Meh. A facing would have been a better idea.

So the dress for my sister's wedding is done. I've not slept well all week, and the dress is largely a result of insomnia-fueled late night activity.

I love the bamboo rayon stretch micro jersey I chose. It has an incredible drape, and it's luxurious. I don't know how else to put that: it's buttery smooth, fine, and it as mesmerizing recovery. It didn't drag or stretch out or otherwise misbehave, even though I gave it plenty of reasons to do so, what with my basting and hemming and un-hemming-in-favor-of-a-different-hem business going on.

I do not love that pattern. Ok, well, let me revise: I do love the final fit of the dress. It's not particularly full, and the structured hem Steph recommends for the Red Velvet worked very nicely here to give it just enough body. The shape of the neckline is flattering. The cap sleeves are cute. Hemming those little buggers is another story entirely, and I'd like to take you there with me.

I had the foresight to cut a neck facing for this dress. I guessed that without one, the neckline wouldn't be much interested in being hemmed. I didn't have that same foresight when it came to the sleeve. What's hard about hemming a sleeve?

Um, right. This is not your average set-in sleeve with a relatively straight hemline. The sleeve cap itself is cut in two from the front and back pieces. The bottom of the armscye is made up from the two side panels. And there are near right angles where front and side pieces meet. Yuck.

I tried a 1/2" hem, as recommended by the instructions using Steam-a-Seam. It created a mess. Luckily, I was able to peel it off because it didn't want to stick to my luxe knit in the first place. I decided to serge, turn the serged edge to the wrong side, edge stitch, and then anchor it with another row of stitching about 1/8" away. I got it wet and hung it to dry when I finished to hopefully reshape it and eliminate some of the waviness caused by over handling the fabric. This morning I stuffed it into my suitcase, and the next time I see it, it will be to wear it, love it, dance in it, not critique its finishes (certainly I'm not ready for anyone to critique my finishes right now as I accidentally missed my last hair appointment).  

To recap, I love the princess seams, the fit, the shape, the fabric, and even the length, but next time I'm going to have to do something drastic about the construction or general engineering of this garment. My neck facing isn't quite right - it still wants to flop to the outside, even after understitching and topstitching. My first thought is to split the back in two so that I can easily fully line at least the top with something like nylon tricot or at least another knit layer. We'll see. That may be equally weird, but I seem to remember having a RTW sundress at one point that had that kind of thing going on.

Now, off to the wedding!

Come out, come out, wherever you are: Cake Red Velvet Sewalong

It's time that I finally fess up to the entire Internets that I sew. It's nearly worse than when I was five and had to tell (and apologize to) the neighbors for picking tomatoes out of their garden and and throwing them at their house. I can still see the seeds dripping from the siding and feel the tears sliding down my cheeks.

Not that sewing is anything to be ashamed of. Certainly it's a heritage skill, and one can, with some effort, determination, mentorship, and acres of fabric to practice on, become a competent craftsperson. One might even fancy oneself an artisan -- I'll let the tunic and bodkin makers out there go wild with that term.

Sewing for me has happened in my basement, away from the eyes of the world*. In fact, I feel like I'm just to the point where I'm able to fool the world by sporting garments that I've made. Heck, one of the patterns I drafted. But, I still don't have a great deal of pride in what I've been able to accomplish, even though by all rights I should be proud. Isn't it funny how things work out: in my 20s I tried so hard to be alternahip, and now that I am actually peripherally part of a small, loosely connected community of amazingly skilled craftspeople, I have nothing to say about it?

That was before I ordered the Red Velvet pattern and vowed (not an epic, dramatic vow, but a conversation-with-the-pair-of-flickers-in-the-backyard-through-the-window-while-doing-dishes kind of a vow) to become more open about the provenance of my wardrobe.

I'm coming out, people, and this sewalong is going to help me through it: 1) because I've published the link to this blog to the Flickr group, and someone could read something I'm writing; 2) because I'm going to have to actually show people what I've made, people who are knowledgeable enough to recognize what's going well and what isn't; 3) because I'm under deadline; and 4) because it's about damn time for me to own it, nay, rock it.

One of my best early projects was when I lurked during the Colette Patterns Crepe sewalong hosted by Gertie. But, I'm not that person anymore, so no more lurking. It's creepy.

So here we are. I'm in Pearl House, and I'm finally ready for others to know that I'm here :)

*Except, of course, for blurry selfies that I send to my mom when I'm requesting fitting help or post here to keep track of what I'm working on

Sharing

I was totally game when my sister-in-law texted earlier this week to say she'd just come across a vintage Sears Kenmore sewing machine and she wanted me to teach her how to use it. She didn't know what she wanted to make, but she wanted to learn to sew. For herself. Because she needs a hobby.
My first question? "What are your thoughts about leggings?"

Friday night she trundled over, machine in tow. It was a steal for 25 clams. The machine runs smoothly, as someone in its past had been liberal with the oil and gentle on the moving parts. After some tension tweaking and some adjusting to figure out how the cams worked on this particular machine, we got a very nice straight stitch and a very happy zigzag.

My mother-in-law jokingly calls herself and her offspring The Tribe of the Stick People. My mother-in-law, my husband, and his two sisters are a lean, long-limbed, beautiful bunch. They don't show their age; there doesn't appear to be a stretch mark or wrinkle among them. With their flawless Mediterranean-ness, I'm sure that each of them has inspired his or her share of swooning.

Not surprisingly, thought, this body type has more than its share of fitting issues. I found as much when I finished the Western shirt for my husband earlier this fall. For my SIL, if something fits in the shoulders or waist, the legs and arms are never long enough. She's a beautiful woman who most of the time looks like a kid who is outgrowing her clothes. She was really excited to learn that we would be able to make her clothes fit if we drafted a pattern from her measurements. It's moments like these that I realize that we all have our baggage -- mine just happens to be carried in my butt.

While my SIL was anxious to get down to the actual sewing bit, I explained how taking her measurements would allow us to get out of that awful and frustrating "but it doesn't fit like it should nor does it look like the envelop" territory for beginning sewists. We traced out Cake's Espresso leggings, cut out a knee-length practice pair from the gobs of weird oatmeal polyester knit I have in my stash for such purposes, and she stitched them together with a wobbly seam. And lime green thread. She was beaming when she emerged from the bedroom after slipping them on.

She popped over today so I could help her cut out a real pair. She chose a stretch microsuede with a laser cut dot pattern, quirky, but very cool. I sent her home with written instructions for the process we followed last night, and she quickly sent me a text with a picture of her new pair. She's on the lookout for a second project, although I think there are going to be more leggings before then.

I'm really glad I could share a little bit of what I know. Now if only I could download my mom's (and posthumously my grandmas' and great aunts') sewing know how. Now wouldn't that be something?

Ack! An occasion! Leggings to the rescue!

My sister is getting married at the end of the month. This isn't a spur of the moment event, but it's been difficult to get much information about the ceremony and reception: is it indoors or outdoors? Is it formal or casual? The bride and the groom are kind of take-it-in-stride types, so this kind of planning, or at least explanation to guests (stakeholders) is rather foreign to them. My mom and I are more concerned with knowing the lay of the land and the specifics of an event such as this one. We even have our suspicions that their lack of forthcomingness is a secret plot to make us crazy (ok, that's just me). I've found myself wringing my hands (well, not literally) in the last week because it occurred to my sister that she'd like for me to do a reading. I'll not just be part of the crowd but instead a participant. The semester is well underway, and I don't have gobs of time to be reflecting on an appropriate Headwaters of the Mississippi themed reading, let alone guessing how I might want to dress myself (difficult for a normal day, but worse because I was looking forward to blending into the crowd).

I just bought fabric (one piece pre-washed and ready to cut, and I'm waiting on another to ship) for this dress M5890 | Misses' Jackets, Top, Dresses and Pants In 2 Lengths | Nancy Zieman | McCall's Patterns because after some alteration, namely a FBA and some adjustments to the bodice length, it's finally ready for prime time. Overall I'm happy with how it went together because it's, ya know, speedy. I wasn't as happy with the sizing as I was muddling through fitting it. Trying to figure out what size to cut took nearly as long as cutting and fitting my two muslins. Yuck. There's a ridiculous amount of ease built into this pattern, and I believe the seam allowances are 5/8, which is just annoying for a pattern intended for knits. Even with carefully comparing the actual pattern measurements to my measurements, I still ended up with a muslin that was more than 2" too big to be at all flattering or hang right. I'm also skeptical of the recommended neckline finish which doesn't include a facing.

But! Now that it's worked out -- and that was really my goal here, to have a princess seamed knit go-to -- it will go together quickly, and I've got a garment design that I'm going to be happy with. And I can stop grumbling about it.

Also, I just worked out a muslin for Cake's Espresso Leggings . It was a fab experiment, and I forsee having a whole drawer full of these things before long, probably in more variations than I realistically have opportunities or need for, but there's something to be said about the satisfaction of making something that's custom and that's generally awesome.

I'd hate to be underdressed for this upcoming shindig, so I'm thinking black knit dress and leggings with a scarf that includes a metallic thread or something else sparkly. I saw a string of pearls that I really liked. I think I'll order something interesting for the leggings, like cream with words or something else nerdy. My sister has made herself a nice cream evening gown, so we'll all be of a color family, and after the ceremony, as a literal extended family.