skirt for tribal bellydance. I’ve been meaning to do a post about these skirts for ages, but haven’t gotten around to it.  I used the hemmer foot to hem the five zillion miles (ok, actually only about 25 yards) of the bottom tier. This is actually an AWESOME way to gain skill (or something vaguely approximating it) with this attachment, because it’s lots of practice and after the first yard or two you really stop caring. And the edges are perfectly straight and ripped, which is relatively easy to maneuver (although the ripped threads may stick out). The only tricky part (as usual) is going over the seams, and like I said, after the first few, you really stop caring.

Skirt in action

More recently, I discovered in making the Sheer JJ blouse, that it’s much easier to get a nice hem if you zig-zag over the little roll.

Sheer JJ

This isn’t great for all hems, as it makes a somewhat stiffer edge, but if you want a lettuce-edge or a perky ruffle, it’s a great, easier finish.

Sheer JJ blouse ruffle.

And now, I’ve managed to (semi) successfully apply a rolled edge to the hem of my friend’s Ruby Slip. So I’m really kinda stoked with myself.

Pretty much, anyway.

Shut up. I’m calling it a win.

Silkier Slip hem

Now, first off, I did not do this blindly. I took some extra fabric and I sampled and sampled and sampled. Between my various machines I have several rolled-hem feet to choose from, and I tried LOTS. I wound up using one of the zig-zag machines, because I could adjust the position of the needle to be in the right spot to catch the inner edge of the roll. I opted for the narrowest hemmer of the Pfaff’s feet, which is very narrow indeed. And, miraculously, I was able to get a really nice, insanely narrow hem around about 90% of the hem. I still made a hash of the seam-crossings, and yes, there are a few areas which aren’t fully curled, but really, I’m still pretty stoked.

Messy seam area.

In some ways, the fine, bias fabric was a blessing for this kind of hem. It was easy to cut smoothly (no jags) and the bias doesn’t fray much, which also helps a lot. On hems like this, even tiny stray threads can be a problem. And, although the slippery bias was a pain to get started, it was also easy to adjust as I went, keeping the hem even.

Rolling the hem. I wish I could get a picture of how I *actually* hold the fabric, but that takes two hands.

For the sake of those of you who are more like me—generally frustrated beyond belief by your frigging’ hemmer foot—here are my tips, for what they’re worth. Please chime in if you have your own!

  • cut the edge SMOOTH. Those little scissor jags or stray threads that you can ignore in a normal hem? They’ll FUCK YOU UP!
  • experiment with your needle placement (assuming you’re using a zig-zag machine) to get it to stitch right at the inner edge of the fold. Too far to the left and you won’t catch the fold; too far to the right and you’re more likely to have it unfold on you.
  • Better yet, try zig-zagging over the whole roll (see above)
  • when stitching, you need to watch both sides of your fold—the fabric edge, and the fold, and keep them in place relative to the foot. Also watch for any hidden folds that might develop under the foot. Don’t be afraid to stop (needle down), lift the foot, and re-position stuff.
  • keep the tension light on the fabric (ESPECIALLY if you’re sewing on the bias). Yeah, this makes it really easy to manage the previous point 😛
  • start the hem by rolling a little bit of the hem with your fingers, then putting that part under the foot (secured with a pin if necessary and possible) and then wriggling the roll into place around the little scroll of the foot. The very start is the second hardest part; the hardest is crossing any vertical seams, at least in a narrow little hem like this one.
  • using a pin or awl tip to help manipulate the fabric inside the scroll, particularly when starting or when crossing a seam, can help. A bit. Or make things worse, but hopefully help. It seemed to help more on slightly wider hems; on this narrow hem there was just no room for the bulk of the serged seam to fit through the scroll. Your best bet (again, I’ve had more luck on less slippery fabric with slightly wider hems) may be to stop (needle down) just before the seam, raise the foot, pull the fabric out of the scroll and hold it rolled by hand, lower the foot, stitch over the hand-rolled bit, and then lift the foot and wriggle the fabric back into the scroll.

Using a pin to poke the seam through.

Even after all that, I can’t really say that the rolled-hem foot is the best method I could’ve used. Probably I could’ve done as well, maybe even better, using Sherry’s baby hem method. And yet I persist with the rolled hemmer, just to say “I tried.”
My previous comments on the rolled hem foot did bring out a few lovers along with the haters:
Anne and LinB, both of whom appear to be blog-free (but if you’d like a link somewhere, please let me know!), recommended stitching with the fabric held up from the bed of the machine. I will totally be giving this a try next time the insanity seizes me (I do still have the Ruby Blue to finish…)
The Perfect Nose loves her rolled hem foot (I know, I want some of what she’s on 😉 ) and uses it for seam allowances, which had never even occurred to me but is a great idea if you’re trying to do that fold-over finish! Of course, hers came with an instruction manual. Yeah, instructions, pfft! 😉
Got your own story of rolled hem disaster or conquest? Or another great tip?
Like, maybe, don’t even try? 😉

58 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , ,

April 19, 2012 · 8:36 am

A Silkier Slip

A gift slip

You may recognize this as the slip I teased about a little while back. Now that the gift is sent, I can talk a bit more about it. Ada, who has been one of my best friends since High School, is getting married.

Unfortunately for me, she decided to do it in Mexico, and between family and THESIS obligations and the eternal (lack of) money, I couldn’t go. This is the woman who came to prenatal classes with me, who was there when my kids were born. And I can’t be there for the most amazing day in her life since, oh—at least since she got her Master’s degree. POOPY!!!!

On the mannequin. Even padded out, the fit on my duct-tape-double is mediocre, but hopefully the real-life fit will be better.

But I could (attempt to) make something for her that would be, if not as awesome as she  is, at least really, really neat. And as soon as Sherry came out with the Ruby Slip pattern last Christmas, I knew what I wanted it to be.

Unfortunately, I also knew exactly what I wanted it to look like. Teal fabric with orange lace, her signature colours—a pairing as unique and awesome as she is.

The problem with having the exact image in your head is, nothing you look at in the store ever quite matches up. I even found silk charmeuse in the perfect slightly-burnt-orange shade, but couldn’t find a lace that was a worthy match. I bought four metres (!) of teal stretch lace (with sequins!) but while it has a certain coolness, it’s also tacky as hell, and I couldn’t bring myself to use it. This time. No promises for the future.

So, in the end, I settled. Despite being 100% polyester, this fabric feels just as nice as the above-mentioned silk (seriously, with my eyes closed I couldn’t tell the difference), and was a fraction of the price. Not that I was going for cheap here, for once. And while the print isn’t quite what I envisioned, it is very her. I think. Oona should be proud—I have such a hard time wrapping my head around prints. The lace is the same thrift-store stuff as my blue slip—as I said, I haven’t found anything nicer.

In theory, having just made the blue version, I should avoid making all the mistakes I made the first time around, right?

Hmm.

Detail

Sometimes that works. Other times, I just seem to end up paying less attention (because I totally know what I’m doing, right?)

So some things are better in this one (my bias side-seams, for example). Others… were not quite so smooth (some of my seam-matching on the bodice, eg.)

The fabric was slithery and slinky, as is to be expected. However, it mostly went together well. I think the most alarming thing about sewing on the bias is how the lovely 1cm seam allowance (my favourite seam-allowance width) can shrink to half or billow wider, all depending on how much tension you have on the fabric. Sherry suggests sewing the bias with a slight tension on the fabric, which is what I tried to do, but it’s still a bit alarming and fiddly. I didn’t have much trouble with riplling seams, though, except a bit around the bottom of the bodice that probably have more to do with the stretch lace and the clear elastic I added in there (probably not necessary) than the bias.

Now, those of you who just like to look at pretty pictures can probably go on with your lives. Those of you who actually enjoy obscene amounts of construction detail, read on. 😉

The shoulder straps

An adjustable strap

Not having the recipient available for fitting, I wanted to do adjustable shoulder-straps. Naively, I headed off to Fabricland to pick up little rings and sliders. I knew they had some bra supplies—underwires and formed cups and bra-hooks—so I assumed they would have little sliders, too.

You guessed it. Nary a little slider. There were two styles of complete, ready-made straps, with sliders on, one of which cost $12.95, one which cost $2.50. Of course, I didn’t want pre-made straps—I wanted gorgeous slinky silky matching straps—so, I went with the cheaper ones. Which means I basically spend two-fifty on the crappiest, cheapest plastic rings and sliders ever. I’m sorry, Ada. My bad. I promise I’ll replace them when they fuck up. I should probably have just bought a junk bra from the thrift store and scavenged off it.

Back loop

Other than that, making the straps wasn’t too hard, especially since I could compare them with the crappy pre-made straps for how the loops needed to loop together. I wanted the straps to fit the sliders (at least more or less) so I didn’t make the straps as narrow as I could have. I will say, turning spaghetti straps in this kind of slinky fabric is insanely easy. I would’ve used the bobby-pin method, but I couldn’t find my bobby pin, so I used a small safety pin instead, and it worked just fine, although it’s not quite as slick as the bobby-pin method. Stitching the little loops wasn’t too hard, although I initially tried to attach them entirely by machine, which basically flattened my slender bias straps into fat wads of ugly thread. Fortunately the straps were super-extra-long so I was able to just cut off the booboo and re-stitch by hand. Not exactly the flawless finish I was hoping to give Ada, but pretty enough.

The Hem

The Good

And then, when I had everything together, had hung the whole kaboodle, adjusted the length to be a bit more even (hopefully), I got a little crazy.

I decided I would try and do the hem with my rolled-hem foot.

Rolling the hem

Judging by the comments on my teaser, I am not the only one who has a love/hate (or hate/hate) relationship with this damned, deceptively simple little attachment. It’s not coincidence that Sherry, for the sewalong, advised sewing the hem in two passes. Not that that method doesn’t require skill, either ;). I’m not quite sure what possessed me to try the foot this time, either, except bloody-mindedness. And I was going to go into a bit of detail here on my history with this insidious foot and the things I do to (attempt to) master it, but it was getting really, really long so I think I’ll throw it up as a separate post. Gotta milk my sewing woes for all they’re worth. 🙂

The bad: messy seam area.

In short, I finished the slip, wrapped it up, and sent it off with a friend who was flying down for the ceremony.

So now my main fear is that it’s not going to fit. Ada gave me her measurements (high bust and full bust), and as she’s a rather well endowed lady, I did an FBA following Sherry’s method which I *hope* will be adequate. Part of it is that Ada’s lost weight since I last saw her (and probably more since she gave me the measurements after Christmas) so the Ada in my head is not the same size as the real-world Ada.

I seriously don’t know how people sew wedding-dresses. The hardest part of this make was that perfectionism (which I usually confine to areas of my life outside of sewing)  reared its nasty head. How can I send my BFF a wedding present with a wonky hem? With less-than-perfect stitching? That might not fit? That has cheap crappy strap sliders? Aaaaaaaaaah!!!

Breathe, Tanit. Breathe.

So that was my weekend. How was yours?

37 Comments

Filed under Sewing

Tagged as , , , , , ,