Week One: The Marie Skirt

After writing my post this morning about how much I heart other sewing bloggers, I totally rebelled against doing any work. But I did tend to the laundry, the overgrown weeds and my first week of homework for the OPB Sew Along!

I went to a new Joann's (there's so few fabric stores around me) and was pleased to find it decently stocked with apparel fabrics. I'm hesitant to invest in fabric because I've massively butchered projects in the past to the point that they're unwearable, so I scoured the red tag section. I found some lovely herringbone denim for $2/yard. It wasn't what I was looking for, but I'm smitten with it nonetheless. I'm hoping that 1) I don't screw this up, and 2) the fabric will be perfect to dress up or down.


So I prepared the fabric (I was even good and basted the cut edges before throwing it in the washer) and cut out the pattern. Am I ready for Week 2 or what?

Sassy Sewing Gals (and Guys): Inspiration from the Blogging Community

Those who know me know that I have a tendency to obsess. Since late fall, when I joined BurdaStyle and began following their wonderful blog, I have been religiously lurking in the style/sewing blogging community. BurdaStyle, in particular, offer patterns either free or at a nominal price, tutorials, and feature members and their phenomenal projects. It’s such an inspiration to see various takes on the same pattern. BurdaStyle’s blog lead to another and to another and now I’ve got a list of them that constitute my daily bread.

I recently got in trouble with the university for carrying nearly a 70-hour/week workload (which is why I post so infrequently). In a way it was a sigh of relief, a sort of real-life validation of my fatigue. Because so much of the work I do is solitary at all hours (most of which is done at home in my PJs), I tend to forget the hours I’m actually clocking.

So taking a moment from my days to read these blogs is a treat. I love the informal nature of the blog-o-sphere; there is so much voice and creativity and wit and humor (in contrast to some of the uber-fashionista blogs that can be a little snarky). Since sewing, like all my other interests, is solitary, I am relieved to read about the frustrations of other sewers and am utterly inspired by their successes. It helps me, more than ever, to appreciate the process. Beyond craft, I feel like this is simply a group of folks who care about quality, the reality and beauty of the bodies they have, and who, like me, are most likely to go to Anthropologie not on shopping sprees but reconnaissance missions.

I’m speaking too broadly, perhaps. But these bloggers make me want to sew. It’s dangerous ground actually, because sometimes I’m tempted to say: What thesis? I’m going to sew a skirt today! Sigh. I have to keep telling myself that the land of post-degree is filled with pretty fabrics and hours to play with them.

So, in order to share the inspiration, I’ve listed the blogs I hate to miss. The list is ever-growing, and I admittedly never comment (it's the old journo in me, I'm used to being the observer), but I’m going to change that. Briefly, in alphabetical order.

A Dress A Day is a manifestation of my dream to have a BurdaStyle Heidi dress in every color. Boo Dogg and Me makes me want to devote my life to sewing vintage dresses. The BurdaStyle, Colette Patterns and Fashion Gorgeois are wonderful resources for sewers of any level. Gertie’s New Blog for Better Sewing just rocks the party: everything from tutorials, discussions on feminism and fashion, and downright inspiration. One Pearl Button, another graduate student after my own heart. I’ve joined in the OPB sew along to whip up the BurdaSytle Marie skirt! I’m an avid thrifter, and Sew I Thought is so inspiring in terms of transforming existing pieces. Sew Retro is a wonderful depository for vintage-pattern sewers. So, Zo… I found via Colette and I just love her finished projects. Tilly and the Buttons is another beginner with sewing dreams (and lovely dresses!). verypurpleperson had me at her two batik dresses. I have very similar fabric from the Philippines and haven’t known what to do with it until I came across her blog. And finally, I’m aiming for a two-month Wardrobe Refashion pledge.

That pesky thesis calls. :(

My $15 dress form

What appeals to me about sewing my own clothes is the fantasy of having a perfectly tailored wardrobe. Though I enjoy the vintage wear that inspires many sewers, I could just as well survive on the plenitude of cute and cheap ready-to-wear. Let’s face it, sewing takes time, is ripe with frustrations for the beginner, and sometimes all that effort doesn’t pay off.

What sewing gives you, however, is control. You not only get to control the look (pretty fabrics) and style (the sewing pattern) of your clothes, but fit. For example, I just received my long coveted Beignet skirt pattern from Colette Patterns. On the pattern’s measurements, I clock in at a Size 2 Bust, Size 8 Waist, and Size 6 Hip. Where in the world of ready-to-wear could I find something that accommodates three sizes on my 5’4” frame?

Still, my apparel sewing has been lackluster because it’s been so hard for me to learn to fit garments correctly. I’ve learned to grade a pattern for my three sizes and have got my eye on tissue fitting and the book Fit for Real People. However, what I really needed was a “fitting assistant” and I most certainly can’t afford an adjustable dress form.

The germ for my $15 dress form comes from the extremely helpful Threads’ article, “Clone Yourself a Fitting Assistant.” I looked at several tutorials of this ilk and combined them together. I opted not to do papier mache partly because of the time element and partly because I wanted a form I could stick pins into while fitting. Here’s what I did.

1. Cut a hole in a garbage bag and put it over your head.

2. Have someone wrap you in tape. I used packing tape because it’s easier to handle. I made sure my waist and hip were well wrapped and the shape of my breasts were covered in a cross-my-heart pattern (shoulder to opposite rib).



3. Many tutorials say you should be wrapped several times but I have the world’s shortest attention span. Half way through I was asking, “Are you done yet?” Have your lovely assistant cut you out of it, along your spine. Hang your form on a hanger.



4. Check your measurements so you can adjust your form accordingly. For some reason my waist on my form was much bigger than my actual waist. I made notches on the form that indicated my correct measurements and secured the form at those notches (shoulder, bust, waist and hip) with pins though a strong tape like Duct tape would to the trick. I had to cinch in my waist with an old belt.



5. Stuff your clone with anything you’ve got on hand. I stuffed my bust with rags to keep the shape and the rest with a few 99-cent blankets from the thrift store.



6. Secure the hanger to the form with tape. Tape up the arm holes and the bottom.



7. Cover with fabric. This is another instance where my great plans went awry, so now I’ve got a clone cover that’s half-sewn, half-pinned, but it will work until I dream up a better solution and have the time. Some tutorials ask you to buy a pattern and sew a perfect fitting dress for your form. I may just buy a slinky casual dress from the thrift store and secure the bottom.



Ta-da! Between the tape and thrift store buys, I’ve got a $15 dress form. Is it perfect? No way Jose. Can I upgrade its shoddy exterior later? Absolutely. Will it be an incredibly sewing companion now? Without a doubt.

Sewing Disaster

I finally gave up at 2:30 a.m. The damn clutch was a bust.

Months ago, I’d seen a stunning clutch pattern—pleated and elegant—which reminded me of one of my dearest friends. She’s got this wonderful, 50s-esque style and I could imagine her tucking it under her arm as she ran out the door in a pencil skirt and high heels. I thought I’d make it for her for her upcoming 30th birthday.

Procrastinator that I am, that’s Sunday. Friday night, I finally gave it a go. It was an exercise in my limitations. And patience (though the clutch won).

I’ve been sewing long enough—I feel as if I’m finally ready to graduate from beginner to beginner-intermediate—to understand the need to do things right. Seven years ago, when I began sewing, I’d skip things that are essential to me now: pre-washing fabric, pressing seams, and if the instructions tell you to use interfacing, use interfacing! Clip those corners. I use the seam ripper less now than I use my turning tool or those nifty little knobs on my machine (all those stitches! All that control!).

But even if you try to do everything right, it can still go bust. Sigh.

As of now, the clutch is a flabby piece of pretty fabric, the warped zipper won’t close and is hanging limply off to the side. The seams of the lining keep kicking up their delicate tendrils of silk, which is getting on me and the zipper’s nerves. I don’t have time to re-do it. And now I have nothing to give my friend.

I started sewing again not only to tailor existing and new pieces to my burgeoning style, but to learn how to be a better sewer. So I guess, in the light of defeat, I can at least recount my lessons.

1. Never make something for someone that I haven’t made (and screwed up) for myself first.
2. If I fail (as I always do) to follow #1, have a backup plan.
3. Silk sucks. Don’t be tempted, no matter how pretty it is. I don’t like it, the machine doesn’t like it, and the zipper doesn’t like it.
4. Finish the edges of delicate fabrics before washing as half of it might come undone in the wash.
5. Don’t be afraid of stabilizer.
6. Interfacing is amazing. The pattern taught me to cut the pattern piece on interfacing, fuse it to the fabric and then cut it (the interfaced fabric) out. Time-saver!
7. I heart my *new* zipper foot.
8. When it’s time, give up.
9. Watching Whip It is a perfectly useful way to nurse my sewing wounds.
10. Drink tea, hide the evidence, get on with life.
11. No, really, hide the evidence. Otherwise I'll keep getting tempted to fix the unfixable when I've still got things like work to get done.
12. In the future, consider reconciling #3 with #6.

Inspiration: Apiece Apart, “Simplicity is a great challenge”

Someone recently pointed me to a New York Times magazine short piece on the design duo at Apiece Apart. Here’s a snippet from the article:

The concept behind the line is tantalizing: Eliminate clutter and confusion in your wardrobe and you will be happier. … To that end, [the designers] have created what they call a modular uniform: fluid, easy-to-wear pieces like column skirts in different lengths, and drapey silk blazers that eschew trendiness for versatility. Everything is designed to mix and match, so that if you buy an Apiece Apart blouse, you can rest assured that it will go with every skirt and pair of trousers in the line.

Check out the entire article and don’t miss the company’s website. I’m particularly smitten with the Fall 2009 line, which has inspired me to wear navy as a new staple rather than black all of the time. Their pricing is way out of my range (but as a student living on loans, most everything is), but I can dream until I have gainful employment. For those of you who can afford it, I envy you. These seem like the perfect pieces to invest in, for they'll last you forever.

What I love about the piece above: She’s wearing a navy dress, a black duster, and a navy blazer. These are basic colors that work well together and could be combined well with countless other pieces. The clothes seem to be designed with a good deal of ease (that means we can move, ladies!), but still look classic and elegant. The belt and bag (I’ve always loved that color of leather) set off the dark hue of the rest of the outfit and are also incredibly versatile.

Just lovely. Patronize them so I can live vicariously through you.