This is a sewing related post, I promise! There is something nice about not being forced to read theology anymore, yet happily doing so anyway. I believe it is divine assurance that, despite everything I feel right now, I am right where I need to be in terms of vocation. I am aware that this vocation may change, expand, and will hopefully develop more fully, but I am starting off well. My latest kick post-NT Wright has been Dorothy Sayers. I have had her book Letters to a Diminished Church for quite some time now and am just finally getting to it. I love it. She captures many of my own intuitions far more eloquently and succinctly than I can currently manage, and I am learning a great deal from her. Her creative spirit inspires me to be even more creative. It sounds incredibly silly, but there are times when I am sewing that I feel as though I am taking part in creation itself. Weird, but true.
Tea in hand, book on the sideboard, and fabric before me, I made yet another skirt. This one is courtesy of Pinterest via this blog. I will admit, the instructions are a bit confusing due to arithmetic and I being sworn enemies, but I lucked out and am almost her same measurements. Huzzah! It is darling and I love the color of the fabric (the mid-priced broadcloth from JoAnn. Nothing fancy.) It is actually a Tiffany blue, but it looks much more pale in the photos than in real life. The last one is closest, but still a bit off. If I make it again, the waist will need some adjusting as it is quite "gaping," but otherwise, I am pleased with it.
Life is too short not to make fun skirts, so I decided to do just that today. Additionally, the fact that I have succumbed to wearing pants all too often has weighed heavily on my mind as of late, as has my poor, neglected sewing machine. Poor Lydi; Credo and other silliness has separated us for far too long.
Adoration for my household appliance aside, I have a favorite pencil skirt that came as part of a suit. I rarely wear the jacket, but I find myself constantly reaching for the skirt to pair with other tops. It is the perfect, conservative length and doesn't "cling" as many pencils do (skirts that is, though I do seem to always have Dixon Ticonderogas on me for some strange reason). So in a bout of insanity and wishful thinking, I decided to replicate it.
I had a ghastly long explanation as to how I made the muslin mock-up/pattern, but then I thought to myself "No one wants to read that." That's the short version. Anywho, here are some pictures if you really want to know what I did:
And that is pretty much how I did it. (What you don't see- I lined it with white muslin and reinforced the waist with interfacing. Other than that, it's fairly self-explanatory. Oh, and the back piece was cut in two so that I could sew in a zipper.) It was a rather simple undertaking for my first drafting project, but I am thrilled with the result, so thrilled I may need a few more of these. I hope to do more in the future with drafting. It is very satisfying making something that you have truly designed yourself. (Well, if it turns out right... ;-D)
Another front shot. Would you believe this took less than a yard of fabric?
Side; I hope to figure out how to add an overlapped slit in the back, but I decided to forego that this time around.
Living in a one-bedroom apartment as a woman who sews and is involved in all sorts of craftiness is rough. One day, I will have a dedicated space, but for now, I am utilizing my tiny coat closet and the little area around the 301 cabinet. For a while I played the "pretend this is just a weird table placed in an awkward spot in the living room" game with the 301, but I have now decided to fully embrace its sewing-awesomeness and create a space where I am inspired to sew. Whee! Here is how it all happened:
Artwork: free, printed from the interwebs on cream card stock
(The quote is one by Dorothy Sayers- one of my favorite authors. The background is scrapbook paper.)
Frames were purchased for a dollar each at Goodwill then painted and lightly sanded for that distressed look.
Ah, Dorothy Sayers.
Letters: A tutorial
Materials- cardboard letters of your choice (these were $.99 at the craft store, but you can cut your own from cardboard); an old sewing pattern, scissors, Mod Podge, and a paintbrush.
I don't think I'll be missing this one...
Step one: Take the desired pattern and cut it into strips. This was the way I chose to do it, but I suppose that you could lay an entire piece over the letter and cut around it.
Step 2: Apply the Mod Podge to the letter and then apply the pattern. This is pretty easy- the tissue consistency of the paper makes it very easy to smooth out and move around curves. Just be careful not to tear the paper.
Step 3: Apply a topcoat if desired. I chose not to.
And ta-daaa! You have some swanky letters that cost you less than $7! And you used up a pattern that you may have never sewn. Doubly splendid!
Cutting strips allows you to pull areas of interest from the pattern (e.g. grainlines, notches, etc.)
I have this favorite thrift store in Plano. It's just called "THRIFT STORE."
The reason I like it is that the stuff is cheap and there is a lot of it to sort through. There are also plenty of lovely items such as this thing of beauty...
What to do, what to do...
I came to the conclusion that the "quasi-Amazonian jungle/quasi-Arizonian" print was kind of hip, there was just too much of it. So, a skirt it is!
First, details:
Price: $3.49
Size: Large
Fabric: Jersey/cotton, but not stretchy
It's alive!!
Extras:
Black elastic (2 inches wide; about 1 yard)
I first cut off the skirt, released the gathers, and ironed it. I cut 2 panels that, together, equaled double my waist measurement + 1 inch, and were about 21 inches long
Yay!
I then proceeded to make a pretty simple skirt with an elastic waistband. I've seen a lot of these around town and in fashion magazines, and thought "why not?" The fabric did have some holes which required some patching with the use of extra material and some fusible web, but you can't even tell.
Cost Breakdown:
Dress: $3.49
Elastic: 1 yd at $0.99 per yard
Total: $4.48
Inspired by this girl , I decided to join the world of upcycling clothing. Without belaboring the point, there are several reasons for this inspiration:
1) School has started again and I really do not have time to make dresses from scratch (and have them look good), but I want to keep sewing. It has become a spiritual discipline of sorts.
2) I spent most of my saved library money on textbooks and a new front tire, thus, no money for fabric.
3) It's green. I know we are all sick of that term, but really. Polyester will last for-ev-ver. When I think of all of the fabric in landfills, it makes me sad.
4) I believe in taking those "permanent" items that never sell at thrift stores and garage sales off of people's hands. This first dress is one of those items (the lady at the register looked at me like I was nuts-o when I bought it. Apparently, it had been there for almost a year.)
Dress One: Rosie Gets Riveted
As I took this, I began doubting my
sanity...
I found this lovely frock at a Goodwill near my apartment. I really liked the fabric because it reminded me of a vintage feedsack (that's a good thing). However, the dress' shape also reminded me of a feedsack (not a good thing).
Details
Size 16
Cost: $3.23 (Originally $5.99, but it was half off purple tag day!)
Material: Polyester
Process
First order of business, remove the shoulder pads, sleeves, and side sashes.
Cue "Designing Women" theme
Next, I put the dress on and pinched in the sides and shoulder seams to decide how much to take it in. (about 2 inches in the shoulders and 2.5 inches + seam allowance on each side) I debated restyling the sleeves, but decided to leave it sleeveless and hemmed the armholes to finish.
I then cut about 11 inches off the bottom and hemmed under 1/4 inch.
Show some leg, girl!
I was going to make a retro-inspired collar or cuff out of one of the side sashes, but that didn't work out. Instead, I ironed some interfacing to some of the extra fabric and made some yoyo flowers to give the dress neckline some detail. I finished those off with some funky buttons I got at my local fabric outlet, and... ta daaa!
(These were taken on my phone- my sister absconded with my camera :-P)
From size 16 down to a size 4!
The yoyo details along with my amazing button find!
I loved the detail of the tucks; it pretty much sold
me on buying it!
Total cost:
$3.23 (Dress) + $0.60 (buttons) =$3.83 :-D
Anyway, another tutorial/demo/thing! Yay! And the blogosphere rejoices.
Really though, this buttonhole maker has been ominously staring at me ever since I got it for $4 on ebay. I will admit, I was scared to death and horribly intimidated by a gadget the size of a twinkie. However, now I feel much better and decided to share my (limited) knowledge in the event that one of the 2 people who reads this needs help operating a 60 year-old vintage buttonhole maker. So, let the games begin! (If you are overly anxious and want to see it in action, there is a video of the thing running at the end of the post)
First, your Singer buttonhole maker should come with things like this:
The mechanism itself, metal cams (the buttonhole patterns), a feed plate cover, feed plate cover screw (smaller), and an ankle screw (larger). And maybe an instruction book.
First, remove your presser foot, but keep the needle threaded (trust me, it's a pain to try to thread it after the foot is on)
Next thing you want to do (aside from getting coffee if you are doing this at 10pm like me) is to screw down the feed cover plate via one of the holes on the bed of the machine. It's pretty obvious which one because the needle still has to be able to go down. This prevents the feed dogs from moving the fabric so that the buttonhole maker can move it instead.
Next is to load the desired cam into the back of the machine. First, use the white knob on the top of the machine and turn it counter clockwise until the front slot is at its most extended length. You can also just gently pull on the slot if you don't have a cam loaded already.
Pull the back bottom plate forward and up to open. Load the cam with the "divets" face down, lining up the round end with the shape on the base.
Close the back plate. You should be able to turn the top white knob and the front slot/guide should move in an elongated circular motion.
Next, bring the foot from the back of the machine and attach to the ankle. Also, make sure the "fork" on the right side of the machine goes around the needle bar.
"Fork" arm going around the needle bar
Large screw secures the foot to the ankle.
Holding your needle thread, take one stitch via the hand wheel and pull up the bobbin thread.
Next, get the fabric ready. I am using a scrap of cotton with another scrap of medium weight interfacing ironed on the back. Using chalk, I marked 3 buttonholes 1 inch apart, showing the beginning line. The hash marks are not the exact length, but rather mark the distance between each buttonhole. I didn't do the "neatest" job, but you get the idea!
Next, turn the white dial on the back of the buttonhole maker so that the needle is positioned at either the bottom middle or top middle of the buttonhole, depending on how you marked your fabric (turn the dial a few times to get an idea of how the thing moves, you'll be able to see it!) Now, properly speaking, one is supposed to start at the back of the buttonhole, but here I realized that with this gadget, it doesn't really matter as long as you have it marked.
Line up the needle with the cross-hash of your first buttonhole marking, lower the presser foot, and start sewing!
First time around, a little sparse.
2nd time around, much better! Yep, just keep sewing.
No need to reset!
Move on to the next one!
And if anyone is interested, here's a video of it in action!
...But first, a Lydia update, because I am obsessed.
Yay!!!
I have a 60 year-old roommate named Lydia. She's small, quiet, doesn't eat much, but packs quite a punch.
I heart her, big time.
I am slowly getting used to life with a vintage Singer. I have to say, I LOVE THIS MACHINE!!! :-D There is a learning curve, as with all new things, but it is well worth it! I have so far made 3 skirts on her and will finish a 4th and 5th one by tomorrow evening, I am sure.
Anyway, onto a tutorial:
Inserting Zippers With Masking Tape
Note: I hate, loathe, despise sewing zippers. Really. I can never get them looking right... until I tried this.
Step one:
Measure your zipper (bottom to top where the zipper pull ends and you see two small metal "stops" on each end)
Step two:
Pin your two pieces of fabric together as usual. Measure from the top of the garment down to the same length as your zipper. Mark this measurement (I used two straight pins)
Step three:
Sew the fabric pieces together using a normal-length stitch, starting from the bottom of the garment to the top. On my machine, this is between 8 and 12 (stitches per inch).
A stack of post-its for a seam guide
Medium stitch length
Sew up to your marking
Stop when you get to your marking and choose the longest stitch length (Mine is 6). Continue sewing to the top.
Longest stitch length
Step four:
Press the seam open.
Optional: First, cut a notch where your marking is (not through the seam, though). This is only necessary because this pattern calls for all of the seams to be pressed in one direction and topstitched, whereas the zipper seam needs to be pressed open.
Step five:
Position your zipper (closed) with the coil (face down) lined up with the seam.
Step six:
Apply masking or painter's tape across the zipper to adhere it temporarily to the garment.
Step seven:
Sew around the zipper. I don't have the zipper foot yet (had to find one online) so I just used my regular foot and positioned it right next to the coil. Yep, sew right over the tape.
Step eight:
Peel the tape away. The needle should have perforated it enough for easy removal.
And remove your basting (long) stitches to open up the zipper seam...
I recently graduated with my masters, started a new job, and have found myself for the first time in 22 years no longer in formal education. It is weird, very, very weird. To avoid thinking about how strange this is, I sew things.
50% of these things are successes, and the other 50% end up as White Elephant gifts, true story. Never the less, out of either sheer determination or sheer stupidity, I will keep sewing. (Just be on the lookout for deceptively wrapped packages around Christmas time...)
