Squash Pinnie

More bibbed corduroy? More bibbed corduroy!

I feel like I’ve spent a lot on patterns this year (am I haunted by what I learned about myself by forking over $30 for a single pattern? Maaaybe), but I’ve also reused or outright copied a fair few, including the Pauline Alice Turia dungarees. These are a reuse AND a copy, since I based my modifications heavily on photos of Tilly and the Button’s Cleo + this tutorial.

I wasn’t too direct, by which I mean I didn’t bother with a front or back seam – why cut apart and then try to reattach and topstitch perfectly parallel corduroy wales, y’know? – but the general notion of a shortie dungaree dress with no waist seam agreed with me, and ’tis the season. By the way, I completely failed to notice I already have pants made from this exact same corduroy until I got it home. It cost $12.75/yard not quite three years ago; this time I paid an eye-smarting $17/yard. Eek. 

But I guess I know what I want! This is useful, when I can find it. It’s a little trickier when I can’t. Specifically, I struggled to buy traditional overalls buckles, even for ready money.

I could only find the hardware locally at Gather Here, and only in a Merchant & Mills pack with two buckles and a handful of rivets for fifteen extremely bold-faced dollars. My money’s not that ready! I don’t care if the buckles were forged in the fires of Mount Doom – I’m not paying $15 for $4 – $6 worth of hardware.

Then I remembered the extremely ragged pair of Turias in my mending basket. They’re not getting used any time soon, so I stripped the brassy buckles from those. Then I re-remembered ANOTHER pair of Turias, pristine in my giveaway box, so I swapped the brass buckles for their nickel set. And happily this shell game resulted in my ideal outcome, a nice cool silvery finish against the warm corduroy!

I’m pretty jazzed about all my finishes, in fact. This project was so fast and straightforward, and the sides so relatively short, that I decided to bias bind the seams. I think they’re just plain handsome. I left the top ¼” and the bottom 1.25” of the side seams unbound to reduce bulk when turning those edges.

I could have bound a little closer to the bottom hem, since I elected not to take that full allowance. But I bridged the gap with yet more binding so everything is still sealed and pretty. I did baste the sides together pretty early in the sewing process since I wasn’t sure if I was even in the ballpark of a reasonable hem length; I had already added 3” to the Turia shorts length, but I was prepared to use either a facing or extension as needed. In the end 3” was enough, but since I like sewing turned hems better than faced hems, another 1” of turning allowance wouldn’t go amiss.

Also, this basting check also confirmed what I had hoped – I wouldn’t need a side seam opening. It’s a wiggle in/wiggle out situation.

I’m really happy with the binding/corduroy combination! I couldn’t find a perfect match to the Kaufman corduroy color (Russet), but this Kona cotton in Roasted Pecan was darn close and it rang my tonal bell. I used bias binding to face the curved pocket openings and the side seam curves, following as always this Grainline technique, which wildly requires no ironing.

I pinned estimated pocket placements when I basted the front and back together, but ultimately moved them all a bit anyway. The original Turia bum pockets are small – these are a good 1” wider on each side, plus I only folded over ¼” before topstitching, and they’re still not huge. I widened the front pockets a smidge too, but just a little and on the fly.

My first needle broke when I was topstitching the patch pockets in place, specifically where the bias facing folded back over itself, but after that I switched to a fresh 90/14 needle and had no more issues.

I did a little sneaky Googling to figure out how the TATB Cleo dungaree dress was finished and found this very helpful blog post from Thread Carefully. One of the nice details of the Turia, though, is how the top edges of the front and back bibs are faced for a couple inches. It’s a stable finish that uses fabric efficiently. The Cleo facings looked like a fabric hog, so I stuck with what I knew. I also triple-layered the top front edge by folding the facing extension twice to support the rivets, and skipped interfacing.

By the way, have you ever had the experience of doing something you know to be correct and still being surprised at a successful outcome? That was me, lining the straps with quilting cotton instead of self-fabric. I trimmed a scanty 1/8” from one long edge of each quilting cotton piece and sure enough, the corduroy rolls to the back! It’s like…there’s a good reason I’m supposed to do stuff like that!

Anyway, I’m 1. Generally self-aware and 2. Specifically self-aware that I look like a butternut squash while wearing this, but I like it and it’s cozy and I’m happy and it all came out according to plan. With one exception: I have such a weird amount left of the corduroy – a full foot selvedge-to-selvedge, and a large additional rectangle. No clue how I’m gonna use it!

Luckily I love butternut squash! 

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Pattern: Pauline Alice Turia dungarees

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 44 bust/48 hip (estimated); merged bibs and bottoms; cut as skirt, 3″ longer than shorts; cut on fold; used 3/8″ seam allowance on side seams

Supplies: 1.5 yards of Robert Kaufman 14 wale corduroy in Russet; .5 yards of Kona cotton in Roasted Pecan, $29.30, Gather Here; thread, $2.39, Michael’s; hardware from stash

Total time: 6.25 hours

Total cost: $31.69

Plaid Flannel Tova

This dress had a long walk to the short drop. It’s lasted a couple extra years because I kept noticing it in, say, spring, and thinking “Well…of course you’re not wearing it now. Wait and see in the fall”, and then forgetting it existed in the fall, etc. I finally fished it out this fall and thought “Honey, you are never going to wear this”. I was surprised that it was less short and puffy than I remembered. But I’m still not going to wear it.

This is the Wiksten Tova dress, and if I remember correctly I got it as one of the patterns in a Perfect Pattern Bundle, a bygone fundraiser for charity that was similar to the Humble Indie Bundle. A handful of debut and early-career indie designers would each contribute a PDF pattern and you could get like 5 random PDFs in exchange for a donation. Usually there were one or maybe two I wanted, a couple I felt neutral about, and a real clunker I’d download just ’cause. That said, what do I know, because one year I considered the runt of the litter to be an oddly-proportioned pants pattern, and in hindsight those were the fashion-forward True Bias Hudson pants!

Anyway, however this pattern landed in my lap, I can see now I picked the wrong fabric for this project. The sample top in a thin crisp plaid is actually still adorable to me; my version might be plaid, but as much as I love Kaufman flannel, it’s not necessarily the right choice for a dress with gathers and lightly puffed sleeves and, ideally, sharp little bib corners. The combination of heavy flannel and this pattern makes for a doughy yet stiff finished garment.

The Tova dress did mark some meaningful firsts for me though! This bib was the first time I ever sewed inset corners; I certainly didn’t understand what I was doing, so that fact that I ended up with a halfway decent result is a credit to the instructions.

It’s also one of the earliest projects where I was aware of pattern matching as a possible choice, let alone a desirable one, so I did myself a favor and cut the bib on the bias. By the way, I guarantee you this happenstance was just luck!

I remember sewing the plackets in place and being startled and relieved that the plaid was level across the two – I had forgotten to plan for that, but luckily fabric stinginess had caused me to cut the placket pieces butted up against each other side-by-side!

I also remember trying on the dress the first time and feeling like a great big toddler. My mysterious attempt to fix this took the form of shortening and elasticizing the sleeves. Maybe I meant the dress to appear longer by comparison?? I didn’t do a great job at this. At a guess, I sewed the elastic into a loop, stretched it and attached it to the inside of the sleeve with a straight stitch, then folded it over to the wrong side once more to hide the raw fabric edge and topstitched it in place with a zigzag stitch. I guess I hadn’t learned about channels yet.  

I also zigzagged within the seam allowance to finish these seams, and while it’s not the most beautiful technique, it’s actually lasted!

Frankly I bodged it – I probably should have pinked as well as, or instead of, zigzagging – but in many ways that matter, this finish is actually…fine!

So I’m coming out in defense of bodge jobs, especially for early projects. I remember helping a friend sew her first garment a couple years ago. Looking back, I was too enthusiastic about stuff like French seams and understitched bias facings. I should have emphasized flexibility over finish. Unpicking perfect narrow French seams to adjust a garment’s fit is a pain for anyone regardless of experience! It’s not a reasonable expectation for a beginner that a new pattern/garment is going to fit correctly without tweaks, but I think my focus on polish implied that expectation. Anyway, today I would advise a new garment sewer to cut a little extra seam allowance and pink the edges when they’re happy enough. Heck, anyone can! There’s nothing wrong with a classic!

That said, if I can use French seams I probably will because they are beautiful and sturdy and je les aime.

It’s sort of fascinating to see my own development tracked inside this thing! Most of the older garments I’ve kept I’ve kept because I thought they were still acceptable, which meant they were most likely above-average in the era I made them. But this dress, not so much! I feel like it’s helping me remember what it’s like to be a beginner. Obviously I prefer to feel proud of the clothes I’ve made and finish them nicely and get a lot of use out of them, but there’s something valuable about revisiting this new-learner feeling within sewing too, possibly because I’m only ever going to get further away from it.

I’m still not going to wear this dress though. So toodle-oo it is!

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Pattern: Wiksten Tova dress

Pattern cost: ?? obscured by the sands of time

Size: all we are is dust in the wind

Supplies: all we are is dust

Total time: in the

Total cost: wiiind

Silver Bells

This is my first Fibre Mood pattern, the Faye dress! Ordinarily I’m a little hesitant to buy a pattern on a whim (I own so many patterns already!) but I got swoony for this design. Plus, I felt like I had a little pattern “slush fund”, since most years I have a wishlist for the fall/winter pattern sales, but this year I only planned to and did buy one (the Thread Theory Comox trunks – unlikely to be modeled strappingly in the forest on this blog, but it seems like a handy pattern).  

I feel like Fibre Mood just popped onto the scene all at once – or more likely I just got in the know! Beck at I Sew Therefore I Am has been sewing up a storm with their patterns (personal fave, this dress) and Carolyn at Handmade by Carolyn actually made the Faye (how’s that for credentials?).

Anyway, I decided to make several impractical choices simultaneously: I would sew a new Christmas dress (unnecessary) in a metallic fabric (what) from a new-to-me pattern company (why) that requires almost 5 yards of my desired fabric ($$$ ouch). 

Luckily, Mikey likes it I like it!

I styled this differently for our Christmas party – red ribbon for a belt, green shoes, and garnet earrings. But I was worried about wearing those earrings outside the house (they’re vintage clip-ons and sometimes one gives up its grip and I feel it slither down my neck) so this is a more restrained take on that same outfit. Yes. A staid sparkly swishy silver dress styling session. Indeed.

I’m happy with the pattern drafting and the final dress, but the process was NOT straightforward. First, you have to add your own seam allowances. I know this is standard for many companies and it makes it easier to manipulate pattern pieces, move darts, etc., but I am lazy. Secondly, the print shop file overlaps the pattern pieces, so you’d have to trace or print more than one copy for continuous pieces. The instruction layout is also no bueno. The cutting and interfacing charts are on the last pages, as is a list of seams to which you’re not supposed to add seam allowance. Surprise!

However, I can grudgingly admit it was kind of nice to choose my seam allowances. I added 3/8” because I knew I would be using my serger to finish. I didn’t add a hem allowance, and effectively removed the SA from the waist seam, too, after trying the dress on. And there’s some clever fitting details – the chest flap is not a tuck, but actually a separate pattern piece, and there’s shaping in that seam (front flaps and back yoke). Also, the size range is terrific! I sewed a 40 – near the top of some pattern ranges, but this one goes up to 58. Whoo! That being said, you can’t turn layers off and on, so some of the notches were impossible to distinguish. And there was no yardage listed for narrower fabric (for this size I used 5 yards. Woof). 

I think sizes in the 50s would be able to use 45” wide fabric, too, because the skirt is cut on the crossgrain. Something to be aware of if your fabric is directional. Mine has slubby ‘stripes’, mostly visible close up. I alternated grain direction in a quite a few places, mainly to conserve fabric. That skirt has an appetite for yardage!!   

I made changes when sewing, some more on-purpose-y than others! Some were simple mistakes, like accidentally using the neckline binding piece to make a rouleau hanging loop, so that workwear-inspired detail is now the silliest, daintiest touch.

Some were thoughtful decisions, like baby-hemming the whole skirt before sewing the front plackets to reduce hem bulk.

Or adjusting the pattern pieces to work with the pocket sewing technique from Threads #195, Feb./March 2018 (oh my goodness, these are my best inseam pockets ever).

Some were combo choices/mistakes, like changing the numbers of pleats from three to two and then signally failing to align them (see above, oops). Still, it was the right decision for my body – I was worried about the waist measurement, but I didn’t want to sacrifice pleat depth. This is your friendly neighborhood reminder to retake your measurements before taping and cutting a zillion pieces of paper, and not immediately afterwards, for some reason, yah goofball.

One was just a honking mistake. Here goes: first I finished the whole bodice but the plackets, then the whole skirt but the plackets. I went to join them, and discovered that I had trimmed one bodice placket and one skirt placket, as directed – on opposite sides. Well, dang it! I had a good chunk of scrap fabric left, so I trimmed the center bodice that was too wide, and added a new placket piece to the side that had been too short. I went to attach the bodice and skirt again, and discovered I had done it right the first time. As in, I had somehow flipped the pieces when pinning, and then went ahead and cut off the bodice placket extension that had actually been on the correct side. What’s a girl to do? Cut off the skirt placket extension, obviously, and cut a new one for the other side. BLERGH. I couldn’t believe myself. This is extra annoying because if I had planned ahead to do all this extra sewing anyway I could have cut the placket extension as a single piece and not had the multi-layered waist seam popping up when worn unbelted!

GIRRRL. Well, it’s nothing a safety pin won’t fix.

I’ve never constructed a blind button placket like these directions instructed, but the result was fine; a little bulky, but very neat. It’s a bit clever how they have you handle the flap, too – flipping it up and down to sewn a continuous line.

You can see that stitching line here, plus the seam on the edge of the placket where I had to reattach after my faulty impulse chopping. Also, the texture of the fabric. I used Kaufman Manchester Metallics cotton (plus Lurex, and I think a pinch of polyester). It’s mildly scratchy to wear but a dream to sew. Crisp, light, easy to handle and press, good drape but very stable. I saw it described as semi-sheer but it seems opaque to me!    

This dress is foolish, but dang it, also fun.  I haven’t figured out how to integrate it into my everyday wardrobe, but I’m considering separating the top and bottom halves. On the other hand, am I really much more likely to wear a silver skirt than a silver dress?

If I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know!

See you in the twenties!

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Pattern: Fibre Mood Faye dress

Pattern cost: $8.50

Size: 40

Supplies: 5 yards of Kaufman Manchester Metallic in Silver, $49.69, fabric.com; thread, buttons from stash

Total time: 11.75 hours

Total cost: $58.19

Summer of Love, Part Five: Farewell, My Lovely

This is my final post in the Summer of Love series. I decided to include one more outfit – not one that got worn publicly much, but one I made just for me!

Luckily I only travelled locally for the weddings etc., but when I did spend a night away from home, I wanted to wear something a bit more fun than my everyday jimjams (I had a sort of instinct that my usual grey tee/sweatpants combo wasn’t maximum festive). Rare Device has a lovely post on investing in the clothes you wear when you’re by yourself, and while self love or care has been monetized almost past recognition, I thought my celebratory PJs were still worthy of being the finale of my Summer of Love. Not to mention I spent several weekends after the binge lounging around and recovering my social appetite and you know I spent that time in pajamas!

This post is a little disingenuous though – because while I made this robe/nightie combo last summer, I didn’t make the robe really truly wearable until the Sewcialists announced the Over/Under theme month. So 1. Oops and 2. Hooray!

The pattern is Seamwork Almada, and I fell for it immediately on its release. Many robes seem to be a collection of rectangles, but I thought the Almada looked like an Erté illustration, like an elegant twenties egg. I also loved the double gauze Seamwork used for their sample. It took me a while to make this pattern since it called for 3 ½ yards of fabric, and I was saving my credit card cashback rewards until I had enough for the big dog – Nani Iro! This is a fabric from her (their?) Rakuen collection.

I sewed a size large, originally with no changes. I was surprised at the Seamwork directions; I assumed that a pattern that called for luxurious fabrics would also call for fine finishing. Especially given that it only has four seams, I would have recommended French seams. They didn’t, but I used them anyway! I also invisibly hand-sewed the bias binding that finishes the opening – easy to do on double gauze, because you can just pick up the inner layer with your needle.    

My favorite homemade bias binding is from this super-soft grey-green-khaki cotton that goes with absolutely everything.

I needed every inch of my yardage – that’s how I ended up with the printed selvage visible inside one sleeve cuff!

I swanned around in my finished robe from time to time, admiring the fabric, but I didn’t use it much as a practical thing. The ties were placed low and wide, buuut so are my hips. The robe required too much arranging and tugging and still wouldn’t stay shut. I wore it as intended for wedding travel because inconsistent coverage was better than none, but after a year of non-use, I FINALLY unpicked and reattached the ties. And only because of Over/Under month!

Half an hour of sewing to move the ties six inches up and six inches towards the center, and now my fancy robe finally fits!

Double gauze is soft and vibrant, it’s like wearing a whisper, and it’s generally easy to sew. When topstitching, however, a friend of mine described it as “like sewing bread”.

Not my neatest sewing ever, but eulalia! I can wear it now!

On the other hand, there’s almost nothing to the nightie – no special saving for fabric, no long-awaited sew, no last-minute rescue. Just a 7” lengthened Ogden cami from leftover fabric I didn’t have quite enough of to make daywear. It’s my all-time favorite summer nightgown.

Love strikes willy-nilly!

Thus concludes my Summer of Love! See you soon, I hope, for more everyday dressing. : )

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Previous Summer of Love: here (part one), here (part two), here (part three), and here (part four).

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Pattern:  Seamwork Almada

Pattern cost: $3

Size: L, with the ties moved

Supplies: 3.5 yards Nani Iro Gauze in Rakuen Flower, Etsy, $69.20; thread from stash

Total time: 5.5 hours

Total cost: $72.20

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Pattern: Ogden cami

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 8 at bust, 14 at hip

Supplies: leftover rayon poplin from stash, thread from stash

Total time: 2.25 hours

Total cost: $0.00

 

Summer of Love, Part Three

This dress was pants! Briefly! Well, culottes. This is the tale of its transformation. Welcome to episode 3 of the Summer of Love!

This was very, very temporarily a pair of midi-length Tania culottes, size L in old money. I’d been wild to make them for a while, but I rarely buy 3+ yards of fabric at a go. Happily Gather Here had a summer sale at the beginning of wedding season, and the Tanias seemed just right for an upcoming casual-nice engagement party!

I finished the culottes with about 18 hours to spare (maybe you’ve sung this song yourself) and popped them on for a triumphant fashion show. Twist!! I must have fudged the grainlines because instead of falling from the widest part of my hip, they hugged my leg to about mid-thigh and then abruptly belled out. NOT triumphant. Not even close. Triumph sent its sincerest regrets but would not be attending my legs.

Without a back-up plan, I unpicked the ol’ leg-bags and freestyled a dress. The culottes became its skirt. This was simple to engineer – I cut off the crotch extension of each piece and smoothed the waist, like so.

Then I pieced the skirt front and skirt back at the center seams. Since the Tanias are so full, that left a respectable amount of swing and flare, even sans crotch.

Unfortunately, I ended up with four little holes, from what used to be the ends of the big box pleats (the red dot on my diagram above).

Using about a square centimeter of scrap fabric and fusible hem tape, I ironed a jiffy patch to the wrong side of each hole. So far they’re holding!

For the bodice, I used the Workroom Social Tate Top (free to newsletter subscribers) in the cropped length. I had previously made this pattern as a scrap-buster. As a crop top, you can really squeeze it onto random odds and ends, especially if you add seaming. I got this from the culottes off-cuts with nothing to spare!

Rather than using a zip, as the pattern recommends, I divided the back bodice horizontally about 5” down. Then I cut the two upper pieces and hemmed the vertical edges separately for a simple opening. It closes with a thread chain and mother-of-pearl button, but I can get in and out without unbuttoning. I’ve definitely made versions of this with no opening at all, but you know your own coconut best!

Then I just gathered the skirt top to fit (it didn’t take much gathering), stitched them together, pressed that seam up, and topstitched. Crossed my fingers for another first try-on and hey presto! A dress!

With a handy belt leftover from a Halloween costume (I was an Egyptologist, Professor BF was a curséd mummy, it was adorable, we’re very proud), I was party-ready.

Oddly I find the Tate cropped length borderline too short for a shirt but definitely too long for a dress bodice! But by then I was sleepy. So I wore the finished dress to the engagement do, and then forgot to adjust it, and then wore it to other Summer of Love events – a bridal shower, another engagement party. It’s not quite fancy enough for a fancy wedding, but it worked great for these Bacchanals/Burning Mans/just kidding we ate finger food in a backyard.   

I wore my Halloween belt with this each time, but I might prefer it casually unbelted!

You know what – seeing this steadily and seeing it whole, I’m gonna tweak it again. I love the color and the weight of this fabric, but the bodice never sat quite right, especially in the back, and it’s a smidge tight at the underarms.

Once more for the chop, dear dress!  

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Previous Summer of Love found here (part one) and here (part two).

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Pattern: MN Tania culottes

Pattern cost: $9.50

Size: L, in the old MN system

Supplies: 3 1/4 yards Kaufman Essex linen/cotton in Seafoam, Gather Here, $28.60; zipper and thread, $4.60, Gather Here; button from stash

Total time: 5.25 hours

Total cost: $42.70

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Pattern: Workroom Social Tate Top, as dress

Pattern cost: $0.00

Size: 8

Supplies: disassembled Tania culottes + leftover fabric

Total time: 5 hours

Total cost: $0.00

Summer of Love, Part Two

Welcome back to the Summer of Love, where I share what I wore to the weddings and wedding-adjacent events that ate summer 2018! Inevitably, I made a Kielo. But this Kielo has a twist. I don’t actually like it very much!!

Ho-ho, it’s a GRUMPY twist. My feelings about this dress didn’t crystallize until I took these photos, in fact. Normally I forget unpleasant sewing experiences in the satisfaction of a finished garment, but when I jumped headfirst into this stretchy green tent they were waiting inside!

More on that later! First I want to talk about the jacket I sewed to pair with this, since venues are often too cold. Venues AND spaces are too cold. Sometimes areas too. Brr. It’s a Lupin!

Bonne journée, Lupin! Conversely, making this was a madcap ride of pure sewing joy. These were my first welt pockets and my first jacket lining. I had so much fun making this, I spent much of the time thinking of when I could make another. It almost doesn’t matter that I don’t like it very much either?!

I love it as an object, I just don’t love it on me.

The exaggerated lapels, the blousy back – it seems like too much fabric to me. Or maybe it’s the color? In an olive drab or a mossy green, I could see this working. This light blue isn’t as versatile as I expected. My Lupin is a straight size 42 and the fit is fine really but it feels (and I think looks) a smidge long.

With a linen/cotton shell and rayon lining, it’s the perfect weight for weather of about 55° – 65° F, which is a great transitional layer. Again, um, for someone who likes it.

 The directions were really clear; my only changes were to skip the topstitching on the lapels and omit the epaulettes. I also used two different lining fabrics, because the solid one had been gifted to me and the other…

WAS THIS MAGNIFICENT ½ YARD OF VERY EXPENSIVE RAYON. It’s gorgeous. That half yard cost me $10 and was absolutely worth it. I should wear this jacket inside out.

And it coordinates so well with this Fearsome Beast pin!

The upside of relying almost exclusively on blue and green for color in my wardrobe is effortless coordination, baby!

I felt very appropriate in this outfit. Picture that remark, in say, a Regency drawing room, and you might get a sense of how withering I’m being. Ms. Poundcake! Fie! It also packed well (an away wedding must) and clearly communicated my desire to be a fancy friend. It also also contains some of my junkiest sewing this side of a seam ripper.

Let’s talk turkey.

As seen here in this photo of me, apparently, playing a small invisible violin, the fit is fine. It’s totally acceptable! I’ve put all my points into fitting pants, so learning how to fit my top half has accidentally gotten nerfed in the meantime. Luckily I had the lead of Erica from Handmade Wardrobe to follow. I shortened the front bodice by 1.5” above the dart, the back bodice by 1” above the armscye notch, and narrowed the top back 2” total (1” from each center back starting at the neck, tapering to nothing about 6” down). I also raised the back split by about 2”.

Bunching at the front armscye/above the bust seemed to be a common issue with the pattern, so I was pleased to have avoided it! But then came…THE SEAM FINISHES.

The pattern instructs you to use bias tape to finish the arm- and neck-holes. Okay, fine, you can bias bind the neck. But the armscye is continuous with the side seam! There’s no division, just a notch marking it!

Ignore the incoming armpit hair and stick with me here. I guess it’s possible to miter the binding for that corner somehow, but I lack confidence with knits, let alone knit bindings, so I just serged the seam allowances separately, pressed them open, and topstitched – effectively turning them under once, which I repeated for the neckline so the topstitching would be consistent. Consistently stretched-out-ish. : P Not to mention the wobbly back seam and the bulgy dart points!

But my worst, worst sewing is at the top of the split. That split, elegant from a distance, is an uneven mess inside. It changes width, there’s some serging that just…trails off, and I had to snip into the seam allowance, which kind of stresses me out even when the fabric won’t ravel. I tried WonderTape for the first time (as in “I wonder if I’m doing this right, because I’m having a crummy time”) and it did not seem to improve my experience.

And in conclusion: PANTY LINES.

I had an un-fun time sewing this slinky knit and now that the un-fun isn’t being actively opposed by cheese boards and Whitney Houston tracks, I feel it. I just don’t trust a dress I can’t press with steam!!

None of this is to say you shouldn’t sew it. Heck, I’m not even saying I’ll never wear it again. Maybe time will massage my yucky feelings to indifference? Or even better, maybe I will Grow As A Person and stop caring? It’s not an A-plot level arc, but growth is growth.

So, no moral to the story. Not yet, anyway. But the dress did its job, and there’s only one way for this post to end…

Flying squirrel!!

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Previous Summer of Love found here.

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Pattern: Named Kielo

Pattern cost: $14.00

Size: US 8, with adjustments, above

Supplies: 2 meters bamboo jersey knit in Spruce, Blackbird Fabrics, $32.50; $4.41, WonderTape, Amazon seller; $4, thread, Michael’s

Total time: 7 hours

Total cost: $54.91

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Pattern: Deer & Doe Lupin jacket

Pattern cost: $13

Size: 42

Supplies: 3 yards Essex linen/cotton blend in chambray blue, 1/2 yard Menagerie cotton rayon lawn in Monstera Midnight, Gather Here, $36.40; thread, Gather Here, $3.10; vintage bemberg rayon, gifted

Total time: 9.25 hours

Total cost: $52.50

Summer of Love, Part One

Put your hand up if the following apply to you:

1. You’d rather get dressed than get dressed up.
2. A clutch of weddings either has or is about to rain down upon you.

I know the Year of So Many Weddings will seem like a safe harbor when I’m swimming with the sharks of Look at All These Babies, Do I Really Have to Remember Their Birthdays, but literally every weekend but one from June to October 2018, I went either to a wedding or a wedding-related event. And I wore the same few outfits to every last one of them! And so, honored guests, let me welcome you to the next few posts on my blog: what I, an un-fancy person, wore for chronic wedding attendance, a.k.a., The Summer of Love. Part One!

I have THOUGHTS about weddings in general (thoughts on thoughts on thoughts! So many patriarchal rituals! So much free labor, usually performed by women! So much dang money! But also the possibility of spending that money locally, often at female-owned businesses! Thoughtful marry-ees are working hard to erode the gendered baloney! Also I like passed hors d’oeuvres and theme parties!) which is why I look forward to never having one myself, but I do have fun at other people’s. I consider my main duty as a wedding guest to be 100% danciness all night long.

This familiar friend is V1501 (Rachel Comey mock-tuck dress for Vogue) and you’ve probably seen it everywhere. I saw it first on What Katie Sews and now looking back, did I make the wrong size? Hers is sassier! Oops, I guess your marriage is annulled, friends. ANYWAY, this satisfies dancing requirements: it’s comfortable, the skirt’s swishy, and nothing is going to pop out. That seems like faint praise, but it’s about as high as dress-up clothes are going to get.

I did have fun sewing this though! I used my favorite yarn dyed linen/rayon blend, Kaufman Brussels Washer in Redrock (the same one I used for my very first post on this blog!). The skirt is a size 14, and when I wrapped the waistband pattern piece around my waist I made the instant call to add 2.75” inches to its length. I must have made a bizarre tracing error, because the lengthened waistband fits me comfortably, if a little loosely (I could have added 2.25” and been okay), but when I went to attach it, the skirt top was 2” wider than that (but hooow?).

I added another 1” dart to each skirt back, so now there’s 4 darts in total. I’ll have a close-up later, but it solved the problem, even while leaving me, to this day, baffled and confused.

The skirt pieces are wider at the top than the hem! I’ve never seen this before! It makes sense, I guess – I’m wider at the hips than the knees. They’re seamed at the center front and center back, and the extra-wide front pieces allow for generous pleating.

Swiiish! I used the selvage edge for those seams, since they’re straight lines and I’ve never met a millimeter of fabric I didn’t want to scrounge and save.

I made a whole buncha changes to the top. I shortened the back bodice by 3”, topstitched the front pleats (why?? I don’t remember! Well, too late now), and raised the split at the sides by 4”. I did this little by little after the bulk of the bodice was complete, so I could push it juu-uu-ust to the edge of my bra. But if you have a cute bra you want to share, excelsior!

Consider them dancing vents! I made this adjustment to the angle from hem to side, to make it more acute. The width at the hem of the bodice is unaffected, but the side seams meet higher up. I think in my fabric choice this dress is right on the edge of frumpy, unless you have the drama or gravitas to carry it off. I don’t! I don’t wear makeup or heels so I was comforted and sustained by the little bit of visible side.

Naturally when I finally tweaked that angle to my own satisfaction it was also the time I hemmed the back inside-out. Tra la la. You can see the double darts here if you look closely, and the invisible zipper without looking closely at all! I still struggle with invisible zippers! Either you can see them, or I break them. This seemed the lesser of two evils.

I followed this EXCELLENT tutorial from Crafterhours to sew the all-in-one facing. I did skip the gussets and shoulder pads, so I can’t speak to integrating those with the facing! Finally, I took a cue from many bloggers who have sewn V1501 before, and sewed the top and bottom as separate pieces, joined by buttons on the inner waistband.

My buttonholes are not centered either vertically or horizontally because I was slapdash! That’s between you, me, and the mulberry tree. I can store this puppy on a hanger no problem, though. Flex.

I might use the skirt separately, with a tank or cami, for like…a summer fête? If I ever need to act ladylike on a riverboat? A grift where I pretend to lose the church roof fund and also carry a lace hankie? IS THIS WHY PEOPLE DRESS NICE?

More wedding guest outfits coming soon, in this the Summer of Love!

Pattern: V1501

Pattern cost: $10.29

Size: 12 top, 14 skirt, with variations, above

Supplies: 3 yards of Kaufman Brussels Washer Linen Blend in Redrock, fabric.com, $33.42; buttons, zipper, Gather Here, $3.60; thread from stash

Total time: 13 hours

Total cost: $47.31

Green Monster

♪Laaast Christmas, I wore this dress

And the very next Christmas, yeah, I still wore this dress♫

See also: my 30^th birthday and a murder mystery party. Dear the Internet, meet my Event Dress. Am I overdressed? Probably. Do I mind? Not so much. Do I shave my legs? Certainly not.

Once again I’ve blatantly copied an Allie Jackson make, which is funny, because she’s got such a clear classic/preppy/feminine slant and my style icon might be Gadget Hackwrench from Rescue Rangers (Google with caution, by the way. Image search makes it clear she has, ahem, a fandom). Anyway, I’m getting off track. Years ago Allie J sewed a lush, goddess-like, emerald green dress, and I wanted one too! Only the pattern she made called for 10 yards (!!!) of fabric, and even before taking my relative height & girth into account, that was not in my budget!

I’m not shy about spending money on quality fabrics for everyday clothes, but for something I would only wear a handful of times, I needed to scale down. Enter M7381, a dress with similar style lines, just a little less extravagance. From 4.5 yards I ended up with this, and enough scrap fabric to make an Ogden cami.

I used a rayon challis in a similar shade of green, and while certainly inexpensive, it wrinkles like heck. See these knife pleats?

Actually you don’t, because they’re vertical wrinkles I’ve come to terms with. Something about the length and sweep of this dress brings out my latent desire to stand like Madam X, but sewing was not un-fraught, if I remember correctly. This was actually my 30^th birthday present to myself nearly two years ago, but its season has come around again! Things I remember clearly from the sewing process: hating cutting the long skirt on my insufficiently long table, figuring out a way to cleanly encase the elastic in back that is now lost in the mists of time, and trying on the dress pre-sleeves and realizing that the raised waist/pleat combination was pure prom.

THANK GOODNESS for the sleeves.

Like I said, the back has an elastic waist (no other notions needed), and there’s a blouson effect. The bodice is fully lined. Somehow I stretched out the neckline; whether it was sewing on the bias, or the dress’s long periods of time spent on a hanger, what’s done is done.

The surplice neckline and high waist give this dress potential as a maternity/breast-feeding-friendly sew, in some sort of parallel universe where maternity also means cocktail hour. I mean, I am childless. But I’m pretty sure those things go together.

May we celebrate many more Christmases, dress! Someday I might iron you again! And to you and yours: may you celebrate in the way that makes you happiest, and the New Year only bring you joy!

Pattern: M7381

Pattern cost: $2.50

Size: 10

Supplies: 4.5 yards Telio Viscose Rayon Challis Emerald, $25.11, fabric.com; $3.00, thread, Michael’s

Total time: 11 hours

Total cost: $28.11

 

 

I never wear this dress

Well, that’s not strictly true. I sewed this at the beginning of the summer, but apart from these photos I’ve worn it exactly once, to my boyfriend’s birthday party. Whereupon I immediately dropped chocolate on my most protruding point, i.e., my bust apex. But what is this dress?

It’s the Vogue deep-V, of course! I sewed this in white Brussels Washer linen/rayon. I wanted to add a summer dress to my stable this year (mostly I wear shorts), and white linen = summer in mah brain. I was wooed by the many beautiful versions of this pattern online and a perfectly-timed Vogue sale. I thought this would be everyday-elegant but also capable of dressing up for summer events. A fancy-type workhorse. A Thoroughbred with a job.

NOT SO. Instead I’ve made a garment that’s absolutely disqualified from attending weddings, too pristine for my caveman eating habits, and a bit, well, Deep-V-ish for family events. I also have a moment of blank terror in the middle of pulling it on, each time, as yards of white fabric billow around me and I think oh geez am I in a cult?!

Rolling the sleeves tones down that effect. I had finished the shoulder seams separately, as instructed, by serging; when it became clear I was only going to wear this with the sleeves cuffed, I tucked in the serged edge and hand-stitched it to the seam allowance. The full sleeves look beautiful elsewhere. I really think it’s the product of the color and potentially also I have a mild case of Cult Face. Despite the choir/cult associations I do really like this dress!

As a belle dame sans cleavage I don’t need to worry about a bra for support. My bust is small and wide set, and it’s only PG-13 if I’m sitting slumped with my shoulders rolled far forward. I tacked the front shut in a couple places – I think the length of the bodice grew on the hanger (that skirt is heavy), but I didn’t want to stitch the front shut entirely, because I think too much decency would totally ruin the look.

The skirt is full and I like the length! Though in white, on my skin tone this is definitely a job for light, neutral bottoms. The inseam pockets are generous and are attached in such a way that they don’t flop around, but always lay forward, which adds a little coverage in front. Meanwhile, on the verso, I still haven’t stitched the hook-and-eye to the top of the zipper. I bought it though! So it’s fine. It’s fine! It kind of counts!

I French seamed everything but the shoulder seam (weird call, weirdo; it’s the only one that ended up visible). The hem is pretty small – just ½” turned twice and topstitched. I sewed this without any changes to the Vogue construction order/directions, but if I make another, I’d sew the shoulder seams first, then bind the front edges and back neck in one swoop, instead of hemming the front and bias binding the back, as instructed. I was worried about the neck edge growing, but I staystitched all the bodice pieces, and that edge is cut on grain, which helps. Bias necklines still make me nervous!

I don’t get a ton of wear out of this, so it doesn’t really meet the “sense” requirement of my “quality and sense” goal. I’ve thought about sewing the pattern again, maybe in a solid color (I’m obsessed with that Redrock linen/rayon), a wax print, or a drapier fabric. But realistically I don’t often wear dresses, even in the summer. Hey, though, if I ever get really worried about value for money out of V9253, I can always join that cult.

Once again, my boyfriend did the hard work of photography!

Pattern: Vogue 9253

Pattern cost: $10.50

Size: S

Supplies: 3 yards of Kaufman Brussels Washer Linen Blend in white, $24.00; thread, Michael’s, $3.82;, zipper and hook and eye, Gather Here, $3.12

Total time: 8.5 hours

Total cost: $41.44