“You have your ubulus muscle… that connects to the upper dorsinus.”

So anyway today I got some real giggles. I was cited and quoted, briefly, in an article on Salon (“Home-schooled and illiterate”, by Kristin Rawls). And in the article I look like a real dick. Like picture me in a Camaro racing down the highway and airily tossing plastic litter out the window directly into a woodland creature’s eye. So anyhoo, this afternoon – for clarity especially as any home-ed’ers might want to know more about my involvement with this article – I posted the entirety of my exchange with the author on Underbellie.

It was kinda weird because only an hour before I was alerted to this piece, I was sitting on the bleachers at the Y and knitting while listening to kids play and parents talk. Today the kids and I began revisiting Homeschool Sports which we hadn’t been a part of for almost two years (OK, this is my funniest post about our previous tenure). And I was instantly re-reminded of how curriculum-oriented religious home educators are. No, I wasn’t annoyed, or judging – just noticing. And of course I was noticing how wonderfully and exuberantly these homeschooled children play together (none of my readers will be surprised Phoenix was instantly the leader of the gang, and on her first day!). It was really odd to come home and find myself implicated in this sorta sinister plot of religious home educators doing things that, well, were the exact opposite things of what I see religious home educators doing. P.S. I was also giggling to myself because there was this really cute be-flannel’d hipster-looking dad (looking a lot younger than I, sad times, I’m getting to be an olde harpy) and I was all ready to sidle up just for idle chat with him but he got talking about a Bible class in this way I remember from my old church days and I thought I’d give it a miss.

I’m not going to comment further on the Salon article at this time and in this space, although of course I have a handful of opinions. “lt’s boring, but it’s part of my life.” My opinions.

***

Last night I went to bed with a headache and this morning I woke with that sort of spiky ear-to-throat feeling on the left side. Today I opted to sleep in a bit while an electrician banged around in my upstairs. Uh, that’s not a euphemism. Anyway my children took care of me for a couple hours and they handled the electrician business as well; during my attempts to rest my mother had the kids over to her place and fed them steak and yogurt smoothie for breakfast (yeah – I know!). After I rose I cleaned up, then spent the rest of the day consuming tea and spicy food, running a few errands, playing with the children, and buying up some t-shirts to cut into great kiddo-wear.

Speaking of: tomorrow Gray’s General Store opens only three blocks from my locale. Um, people, we are talking about a place with fabric and zippers and heavy-duty thread and old sewing machines! Those of you who know me and my little wee town know I am peeing-my-pants-levels-excited. This store and I are gonna be like PEAS AND CARROTS, do you even know how long I’ve waited for some crafty goodness such as this? * dances a wee jig *

And, I’ve been asked to teach there. I am pondering what to teach. No tote bags, pillow cases. Nuh-uh. Will have to keep thinking about it.

Tomorrow: homeschool skate. Last time I went I think I still had my green hair. I’m going to get up on some wheels too. And a big giant-ass coat because that skating rink is like a meat locker.

kittle, kittle, author, author

Poor Ralph. Truly he does not know when I’m going to get this feverish idea and simply obsess on something until I get my way. In this case “my way” involved about $32 worth of sewing patterns, which I enjoy shopping for and ruminating on more than perhaps the reader can understand. At dinner the children asked I sew them sleepwear and were quite specific: two “nightshirts” that match in style (but not size nor fabric), as well as a set of button-up flannel PJs for Nels (“Like my mermaid pajamas,” he tells me – and reader it is a total shame I never took pictures of those home-dyed and hand-embroidered lovelies!) and a summer-weight nightgown for Phoenix.

As we finished our dinner (homemade pita stuffed with fried tofu, cucumber, and grated extra-sharp cheddar cheese) my brain was working like the tiny little self-perpetuating maniac it is.  When I contemplate my next sewing project (and just so you know, there’s currently one 20% underway in my sewing room, and it’s going to be Awesome) I think over what fabrics I have, what patterns I have; my children’s current tastes vs. what’s already in their closet (in this case, nothing regarding sleepwear; they go to bed in home-sewn boxers and Walmart panties). In my case the planning is one of my favorite parts of sewing: in a kind of energized trance I swim through my ideas, my inspirations, strategies and skillset; it is the first stage in a process where I pluck something from thin air that never before existed and fashion it with my tiny little hands.

By the time my mom stopped by to pick up the children for a sleepover (her request) and we all shared a half bottle of wine (“we all” meaning the grownups) I’d thumbed through my pitiful little batch of highly organized Ottobre patterns and thought about the Etsy shop I stalk for vintage children’s patterns.  I also considered an appropriate “nightshirt” for Nels, meaning one he would love and that I would enjoy sewing – something new to tackle. After the kids left I circled around Ralph like a shark and then came out with it: he must allocate funds for these sewing patterns. My final pattern decisions: one of my Ottobre patterns for the button-up pajamas, the Folkwear kittle for matching nightshirts, and a lovely vintage nightgown for my daughter (who favors fitted bodices and long hems). In all cases I already own the requisite fabrics (although I could be persuaded, always, to buy something else fondle-able and lovely) and – to save on shipping, obviously – I gave ordered just one more excellent set for my girl, a little swimset she will adore (probably to be made up in seersucker, which my mom charmingly calls “cocksucker”, which to her credit, a tiny bit, is a piece of jokery from a respected and acclaimed novel). Thinking of these patterns winging their way to my porch, to arrive just as I finish the current sewing project, gave me little shivers of joy.

I’ve been realizing just lately I feel a tiny, tiny bit sad at the middling-quality fabrics I often sew with. This simply can’t be helped; if I am to sew as much as I do I have to rely on sales from the large “meh”-quality chain, thrift store finds (and fabric “scores” are sparse, here), and gifted fabric (two yardages of flannel sent by my girl JJ will be made into Nels’ button-up jams). In my most recent finished object I did observe that a higher quality fabric would have rendered a well-made piece into a piece of Art; but, well, we’re a single-income family of four (with lots of pets) and I make clothes my kids wear into threadbare dust with their varieties of high-energy outdoor play.

So that’s that, for now.

In other news I am fully published, for realz. Let me tell you, tears of pride and gladness are in my weak beady eyes thinking on this. Wendy Priesnitz, the founder and editor of this publication (as well as companion magazine Natural Life) is a Real Life (S)hero to me – someone I look up to immensely and find myself reading and re-reading her words. She has been a deeply influential mind and author in our family. For some perspective, I get told by several my writings serve as help, or mentorship, or are appreciated for candor or insight. Well, Priesnitz is a persona and author I go to for mentorship, one of the few I’ve found who’s spoken to my heart and mind like cool drafts of clear water. To be included in her publication is extremely gratifying.

The article I wrote, “The Unschooling Conversation That Never Happens”, is available with subscription obviously (and I recommend it; it’s a wonderful periodical and includes awesome authors like 19-yr old unschooled anarchist Idzie) but will also soon be available online either at Underbellie or the LL site or both.

And finally a footnote: HQX residents may be amused at the “lumberjack” collection at Etsy. Yeah, ok, little cutesy/hipster stuff because loggers are funny and quaint and extinct? Grays Harbor, you and I know logging history is here and gone but also still very, very much with us.

summer McStitchery whiz-bang

Nels & I & My Mom's Minivan
Last week before a beach date – and as the kids slept – I frenetically sewed up a pair of linen shorts for each kid using Burda 9641. Nels loves his Times One Hundred and calls them his “Fancy Pants”, after the video game character he so loves (and resembles). By the way on hot summer days I let my kids eat ice cream about five times a day, or as much as they want it. Here we’re just about to hit Scoops while waiting for my mom who’s around the corner getting a picture framed.

We bought one of those cheap kid pools from (the dreaded) Walmart. My daughter is lovely to me. I love most that she has a brand new swimsuit on and that in order to find one long enough for her it’s all baggy. I love grabbing her up and getting a handful of that suit.
Walmart/Summer Part 1

Walmart/Summer Part 2

Walmart/Summer Part 3

Walmart/Summer Part 4
Doing laundry with a “washboard”. Nels is often out in our front yard in his underwear; in this case he has the boxers, not the tighty-whities, so I’m less likely to get the tsk-tsk from neighbors.

High Noon (Bluster)
This is Bluster, our alpha-hen (except one brief afternoon where a toe injury toppled her off the high-horse; she recovered quickly).

Lemon Bloom
“Our lemon tree is doing well” (Holy shit, those pictures I just linked to were taken only a handful of weeks ago and LOOK how much my son has grown since then! I’m scared. I really am.), in fact there are between one to two hundred blooms on the plant (it had four last year when we got it). Lemon blooms look lovely but they smell amazing, sublime.

Last night I finished a dress for Phoenix made from an out-of-print (or OOP, in sewing-parlance) Vogue pattern from the 50s. I have much to write regarding sewing with my first very, very vintage pattern. Here I am doing a curved hem from the topside, no pins nor gathering stitches (that’s right monkey-flippers!):

Skillz

This was also my first time working with a sheer overlay. It went very well as I just applied the principles of underlining (darts separately, then hand-basting all layers).  Since I so often sew for my children, my knowledge of couture techniques is often tempered with practicalities of homesewing equipment and the fact my “clients” will probably, say, immediately take the new frock down a ramp on a skateboard and tear the shit out of their hem). Hopefully I can get one good picture of my daughter in this dress before Whatever Befalls It.

Bound Buttonholes
Above: four bound buttonholes, not at all the menace I thought they’d be. Practice makes perfect as they say. These, at a scant 1/2″, made Ralph flip his shit when he saw them because they were so tiny and perfect. The dress itself taught me quite a bit: besides the overlay business and the bound buttonholes I also bias-bound the armscyes, made shoulder pads from scratch and tacked by french knots, stitched up (a simplified version of) lantern sleeves, and employed to good effect pseudo-tucks via lapped seams. Using vintage patterns to sew for my children is winning my heart over.

Today the family has asked for Shepherd’s pie for dinner, which should be lovely fare to cook, and I’m going to get started on Nels’ companion piece to this dress.  Good times.

(I wonder if my readers enjoy or loathe my picture-heavy posts. Yet they are a record as much as any Wordy McWordiness I whack away on.)

Insa skirt: size matters!

Sometimes these things happen. You sew something up and it doesn’t fit. Guess what, this rarely ever happens to me, but it’s happened three times in the last couple weeks. One item was the Insa skirt from the Farbenmix book which I’d intended for my daughter Sophie.

No matter. I not only know scores of little girls who’d likely enjoy a frilly skirt, I also have a smaller-scale model in-house who’s happy to pose so I can get pictures before I send it to its new home:

Reach
Helpful
Inspection
As I took pictures Nels reached for my scissors and began to snip at a stray thread on the skirt. This is something he’s seen me fuss over a million times. I’m touched he knows it’s part of the sewing process.

On to the pattern. As I discovered, it does run small; this is easy enough to forstall, but I was lazy and just sewed the same size I’d been sewing from the book. If you’d like to make sure you don’t make my mistake, simply measure the waistband and yoke circumference, take your sewing tape, and put it around your child’s hips at that same measurement. This circumference should have enough room from waist to mid-thigh your child can move comfortably. Remember, as it’s an elastic waist it’s easy to make a slightly large skirt fit just fine at the waist. Anyway, a too-large skirt is obviously a more desirable result than a too-small one as your child will grow into it in about five minutes.

The skirt’s lines are lovely. There is an easy and fabric showy feature on the underskirt that allows you to add volume to the skirt and show off more of the underlayer. This is accomplished by vertical lengths of 1/4″ elastic on the underside of the underskirt, midway through each gore. The elastic is cut to length and triple-stitched: a more “bubbly” effect is obtained the shorter the elastic strips you use, as I did:
Elastic For Fullness

The skirt is, like all the patterns in the book, made for using many different fabrics, scraps, and embellishments. You can add a contrast waistband (as I did) or use the upper edge of the yoke for the elastic facing. It’s the perfect skirt for twirling and lots of movement, and also to show off trims and topstitching:
Topstitched, Twin Needle

And finally, I added my own label at the center back yoke, on the inside of the skirt. Who knows where it may end up and maybe they’ll come look me up and find my sewing and be inspired.
Tag, Right Side

oh good lord have i told you how much i love to sew?

Hairband
(Quilt-age, being pressed)

Today as I made the bed I wondered why the heck I beat myself up that I don’t always catalog and take pictures of my many, many homemade creations. For instance since I last blogged about sewing I’ve made a ten-yard skirt and choli for bellydancing, a hairband, three pair of boxers, sewed up the Patterns By Figgy’s Beach Bum hoodie, finished a quilt top, and knit a hat.  And I’ve taken a picture or two, that’s it.

Taking photographs of my craft is another part of “after project clean-up” that I’m not always too thrilled with.  It isn’t just that I’ve got food to cook and people and pets to care for and laundry and scrubbing the toilet, etc, etc.  It’s that creations are springing out of my fingertips and I don’t want to slow down.  In fact my mind is like a runaway train and my body follows: I sew, sew, sew almost maniacally at times, threading and rethreading machines and slicing through the virgin beauty of smooth yardage.  It’s pure joy and industry.  There is no rhyme or reason to my methods: some projects are rather slap-dash and some are painstaking and detailed.  I unceremoniously pull shirts over the top of my kids’ heads, I give some of the work away to those who need or want.  I sew in a label with my name.  I re-fold and store yardage; smaller scraps I painstakingly cut into 3″ squares (I’m saving up these squares to make my kids a couple quilts, maybe upon their emancipation from my home) and the miniscule bits of fabric remaining are given to a local shop who sells them in wee bags to scrap quilters; the profits go to the local senior center.

Today I finished the Farbenmix Brooklyn shrug from a $1 100% cotton shirt I found at Thrift World.  It took about a half hour.
Brooklyn Shrug

I also used the same shirt for a hairband for myself.  And I still have quite a bit of the stripe left!
Hairband

One of the three pair of boxers I made Nels, all made from scrap and donated yardage:
Nels Poses

And finally: a visit to Olympia last night allowed me to buy some Fabric Porn (click on picture to know more):
Fabric Porn

The two fabrics that held a special place in my heart were the lemon and the Japanese-inspired waterscape. Today I look at the selvedge and sure enough: both of them are from Alexander Henry. I’d love to work for them. As in: they just give me a bunch of fabric and I say, “Thanks!” and sew with it. That kind of work. I won’t hold my breath.

Brooklyn, a tank top: repurposing

Killa Zilla

My daughter seems to love the little knit camisoles and tanks I’ve made her.  The Brooklyn tank top was the next project as listed in my Farbenmix sew-up project, and yet the weather is not really tank-top weather. I chose to make a double-layer tank, providing more warmth than it might first appear.  Yesterday Sophie layered it under a close-fitting jean jacket. She survived outdoor walks in the wind and indoor frolics in the dance studio equally well.

Sophie / Dance Studio Mirror

Good quality knits hold up well during their usage, do not pill, and have intelligible grainlines to work with.  Purchasing good-quality knits isn’t exactly easy unless you live in a city and know where to find them.  You can order online but then, since you are not able to feel and see the fabric, you are at a slight disadvantage.  I do order fabrics online, but when I am matching something I prefer to see them in the flesh.  Case in point: nine yards of silk velvet burnout are on their way to my house for a bellydancing skirt.  I won’t purchase fabric to make a coordinating top until I can carry a swatch of the skirt fabric around in my hand.

Back to this tank top: fortunately, finding very nice-quality t-shirts is an option where I live because we have a few wonderful thrift stores.  These shirts are from Thrift City here in Aberdeen and are high-end brands in Pima cotton.

At first I’d thought to dress this top up a bit.  I’ve been sewing a bit of Alabama Chanin projects – making an armchair pincushion for a practice run – and I thought to decorate the bodice with reverse applique.  After experimenting with both hand- and machine-sewn versions, I decided to just keep the shirt simple.  It wasn’t working out for me.  To put it politely.

Instead I added a couple subtle tucks at the hem of the outer jersey fabric to expose the dusty rose of the underlayer. The double-layer makes for a sturdy garment; the soft hand makes for a very cozy shirt for my girl.

Pink / Pink / Pink

This top was very easy to sew.  If you are a beginner sewing with jerseys, I might suggest using strips of stabilizer or a stabilizing spray when you are sewing directly on the jersey (my mother-in-law tells me you can dissolve scraps of stabilizer in water and use it as a DIY spray or paint to stabilize. I am sure this works, and it is cheaper than buying a stabilizing spray). Your aim in using these products will be to stabilize the edges of the jersey.  Such persnickety handling is not needed for the entire project; for instance, after you’ve attached the trim and are topstitching it things go easily without stabilizing (the woven fabrics are against the feed dogs).

This brings me to my favorite aspect of this project.  The notable thing about this top was the construction of the trim.  I chose to use a woven fabric on the bias, as opposed to a knit.  For any novice stitchers reading here, bias trim is made from long strips cut on the bias of the fabric and used at hemlines and seamlines or as detail. These bias strips serve as ties and trim both.  Using the bias is important, as only then will a woven perform a bit of stretch and can easily go around a curve; a strip cut on the straight-of-grain would not work well at all.

In this version, you attach the 1 1/4″ strip’s long edge to the right-side of the garment edge, flip the trim to the backside, and triple zig-zag topstitch all layers:

New Bias Trick For Knits
A triple zig-zag is a thready stitch, but such a great one with knits. You can pretty much use it with impunity. The results are a firm, slightly stretchy, and very sturdy trim application.  Given I have a very small stash of fabric, a project like this is perfect for using scraps to trim the top.

Tie Close-Up, Brooklyn Tank Top
¡Que bonita!

You can read a few more details in my Flickr tagset.

of needlesharp ire

Yesterday in my belly dancing class we learned to hold the veil and work with it while dancing. Holding the veil hurt the claw part of my hand, because I’ve been handsewing more of late.  The pain in my extremeties served a bittersweet reminder of my love and bondage; it spoke aloud of something that will be with me for the life I have, as long as I’m able:

Because I love sewing. Times one million.

I’ve been sewing since tempus immemoria, i.e. always.  And over the years I’ve been annoyed by, to some extent large or small, the following:

1.  The elitist, sizeist, racist, ableist, etc. buffet our current glut of craft books and websites are serving up. This needs so much unpacking I had to write up a separate post.

2.  “You should / could sell those!” Really?  Because I’ve never heard anyone say that before.  Or no wait, I hear it all the time.

I understand this is delivered as a compliment 99.44% of the time.  That’s cool.  And it’s interesting that from the lips of so many springs the concept that the ultimate compliment is deigning my work fit for commoditization or earning potential.  Huh.

A tip: those who sell things usually mass-produce them at some level.  This is not for everyone.  Some of us who sew shudder at the very thought of making two identical pillowcases (hello!), let alone churning out one after another diaper cover. Some sewists thrive on this sort of thing, sure. I personally know several. But when someone spies my crayon roll- up (genius!) and says you should sell those, they don’t seem to realize if I took their “advice” I’d be making a bunch of crayon roll-ups instead of other stuff, and the resultant item would be something that would either end up being more expensive than I could unload easily, or it would necessitate a whole wholesale fabric / factory-style construction / mailing center / production workshop.  And me making the same thing over and over.  And: no.

These days I simply smile and say, “If I sold them I wouldn’t have time to sew for my family.”  Ralph says I’m getting good at this.

What I say to other crafters:

“Wow, that’s fantastic.”
“How long did that take you to make?”
“Do you sell those?”
“I’m impressed.  How long have you been making those?”

3. “My mom/Granny/whomever used to make all our clothes.” Really? Did she do anything else, ever? Did she bonsai kitten you into a glass jar so you didn’t grow?

I have no doubt some moms (grandmothers, aunts, fathers, etc. etc.) did in fact make close to 100% of their progeny’s garments (though: socks? underwear? shoes? really?). However the number of times I hear this, I’m pretty sure many have exaggerated. Before I sewed a lot I used to say this about my own childhood wardrobe and I think I’ve even heard my mom say it. Until I look at the pictures in the photo album and yeah, I’m rockin’ some homemade digs but a lot of non-homemade stuff too.  To the extent cheap labor and crappy enviro-pillage occurs it’s currently a bit cheaper to buy ready-made (although not necessarily quality) than the materials and time-effort going into homemade.  This wasn’t always the case, though, and some people did used to sew quite a bit.

It annoys me to hear it because it’s all part of a conversation that cheapens the time and effort needed for high-quality, sturdy clothes. As if a half-hour a day thrown here or there could clothe a growing family.

What you could consider saying to crafters instead:

“My mom/Granny/whomever used to sew clothes for me. I loved (/hated) them!”
“How much time did it take to make that?”
“How much time do you spend sewing?”
“I seem to remember my mom made so much of our clothing. I wonder why so few do so now.”

4. “Will you make me one of those?  I could pay you [ some incredibly small amount for your time and the materials ].”

These days I will do it for free or not at all.  Because first off, again, my goals do not include earning currency. Secondly, if I charged someone a fair price it would be more than most people are willing to pay (trust me!).  So the offer of $25 for a full dress and pintucked pinafore, including fabric costs, is insulting (true example!).  But a request for a gift is flattering (I may not say yes, but it never hurts to ask).

5.  “OMG I would love to sew but I just don’t have time.”

Right.  I have loads of it to spare!  Why don’t I come over and do the rest of your lifework so you can sew, if you’re not too busy!

OK, no more sarcasm, but: Hey guess what!  I made all that time!  I elbowed other things out of the way!  It has been long, mostly joyous, occasionally hard, haul! It’s not like I just had time lying around!

6. “OMG, did you make that?  That is so cool!  I totally want to sew but I just can’t get past blah-blah, one time I made such-and-such, and everyone loved it blah-blah”

My sewing is All About You, so thank you!

7.  “You need new curtains?  Why don’t you just make them?  You can sew anything!”

FUCK YOU*, I totally hate sewing lots of things, including home dec, duvets, cushion-covers, etc. Just because I can make things doesn’t mean it wouldn’t kill my soul to undertake the effort (recent potholder-fail, I am looking at you!).

[ / asshattery, mine ]

* I don’t literally think “Fuck you” towards hardly anyone, it’s more like I think “fuck you” towards curtains.

Riviera, leggings: construction and fit in simple knit garments

Perfectamundo!

Leggings are, to quote Mugatu, “so hot right now”!  Even if they go out of vogue for the adult fashion set, they’ll always be practical for children.  You can use them for play wear, costumes, or pajamas, and they’re smart in the Northwest where layering clothes is de rigueur for our capricious weather swings.

Leggings come in about three fits (your terminology may vary): loose, fitted, and footless tight (or negative fit).  The Riviera leggings in the Farbenmix book are pretty much just what you might understand by the book’s photos – that is, a legging in between loose and fitted.  This makes perfect sense for children’s garments when you want them to last more than one season.  If you were sewing these leggings for an adult, he/she might not like such a relaxed silhouette.

Knit fabrics that work well for fitted or footless tight style will have a sufficient bit of “spring” to them.  This isn’t rocket science, and you can test it in the fabric store.  Simply pull aross the stretchy grain and release: you want to see a bit of “snap”.  You can certainly sew leggings up in something with less elasticity but they may bag slightly during wear – and if sufficiently un-springy (like a 100% cotton), they may retain a knee-shape (this reason is why I hate stretch jeans – even with a tiny bit of spandex in them, they are significantly looser at stress points by the end of one wearing).

Leggings are usually made with one pattern piece, roughly a six-sided kite-shape.  The top and bottom represent half the waist and the full leg hem, resp.  There is a front and back crotch curve at the top of each piece, and the long “kite” leg sides of the piece represent the inseam.

Here is my general methodology for leggings: reinforcing all construction seams, I finish each leg first (hems and all), then turn one leg inside out, slip a right-side out legging into it, and sew them together at the crotch.  I then construct the waistband, which is the trickiest part.  I will detail in the following paragraph but – don’t allow yourself to be overwhelmed, as a method will likely be detailed (with pictures) in any pattern worth its salt.

Reinforcing seams:

Reinforce Seams

To construct the waistband.  I first make a tag in the back of the leggings (otherwise simple pants, without a fly or pockets to guide you, can be tricky to tell front from back).  I cut elastic to the comfortable waist measurement (either using my intended, or taking a waist measurement minus an inch or two), stitch the elastic together at the short ends, and mark both the elastic and the pants hems in quarters.  I slip the elastic “loop” into the pants and pin at the quarter marks, pinning the stitched-together elastic at the back seam of the leggings (below photo, tag included).  Then I stitch the top of the elastic to the raw edge of the leggings with the legging fabric against the feed dogs, stretching the elastic as I go (I first take a few stitches before stretching to secure the seam).  You can use a simple zig zag or a three-step zig zag for the waistband stitches.  After the elastic is secured at the top edge I simply fold the whole business down to the inside of the pants, then stitch again, stretching the legging fabric again.  Easy – especially after you’ve practiced a bit.

Preparing To Attach Waistband

My methodology is more or less the methodology outlined in the Farbenmix book.  The waistband recommended for the Riviera leggings is sport elastic.  I used the 1 1/4″ channeled sport elastic I use for sewing the kids’ boxer shorts.  It’s very soft and supple and easy to work with.

Sewing elastic to knits is easy and, once you get the hang of it, very fun.  For instance, the dress Sophie is wearing in the finished-garment photos is a GAP size 0 rayon number we purchased for $5 at Pure Clothing in Hoquiam.  The dress, being an adult size, was too large in the chest and strap length.  I sewed the straps shorter, cut off the excess, and added some 1/4″ elastic to the top of the dress.  These alterations took about fifteen minutes together and now Sophie has a stylish playdress (if you want to watch a tutorial on sewing elastic to stretchy knits, Brian Remlinger, my favorite sewist to stalk, has an excellent tutorial of a fast, effective method).

I made only one ruche (pronounced “roosh”) on the leggings.  This is because I still do not have a rolled hem plate for my serger (my local vendor keeps forgetting to order me one) so it’s not all that fun to finish edges of fabrics that require slender hems.  I simply did a zig-zag; the fabric isn’t going to ravel or anything.  The busy pattern of the fabric also hides any less-than-professional stitch-business:

Attaching A ROOOOOOSH

My daughter loved the leggings – once she saw they were ready she changed into them.  They fit her perfectly both in size and in attitude.

You can read more details of construction at my Riviera Flickr tagset.


Tough.
Glee-Glee
Leap!

Imke, a hoodie: finishing notes

Keep It Like A Secret
The Imke hoodie was done yesterday and Nels has scarcely removed it since.

He loves the snuggly garment so much and so do others. Anecdotal: yesterday only a half hour after I’d finished the project we arrived late to our weekly Homeschool Sports session. I sat down on the bleachers next to my buddy-mama K. and after exchanging greetings I explained our tardiness.  “Something’s wrong with my car,” I told her. “We had to take a cab to make it here at all!” K. stared at my kids as they gambolled about on gym equipment. Looking straight at my son she said vaguely, “Oh? What’s wrong with your shirt?”, having substituted the distracting and awesome hoodie for the noun “car”. We had a laugh.  The diversion of my son’s garment was the sincerest form of compliment.*

At any rate, there’s surely not been a hoodie like this anywhere else.

Back Appliques

I was pretty quick-and-dirty with the appliques. Most of the Farbenmix enthusiasts’ treatment of trims and embellishments are different than those I used for this hoodie – from what I can tell, there garments are favored by the use of embroidery machines, sergers, coverstitch machines, and bright, professional-looking patches. I was pretty low-tech on this project, using a sewing machine rather than serger and cutting from quilting cottons for patches.  My methods are cheaper and look more “homemade”.

Using a true “patch” or taking a little more care in constructing applique makes for a more professional look.  The next time I construct such a garment I will take time with a method to insulate the thin cotton wovens from showing the garment detail underneath (methinks a form of light and thin batting would do the trick).

Quick Applique

For topstitching I merely performed a quick turquoise zig-zag around the applique, then re-threaded with red and performed a triple-stitch (which is how I got the thread bar so thick).

The hood shape is wonderful. It not only fits wonderfully and looks great, there are details in the book as to inserting elastic in the hood facing seamline. Very easy to do, and forms a subtle gather that keeps the hood on the head without use of a drawstring:

This Hood is FTW

Finally, a Kelly Hogaboom coup: the hood and lining construction. It’s hard to make a hood and lining without some kind of icky seam showing either in the inner or outer neckline. I did something rather goofy: constructed the hood and lining, leaving an opening in the straight lining seam. I sewed the face of the hood and lining together, then applied the raw edge neckline, one at a time, to the garment neckline (using the hole in the lining to pull the entire garment through when sewing the lining seam.)  I then turned the whole thing right-side out and stitched the lining gap closed. This had the advantage of a lovely, smooth segue from garment to hood – no topstitching required.

No one understood or cared about the above paragraph except perhaps Brian Remlinger, if he’s reading.

Hood-applying brilliance notwithstanding, I did make one mistake in the construction of it. Below you see the back of the garment, right at the inner edge of center-back hood and garment body (and handmade tag). Can you see what I did wrong? (Hint: only a sewing-nrrd could spy it!)

Hood Lining, Perfect. (Ish)

Nels is pleased with the result; as am I.

Tuffskin

For more details, the photos in my Imke Flickr tagset list a few specifics. If you have any questions, do consider posting here on the blog to help any readers who may come along at a later date.

On to the next project: the Riviera leggings. Sophie choose a wonderful stretch knit for the project, and they should whip up in no time.

* What’s wrong with my car? According to our car-monkey friend – and his explanation seemed savvy to me, peering into the workings of our 25-year old engine – the crankshaft pulley is loose and therefore not driving the waterpump. So no driving the car. For now. Public transit, bikes, and my mother’s pick-up truck FTW.

Imke, a hoodie: no-rules working with knits

Seam-Ripping
(Last night at dinner, Sophie volunteered to take the stitches out of the Imke hood; I’d decided to re-do the hood in the larkspur knit rather than the 100% cotton in oatmeal colorway, because the latter had rippled too much in constructing the pointed hood.)

In the case of sewing, I’ve learned there are no real rules. Whatever you can find to work, works.

I know this doesn’t sound like earth-shattering knowledge upon first read.  But keep in mind I’ve been sewing for some years now.  In the townships I’ve lived since I began my sewing craft in earnest, I’ve yet to find a real-life sewing community, people who get together and sew and share with one another (I’ve found lots of quilting groups, doll-making groups, embroidery goups and even knitting and crocheting groups – but no groups that revolve around garment-making).  Therefore most of my sewing hobnobbing has been through online groups – the place I go to show off my latest creation (rare, these days – I’m not clicking with anyone online), or get help when I’m stuck on a technique (about once every two months).

Concomitant to online sewing enthsiast verbiage and the occasional library book or Threads article comes a kind of elitist or rules-based vibe.  So in searching for how to add bust darts to a t-shirt, say, you end up reading about how “so many women don’t know basic principles of fit”, and how this-or-that pattern isn’t flattering and how this method of FBA is superior to the slash-and-pivot, and one should purchase this-or-that book and go through all the excercises to get a greater understanding of the whole business.

Ugh.  No really, I just want to make a pretty good shirt that fits my (sizeable) bust.  And now I’m tied up in knots thinking about the “right” way to do it!

Let me break it down in a way that will hopefully be less indimidating.

As you sew your garment, your goals should be:

1. Wearability (the garment fits you and is sturdy enough to stand wear)
2. Style (you – or your intended – has to want to wear it)

And that’s just about it! In whatever ways you accomplish this goal, you are doing it right.

That means if during construction you “cheat” by using hot glue, or by having a tailor insert a zipper – because you simply can’t do it yourself – or buying a kit of some kind of where the thing is half-made-up from the get-go, or using a bedazzler, it doesn’t matter. It’s better to have a success on your terms than a bad experience on someone else’s.

With respect to this stage of the Imke hoodie, I’d like to address the novice or intermediate sewist who is tackling a knit project.

Knits can be tricky.  They can stretch unbecomingly as you sew – and refuse to bounce back, leaving rippled hems and wavy seams. They can get sucked into the feed dogs (those are the jagged little teeth on the throat plate that move fabric along as you sew).  They can sew up beautifully only, when you attempt to wear the garment, you find threads mysteriously popping.

Should the potential pitfalls of knit fabrics deter you from sewing with them?  Heavens, no!

As relatively seasoned as I am, when it comes to sewing with knits I am not above using Technology, or that is to say, products with fiber and glue that help secure, either temporarily or permanently, knits and their seams, hems, or trims and appliques applied. Most of these products are inexpensive ($2/yd or less) and you only use little bits of them.  I used four such products in the construction of Imke:

1. A water-based stabilizer – This product allowed me to sew even stitches on my knit, then could be washed away after the garment was finished.  This product is also good for putting a small 1″ square underneath a knit seam as you begin to sew; it keeps the knit from being dragged under (so annoying!).

Stabilizer, Underside
The water-soluble stabilizer ensured my grosgrain ribbon “floated” on the top of the knit, as opposed to compressing or dragging while sewing.  That white-looking webbing?  Instantly dissolves in hot or warm water.

2. Wonder Under, a Pellon product – Think of a gossamer-thin sticky glue you iron to your applique or patch, then iron onto the garment. It is not enough to hold it for duration of wear – you have to stitch down the patch or applique. But it holds it in place long enough to be able to top-stitch with good effect.  Yesterday’s post included a picture taken after I’d fused one side of the product to my applique fabric and traced the shapes I’d be cutting.

3. Some nameless fusible tape similar to the Wonder Under, but less elegant (Walmart FTW!) – I used this for securing the grosgrain ribbon to the knit before I topstitched it down with a zig zag. I am super-proud of the ribbon effect, which I pulled off more beautifully than most anything else in this project.

Steam A Seam Sumthin-Or-Other
Use the fusible tape to secure (temporarily) the grosgrain to the knit. Loosely pin the stabilizer under the ribbon just before sewing.  Then topstitch with a zig-zag that does not interfere with the desired color effect you want from the ribbon.

Stripe / Stabilizer
Results (yes, Nels designed this hoodie with two different-colored sleeves!):

Sleeves, Finished

Eagle-eyed viewers may notice I added cuffs to this garment.  The construction of cuffs is simple and rather satisfying – look how nicely they turned out!  If you click on the above picture you will be taken to my Flickr page with a few details of cuff construction.  And that brings me to:

4. Knit interfacing.  “Interfacing” is a term for lining parts of a garment with either body or stiffness – like one would do in a button placket on a dress shirt, or a collar.  When it comes to calling a fabric “interfacing”, this usually means a thin fabric, either fusible or sew-in, that adds strength and/or stiffness.  Interfacing is a good idea on cuffs because they see a lot of wear.  In the case of the cuffs I constructed above, I used a knit interfacing with a bit of give.  However, the interfacing is stiff enough to pull the looser-knit sleeve in, leaving a deliciously sturdy and, dare I say, professional-looking effect.

Getting back to the issue of sewing with knits, my readers ask: can you sew patches, appliques, and trims to a knit fabric without the use of fusibles and stabilizers? It depends largely on the knit – but, in theory, you can. As I said in my last post, when messing about with knits you need to practice.  If you can make it work, go for it.

How do you know which products to use, and when?  Think about the parts of the garment you are embellishing or strengthening.  Because most trims, patches, and appliques are rigid, so sewing them to the knit may impede the stretch at that point in the garment.  Example: if the garment is a loose-fitting cardigan, sewing patches or trims anywhere won’t make much of a difference to the fit and function of the garment (and you may not need a stretch knit at all; an interlock or non-stretch knit may suffice – a recent coat I made my daughter was sewn in a knit, but underlined with a woeven, as it did not need to stretch to fit or wear properly).  But let’s say, as in the case of Imke, you are making a pullover hoodie.  You should not then trim the neckline with an inflexible ric-rac or ribbon – because it has to stretch to go over the head.  Do you want to trim the sleeve cuffs or leg hems?  Careful how you proceed: hands or feet need to comfortably slide through and wrists or ankles need to be able to move in comfort.  If the cuffs/hems are loose-fitting, then add trim as you see fit.

So, adding patches or trims to knits is no rocket science.  In the case of Imke, since the body of the hoodie is a relatively loose fit, I didn’t have to worry about restricting stretch with the large patch I applied to the back.

By the way: I ended up loathing the cotton rib knit, colorway oatmeal, that I’d initially felt so positive about (and got on remnant sale – $3 for a 60″ yard). I cannot wait to pass it on to someone else, as I have a significant amount of yardage left. I wish I could have made friends with this rib knit – which is soft, thick, and a lovely color – but as a 100% cotton it keeps stretching and stretching as I sew despite a handful of tricks I employwed.  One sleeve was more than enough exposure; I had some colorful words at the sewing table, which I will spare you here.

Finally: I tend to enjoy lots of decorative topstitch, even when it’s more or less lost on a rather busy garment.  Let’s face it, kids’ clothes are all about expressiveness, not sophistication (and I wish more adults would take this to heart in their own stylistic endeavors).  Employing topstitch details to delight my son’s searching eyes feels like Love to me.

Decorative, Hood Facing

Tomorrow: finished Imke!