Matching Notches

Using Directional Prints

2011-04-12T08:15:00.001-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/using-directional-or-one-way-print-fabrics

Using fabrics that have a print or design that must be matched takes a little know-how, and a lot of forethought. Have a look on BurdaStyle for my tutorial.

If it looks like trouble . . .

2011-04-05T10:54:00.000-05:00

it probably will be. The curve in between the center front and the dart marking on the paper pattern looked "off" to me. Still, this pattern is the work of someone who has no small estimation of her skills. So I cut out the skirt front and marked the darts.

Sure enough, the center front has a very noticeable "dip." If I go ahead and form the darts, that dip will be even more of a problem. (The darts aren't drafted correctly, either.) This skirt is supposed to fit smoothly into a waistband. It's never going to, and come out right.

What to do? Be very glad my fabric wasn't expensive and that I was only testing the pattern. I moved on to different project. Sometimes there is just no salvaging a lost cause. This was one of those times.

The Tack-It: A Forgotten Sewing Tool That Deserves a Revival

2011-03-30T12:04:00.001-05:00

Once nice thing about sewing (among so many!) is that your non-sewing friends like to support you by gifting you with odds and ends from their parents' or grandparents' sewing rooms. "I don't know if you can use this, but …" What a great way to show love!

I recently received an item this way. It's called the Tack-It, and while a quick Internet search revealed that many sewists out there already know about this wonderful marking tool, it's new to me. As we join our garment pieces together, we rely on marks to make sure we are sewing the correct pieces together, or setting in a sleeve in the right place in an armhole, oh, just so many times we must mark our pieces well or we'll get lost and forget what we were supposed to be doing.

Begin by cutting out all the pieces of your garment from the fabric. To use the Tack-It, first slip a double layer of dressmaker's carbon on the wrong side of your fabric. (Your paper pattern piece is still pinned on.) Then slip all the layers — paper pattern, fabric, carbon — into the Tack-It. It's shaped a bit like a stapler, don't you think? Line up the punch right over the paper pattern's markings. (I was marking some "circles" on this waistband.) Give the Tack-It a slap, as though you were stapling all these layers together.

You get pattern markings that are neat and symmetrical. This tool seems to have first been on the market in the 1950s and was manufactured under several different labels. They are widely available from eBay, and Etsy sellers, but I sure think it's time to revive the Tack-It for mass production again!

Moving a Bust Dart

2011-03-24T09:03:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/moving-a-bust-dart

Head to BurdaStyle for my post on moving a bust dart, based on instructions in Power Sewing!

Sewing Lace and Thin Fabrics — How to Begin??

2011-03-15T10:36:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/sewing-difficult-thin-stretchy-or-open-weave-fabrics

There was a time when I would have just stuck this little piece of lace in my sewing machine and sort of hoped for the best, but I recently learned a technique for sewing on open weave fabrics that is really pretty genius!

Lapped Zipper Application Without Pins

2011-03-15T09:46:00.000-05:00

Head over to BurdaStyle for my post there on setting a lapped zipper in a skirt back. I learned the technique from a Threads article written by the aforementioned Rosebud!

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/lapped-zipper-application

Bra Making!

2011-02-11T20:25:00.001-06:00

Sure, you can make a lot of your own clothing and accessories, but would you want to sew underwear? I would! I've been dying to. I'm picky about my bras and it's hard to find ones I like. I'm at the Education of the Textile Arts Dallas sewing expo, where I came for the express purpose of doing a daylong seminar in custom bra making with the fabulous Anne St. Clair, teacher and proprietor of Needle Nook Fabrics in Wichita, KS.

Here's what we started out with in our bra kits: power mesh, tricot, elastics, twill tape, hook and eye bra closures, channeling, interfacing, and a pair of premade bra straps (for our convenience). We also had pattern pieces from the bra patterns she designs herself. Ann measured each of us yesterday when we arrived at the hotel, so our patterns are tweaked personally to our bodies.

Janet, one of Anne's assistants, showed us the finer points of laying out our pattern pieces on the slippery fabric.

A rotary cutter isn't much good on tricot — the soft, spongy fabric slides up ahead of the blade and you get distorted pattern pieces. Their trick? A pair of really cheap ($2) scissors. I thought it worked smashingly well.

Power mesh, the friend of ice skating costumes everywhere. It's also in bras. You need to use it with the most stretch going around your body. How to tell which direction has the most stretch? The "eyes" of the mesh close up when you stretch it. They seem to open if you stretch it in the other direction.

Buttery soft tricot. Find its most stretchy direction by noticing if it curls to the right side of the fabric.

My cut out pieces. The purple marks are from a fabric marking pen and marking is a MUST in bra making. (They'll fade.)

Anne had us use a pin weaving technique to hold the slippery layers together before we put our work in the machine.

Anne helped all of us, all day long. I was glad she was comfortable at my Pfaff ("This is my mother's machine!" she said).

I got my bra cups joined at the cross seams, interlined lightly with fleece, lined, joined at the center seam (which is reinforced with twill tape. Next was attaching channeling to the bottom of the bra cups. It's for underwires, which I skipped.

Next, I sewed bottom elastic, center front elastic, and side elastic. The back closure was next. Then, the straps. It took all day, but the time just flew.

The completed bra. It really fits! I can't wait to try making more of them.

Like this one that has red flames printed on it, which Grace, Anne's other assistant is holding up.

Wow, what a day. There were several machine failures and plenty of operator error, but Anne was still smiling at the end of it all.

Altering Simple Patterns, Simply

2011-01-05T12:26:00.000-06:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/a-simple-way-to-enlarge-a-simple-pattern

Head to Burda Style for how we solved a fitting problem!

Of Diamonds and Track Suits

2010-11-22T09:06:00.000-06:00

Not long ago, I was having lunch in a chain restaurant in the mall (it's not as depressing as it sounds). I wasn't gussied up to the nines, but I'd brushed my hair, done my makeup, and had jewelry on. My usual public appearance.

Next to me at the bar was another shopper, and I think she was about as typical as any lady at the mall whom I could dream up. On her head was a crisp, white baseball cap. Her brown pony tail was fed through the back of it. She wore a Texas Longhorns T-shirt, running shorts, and running shoes. She had a Rolex big enough to put your eye out, and the biggest, BJ diamond ring I have ever seen in my entire life. She carried a name designer handbag. Her iPhone was glued to her ear the whole time as she picked through her salad (how nice that was for whomever she was talking to, the sound of her smacking as she blabbed).

I never can quite reconcile the incongruousness of these elements on a person's body — the exercise clothes, which have been commandeered for day wear, and accessories whose total value equals annual earnings for many other people. What gives? Where did this habit originate? My own memory is that I began to see this in about the late 70s and early 80s in Houston. Velour track suits (many with designer labels!), and diamonds. Perhaps we could blame this on New Jersey.

If the intent is to look put together, the effort has failed. If the intent is to look insouciantly casual, the effort has also failed. Why the determination to ignore what the cap, T-shirt, shorts, and shoes signify ("I've been at the track up at the high school"), and impose the status accessories ("I've been a very good girl, wink, wink") over them?

Whatever happened to the lady's luncheon clothes?!

Using Multi-Sized Patterns — Blending Sizes

2010-11-16T09:33:00.000-06:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/using-multi-sized-patterns

Dealing With Hems of Flared Skirts

2010-11-10T11:36:00.000-06:00

Believe it or not, hems sometimes represent the most trouble and work in a garment. Here's a way to deal with extra fullness in a hem when the skirt or pant leg has a flare!

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/another-hemming-technique-easing-in-fullness-from-the-hem-allowance

November Sewing With Style Meetup

2010-11-03T10:14:00.003-05:00

Kristen shows us yet another pair of well-made pants.

Susan and Angela try to figure out my method of adding a bias strip to a hemline. (And this is just a "wearable muslin" of my vintage skirt pattern!)


My Sandra Betzina skirt has a wonderful tab closure at the waist.

Angela's Lady Grey coat from Colette Patterns is underlined with hair canvas, which our friend, Jeannie, at The Common Thread sells. Not usually found much in ATX!

The Lady Grey pattern.

Joanne's making a knit top.

Susan's working on this pinafore (that's "jumper" to us Yanks) from a Burda World of Fashion magazine).

Her bodice is almost ready to be joined to the skirt.

Sewing With Rosebud in Novi, MI

2010-10-05T17:20:00.000-05:00

One of the main attractions for me at the American Sewing Expo, in Novi, MI, last month was the chance to take a daylong course entitled "Easy Blouses," taught by the force of nature known as Rosebud. I took a lot of photos of garment pieces. Good heavens, why didn't I get a better picture of her? I think it's because I found it hard to simultaneously document and participate in this highly informative, hands-on session of sewing, in which we were introduced to some of the sewing methods and practices commonly used in a garment workroom. It was an intense day with an uncommon teacher!

Rosebud, a veteran of production sewing, is an educator for Islander Sewing Systems. Our garment was the Islander "City Western Blouse," which we had to have cut, marked, and interfaced before we arrived in Novi. When I prepped my garment pieces, I noted we would be abandoning the usual 5/8" seam allowance that is the standard in typical home sewing patterns. For this project, many of our seam allowances were 3/8", others were even 1/4", and only the side seams (which were flat-felled) were 5/8'. There's no trimming and grading seams in a shop, of course, and no hot pressing or steaming anything.

Oh yeah, no pins, either, of course. Many of our practices in our sewing rooms at home just slow down a production sewist, or "operator." Think of it as the difference between someone who wrenches on his own vehicle at home, and someone who puts cars together in a factory. The process is so different, and so are the results, not to mention the motivations.

"Thumb on the bottom, fingers on top," Rosebud reminded us frequently. If there's anything an average home sewer can incorporate into her habits, it's that. Keeping your hands in this position as the machine grabs the work and pulls it in is one of the hallmarks of faster sewing, and it saves you from getting all kinds of hand problems and pains. Here's how: Hold the work just like the photo above. Sew until your fingers get close to the presser foot and you can't see what you're doing. Stop sewing for a second and re-grasp and reposition the work, and repeat the process until you've completed the seam. This is really different from putting in pieces that are pinned together and sort of "feeding" the machine with fabric — which is certainly my own tendency.

The Standoff

2010-10-01T09:06:00.000-05:00

Last week I attended some of the American Sewing Expo in Novi, MI. I had a wonderful couple days in workshops before a foot fracture prompted my early exit.

But what I'd like to ponder for a moment is, the standoff in the home sewing world these days. On the one hand, we have the grey ladies of sewing. We know them by their unstyled hair, sensible shoes, and machine-embroidered sweatshirt ("Meow," it says, right under the cat's head). As they trudge away from the sewing show, laden down with enough fabric, patterns, and sewing supplies to warrant a sherpa, I can't help wondering where all those nice things will disappear. Not into well-made, well-fitting garments for themselves, I'm pretty sure.

Contrast this against the smaller-in-number-but-loud-n-proud, D.I.Y. fashionistas. They may or may not have had a grey lady in their lives to inspire and teach them, but they gravitate toward tutorials and products that proclaim, "This ain't your grandma's sewing! [quilting][knitting][embroidery][whatever]." They may "have the patience" to learn to sew from a printed pattern, but often, not. The tattoo budget has been tapped out, leaving no funds for good fashion fabric, it seems. They sometimes lack basic skills, such as turning a hem. Learning these things would inhibit creativity, they protest.

I'm not always inclined to find a middle ground. I like to commit to a side. But in this case, I really think there's so much to be gained from each woman learning from each other. I'd like to see more grey ladies taking care of themselves and sewing things they feel great wearing. I'd like to see more fashionistas taking their craft more seriously by devoting more time to learning its basics, and forgoing the fabric from the $1.99 table. I think we can all help each other, if we can only get past our judgments. I would love to know what that feels like. As a first step, I'm not even going to post any pictures.

Copying A Favorite Garment

2010-09-14T10:07:00.000-05:00

One of the most frequent questions I hear from budding sewists is, "I have a favorite top [pants, jacket, dress]. Can I make another one just like it?"

Yes, you can. It can be pretty easy, too!

There are several methods for making a pattern from a finished garment. The method I used for copying this top is by far the easiest and requires only the tools and materials you should already have on hand in your sewing room (or corner).

You need pins with a head on them, muslin or an old, plain bedsheet, wax chalk or a soft crayon, markers, and a ruler.

I won't get into an exhaustive tutorial here, but I'll describe the process. First, lay your garment flat. Insert pins into the seams of the garment every one or two inches, leaving the head of the pin exposed and the point of the pin pushed all the way into the wrong side of the garment.

Next, lay a fairly generous piece of muslin over one section of the garment at a time. Make sure it's all nice and flat and smooth. Now it's time to go back to your preschool days. Remember when they'd give you a piece of paper and a crayon and send you outside to do a rubbing off textured surfaces? Take your wax chalk or soft crayon and do this same thing. Rub your crayon over all the little pin heads. The outline of your pattern piece will appear!

This was fairly easy, in my case. I had to make a neck yoke, a shoulder yoke, and a bodice. The front and the back of this top are mirror images of each other.

My pattern pieces. Notice that you must draw in your grainline.

After you've done a rubbing of every piece of your garment, you must add stitching lines, grainlines, and seam allowances. You've also got to decide on an order of construction. And for what it's worth, if you've never sewn pants with fly closure, or a tailored jacket, don't make these sorts of garments the first thing you ever copy.

Here's my neck band piece, stapled to some newsprint. Notice I've added my seam allowances. Once you've tested the pattern in some cheaper fabric, you'll know how successful your copying was, and where you need to make changes. Then, make a clean copy of your pattern onto some pattern tissue or pattern marker paper.

I wanted to make sure my pattern was just right before I cut into my fabric. It's hand-screened with a Peach Berserk print.

The finished result. Notice I left off the bottom band that the original garment had. I decided I didn't really need it. That happens a lot when you copy a garment. "It's perfect, oh but I want to change this about it … and that …"

Two Skirts

2010-09-10T19:07:00.000-05:00

A Really Nice Hem

2010-09-07T13:09:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/a-really-nice-hem-thats-really-invisible

Using Twill Tape

2010-08-31T16:10:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/twill-tape--2

Head over to BurdaStyle for this week's tip — using twill tape!

French Seams

2010-08-17T14:12:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/more-serger-less-seam-finishes-the-french-seam

This week's post links to BurdaStyle.

A Way To Make A Christmas Stocking With A Lining

2010-08-10T14:31:00.000-05:00

I really do love to make holiday decorations, and I do mean for all holidays! It seemed like when I was growing up, we were always making something in anticipation of a holiday. I remember quite clearly sitting at the kitchen table in July, creating tree ornaments for the coming season. It was a bit of a different world then, I guess, one that didn't recognize not everyone celebrates Christmas or has a "nuclear" family life. But judging from the proliferation of crafts and decorating projects on the Web, the urge to bring handmade things into your home hasn't died out at all.


I embroidered my girl elf on linen first, then cut out the shape of the stocking.

I sewed a cuff to my stocking front, and to a plain stocking back.

Here is the result of my retreat into that happy time — an embroidered stocking that has a lining. This project is from a 2009 issue of Better Homes and Gardens Creative Collection magazine. The pattern pieces and embroidery image were included in the magazine.

I started by embroidering my image by hand on embroidery linen. Both items are readily available in craft and fabric stores. I really love to embroider, it's a way to let go of everything.

I used some cotton duck I had on hand for my stocking back. The cuff pieces have been backed with fusible, non-woven interfacing. What a great way to use up that old interfacing, since it's not very good for apparel sewing.

I cut my lining pieces out of some nice, white cotton broadcloth.


Next, I placed a lining piece over the stocking front and stocking back, and stitched across the top of each one.

Notice I also made sure I included a loop for hanging. Yes, this is the boy elf now.

A stocking with no way to hang it up is no good! I made a loop, and enclosed it within my top seam.

The view of the front stocking piece and its lining, from the wrong side.

Here is the part that I think's really ingenius: Sew the front and the back together, like it was a pillow. Read on.

Leave an opening so you can turn the whole thing right side out.

With right sides together, I've sewn the back and the front, leaving myself an opening in the lining big enough for me to easily put my hand into. Before I turned the whole shebang right side out, however, I trimmed and clipped my seams to eliminate bulk. It really makes a big difference. I pressed my stitching well.

The turned and pressed stocking is almost done.

At this point the stocking is almost done. I closed the opening in the lining. Then, I tucked the lining inside the stocking and pressed the whole thing again.

I'm ready for Christmas already!

Why not do some Christmas decorations now? December always seems way too crazy to start then. Get ready earlier. I can't wait to hang these in my sewing room on December 1st!

Creating Flat Fell Seams

2010-08-03T08:33:00.000-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/more-serger-less-seam-finishes-the-flat-fell-seam

When You Don't Have a Serger: More Options

2010-07-27T12:49:00.001-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/more-serger-less-seam-finishes

When You Don't Have a Serger: Seam Finish #1

2010-07-20T12:44:00.001-05:00

http://www.burdastyle.com/techniques/roseana-auten-on-finishing-a-raw-edge-with-a-straight-stitch

Friday, Friday . . . So Sad It's Friday

2010-07-17T01:56:00.000-05:00

It's as predictable as the sun coming up . . . Thursday of sewing camp takes on what I call a "disco" mode, with everyone sewing a second or third project, getting fitted in another pattern, talking, comparing, laughing, and beginning to think about how much she will miss the new sewing friends she's made. Friday morning, things take on a new, silent seriousness, as the mad rush to complete projects ensures, and more sadness as the hours march by and another week with Sandra Betzina comes to a close.

Sandra told us her father said, "Entertain the people you do business with in your home," and that is why at the close of each sewing camp, she has all 10 of us (plus various friends, family, and spouses) for dinner at her exquisite loft in SOMA near AT&T Park.

Here's how the week shook out:

Diane, Burda magazine expert, shows Jenni how to find the pattern and size you want on the pattern sheet.

Catherine made a fabulous pair of pants. I was nice and didn't take a photo of her booty, even though it does look fly.

Buoyed by her success with the Anda dress, Carol worked on another project. She's learning what a sleeve pattern looks like, a bodice, a facing. It's pretty weird if you haven't done it before!

Sandra fine tunes the fit on Lyn's dress. This is a very important dress because Lyn is being honored at an event for her years of fundraising for Planned Parenthood.

Alden finished her vintage dress!

Jenni made a skirt from this wonderful Japanese linen/cotton eyeglass print she got at Piedmont. A print with cameras is underneath. Did I mention Jenni's a budding genius? Yes, I did. But I can say it again.

Sandra showed us the first dress she ever made. It was when she was in the 8th grade. Even then she had the best taste in fabric! This shirtwaist dress is in the highest quality cotton jersey.

Diane sewed one of the new patterns from Sandra's line.

I'm channeling my inner Joan Holloway.

Cat's "convertible dress." She didn't make it at sewing camp, but isn't it fabulous?

http://www.theconvertibledress.com/

Jenni's apple dress. She said she was very hungry while she was shopping for fabric.

Well, that's it for another week of sewing camp. I love my new and old friends, and the thing we share: sewing, sewing, sewing!

What Everybody's Making at Sewing Camp

2010-07-16T01:09:00.000-05:00

I didn't make this at camp, but I was showing it off at camp. It's from a 1950 design, reissued by Butterick and now long out of print again. During my two-day fitting shell death march, Sandra determined that I still need to add an inch to my bodice. The same is true for this dress. So much for my being short waisted! I've made a knit, raglan sleeve top that I think channels my inner Joan (from Mad Men) and today I've been fine-tuning and sewing another of Sandra's T-shirt patterns.

Sandra's eldest daughter, Kim, is with us at sewing camp this week. No, she doesn't sew much and had never wanted to learn until recently. She's making a faux fur vest, that lucky San Franciscan! Kim is super proud of her admirable mother.

This is Cat, Sandra's and Kim's friend who relocated to San Francisco from Portland. What a sweetie! She's copying a favorite top and making it in what she and Kim refer to as the "bad boyfriend fabric." It's a thin, hard to handle jersey that doesn't want to behave.

Jenni's embellished camo dress! She has made about six garments so far this week. This dress is for prom . . . in 2011. She has to plan ahead because she's so busy with school. She wondered aloud today if there was such a thing as sewing boarding school. If so, let me be the headmistress.

Without a doubt, today's happiest gal was Carol, who made her first garment ever this week at sewing camp. This is the Anda dress from BurdaStyle, their most-downloaded design. She chose a camo-like silk and even sewed French seams!

Vintage Vixens at Sandra Betzina's Sewing Week!

2010-07-15T01:55:00.000-05:00

I've always — and I mean always — loved the styles and silhouettes from the 1950s and 1960s. And when I was but a lass in the 80s, discarded clothing from those eras was still plentiful and mostly cheap to get in vintage stores, thrift stores, and yard sales. How I miss Purple Heart, Mr. Peabody's, and Flashback, in Houston, Dressed to Kill in Austin, Garage in Berlin, Alice Underground in New York. All gone now.

At some point, I acquired a vintage pattern at Flashback. It was for a full slip and printed in the early 1950s (I still have it). I made a slip out of electric blue pima cotton and wore it under a black voile Nelly Don dress. Then about 1988, someone gave me a pattern for a mini-dress from about 1967 and I made it out of purple and green polkadot print cotton. I found a bunch of old patterns at Family Thrift in Austin around that same time. Then, I bought a bunch more at an estate sale from two, never-married sisters on Dancy Street (as well as an armload of 1950s dresses).

I'm not sure what happened after that. I think something called eBay came on the scene, and even in its early days, you could pick up a lot of old patterns for less than a dollar each. I have a lot of vintage patterns now. They're not all amazing designs, but I love them just the same. Used to be, I got a lot of funny looks when I said I collected old sewing patterns. Not anymore!

This year at sewing camp with Sandra Betzina, I've got even more company than usual in Vintageland.

This is Lyn, and she's saying, "Oh, I'm only folding my lining!" She's one of my best buds from sewing camp over the years and a veteran of the Betzina week. She loves 1940s silhouettes best, but is making an Eva Dress pattern that's reprinted from a Claire McCardell design. Lyn has that fantastic gift of knowing exactly what looks good on her, and stays with it. Her dress, intended for a big event in the fall, will be made out of her beloved blue, and I know it's gonna be smashing as always.

This is Catherine, and she's making a 1960s sheath. Look how happy she is, and I would be, too, if I could make a dress straight out of the envelope! Catherine's learning fast how to take a flat pattern fantasy and turn it into three-dimensional fabulousness.

Here's Jenni. She's in high school. Before this class, she made a dress out of playing cards, another out of newspaper sheets, and an outfit out of Duck Brand duct tape. Jennie's Project Runway material all the way. She sews at lightning speed. She made a formal Vogue dress out of camo print twill (whereas most of us would have picked a boring satin-weave something or other) and plans to embellish it with faux jewels. Here she's working on a polka-dot dress that will have a chenilled bodice. Jenni told me that her favorite silhouette for women is the 1950s.

To Lyn's and Sandra's left, Alden of BurdaStyle is busy tracing off a new copy of her vintage Advance pattern, which she told me was rescued from the trash somewhere in Brooklyn. She, too, is an unapologetic lover of straight up vintage styles.
She bought these great buttons from "the button lady," who comes every sewing camp and sells us unique buttons of every description. While she and fellow BurdaStyle co-worker Carol were out today on company business, I snapped this photo of her pattern and buttons.

In previous years, most of of my fellow students have been interested in everything from tailoring to jeans, but never vintage patterns, so it's been good fun to meet these shirtwaisted sisters from another mother this year!

My San Francisco Week With Sandra Betzina

2010-07-13T16:05:00.000-05:00

The single most inspiring person I have met in years is Sandra Betzina. Based in San Francisco, Sandra writes books, produces instructional videos and television shows, publishes her own line of sewing patterns through Vogue Patterns, gives lectures, and teaches hands-on workshops in garment fitting and construction. I had happily limped along on junior high, home-ec style sewing skills for many years and seemed to be able to fool people that I knew how to sew. But after I started attending Sandra's workshops and using her books and videos, my knowledge of and ability in this craft grew exponentially.

Sandra inspires me not only to be a better sewist, but a better woman. There are no "fat pants" days in Sandra's life, and being with her reminds me that I shouldn't have any, either. Like other strong, independent, secure, happy, and confident women I know, Sandra believes that how you deal with your appearance has everything to do with how you feel on the inside, too. One of the most obvious outward signs of this inward grace is, of course, clothing. Clothes have great significance in the lives of some of us; others, not so much. For garment sewists like me, well-fitting, original, beautiful clothes are the goal, but the making runs a close second in importance. A willingness to embrace the process of fitting and sewing garments goes hand-in-hand with your final product. Luckily, we have Sandra to help us along the way, whether we learn with her in the virtual world or in real life.

This is my fifth return to Sandra's San Francisco Sewing Week — and I'm far from the exception. Sandra's husband, Dan Webster, likes to joke that Sandra's students probably never learn anything, or else why would they keep returning? For me, it's the chance to renew the great friendships I've made through this experience and to keep learning more about about the thing I love so much in my favorite city in the world. All right, it's also the best fabric shopping, too.

The week always begins with Sandra's trunk show, where she shows us all her latest garments made from her patterns. She tells us about the fabrics she's discovered lately, what she likes about them (or doesn't like) and shows us tricks and tips she's developed along the way for better construction or more interesting finishes and embellishments — things you will never find in pattern instructions. (All of her best ideas will be finally be collected in her upcoming book, Power Sewing Toolbox, due for release this fall.) I'm always struck by the possibilities she introduces, like this one above. Instead of closing skirt darts in the conventional way, stitch some hook and eye tape on the lines of the dart legs on the public side of the garment! I'm totally doing this on my next straight skirt.

Next, everyone in the class gets new, accurate body measurements and discusses what she hopes to achieve in the class for the week. For me, it's to get a personal fitting shell done and refine the fit on one of Sandra's T-shirt patterns. Even I, stubborn donkey of the sewing room, am feeling weary of making a muslin every single time I sew a garment. I'm hoping a fitting shell, which is a muslin bodice, sleeve, and skirt fitted to my body's own unique contours, then converted back to a flat pattern, will help speed the process of pattern alterations.

Project of the Month: Japanese "Sewing Lesson" blouse

2010-07-06T18:00:00.000-05:00

Once you learn what there is to sew and do beyond the Big Four pattern companies, it becomes irresistable! This top comes from a Japanese pattern book called Sewing Lesson. You can make this design as a blouse or a shirtwaist dress. It has a cut-on sleeve, so it's a snap to sew and doesn't take much fabric. As with most non-U.S.-produced patterns, you have to trace this off yourself and add seam allowances. And with Japanese patterns, yes, you must un-petite them, and grade them up, and try a muslin before you get into your fashion fabric. It seems to me that Japanese patterns would be well-proportioned for a young teen or older tween (as long as she likes the design).

You know how ladies' shirt patterns are published with a layout for buttonholes? Sometimes, the pattern will even say something like, "six, 5/8" buttons required."

Ignore that. Don't mark any buttonholes until you find the buttons you want to use. Use whatever size fits the garment and fabric. Maybe you can only find five you love, or you have seven or eight small ones. Use the ones you want. In my case, I recycled shell buttons from a 60-year-old blouse.

Try on the blouse and pin it closed. Find the spot where the garment hits your bust and mark it. Then make another mark where you want the blouse to button at the top. The distance between these two is the basis for your buttonhole spacing. This is a much better way to determine your buttonhole layout. I guarantee you won't have peek-a-boo at your bra if you do it this way!

Case Study: Pressing Seams Open

2010-06-29T08:43:00.000-05:00

Those of us who learned to sew by following pattern instructions find we have some gaps in our knowledge down the road. A case in point: pressing seams open.

The Big Four pattern companies sometimes mention this crucial step in construction in the glossary section of the instructions, but more often, it's just the last, short sentence in a sequence of steps. "Stitch side seam. Press seam open." If you're lucky, they've provided an illustration of the wrong side of the garment and the tip of an iron is magically parting the two little seam allowances open and pressing them flat. So for years, that's what I did — I just turned my garment wrong side up on the ironing board, slid the tip of my iron into the seam allowances and ironed away.

But I've learned a couple of other important things about pressing seams since then. The first is, press that newly-stitched seam with the raw edges still meeting and "meld" the stitches into the fabric. Let it cool briefly. Then, press the seam open. The difference may be subtle, but I've found it really helps keep your work neater and more "professional-looking."

All right, that's simple enough. But what about when you're dealing with seams that are hard to get to, as in this baby blanket I'm making? Essentially, it's like a big pillow case. I've sewn all four seams (leaving an opening into which I stick my hand and turn it right side out, of course). I can't really pull it over my ironing board for pressing the seams open. The solution? Press one of the seam allowances like so:

And then turn the work over and press the other one:

When you turn your blanket (or pillow case) right side out, you'll have a much crisper and sharper seam.

This technique is also really useful on curved seams, such as round collars or circular pillow covers.

One-Thread Sewing On Delicate Fabrics: Part Two

2010-06-22T15:39:00.000-05:00

When you work with very delicate fabrics, such as silk chiffon, you'll need a few special methods of sewing your fabric to get the best results. Last week I showed you how to thread your machine "backwards" using a drawn-out length of bobbin thread. It's just wonderful for sewing a dart in your sheer fabrics. Here's how to finish the job.

I'm using China silk, or silk habutai, in these photos. I lined my garment with this fabric. The chiffon print I used for the shell just didn't show up that well in photography.

Normally with dart sewing, you start at the widest part of the dart and sew toward the tip, or apex. But with this method of dart sewing, start at the apex instead. My thread is pretty taut. There's only enough slack in it for me to get a very little bit of the fabric — about two threads wide! — under the presser foot. It takes a little bit of fiddling around. (Remember, your bobbin and top threads are one.)

Now, notice two things. One, I've got my stitching line marked very thoroughly. Two, I've got my needle swung over to the left, as far as it will go. (It is such a handy thing to have a sewing machine that has an adjustable needle position.) This keeps those greedy feed dogs from grabbing my delicate fabric and pulling a chunk of it down, down, into my bobbin shuttle and jamming up the machine.

Here's what that looks like. No, the machine was not threaded for one-thread sewing when I took this. I just wanted you to see how my needle is in the left position. If you don't have a presser foot that has a single, tiny hole in it, nor a throat plate with a small hole, you'll have to move your needle over to the left to sew filmy, delicate fabrics. Otherwise, you'll run into trouble with the feed dogs grabbing the fabric and pulling it down into the machine.

Begin sewing your dart now, and don't backstitch. Use a shorter stitch length, such as 2.0. When you get to the end of the dart legs, stop sewing without backstitching and remove your work from the machine, leaving some long thread tails. Tie these tails off in a knot to secure the stitching. That's all there is to it! To sew the next dart in your garment, you must re-thread the machine each time.

This is a bit of an advanced technique that requires a little thought. You will, of course, have practiced sewing on some scrap fabric first. Don't use your actual project to experiment. Get out your sales receipt and remind yourself of how much you spent on your fabric. If that doesn't get you in the mood to practice this technique before marching headlong into the real thing, I don't know what will!

One-Thread Sewing On Delicate Fabrics: Threading the Machine

2010-06-15T08:17:00.000-05:00

At some point in your sewing career, you'll want to leave your comfort zone of sewing stable cottons and instead, try making a garment from (drum roll) silk chiffon. Why not? All the other sewists are doing it! And one of the first steps in construction you'll have to face is sewing darts in this temperamental fabric. I learned this technique of making darts by pulling up a long length of the bobbin thread and threading your machine in reverse, sometimes called "one-thread sewing," from the late, incomparable Shannon Gifford.

Step One: Unthread your machine (if is threaded) and pull up a good 18" of thread out of the bobbin. Then thread the machine needle from the rear. That's right, instead of poking the thread end into the eye from the front, poke it through from the back.

Step Two: Draw the thread upward toward the uptake lever.

Step Three: Draw the thread over the uptake lever, right to left. Remember, we are threading the machine "backwards." (Confession time: I took these photos as much to remind myself how to prepare for this unusual technique as I did so I could teach you how to do it!)

Step Four: Draw the thread down through the tension disc.

And up again. You will still have a good length of thread left.

Step Five: Draw out the length of thread from left to right.

And lay it across the top of your machine, allowing the thread to dangle off the edge. You're ready to sew your dart now.

Recycled Fashions: A Force To Be Reckoned With

2010-06-08T13:10:00.000-05:00

A sewing and fashion trend that's hot these days is the recycling (upcycling?) of old clothing into new garments by altering, cutting, splitting, embellishing, and repurposing. It makes perfect sense. Quality fashion fabric is hard for us home sewers to find. Why not scavenge it from discarded clothes? It also fits into our enhanced sensibility about conservation and ecology. I went to a science museum in Toronto a couple years ago and saw an exhibit that debunked the old "it all rots in the landfill" wisdom. Among the still-perfectly-good items that had been excavated and put on display was a pair of Wrangler jeans. They had been underground for 35 years!

Still, I'm having some trouble looking at this trend as an avenue for my own creativity. Here's an old calico "housedress" that's been in my closet for about 20 years. I bought it at a garage sale. It's easy to tell someone sewed it at home about 50+ years ago. I've worn it, and worn it, and even had compliments on it. But I've always felt it needed help, somehow. But what to do? And is it really worth it? As a home sewer who works with patterns published for the home sewing market, this recycling project has me stumped.

I'm Berserk for Peach Berserk

2010-06-07T18:11:00.000-05:00

I've not often wished I were someone else, but if I had a chance to slip into another person's skin, I would choose to inhabit the amazing, fabulous, and exuberant Kingi Carpenter, proprietess of the Toronto boutique, Peach Berserk. She is my hero!

Kingi, a former art student, sells one-of-a-kind and custom fashions made on the premises from silks and cottons she has screenprinted by hand with her own original, crazy, and delightful designs. She always says she got her inspiration for Peach Berserk when she visited Paris and looked everywhere for a dress that had Eiffel Towers printed on it. No Eiffel Tower dress was in evidence anywhere. Kingi thought that was just a shame and went home to Toronto and made her own fabric, "so no girl would have to go without Eiffel Towers on her dress again!"

From there, she used all sorts of other imagery — everything from flowers, to kitchen implements, to David Bowie — for her 100+ silkscreen designs, and more keep coming every year. Each and every one is sold in any color fabric and ink the customer chooses, and you're encouraged to mix and match freely, even on the same garment. For those who are decision-impaired and in a hurry, a selection of clothing off the rack is available. Peach Berserk is the go-to spot in Ontario for "out-there" prom dresses, and even does a great wedding clothes business as well.

I'm a fan of "outsider" fashion, and yeah, I love the reinterpreted Bettie Page look that's so popular among the roller girl/rockabilly crowd. But I love Kingi's unapologetic celebration of femininity in her clothing. There is no hard-edged irony or parody in her silhouettes. She even has a print called "I Enjoy Being A Girl." I love that she loves color and can't live without it. I love that she teaches others the fun art of silkscreening in monthly workshops right in the shop. I try to bring a little of her spirit to my own life and sewing, but don't quite make it. Speaking of which, I want to decide what to do with my own Eiffel Tower fabric!

Meh Fabrics

2010-05-25T16:45:00.000-05:00

It's great that Project Runway seems to have ignited new interest in both fashion design and home sewing. But even as this interest rises, the stuff we need to make it happen — quality fashion fabric — is getting impossible to find unless you travel to large cities to hunt for it.

So, as every PR viewer knows, Mood Fabrics in New York is where the designers shop for all their fabric and notions on the show. You can even buy a T-shirt with the words, "Thank you, Mood," (puts the soothing sound of Tim Gunn's voice right in your head, doesn't it?). On TV, the place seems massive, daunting, and chock-a-block with textile treasures — so unlike the seedy chain stores the majority of American sewists must shop. We see the contestants hop excitedly around the store's three floors, scouring the ceiling-high shelves for the fabric in which they've imagined their design. How we would like to go there someday ourselves!

But I was a little disappointed. You know how the PR designers will softly lament, "I couldn't find what I was looking for"? And we, the viewers think, "Why not? The place is jammed!" Well, the fact that the place is jammed is what makes it impossible to find things! If indeed, the desired item is there at all.

There is actually a view into the street from Mood. It isn't quite as windowless and claustrophobic as it looks on TV.

The Mood staff is efficient, jokey, and a little gruff. Perhaps this is the point, to shoo away tourists. Oh, but they are there, anyway! Retirees in Teva sandals and shorts, I kid you not, moms and kids, and all manner of looky loos who don't sew at all, and as they aver, aren't about to start. Do they really think they're going to see Tim Gunn lounging around in there and just chat him up?

Me, I was looking for striped cotton jersey, black and white, or black and grey. Three-quarter to one inch wide stripes. I was looking for cotton or cotton blend fleece (lightweight), and medium-scale cotton prints. No luck. I came back the next day, however, in a better mood for Mood and found the place less filled with rubberneckers, which put the Mood staff in a better mood, too.

Project of the Month: BurdaStyle Magazine Feb. 2010, #103 skirt

2010-05-18T07:34:00.000-05:00

George Carlin liked "military intelligence." For me, there was no better oxymoron than "German fashion." But I'm beginning to change my mind with every issue of BurdaStyle Magazine (formerly called Burda World of Fashion) I get. February's issue had a feature on "Fifties Flair," so of course I was interested right away. If you're not familiar, Burda is a German pattern company that publishes patterns much like our Big Four do here in the U.S., and they also publish a monthly magazine. The magazine contains fashion spreads and printed pattern sheets of the clothes featured. Many patterns are also available for download on BurdaStyle.com.

Unlike the Burda patterns available in the fabric stores, which are printed on tissue, you must trace a copy of the Burda magazine patterns yourself — and remember to add seam allowances. It takes all your concentration and spatial reasoning skills to find all the lines on the printed paper to correctly trace your pattern pieces. What's more, the instructions are written in a fairly shorthanded manner, and there are no illustrations. These factors make Burda magazine projects not for beginners, in my opinion.

So, among the things in the Fifties Flair feature that caught my eye was a half-circle skirt with some very intriguing front soft pleats that are asymmetrically placed, and two back pleats. When I finally pieced my pattern together, I found I had two quite unusual shapes. The front piece has a grainline that you can place on the straight of grain of your fabric if you're making the long version of the skirt, and a bias grain if you're making the short version.

The back piece is also cut on the bias. This skirt has side seam pockets and an invisible zipper closure. It was pretty interesting figuring out how to manage that — I can't wait to try it again.

My results? Hard to say. That front pleating I found so enticing in the magazine picture isn't wanting to behave very well in the lightweight denim I chose. (I may end up stitching this pleat down about 5 inches from the waistband. I've got a pin there at the moment.) I think this skirt would be really fab in a cotton voile, which the magazine suggests, or in a "drippier" fabric like a rayon faille, a 4-ply silk, or a stable knit. At any rate, I've long been wanting to replace my "bad" denim skirt I wear all summer with something a little more unexpected.

Sewing An Invisible Zipper Into An Opening With Intersecting Seams

2010-05-11T12:59:00.000-05:00

You'll come to a crossroads whenever you're installing a zipper into a dress that has a bodice joined to a skirt, or even just a skirt that has a wide, yoke waistband. You've got the vertical zipper seam to deal with, and then you've got two, horizontal seams that match, right? Those are called intersecting seams. I think of it as the "Four Corners" dilemma in sewing. (You know, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona?) Sew that zipper in even a little bit wrong, and the seams won't intersect nicely, and you'll have a garment that whimpers, "Someone made this." Eww.

I was sewing this dress from Go Patterns on my annual trip to the San Francisco Sewing Experience with Sandra Betzina in 2008 when she taught me the trick to getting great results when you're at this Four Corners crossroads. To do it, you'll need a couple of inexpensive and readily available tools: Wonder Tape, wax chalk, and a quality invisible zipper foot. And there's no pinning and basting involved!

I follow Sandra's directions in her book, Power Sewing Step by Step, for invisible zipper sewing in general. The first thing is, open the zipper, place it face down on your ironing surface, and with the tip of your iron, press those coils open and flat. (Take care with the heat, now, because you'll never melt the coils of your zipper at a time when it's convenient for you to head back to the fabric store for another one.) I like to use my point presser/clapper to hold the whole thing flat while it's cooling off, but you can use anything that's long and flat and slightly heavy to do the same thing, such as a clean and splinter-free piece of 2 x 4.

Have you ever reinforced the seam allowances of your zipper opening with narrow strips of fusible interfacing? I wish someone had told me this years ago. It really makes those seam allowances behave.

Next, finger press the seam allowance (very likely you're using 5/8") on one side of the zipper opening. That just means to use your finger or fingernail to crease a fold in the fabric — not your iron. The reason? This fold is only temporary. We don't want it pressed in with heat.

Then, get your wonderful Wonder Tape and reel off a length of it that's as long as your zipper. (Wonder Tape's double-sided and sticky, but the adhesive will launder out.) Apply the Wonder Tape to your seam allowance.

Peel the release paper from the tape, leaving behind a nice little strip of sticky stuff. Next step is to place one side of the zipper on this line of sticky stuff, and it requires a moment of your total concentration. Ready?

Make sure the top stop of the zipper is indeed at the top of the zipper opening. (Zippers that are installed upside down aren't so handy.) Make absolutely sure your coils or "teeth"of the zipper match up evenly to your finger-pressed fold of your seam allowance. (If you get the coils a little too far away from the fold, or a little too far over the fold, your invisible zipper won't look so invisible.) Your zipper is, at this point, securely (and temporarily) attached to the seam allowance. No pins are necessary! Unfold your finger-pressed zipper seam allowance and lay it out flat. You will have just the one layer of your garment fabric on bottom, and the Wonder Taped-on zipper on top.

Now, go to your machine and stitch all the way down the length of the zipper tape. You will need to use the best quality invisible zipper foot you can find for this. A lot of newer machines come with them now, or they're easily ordered online. For successful invisible zipper sewing, you must stitch very close to the coils, and the invisible zipper foot is what allows you to do that. (Sew too close and you won't be able to even close the zipper —ask me how I know. Too far, and and you will have seam allowances that gap and expose your "invisible" zipper.)

Still with me? Remove your work from the machine. Close the zipper now, and lay your garment flat. Find the horizontal seam — in this case, I'll call it the Utah/Arizona border. Using your wax chalk, make a mark right on your zipper that lines up exactly with the line between Utah and Arizona. I like wax chalk because it doesn't brush away very easily, and no one will ever see this mark.

It's time for the other side of the zipper. Make a finger-pressed fold on the remaining zipper seam allowance, just like you did on the first seam allowance. Apply Wonder Tape to the seam allowance, yes, just like you did the first time. Peel off the release paper from the Wonder Tape and expose a line of sticky stuff. Now, open your zipper. Find your little mark you made on the zipper when you were at the Utah/Arizona border. Carefully line up this mark to the opposite horizontal seam — the Colorado/New Mexico border, if you will. Now you can finish sticking down the zipper to the seam allowance, taking care to match the coils perfectly on your finger-pressed fold, the way you did the first time. Unfold your finger-pressed seam allowance and lay the work flat.

Okay, this might the time you pin the zipper tape to the garment fabric. But you really only need to pin right at the horizontal seam, to ensure that your chalk mark stays precisely where you want it — on the Colorado/New Mexico border. Sandra recommends cross pinning, or putting two pins in an "X" formation for this.

Return to your machine and sew the remaining side of your zipper to the seam allowance. You're going to be so excited when you look at what you've done — Four Corners!

Finish closing the garment seam allowances as you usually do when you sew an invisible zipper.

Remodeling a T-Shirt

2009-07-18T10:24:00.000-05:00

T-shirts really are our go-to garments, aren't they?

Some of us end up with more of them than others. We have passion for something — likes sports or a rock band — and think, "I must have that T-shirt!"

Or, we get a lot of them for free.

There are many books and blog tutorials out there about how to transform your T-shirt into a new garment or accessory, by cutting, tying, or embellishing. I'm not adding to that, but I am showing a way to fit a T-shirt that's too big.

Here's my shirt, an American Apparel man's shirt in medium. The manufacturer uses the softest cotton jersey anywhere and it's very nice to wear and work with. I would have been better off buying a larger shirt, but this fabric is a lot more giving than other shirt fabrics, so it's okay.

Lay shirt as smooth and flat as possible on your work surface. Don't cut it yet! You need to see if you have enough fabric in all the places you need it.

Use an old, favorite T-shirt (in this case, a totally pitted-out shirt from a low-priced chain) as your pattern. Cut the sleeves off your old shirt. Cut the old shirt open on the sides. Leave the shoulder seams sewn, though, and align them with the already-sewn seams on your new shirt.

Take a look at what's going on here: My old, ladies' shirt is wider at the chest than the man's shirt. We need the room in that part of our bodies, while men need width at the upper chest and shoulders. That's just one reason why a man's T-shirt looks so terrible on a woman.

Okay, but I was safe, anyway. I cut my new front (and back) pieces with a wedge of sleeve in them. It's kind of an unplanned gusset in the sleeve!

Now, and only now, you can take the sleeves off your new shirt, and cut open the side seams (in lots of cases there will not be any seams on the sides — many shirts are sewn from tubular knits). Cut your armholes, and your sides, using your old shirt as your pattern. They will invariably be very different from the man's shirt. Use the sleeves from your old, gross shirt as a pattern for your new sleeves.

In this case, I decided not to give myself the extra work of hemming the sleeves, so I left the hemmed sleeves from my Destroyer T-shirt just as they were, instead of cutting them into the cap style that my old shirt had. What I really wanted to use was the sleeve cap curve, and the armhole curve.

Serge the sleeves into the armholes. Then, join the side seams of the body and the side seams of the sleeves in one, fluid seam.

My new shirt was originally a little longer than my old shirt, so I cut some off and hemmed it at a length that was right for me.

The final result.

This is a quick project because I didn't take the factory-sewn shoulder seams apart (those are very good, you can't do as well at home yourself on those). And I didn't take the neck band off (although I may change that because it's a little high for me). And I used the original sleeve hems.

All I did was set in the sleeves, join the new side seams, and re-hem the bottom, and I was ready for SXSW week (which is the time I usually wear something like this).

Now, will this work for all your T-shirts? Not always. It will not work when:

your new T-shirt is not large enough

your new T-shirt is made of a fabric that has much less give than the fabric of your old, favorite-but-not-wearable shirt

I discovered this when I remade a SXSW volunteer shirt in the very same manner I have just described here. The fabric in that shirt, a "Beefy T," is a more stable knit (and less comfortable) than the knit fabric American Apparel uses. So, when I was done, it fit me, sort of, but had far less wearing ease than I like.

It pays to spend a little time learning more about knits, and why your projects will turn out a bit contrary to expectation sometimes. I took "Understanding Knit Fabrics" with Sarah Veblen online on PatternReview.com, and it helped a lot.

The Tourist Fabric

2009-07-10T09:06:00.000-05:00

Seen this printed, cotton voile fabric? I think every sewist has, now. I got it, oh, I'll say 4 years ago at B & J. But since them I've seen it sewn up into an oversized, unisex-looking shirt (replete with beads and sequin trim, no less). And I saw it on a bolt in Mill End Fabrics in Oregon. Must be a giant overrun for some designer.

My plan all along has been to make it into this Neue Mode dress and put that garment into the summer rotation. My first attempt at this pattern I'll call a semi-success. It was my first go-round with silk chiffon, and it was way fun (not).

Looking at these two fabrics and seeing how similar they are in color and tone, and now I'm using the same pattern for both of them … oh, what am I thinking??

Gump Dress Project 1.0

2009-07-06T12:07:00.000-05:00

So, the Gump dress has been separated and I'm playing with its skirt. I removed the left, side seam pocket (oh, it was set in so lovely, it almost hurt to remove it) and put in an invisible zipper, following the method Sandra Betzina describes in her book, Power Sewing Step-by-Step. The hardest thing about the invisible zipper for me is staying organized long enough to get through it.

Remember how I thought I didn't have a nice, long piece of fabric on the grain? Right, except for the lovely, interfaced front plackets! I have basted the placket that has the buttonholes in it to the skirt, using it for a waistband. This skirt fits me, without shame, at my waist.

Overall, this project could be just okay, not great. I still think this fabric is so pretty, but I'm not sure I love the garment. A little eyelet trim at the hem would perk it up, but are we veering into Hee Haw territory again, maybe? (As with my black-and-white gingham Decades of Style dress last year?) The thing is, I would see something like this on the body of a hipster waif, but she would have just the right accessories for it. What would those accessories be???

Thinking.

Vintage Garment Case Study #1: Brown & Black Gingham

2009-07-01T08:45:00.000-05:00

I often find myself in almost a no-man's land when it comes to my love of the clothes of the 1950s and 1960s. Women older than I am often share no such fondness, and women younger than I am often just don't get it — the reference means nothing to them.

But since I was a tot, I have been a fan of the post-war shirtwaist style. This dress, which I may have acquired about 8 or 9 years ago in a New Year's Eve buying frenzy at the Citywide Garage Sale, typifies many construction details I love and that would never be used in a factory today.
The first thing you notice is the bias-cut front button placket, applied to the center front (as opposed to being enclosed in a fold in the front facing, which would be a much more labor-saving method). Look, the button holes are worked on a diagonal!! You could try this on one of your own garments, and use covered buttons, too, like this dress. You could even get the buttons professionally done for a smart look.

As with the Gump Dress, the waist seam is stablized with tape, in this case, rayon seam binding. Clothing was expensive when this dress was made. Clothing was supposed to last.

I think this fabric may be a cotton blend, judging from the absence of bad wrinkles, but I wouldn't know for sure unless I did a burn test. It has a marvelous fit (which would be better if I laid off the blue cheese). There's something on the collar, however (hellooo, applique?) and the left sleeve is faded from closet or shop wear (helloo, cardigan?). This dress used to have a belt, probably a self-fabric belt, but it's long gone now.

Another detail is the snap-in sleeve heads, secured with twill tape, and removable for washing the dress.Too bad there's only one left.

The front skirt has four waist pleats and is joined to a typical two-dart bodice; the back has three gores and is joined to a back bodice that has two small waist pleats handling the dart control. The fact that the back and front are not just cookie cutter, mirror images of each other is another great style choice that would not be repeated in an everyday garment today. It felt wonderful when I put this dress on.

The label inside the back facing reads, "Atlas of Houston," which I think probably was the boutique the dress came from.

Gump Dress Revisited and Ready for Remake

2009-06-30T20:35:00.001-05:00

An ever-growing part of my fabric stash is fabric that is pre-formed or pre-used — in other words, garments, old sheets, and barkcloth drapery panels. I first mentioned this dress right after I found it in a Palm Springs thrift shop and today I returned to it to see what it had to say to me. I still found the fabric beautiful and I tried the dress on again. There are two big problems about the fit of this garment:

1. The dart control is all rotated into gathers in front at both the bodice and the waist, and in back it's in an inverted pleat that's tacked shut in two places. This makes the fit very loose; in fact, it's baggy.

2. The generous wearing ease is not a welcome feature, especially in this fabric, which is a high quality cotton poplin. I find this fabric fine for bottom weight, but terrible for a blouse. It's got too much body and feels (and looks) tent-like. In the current weather I'm enduring, it traps a lot of heat. Noooo. We want the opposite effect from our clothes.

There are a lot of great "couture" construction details, however. The label says it's from Gump's San Francisco, but it was made in Thailand (maybe a custom job??). It just looks like it was expensive. The care label says the fabric is hand screened and calls for washing by hand in "pure soap flakes." I've mentioned the ball buttons before, but there is also a wonderful, delicate loop by which you could hang the dress on a hook, if you needed to.

The bodice is joined to the skirt in two ways: in a 1/2"-5/8" seam reinforced by narrow twill tape, and then the two raw edges are enclosed in a Hong Kong seam finish. Try finding that in a dress today, even if by a schmancy designer in a schmancy boutique.

I tell you, this seam isn't going anywhere, and I know because I'm trying to take it apart. Even with my Cadillac seam ripper, it's slow going. I may give up and simply cut the skirt off the bodice instead. My plan is to use everything on the bottom half for a skirt and set the bodice aside to use for another project. One thing that won't be in my favor is, I will not have a nice, long piece of this fabric that runs on the grainline to use as a waistband. I will either have to do petersham-faced waistband, or find something else to use and gather the skirt into it.

I think a green, light blue, pink, or white top would be pretty with this. This will be my first foray into repurposing a garment.

Sold

2008-07-17T19:41:00.001-05:00

Here are some samples of the small, evening purses and skirts I've made and sold at a local boutique here in town.

One Dress, Two Ways

2008-07-06T15:28:00.001-05:00

Decades of Style, #4002, 1944 Housedress. I really appreciate what this one-woman company out of Berkeley is doing for vintage sewing. She selects what she feels are the most unusual patterns in her stash, the ones with the most interesting style.

After fitting my muslin, I sewed this first one in turquoise cotton eyelet "by the book." The fitting posed an interesting problem: I shortened the front and back armholes pretty significantly to make the bodice fit better. So I was expecting to have to make the sleeve cap smaller as well, to fit the new, smaller armscye. (I prefer this spelling to "armseye.") But the sleeve fit my new opening pretty well with no alteration. This means that the sleeve as printed is smaller than the armscye. (Kind of a problem!)

I don't care for the sleeve hem finish the pattern calls for: you turn up the edge 1" and handstitch in place. They are also too fluttery for me. The front band application is a little tricky. You need to watch your seam finishes when you make this garment.

The patch pockets look like handkerchiefs — cute. But these points don't like to stay up on their own, and the pattern instructions didn't call for interfacing the hem facing, which you definitely need if you want them to not flop over. I would add stay tape as well if I made this again. The suggested closure is metal snaps, which is really pretty neat. There are 8 on my dress, and they almost match my fabric, plus the conventional one at the top that's hidden by the rick rack band. You need interfacing in the front placket but the pattern instructions don't mention that.

I was going to make the dress the same way again, but I couldn't help myself and I changed the pattern. I narrowed the sleeve openings at the hem and added a hem facing, which gave me more of the results I wanted. I skipped the outside neck band and drafted a neck facing instead, which I joined to the front placket facing. I applied the rick rack at the seam lines instead. (Love those little points sticking out of the seam!) I put in side seam pockets instead of the patch pockets. The top seemed plain, so I made a bow. How-dee!

Good accessories are essential to these garments.

Sweater Embellishments

2008-01-28T09:38:00.001-06:00

No. The ruffle so close to my neck makes me look clownish. If the neckline were dropped a bit, maybe.

Been playing with pieces of lace. Hm. It's not so great.

Added these needlepoint roses that I picked up at a estate sales somewhere. Maybe. Still not great.

Take off the lace and just keep the roses? Plain but effective. Still, it needs something.

Embellishments continue to be a challenge for me. Adding to sweaters is not coming naturally.

Score in Palm Springs

2008-01-01T22:04:00.000-06:00

The days of winter houses filled with gently used 50s, 60s, and 70s furniture, with vulture dealers circling around them like they were roadkill, is about over in Palm Springs. Now the trend-conscious must move on to new “old” furniture, which is quite abundant here — not that that’s a put-down. It’s just that unlike many of these lemming-like LA ninnies, I actually have always liked that stuff. I just never knew where to find it, until everyone else found it out, too.

Last year we — I — had a high old time scouring the thrift stores here in Palm Springs, and came home with many good finds: 70s sewing patterns, funky fun LPs that I snagged for the cover art and verbose liner notes, several 70s bedsheets and other linens, and a great wool granny square throw (which now lives on Christiane’s bed).

This year, few funky bedsheets were in evidence anywhere, a possible consequence of the crafter movement. Grr. No sewing patterns — the Sally where I scored those last year is now a Revivals, another thrift store chain here that benefits AIDS issues in the Coachella Valley. The fun “antique mall” that was next door to it is closed (I got some stylish earrings there last year, still need to get them converted to posts).

We all had good luck at the Angel View Thrift Mart (another area chain) in Palm Desert. I got a stack of LPs (man, people around here really seemed to love Montevani and Spanish music) and some linens. Same with the one next door to it (Southwestern something). Luck began to dwindle after that, though.

We renewed our search today (spouse looking for bargain sportcoats, child looking for toys and books) after a fantastic breakfast at Louise’s Pantry in Indian Wells. Heading back toward Palm Springs, we hit St. Margaret’s Cellar, where I got a cute, gold-striped tea set made of stoneware (I think). No stamp, nothing, it’s not collectible, just adorable.

Next stop was a store that benefits the Eisenhower Medical Center and that yielded the big finds of the day. Prices were not a bargain level, but the clothing was half off. Is the repurposing craze possessing me? To wit:

A trés 70s formal gown. Floral print chiffon, surplice bodice, long sleeves gathered into cuffs that have a hook and thread bar closure. I think it’s silk, won’t know until I do a burn test. Looks like the work of a skilled dressmaker. I bet a Betty Ford-like California lady went to dinner in this, or maybe a wedding. Or appeared on Lawrence Welk. What to do with this funky fabric?? First thought was to cut it into bias strips and use it in gathers or ruffles or roll it into rosettes and apply to salvage another garment. At $15, it’s not the best deal I’ve made, but oh well.

Orange and gold brocade formal gown of 60s vintage. The way the bust darts are rotated down far into the side seams is what makes me think so. Also, this fabric has a lot of body and a loooong zipper, another hallmark of this era. Again, I think this was made for a fine lady by her dressmaker. The problem with a garment like this is the fit. It would have been a real trick to get it to fit nicely without becoming boxlike. You need excellent fitting from the bust up, or else it looks just awful. I bet this looked awful. I’m thinking, what? A bag. A fun jacket or topper. $7.

A party or wedding outfit for a very tiny woman or a child. No significant bust accommodation, so I’m guessing it was for a kid. Made of silk print chantung, it has a silk organza overlay. Gorgeous. Also the work of a dressmaker.

One flaw is the redonculously deep hem on the overlay — it’s easily 8 inches. Silly, ruins the garment. Metal zipper in a centered application, with no zipper guard to prevent the coils from scratching your back — an ugly fact of fitted garments of this era (late 50s, early 60s). Looks as though the construction involved stitching the overlay to the shell piece by piece, then joining the pieces together. Turn it into pillows? It cost $7.

Truly horrid 80s gown, albeit lined with faux China silk. The sleeves give away its decade of style.

Looks like a home sewer did this one.

One interesting thing about the construction is, the lining and shell were joined right sides together, then turned, which left clean finished seams at the back zipper and for the seam allowance on the back pieces. I like the tulip pattern of this brocade. I’m seeing a bag, a pillow embellishment, appliqué. It cost $8.

A shirtwaist dress of high quality cotton print poplin. It has self-fabric ball buttons and side seam pockets. There are no thread chains at the side waist seams, so perhaps this garment never had a belt, but it seems unlikely.
The style makes me think this is not a very vintage item (no obvious closet wear or fading) but I like the colors in the print very much. It came from Gumps (San Francisco) and it was made in Thailand.
It doesn’t quite fit me, but it cost $15. If the looming changes in my life include weight loss for 2008, I’m in business; otherwise, I’ll remake it to fit.

A lovely smock top with patch pockets from the 1950s, made from a darling conversational print! The lipstick pink, the black, the turquoise. The rooster, the sun, the cow, the barn, the pumpkin, the squirrel, the Christmas ornament. The 12 months of the year, and numerals 1-9. I love it, even though the collar and front plackets are not interfaced.
Factory made, it will still have to be treated with utmost care when I wash it. I may use it to cover my pooch when I wear my new Lucky jeans, but I’d love a pair of something more period, like toreador pants. It was a mere $2.50, the absolute bargain of this thrift run.

This was the jewel, oh man.

It’s not a vintage garment, but it is of the best quality. The label is Beatrice diBorbone, Roma, purchased from a boutique in Palm Desert. The linen dress has “crystal” straps, a hand-picked, centered zipper, and double darts at the bust. The skirt is too straight and doesn’t go over my hips. Over it goes a lovely, lovely cotton sweater bearing the same print as the linen fabric. It’s trimmed at the neck, bottom, and cuffs in the same linen, but that fabric has been pintucked. Acrylic “crystal” buttons are at the neck, bottom band and cuffs. All seams are Hong Kong finished or bound by linen strips. The bottom doesn’t go around me. The sleeve seams are dropped, and the gathering into the cuff is very unusual.
What to do? I hate to destroy the wonderful details of this garment, but modifications will be necessary if I am to wear it. Oh, there is the most wonderful green leather “cummerbund” that does not go around any bit of my torso. Again, it’s great, I’d hate to mess it up. I paid $17 to mull this over. It’s a great find.

This last piece, a men's jacket, came from a different shop. Even when I was trying it on in the store, people were remarking what a great jacket it is. It, too, is of the highest quality. Remaking it is possible, but highly labor-intensive.

I are a grown-up now

2007-10-09T08:01:00.000-05:00

One of the reasons I become stuck in sewing is, I tend to pick a lot of the same sort of fabrics over and over. Lots of us do that. In my case, it means using sturdy cottons, for they are easy to work with. And unless they are imported, they are pretty darn cheap. This is a habit acquired from my mother, who like garment sewing, but did it mostly for economical reasons and did not enjoy a special challenge (knits, for example, did not fare well in our 1947 Kenmore).

So it became my mission during sewing week in San Francisco to look for fabrics that are, honestly, more grown up than I typically choose. I needed to find yardage that co-ordinates with some "orphan" garments — those items of clothing you own that don't seem to really go with anything else you own. I have two pretty great blouses made of cotton/silk voile that I bought at Morrissey in Sydney two years ago, but they have no mates. Here is what I found at Britex.

I need to point out that the fabulous acid yellow plaid is not for a skirt. It's for a jacket. My photo's not great, but maybe you can see the fabric is shot with metallic thread. I will wear some kind of bright pink blouse with it and I bought some olive botton weight fabric for a skirt. This was quite a major purchase. I are a grown-up now. I think.

Stephanie

2007-09-29T08:43:00.001-05:00

Hey, Tim and Veronica! That Cynthia Rowley dress did not fit that woman!

2007-09-29T08:32:00.000-05:00

One possible benefit to insomnia is using the time to catch up on TV, so I rose early this morning to watch this week's Tim Gunn's Guide to Style. (Gunn, of course, is the real breakout of Project Runway and not the goofball designers.) I dig him, his authoritative manner, his folded arms, his suits, his wit, everything. Veronica Webb I could not care less about and in fact I would like to propose that we never hear the voices of fashion models, ever.

This week's project, Stephanie, is a petite woman who hadn't quite matured her wardrobe. Stephanie was lucky enough to draw Cynthia Rowley for her "big designer" garment, but unfortunately, she picked the wrong garment, an off-white & metallic sheath dress. First, you don't wear white to a wedding unless you are the bride. Them's the rules. Second, they erred on the side of "old" with that particular dress. It was too mature, approaching matronly (even on Stephanie's tiny body), and it was so Dallas, in my mind. Worst of all, it did not fit her. There were folds of fabric on the front bodice that showed it was too big for her upper chest and shoulders, and vertical wrinkles in the back tell us that the back bodice should have been narrowed and probably shorted as well. Another Rowley dress, the pink one with the empire waist, was a better fit and choice for this lady. Can't find photos of either dress, though.

A winter without pants

2007-09-26T16:30:00.000-05:00

I talked about the "no fat pants" rule. I wonder if it is possible to go through a winter without wearing pants at all, that is, wearing skirts and dresses instead. Or a bathrobe.

This question occurs to me because of two things:

1. I have disposed of most of my RTW pants, except for an altered pair from the aforementioned Manifesto, and a pair from Boden, and a pair of Levis. None of them is a perfect fit or length for me.

2. I am now many, many, many hours into pants muslin making, and I still do not have a good result. (I'm SO not going to put up a picture of this.)

We sewists know that a great pair of pants is the holy grail of sewing, and as with all Godly quests, we encounter more than a few false prophets on our journey. With so many contours of the body to fit, it's easy to see why a pair of excellent-fitting pants is the most difficult thing to accomplish. I was just stubborn enough to believe that I am stubborn enough to conquer this.

I honestly don't know if I have the stomach (well, yes I have a stomach) to take yet more fisheye darts out of the back leg, and reshape the crotch seam again, and cut out another muslin. I might just eliminate pants from my wardrobe, since I have almost wearied of being able to produce a pair for myself.

This doesn't even tread into the jeans area, another garment I have despaired of ever feeling like I've found my match.

One cool thing about San Francisco

2007-09-25T14:19:00.000-05:00

One thing that is so cool about San Francisco is, it is not white and young and male. It is Asian and Mexican and black and not everyone out on the street is under 25. I knew this already, but when I found myself on Irving St., south of Golden Gate Park and just east of Sunset, it really hit home. I had driven out on Geary all the way to the beach, then doubled back to Irving to find a location of Discount Fabrics so I could buy some muslin. I knew very well that I had long been out of any touristy areas, but on Irving St., I was roaming in a majority Asian residential neighborhood. It seemed so far away from Austin, which is infested with 21-year-old white men wearing turned-around baseball caps.

The common wisdom about Austin is that it's "laid back," and "youthful." But what it really is, is juvenile.

More alterations

2007-09-24T20:13:00.000-05:00

I've spent over 3 hours, including try-ons, on the alterations for this dress. I bought it in June from the wonderful Kingi Carpenter at her shop, Peach Berserk Cocktail in Toronto. Kingi is my hero. She went to art school, and, as she tells it, searched in vain for a dress with an Eiffel Tower print on it while on a student trip to Paris. Upon her return, she silk screened her own Eiffel Tower fabric and made her own dress, and that was the beginning of her business.

Kingi's clothes are unapologetically made for a girly, womanly, female, feminine dame (to borrow from South Pacific). Fashion trends? Whatever. If she doesn't think it looks good on a gal, then it's not in her collection. I really love this about her, that she has a point of view in her work, and it's totally her vision. Whoever doesn't like doesn't have to buy it, but she's not going to follow any voice but her own.

What is in her collection? Pretty girl dresses made of silk charmeuse, dupioni, organza. Jackets and coats. Knits get sewn into hoodies, t-shirt tops, slip dresses, even underwear. Every item is made of fabric that is silkscreened with one of her funky, witty prints. She has developed over 120 designs, from a Ziggy Stardust theme, to kitchen implements, to zippers. Recently, she has expanded her business to include teaching others to silk screen their own fabrics.

In her store/studio on Queen St. West, she has some of her garments on the rack. They are available for sale, but what she really wants to do is create a custom garment just for you, using your choices of colors, prints, and fabric. Such a service does not come at a bargain price, of course, and it's even more expensive for Americans now, since the US dollar is almost 1:1 with the Canadian dollar. But since I am always interested in unique garments, I ordered a knit top with the "Sex & the Single Girl" print, and this silk charmeuse, empire waist, surplice bodice dress with "Tango Roses" on it. (I also snagged 4 yards of black silk dupioni with her "Eiffel for You" print, not knowing what I would do with it.)

Despite Kingi's seamstress's measurements of my body, my dress did not quite fit when it arrived at home 5 weeks or so after my visit to Toronto. The bodice was too long for me. I could have mailed it back to Peach Berserk for a new one, but I decided not to. I'll fix it myself, I thought.

When I put on this dress for Sandra to get her alteration advice, she reacted with obvious pleasure at the "out there" womanliness of this garment and inquired why I do not use this power more often in my life. This is a very good question. I don't think I can quite be like Kingi Carpenter, who, with her fishnets and nail polish and platform shoes and silk skirts with a hem flounce, is channeling a new Betsy Johnson (without the skanky drug culture vibe). But I want some of whatever thang that woman has, at least some days. Kingi would wear this dress anywhere, whether she was going to a fancy restaurant or to eat pizza. I would not, but until I got it to fit me, I wasn't going to wear it at all.

I had to first carefully pick out the understitching holding down the bodice facing, then take apart the shoulder seams of both the lining and fashion fabric. This job was made far simpler by the fact that the lining is attached only by tacks at the side seams, a short line of stitching at the front under the bust, and at the back center seams by the zipper. The rest of the facing is free. I could almost turn the top inside out to get to what I needed to alter, without completely taking the garment apart. I sewed new shoulder seams, taking in about 1.5" there. But I never did get both restitched armhole seams exactly the same. That's always the way it goes with alterations. One side may not perfectly match the other. Why? Because you are working with tiny, trimmed and clipped seam allowances. No wiggle room. There is also no way I can get this into my machine again to replace the understitching. That will have to be done by hand.

I'm glad to salvage this dress, but next time I will order custom yardage from Kingi and sew it myself. George Bush's economic policy be damned.

We had to call in the Marines

2007-09-23T11:20:00.000-05:00

This young man isn't really a Marine, he's Airborne. (As soon as I know the difference, I'll say so.)

My fellow Hands On participants, Vicki and Sandy, headed out for some wine to share with the group on our last evening of sewing and talking, on the 10th floor of the Marines Memorial Club hotel, where Hands On with Sandra Betzina is held. My first night at Marines in 2005 wasn't so great. San Fran was in a heat wave, and my unremodeled room was on the 8th floor, facing west and the street scene below. So closing the windows was not an option, and of course there is no air conditioning in the rooms. The next day I was able to jump to another room on a lower floor that faces the back wall of the JW Marriott and I've asked for that same room ever since.

Marines is a hotel and meeting place for active and retired members of the armed services and their families. It's not mentioned in any guide book I've read, but anyone can book a room there. The majority of the weekday guests are older people who are using the hotel as a base for a jaunt in Northern California, but they also attend reunions and club meetings (for example, a reunion of medical personnel who served in a surgical hospital in Vietnam was going on this year while I was there). Its recent remodeling has made it an attractive wedding spot for locals, as well. The Commandants Room has a stunning view of the East Bay. Our meeting room, the Heritage Room, has a view of Nob Hill.

When it is unbearable here, I imagine this view:

A meeting of some sort was taking place in the Regimental Room next door and there were all sorts of active military men around, a color guard, that sort of thing. Well, Vicki and Sandy got back with our wine but could not get the bottles uncorked. So they decided to get a young, strong guy to do it and beckoned one of them from the lobby. He was awfully kind about it and good-natured when we asked to photograph him. We had a bit of trouble explaining (as we always do) what we were doing in there with sewing machines and a big cutting table. Later, another young man came in and said a button from his uniform had come off and could we help him? We offered to sew it on, but learned that uniform buttons must be safety-pinned on, for easy removal when the garment is cleaned. Luckily, I had a safety pin.

On the 10th floor mezzanine level, there is a memorial wall bearing the names of servicemen and women who have died in Iraq. They have already had to extend the wall once since I have started coming to Marines, and drywall workers were busy once up there more during my recent visit. They are having to find more room to put up tiles bearing the names of military personnel who have been killed, because there seems to be no end in sight to the deaths of US men and women serving in Iraq. This photo is last year's. Now the wall comes around in sort of an "L" shape. Pretty soon, it will be boxed in. Kind of like the US in Iraq. No way out.

Girl, you got a skirt sewed to yo' sweata

2007-09-23T09:50:00.000-05:00

By my reckoning, I have spent about 8 hours altering this dress. That's right, altering it. I:

gently took apart the seams that joined the sleeves to the bodice

narrowed the shoulder and rejoined the sleeves to the bodice (this was where the bulk of my time was spent)

gently took apart the seam joining the bodice to the skirt

rejoined the skirt to the bodice, contouring the seam so as to eliminate horizontal wrinkles I had before

reinstalled the side seam invisible zipper

Assuming I was working with a well-drafted pattern that I had already fit to my body, I could have easily sewn this dress from scratch in about the same amount of time, plus an hour or so for buttonholes and hems.

That's right, gals. It's easier to give birth than resurrect something. Taking apart someone else's sewing and redoing a garment is not a time-saver, nor are your results better than the original. In this case, the original construction on this dress was phenomenal. It killed me that the dress did not fit me, but I could not wear it. So it hung in my closet for over a year, unworn. Sandra Betzina did the pinning for me last week at the seminar in San Francisco to guide my alterations. I can honestly say I did not put the garment back together as well as it was originally made. But I had spent plenty of money on this dress from Manifesto, now defunct, and I wanted to salvage it. My results are acceptable, but not fantastic.

Which brings me to wonder once more: Why the current obsession with redoing and "recycling" garments? Girl, you got a skirt sewed to yo' sweata, and it shows. Start from the beginning, and make a garment of quality. At this point, honestly, I'm not sure this dress will ever be a workhorse item in my wardrobe. And I have at least one other dress to similarly rescue before it is wearable. I spent a lot of money on it, too. Now I will be spending time. I wish I had saved both and started from scratch.

There is no such thing as a day for fat pants

2007-09-21T11:15:00.000-05:00

I just came back a few days ago from another "Hands On" seminar with Sandra Betzina in San Francisco. It's hard to talk to non-sewists about this fantastic experience. It's about sewing, for sure, how to get better at it. Oh, but it's more. Think about it: Ten women, all ages, mothers and child-free, married and single. We start working about 8 am and at around 11 pm, some of us crawl to bed and collapse for several hours of citified sleep. During those waking hours, we talk about a lot more than just Hong Kong finishes and zippered welt pockets.

The best lesson you can learn from Sandra Betzina, however, is that there is no right day to wear "fat pants." Just forget it. Get a fat pant-emdectomy. No more.

This time we spent a long time on each other's makeovers. We brought in things we had made or things we had bought, both successes and failures. Sandra assessed everyone with her kind and critical eye. Sandra never tells anyone something she is not ready to hear. I knew some of my A-line skirts weren't working, but it took her to really make me decide to change. We took in the side seams of one of my Skirt Lady skirts by a good 4". What a difference in my silhouette. Man. I have at least 3 more to do the same thing to. In the photo above, Sandra is on the left and Vicki, another Hands On participant, is getting Sandra's up-to-the-minute advice.

And, score!

2007-06-30T21:36:00.000-05:00

You're driving and you see the signs: Estate Sale This Weekend. If you haven't hit that baby the first hour it opened, all you're gonna get a crack at buying is some old bedsheets and cake pans, which may have been the hottest items in the sale, anyway, in the the first hour. (There are always old bedsheets and cake pans.) You never know how picked over the sale already is before it even starts. Oftentimes, it isn't really an estate sale — you are not combing through the last earthly possessions of departed grandmother. It's a lotta dealers who've been to other estate sales and are reselling the stuff they've scooped up somewhere else.

So, knowing this, I stopped at the sale anyway, 2:30 pm, Saturday. It was at a home in a nice-but-not-over-the-top neighborhood off Walsh Tarlton. The yard was well-kept, but not fastidious and the exterior of the house was clean, not run down. Estate sales are the last event in the lifespan of a widow. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it's a widow. And more often than not, the last days of the lady's life were spent alone, with her home falling down around her in little moldy pieces.

Luckily, that was not the case with this home. As per usual, it had not been updated in a while. But it had that homey, lovely smell: inoffensive pet aromas, tinged with the perfume residue of laundry detergent. If I had a grandmother to visit, I would have wanted her to be this lady. I was there to look for the things I always look for at sales: patterns, fabric (even just scraps), and notions. Bingo. Closet of the one of the bedrooms, which likely had been the sewing room. It would have been easy to miss, unless you're a digger and hoarder. Only a little uncut yardage, and bags of scraps that had been grouped together by the ladies running the sale. Here's some of what I snagged:

bonded wool/acrylic in a kiwi green plaid (a fabric that hasn't been available in stores for a long time)

Missoni-type knit

some small lengths of 36" cotton rose-print broadcloth (feels like Swiss cotton)

pieces of a pretty, deep coral plaid shift that had been cut out but never sewn, probably because the plaid was not matched

some outrageously cool 70s home dec

a rectangle of "craft" fabric with faux quilt squares of Sunbonnet Sue

Patterns:

a tie pattern from McCalls that I clearly remember my mother having in her pattern stash, copyright 1970

another tie pattern from McCalls that is supposed to be reversible, and convertible to wear as an ascot, copyright 1972

McCalls shoulder bag, copyright 1972

Butterick pattern for 70s casual hats

Kwik Sew pattern for a man's raglan sleeve t-shirt

Kwik Sew pattern for a man's pajamas

Kwik Sew pattern for ladies' tops made with tubular rib knit (KS patterns are from the 70s)

Simplicity pattern for a zip front, knit tennis shirt with a really, really big collar (copyright 1973)

Kwik Sew pattern for a complete set of kitchen accessories and some of the embroidery transfers still with the pattern pieces

A quick duck into the master bedroom did not yield much except for a most excellent, way early 1970s shift, made at home. It cost $1.

I whipped through the rest of the garments on the closet rod and identified several other home sewn garments because I had seen the fabric scraps from those projects in the other bedroom closet. This lady favored a simple sheath dress style with very few style lines, and none of the things she made were embellished or made to seem customized for her at all. She was active in a different era of sewing at home, not like now, with everything being completely tricked out. Anyway, I feel like I scored.

Baer's Fabrics & baseball

2006-10-22T19:25:00.000-05:00

I can't say that I was ever planning to visit Louisville, KY, but the occasion of an old friend's wedding there brought la familia to "the Ville" this weekend. We stayed at the shockingly hip and sweet 21C Museum Hotel in downtown Louisville. It's new, it has a "museum" of new art on the ground floor (mostly multimedia installations), and the restaurant connected to the hotel, Proof on Main, was nothing short of outstanding.

I, of course, made a beeline to Baer's Fabrics, which turned out to be a good 20 minute walk away. But it's actually fall weather in Kentucky, there were few vagrants about, and the stroll past Louisville's 19th century buildings in transition to loft living was pleasant.

The old floors squeak and crunch under your feet in Baer's, and the people working there are nice and knowledgeable. I would say that their fine fabrics selection is pretty much limited to woolens, but there were some very nice ones there. They had quite a large selection of buttons, one of the most expansive I've ever seen outside of Toronto. I had forgotten my pocket library of fabrics at home and did not know which buttons I wanted to buy. Finally, I drew upon my shaky memory and bought what I thought I needed. They were having a 25% off sale! I also bought some fun "bubble brocade" fabric that I think will make a great dressy jacket. In all, not my usual haul, but a lot of fun nonetheless.

Later that day, the child and I visited the Louisville Slugger factory, where baseball bats are made, and the black-tinted bats used in the World Series were being finished and packed for shipping. We got to hold models of the actual baseball bats that Lance Berkman and Craig Biggio order for themselves. I didn't know that Major League players get to order their own baseball bats, but they do. We could have picked up one that Albert Pujols uses, but I uttered a quiet "Booooo" in my child's ear and we didn't touch his stinky bat. I was quiet because people in L'ville are rooting for the Cardinals in the World Series. Their AAA farm team is in Louisville. I hate the Cardinals.

I hate Jeffery Sebelia and topstiching

2006-10-19T09:01:00.000-05:00

Here's why I hate Jeffery Sebelia, winner of Season Three of Project Runway. You can call his Sid & Nancy routine and affection for heroin chic just a matter of taste. But the needs of children are non-negotiable. Last week, Vicious said he wanted to win Project Runway so his toddler son would be proud of him. Got news for ya, pal, it's not your son's job to be proud of you, to puff you up. Ever. This sort of thing is never obvious to alcoholics and drug addicts, though. They're always blaming other people's lack of appreciation for them for their wretched behavior.

I love contrast topstiching, but it's a bugger to accomplish. Three passes at my Vogue 2865 jacket, and I still don't have flawless results. I was thinking that one of Jeffery Sebelia's sample makers could probably get it done perfectly. Maybe I should drop by the next time I'm in LA. This jacket project, only my second ever in over 25 years of sewing, has been an online class project through patternreview.com. If you haven't checked out that Web site and you sew, do yourself a favor and sign up.