Zen and the gentle art of unpicking....

I really wanted to give this post another title, but I think I would have had to change the "uses rude words" setting of my blogger profile. I'm hoping you can smell the sarcasm on my breath...



I decided to tackle my first BWOF pattern, and chose an easy, 3-pattern-piece, knit top 02-2009-108. Traced it off during one of Mr 2 years old's rare daytime naps; added seam allowances; cut it out that evening. Tried to sew it up last night and a combination of tired eyes and brain led to a whole lot of swear-inducing unpicking. Grey thread on grey marle knit, at 9 pm, with a pair of eyes that I suspect need to visit the optometrist, is not a good combination.

Anyhoo...I got it finished. I used a cheap $4/m cotton/lycra-ish stuff from Nick's Fabrics (Dominion Rd, AKL) as it was supposed to be a wearable muslin before I cut into my merino stash. Very happy with the fit, though I might just lower the front neckline a smidge as it's a bit snug against my throat.

I cut a 36, and added about three inches to the body length (not due to a pattern malfunction; just because I've got a really long back and and am no longer of an age that I like to show off my belly button ;-) )I added clear elastic to the neck edges (which I inadvertenly stretched on the back neck edge and ended up with a slight gather)and stabilised the shoulders with same clear elastic (serged on). I also shaved about 1.5cm off the top of the sleeve cap (as per suggestions on PR) and sewed it in flat...with the overlocker. Which I probably won't do again as it was a tiny bit stressful...or if I do do it again, I won't try to do it whilst simultaneously cutting off the 1.5cm seam allowances. Duh.

All in all a great pattern, and one that I see myself making again and again. It'll be great to have some high-necked merino tops to wear for the remainder of the winter, since most of the styles I've found in shops this season seem to be low cut. What's with that? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of it being a warm woolly thing? Or am I just being a nana?

They don't look this bad in real life, honest...

Sewing mojo has been seriously absent in my house over the last little while, thanks to that winning combination of winter lethargy, sick kids, and the boring bits of life in general getting in the way. I've also had a pile of "must sews" glaring at me which have been aggravating me to the point of total craft-inertia; this weekend will hopefully see the end of the nappy-sewing marathon and I'll be good to go with the projects that have been buzzing around my head for the last few weeks.

Anyway, I have finished one thing. A couple of weeks ago I attended a Palmer/Pletsch pants fitting workshop and it was fantastic. I learned so much and am really looking forward to a future wardrobe of pants that fit. We spent a lot of time altering the fit pattern, but despite flaring the legs out by a factor of lots, and dropping the waistband about 5 cm, the pants have managed to retain a certain je ne sais quoi that reminds me of their supertapered, stopping way above the ankle, high waisted origins.

I cut a 10, but then took out about 4cm through the back; I think I'd actually be better off cutting an 8 and adding the required extra to the hips. They've also sagged out a bit in the back and the knees, and are not helped at all by the fact that the photo was taken in harsh afternoon sunlight in all their unironed glory.

So, all in all, not the coolest pants in town; but in the spirit of blogging and sewing verisimilitude, here they are, in all their unironed (but very comfy)glory. I'm definitely looking forward to having a go at the alterations on a funky pattern, and I've got a couple of the Vogue Alice & Olivia ones in mind. Will endeavour to be back soon.

The weather made me do it.

I haven't been spending much time with my sewing machine lately, mainly because the evenings have been so cold and it's depressing sitting in the cold dining room (where my sewing machine is) when the rest of the family is in front of the fire in the lounge. I can never go all that long without crafting something, though, so I've picked up the needles again, and have rediscovered my knitting groove. I also went to Devonport last week and visited the amazing Wild & Woolly yarns and might just have bought myself a few little treats...like this beautiful moss-green Sublime.
I actually started knitting this in the hope that it would fit Mr 2 - the pattern is a modified version of Elizabeth Zimmerman's "Baby sweater on two needles" from Knitter's Almanac, and calls for 4 ply. I used 8 ply, 4 mm needles, stocking stitch instead of the gull lace pattern, and a very unscientific guess that it would turn out "big enough"....ahem. Unfortunately, this is not going to be the case, but nevermind. I think it's coming out about 6-9 month size, so I'll just have to put it away into the new baby present box just in case anyone I know has a new little person to put in it.

If I had the money, I'd knit everything in this yarn. It's so soft and springy and has the most beautiful sheen. It's also really interesting how the stitch pattern ends up looking like one straight (vertical) line and one angling one in stocking stitch - I think I remember reading something about this on Knitty.com once and it was something to do with the way the yarn was plied, from memory.

Anyway, I've got a few sewing projects in the wings but for the moment I'm loving knitting this mindless stocking stitch with my feet in front of the fire. I can't think of much better to do on a cold Friday night, though I hate to think what my 21 year old self would have to say about my party-animal 32 year old self. Hmm....

Balls for little people

In a perfect world, my kids' rooms would be filled with beautiful, handcrafted toys made out of natural materials. I love, in theory, the idea that the simpler the toy, the more creatively little people play with it. Unfortunately, the exasperating reality is that our house is well and truly overrun with plastic crap. It breeds. It is my nemesis.

Last week I went to a Playcentre workshop on felting, and learned how to do basic wet felting, and a little bit of needle felting - and, because I clearly need a new hobby (sarcasm intended) I've become hooked. It's so very, very satisfying, squishing a soft ball of wool into a felted ball. It's messy, it's squelchy, it's fibre and colour and warm water all rolled into one.
So, in the spirit of handmade-natural-gifty-goodness, I made these balls for a little friend who has just turned one. I needle-felted the spots and spiral onto them before wet-felting them; the darker one is wrapped with Tekapo summertime yarn (which is sort of felted into the ball.)

We've done this on session at Playcentre with some of the older kids, and it worked really well as an activity...I tried it at home too and it wasn't so successful. Just in case you were feeling similarly inclined I just thought I'd let you know that it's quite possible for balls made by kids to end up looking a little scraggly...maybe just a little like something the cat spewed up. Just sayin'.

I got my felting wool from here, and similar instructions to those I received at the workshop can be found here.

Like wrestling eels.

It's like wrestling eels, trying to get a four year old to stand still and be biddable for a photo. Note the surly "this is booooring Mum" expression. These were the best I could get, but at least...it's done.
I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I'm almost as relieved this project is over as I was when I finished my thesis.

I'm actually really pleased with how this turned out. It was heaps more work than I had initially signed up for, but I learned a lot doing it - how to set in a sleeve; how interfacing makes the fabric far easier to control in a coat (next time I'll fuse the whole lot rather than just the edges); how sewing on leather strapping and toggles is not something I ever want to do again. Hey, I also learned that my machine came with an edgestitching foot - I've had it 10 years and never noticed. I've even been wondering about buying one. Guess it pays to read the manual, huh?

I'm slightly disappointed with the way the toggles and loops hang - I used the exact measurements Burda recommended for the cord, but I think they need to be shorter to close the jacket fully and not droop. I used leather strapping for the loops, which is perhaps a bit stiff, but I wanted to funk up the jacket a bit - while the fabric is beautiful, in combination with the red satin lining it was all starting to look a bit serious and mature for a four year old boy who still can't quite put his own socks on. I covered the ends of the loops with leather tabs - the pattern recommends using the fabric, but since the recommended fabric is a fleece-backed stuff that is probably non-fraying, I decided that leather would be better.
Because of the loop/toggle issue, I ended up handsewing a little metal snap at the neck edge to counteract the gaping at the front.

The sleeve hems are huge, in the hope that I'll be able to let them down in a few years to get a bit more wear out of the jacket.

Anyway, he likes it, and it's been worn...which, given the great fickleness of children, is a grand achievement in our house.

A little ignorance goes a long way.

When I was at high school, one of the teachers had a sticker on her office door that said "a little ignorance goes a long way". For some reason the saying has always appealed to me.

I think it relates pretty well to sewing, too. I've been sewing clothes for myself since I was about 11, but in the absence of any close family members who sew, I pretty much taught myself through making a whole lot of mistakes. Lots and lots of mistakes, including old chestnuts like sewing the crotch of a pair of pants together "what? Surely it's quicker if I just fold the fronts and backs of both legs together and sew it in one pass!" Yeah. I learned that one the hard way. Along the years there have been many more, of course: corduroy trousers cut out not according to the nap layout; little satin miniskirts with unfinished edges fraying into oblivion; straps that are wider on one side than the other. And notches? Who needs 'em? Most of the time I got myself into trouble by thinking that I was cleverer than the pattern instructions, and then found out that there was a logical reason for doing things the right way.

Anyway, finally I've come to a situation where the instructions are not in fact the best way to do things. Yussss. After battling with the set-in sleeves of Mr 4's duffel coat lining, I went to visit Mary Anna for a little tutorial on how to set in sleeves the right way - and Oh. My. Goodness. Why, oh why, don't the pattern instructions tell you to do it this way? It makes so much sense, and took about half the time that all the faffing around with gathers did, and - this is the most important part - They look really good!
Mary Anna showed me how to do one sleeve, while my children ran amok in her living room, then I went home and did the other sleeve that night. I'm a total convert, and am looking forward to setting in sleeves with confidence from now on. At least that little bit of ignorance in my sewing vocabulary has now been banished....although I'm sure there are plenty more.

So. The coat. We're nearly there. I've been trying to figure out how to bag the lining, but I think (and correct me if I'm wrong) the fact that the pattern doesn't have a separate facing, means that I can't do it the traditional way. I've spent ages trying to figure out the instructions over at Threads but my sleep-deprived brain can't quite comprehend them. I've sewn the lining to the front edges, right around the hood, so just need to finish the sleeve and body hems and attach the toggles and I'll have it done, and not a minute too soon. I'm looking forward to sewing for myself again, that's for sure.

So...tell me...When has ignorance got the better of you? What have been your worst sewing stuff-ups?

A little palate cleanser...

I think I've mentioned it before, but just in case I haven't, I'm an instant gratification kinda gal. I see something I want to make, and I want it made, right now. Along the way, I do actually enjoy the sewing process: the satisfaction of a neatly pressed hem in a crisp cotton; the feel of manipulating fabric through the machine; the rhythm of taking tiny handstitches and drawing the thread through the fabric. Those are the good bits. Often though, I get overwhelmed by an urge to finish the garment because I just want it done - and of course, this is where it all invariably turns to ...y'know. Crap.
Lately, though, I've been trying to be far more measured and patient, inspired by my sewing neighbour-from-across-the-road Mary Anna. From what I've seen, her way of working is the antithesis of mine: patient, meticulous, self-controlled, and her garments are always beautifully finished. I, on the other hand, have a tendency to cut corners wherever possible; find lazy ways of doing stuff; and rush to get things finished. I often find myself swearing at a totally botched garment at midnight; a garment which was in good shape and had potential a mere half an hour earlier.
Anyway, I'm trying to take a leaf out of Mary Anna's book. If something isn't working, I stop. If it's 11:30 and I can barely see, I stop, even if there's only the hem and some topstitching to go. If I'm experiencing any sewing rage, I walk away. So far, it's working well :-)

The set in sleeves in Mr 4's duffel coat are giving me grief, so I decided I needed a little break from it. A sorbet; a palate cleanser between courses, if you will ;-) So I decided to whip up a quick knit dress for myself. I've had this idea kicking around in my head for ages, and have been searching for the perfect pattern to use. I've actually found quite a few candidates, but in the interim, I used good old Simplicity 3835, here in the dress version. I added about three inches to the length, gathered the neck with clear elastic (quartered and stitched on with a 3-step zig-zag), then encased the gathered neckline in a bias binding. I needed to repeat the colour of the binding somewhere else on the dress for it to make sense visually, and had thought about edging some pockets with it, but instead opted for a mock button tab on the sleeve edge. In the end I omitted the pockets entirely, because I thought they'd make the whole thing look too busy.



The fabric is a wool blend from the Kate Sylvester sale - all of $2 a metre or something, and the binding is cut from a fat quarter of some art-deco-ish leaf print quilting fabric. All in all, the verdict is good - it's warm, albeit a little scratchy at the waist underneath the belt (solved with a little cami underneath) and it's suitably casual and comfy to suit my lifestyle.

Right. Sorbet over. Time to move onto the main course - jacket body, here I come.