Chaos

Or, why I'm not sewing this weekend.

My workroom started out life (well, not started out, the house has been renovated, remuddled and occasionally bastardized in its 100 years of existence) as a smallish bedroom with a built-in wardrobe. You can see the wardrobe frame on the right side of the second photo, leaning against the wall.

You can also see the nice alcove it gave me to install a worktable and move some of my machines off the cutting table.

I agonized over removing the wardrobe, even though it was no longer original to the house. The previous owner's mom had the back staircase moved in 1968, and it somehow or other (I'm afraid to think about it too hard) involved taking out a chunk of the wall in this room and making the stairs go straight instead of turning at the landing. It was actually not a bad idea - any time I bring anything large into the house, it goes through to the kitchen and up the straight back stairs - but in the process of doing that, they mangled the original built-in to the extent that I didn't mind further mangling it in the interest of sewing happiness and efficiency.

Also against the wardrobe was the fact that its doors opened in the wrong direction - the far door opened from the wall, which meant I couldn't put any storage under the window, and the near door opened toward the window, which was okay until the mirrored door fell off and almost hit my Juki. The day the door fell off was the day I decided it would be okay to do it my way.

Thursday night I got bored after dinner. I didn't feel like sewing at that point, even though I'd just cut something out the night before, and I decided to see what I could do in the way of getting some of the wardrobe taken apart. I'd already removed the doors and the interior rod and shelf back in April, when the door fell off. My demolition tools were at Mario's house, so all I had in the room with me was a 3" L bracket and my "lady hammer" - you know, the little one you use to bang in picture nails, not a hammer with any intent.

Beware a determined woman with the wrong tools, for it shall still work. By 9:00, the closet face was off, and I had also torn out the drawers at the base of the closet. I'd wanted to keep those, but structurally it wouldn't have worked without cutting the entire closet face to pieces, and I want to salvage the wood for another project.

Once I pulled out the drawers, one of which you can see sitting on my table in the top picture, I found . . . a chimney. In my closet. Now in my alcove. It must have originally been from the kitchen stove, and warmed the rooms at the back of the house, but it was severed about 1.5' from the floor, capped and concreted around. They balanced the raised floor of the closet on top of it, whacked in a few nails, and they were done. Now there's a chimney, just sitting there on the dusty hardwood floor, along with 10 packets of mouse poison, a lot of rubble, and one desiccated mouse skeleton. What the - ?

It's staying, of course. I'm going to scrounge Mario's old 2 drawer file cabinet to brace the counter top on one side, and build a frame to brace it to the wall on the other, and then I will have a workspace to put the coverstitch and the Juki, so I can have my cutting and ironing space back with only the Singer at the far end. Right now it seems like an endless task, especially since someone has waltzed off to New Jersey today to visit his family and left me with a 6' x 8' piece of wood framing that I can't actually move on my own (now that my superhuman demolition energy has subsided).

As for the countertop, it's a solid core door, and it's been residing in my dining room for about 3 months now. I just need to measure and cut it to size, and then drag it upstairs. Except I can't cut it until I get my jigsaw back from Mario's house. I don't think the wrong tools will work on this one.

Final shot: Patrones issue no. 266, top # 5, the pattern I had all cut out on the table when I got the sudden urge to destroy my house. It'll get there. As soon as I can find the table again.

Where do UFOs come from?

Last year at the Patternreview Baltimore meetup, Cidell sent me home with a whole stack of Patrones magazines. I'd asked to borrow one, so this was like Christmas come early. I traced off a bunch of patterns and sent the magazines back.

Some patterns I didn't bother to trace - I know how BWOF pants fit me, and it looked like Patrones ran narrower. I had no desire to re-invent the wheel, especially when I couldn't read the directions. I did, however, photocopy quite a few pages with patterns I liked, and this pair of Sportmax pants was one of the designs that made it to the keeper pile.

I liked the slouchiness of them, I liked the menswear stylingl, I liked that they were seersucker (and I don't particularly like seersucker), I even liked the cuffs (I'm short and generally don't - ever - wear cuffed pants). And I had some seersucker in the stash, provided by Gorgeous Fabrics. I bought it because it was the least seersuckery seersucker I'd ever seen. If that makes sense.

I started with the KwikSew shorts pattern that I'd just successfully completed. I liked their fly front and construction techniques, and I figured I could rework the pockets to match the Patrones illustration, add belt loops, and play with the length and width of the legs. I drafted the pattern pieces I needed, cut into my seersucker . . . and put it aside.

Until this week.

Why? They weren't going wrong. They hadn't even gotten anywhere when I put them down. It wasn't that the weather was getting cooler; I could have gotten plenty of wear out of of them before the end of summer. So what did it?

I have no idea, but after having won Patternreview's UFO contest in 2007, I tend to be sensitive about UFOs left in my workroom. If something's not going well, I let myself put it down to marinate for a while, but when I come back to it, if I'm still not feeling it or I don't like where it's going, generally I can release it to that great scrap pile in the sky with not too much regret. This pair of pants got under the radar and I forgot about them.

When I came across them last week, still draped over the back of a chair with the pattern pieces pinned to the fabric, I decided to give them one last chance before I chucked them out. Everything went together like I'd planned last year. I like the decorative band on the pockets and the wide belt loops. The fly front went smoothly, and even the waistband gave me little trouble.

These pants aren't necessarily something I'd make again - I was right, I am too stinking short for cuffed pants - but as a little something different for the summer, they're just fine.

Most important, they're no longer a UFO, lurking unfinished in the workroom, waiting to jump out at me when I'm least able to deal with them.

(Photo of me wearing the pants still to come - the timer on my camera is acting wonky and the photographer isn't available).

No Habla Patrones

Guess what? My Spanish-speaking friends don't Habla Patrones' Spanish either!

I got my first translation back today from my Latino newspaper bathroom buddy, and it's not all that much more clear than what I got from the online translation sites. Apparently (and I knew this but probably didn't believe it) Spanish from Spain is very different from the Spanish spoken in Puerto Rico, Columbia, Guatemala and Mexico, the countries of origin of the women who work in that office. My translation turned into a group effort.

One word, tapetas, stumped them all. I eventually managed to track it down online - I'm pretty sure it's a button placket. And since none of these women sew, I'm sure they wouldn't have known "button placket" anyway. I know English-speaking non-sewists who wouldn't know what a button placket was if it bit them.

I don't feel like I'm all that much further ahead on this pattern than I was when I gave her the instructions, but I'm sure it will help in the end if I get hung up on something. If nothing else, it's confirmed to me that as far as Patrones goes, I'm better off just tracing the pieces, cutting the fabric, and winging it.

And another Patrones

Pattern Description: Racer-back style top with v-neck, pockets.

Pattern Sizing: Patrones 40-48. I made a 42.

Did it look like the photo/drawing on the pattern envelope once you were done sewing with it? No, except for the racer-backstyling and the bodice. I left off the pockets (which I liked), and turned the top into a dress.

Were the instructions easy to follow? I don't read Spanish, so I don't know, although they looked pretty brief. It's a simple enough pattern that I didn't need them.

What did you particularly like or dislike about the pattern? I originally traced this pattern because I liked it as a top, and because I have a racer-back bra that gets very little use. It turned into a dress when I found out I have an occasion next Saturday - office party on my boss' boat down in Maryland - where I need a sundress. This meant I needed a sundress that would be comfortable for a 2 hour car ride, so that left out some of my more fitted dresses. I decided to give this one a try as a dress, and I like the result. When I cleaned out my closet this year I got rid of most of my older, shlumpier sundresses (you know, the kind that are comfortable and airy but look like crap), and this has the comfort of one of those without the shlumpiness (shlumpyness?). Whatever, it's comfy and the straps stay put.

Fabric Used: White, pink and orange cotton lycra cafe print from Emmaonesock (at least 2 years old), pink and black cotton broadcloth from deep stash.

Pattern Alterations or any design changes you made: Well, I changed the top to a dress, for starters. The bottom part of the top is supposed to be cut on the bias, which makes sense in their recommended cotton voile, but (a) I didn't have enough fabric for that, and (b) it was a directional print that would just look silly going diagonally. I left off the really cute gathered pockets because I thought it was just too much for the dress, and I put in side pockets.
I really, really wanted to use that EOS cafe print for the entire dress, but the reason I haven't used it in all its stashdom is because I really don't like pink near my face - my skin tone is just wrong for that kind of hot pink. So I scrounged through the stash and came up with some solid black cotton. I decided that the black needed some color relief, and I had some hot pink cotton left from an old project and I put together the bodice muslin out of the pink. It fit well enough, so I cut out a black bodice and ended up sewing the two together, so that I had a pink-lined black bodice with topstitching. I also stitched the darts in pink thread just to bring the whole thing together.

Would you sew it again? Would you recommend it to others? I might make it again as a top - after all, that was my original intention, and that way I could use the pockets - but not another dress. As a dress, I think it's a little too recognizable to make more than once.

Conclusion: Spreading the gospel of Patrones far and wide, this is another cute, relatively quick project that didn't need any Spanish on my part for it to turn out okay.

Patrones Feb. 2007, #45

Pattern Description: Sleeveless summer dress with front and back darts, V-neck, waistband detail and invisible side zipper.

Pattern Sizing: Patrones sizes 40-48. I made a 40, which is roughly the equivalent to a BWOF 38, which in turn is mostly equivalent to a 12 in the Big 4.

Did it look like the photo/drawing on the pattern envelope once you were done sewing with it? I think so. The magazinephoto was a white-on-white dress, so it was hard to see the details. The drawing was clear. My fabric is so busy that once again you can't see the details, but the shape is what I wanted.

Were the instructions easy to follow? Your guess is as good as mine. The instructions are in Spanish, which I do not speak, and even with Paco Peralta's list of Spanish sewing terms, I ran into quite a few words that I couldn't get. Patrones' instructions appear to be at least as bare-bones as BWOF - though at least when I don't understand something I have the excuse of not speaking the language.

One of the reasons I picked this pattern (aside from liking the dress) was I thought it would be fairly intuitive and I ended up not having any problems with construction. So I give them points for pattern drafting - everything fit together very well.

What did you particularly like or dislike about the pattern? During the recent PR meetup in Baltimore, Renee lent me an entire bag of Patrones magazines. It was like Christmas only better. Then I realized that I literally couldn't understand word one of the descriptions or instructions, and there the fun began. Let's just say that the free translation sites out there do not do an adequate job with technical words - when I tried to look up a phrase that (I think) was telling me how to apply bias binding to the armholes, I got a sentence that had the words "petty theft" in it. Huh?

Driving home, the car broke down but at least we had reading material while we waited for a tow. This was one of the first things that struck me, and I kept coming back to it. I liked the shape, I immediately thought of 2 or 3 fabrics that would work, and it didn't look too complicated. (I did, however, immediately lose the idea of the ball fringe trim on the original - while I do have a weakness for home dec fabric, I've lost the urge to deck myself out like Grandma's favorite chair).

Fabric Used: 100% Italian cotton purchased at Metro Textiles last summer. It's been waiting to be this dress, apparently; there have been two previous occasions where I almost took scissors to it, but changed my mind. This dress was a good canvas for the larger-scale design on the fabric. Ivory cotton broadcloth from my local store's remnant rack for the lining.

Pattern Alterations or any design changes you made: I think my dress is slightly more fitted than the one pictured, but it's hard to tell because the model has her arms raised. I changed the waistband, making it just slightly wider, and for the front I took a length of fabric double the length I needed, gathered it back to the shorter length, and ironed interfacing to the back. The band was edged in some bittersweet chocolate cotton I had on hand. I wanted some contrast, but the solid brown wasn't quite the right color, so I just used strips of it. I think it adds a nice touch. I left the back of the band plain and ungathered because I figure that most of the time I'm going to be sitting and the gathers would just get smushed anyway.

One major change: I'm pretty sure the instructions I didn't understand were for applying bias bindings to the neck and armholes, but aside from the fact that my cotton was a little lightweight to be unlined, I didn't think that was a good look for this dress. So I made a lining - my first completely closed lining, which was made easier because this dress is sewn together in two pieces, back and front. I put the lining and the fabric right sides together and sewed the neck and armhole seams, then turned it right side out and pressed. After that it was easy - I sewed the underarm seam first, to make sure it met up evenly, and then down each side of the dress to the hem. Then, I turned the whole thing right side out and pressed, and voila, no topstitching anywhere. The one pain is that the last thing to be sewn are the shoulder seams - I sewed the fabric (a little awkwardly because of the small size of the shoulder seam), trimmed and pressed it, and then hand-sewed the lining shut over the seam. What a nice, clean finish! I've always resisted doing a lining this way before as too much trouble, but it's amazing how you change your mind when all of a sudden it's the only option you can think of.

Would you sew it again? Would you recommend it to others? This pattern is definitely a keeper. It's a good basic shape and I could see drafting a sleeve for it and changing up the skirt length for a completely different look. If you can get your hands on this issue of Patrones, do - I traced 9 things out of this magazine. This was probably the simplest pattern I traced, but I thought it was a good beginning with Patrones, and I would definitely recommend it.

Conclusion: I think I love this magazine. There are even more patterns in each issue than in BWOF, and if nothing else, BWOF has given me plenty of practice in trying to think outside the box of skimpy instructions. I actually found it kind of freeing, being completely on my own with nothing but pattern pieces - I could do whatever I decided was right, without actually turning my back on the instructions. That being said, if you're not comfortable "winging" it, try to find someone to help you translate the instructions.

My First Patrones

While I loved almost everything in issue 253, February, 2007, I decided to make this really cute dress, no. 45, for my first project. I chose it because, aside from liking it a lot and thinking it was a good simple style to start out with, it told me it wanted to be made up from some brown and white Italian cotton that I bought from Metro Textiles last summer. It's been waiting all this time, and it's almost been made into several different things, but each time I stopped because I thought the pattern was too big, or the color wasn't right, or something. Well, now the color's right, the pattern's a good size to be spread over a longer dress, and I have enough white batiste left to line the whole thing. I think the instructions say just to bind the neckline and armholes, but I'm not that neat and my fabric's a little light, so a lining was the way to go.

I cut out the pattern in a size 40. I'm generally a 38 in BWOF patterns, and that's more or less the equivalent of a Patrones 40. I cut extra-wide seam allowances, just in case. First I cut out the bodice in the lining fabric - muslin as lining, or lining as muslin, however you prefer it. I basted the pieces together and the fit seemed good, so I used my muslin to cut out the fashion fabric. I didn't want any topstitching on the bodice, so I attempted my first closed lining and sewed the lining to the fabric at the neckline and armholes and turned it right side out, then sewed the shoulder seams of the fashion fabric on the machine and then hand-stitched the lining closed. I've seen this technique before but always thought it seemed like too much trouble. Except when it was exactly the finish I wanted, and then it wasn't any trouble at all. Go figure. It's all in what you want to do.

Although this dress looks very simple, it's very nicely designed. The skirt, both front and back, is a center piece and two side pieces, and the seams line up with the front and back darts. This was something I only noticed when I was puzzling out the instructions; since the photographed dress was all white I really couldn't see the details that well. Besides, I was too befuddled by the ball fringe they used for trim to look closely at anything other than the lines of the dress.

The fronts and backs are sewn separately - top, waistband, skirt, and then sewn together. This gave me plenty of opportunity to work on fit before putting in the invisible zipper and closing up the seams.

I had issues with the waistband. In the same fabric, it just looked busy. I had some solid brown cotton on hand, but it wasn't quite the right brown to use for contrast, so what I ended up doing was edging the waistband with the brown. I also doubled the length of the front waistband and gathered it back to the original length before putting on the edging. I thought that added a little interest and also cut the size of the big flowers around my waist.

Now's where the fun starts. I got the fit pretty much where I wanted it and opened the zipper drawer. No long white zippers. Only thing I had was an 8" white zipper, which I really didn't think would do the job. Pinned in a 22" brown invisible zip - long enough, but it showed through the fabric, so no. Pinned in the too-short white zipper and wiggled into the dress. It worked, though a longer zip would better. But the instant gratification sewist was at the machine, so short zipper it was.

I got the zipper in in record time, and thankfully the invisible zipper foot for my poor disabled Singer fit the Juki machine, so no problems there. Then I closed the seams around the zipper and sewed the lining seams. No problems, right? Then I tried the dress on. Or should I say, I attempted to try the dress on. It wouldn't go over my head. I got stuck. I pulled it off, tried it again, got stuck again. (Did I mention it was after midnight?) Pulled the dress off again, sat down to try to figure what went wrong. It became obvious in a minute and I wanted to smack myself in the forehead with a sleeve board. I'd sewed the seams of the dress closed around the zipper, but I'd sewn the entire lining seam shut. So I had a zipper opening, but no corresponding opening on the inside of the dress. I think that's carrying a closed lining a little too far!

This morning I picked out the stitches in the lining and tried on the dress again. It fit, and the short zipper would be okay, except. it. broke. Dammit. So then I had to pick out all the zipper stitches, and then I picked out enough stitches so that when I go back to work on Monday, and walk down to the store, I can buy a new LONG zipper and do it the right way. And hopefully the sewing gods will stop snickering at me. I know they enjoyed this one.

I was really excited about working on this dress. With a 3 day weekend to work, I'd planned on finishing it up and wearing it to work on Monday. Oh, well, instead I'm finishing off my denim shorts and attempting to find out what's wrong with my Singer machine. All I know is that the feed dogs are down and they won't come back up, no matter how much I curse, coax or cajole. I think I'll be taking a half a personal day next week to take Mr. Singer to the doctor. It's my backup machine and my favorite for buttonholes, and last time I checked, almost everything needs buttonholes. And if the machine doesn't have the capacity to move the fabric, buttonholes are going to be a little hard to come by. Dammit again.

On to something else, like finishing the flooring in the room that will become my closet. At least if I do that, maybe I'll sweat out some of the crankiness.

I leave you with a July 4th photo of Vladimir Putintat, the stray tomcat who lives on my front porch, celebrating his freedom to do whatever he pleases, whenever he pleases. So what if I have to step over him.

I've got the fever

Patrones fever, that is. And all thanks to Cidell, who was kind enough to bring me a whole bag of them when we met in Baltimore last weekend. I expected to maybe want to trace one or two from each issue, but oh, no, these magazines are dangerous. The first one I opened, I found 9 things I wanted. Out of 90-odd patterns. That's not a bad percentage.

My co-workers now officially think I'm a bigger nutjob than they originally believed, because every lunchtime this week has been spent at the conference room table with a roll of tracing paper and Patrones' little multi-colored pattern sheets (more manageably sized than BWOF, you don't need roadmap-folding skills to get these back into the magazine). I traced off six patterns from the first issue, deciding that the other three, while absolutely adorable, probably wouldn't get made because they wouldn't look quite so adorable on me.

I'm grateful to Paco Peralta for his list of Spanish sewing terms, which helped enormously on deciphering the pattern instructions. I actually made it through the instructions for my first chosen project (a really, really cute dress - more to follow) on my own, but after I strained my brain I realized that I work right down the hall from the office of Al Dia, Philadelphia's Hispanic newspaper. I see the girls from that office in the ladies room all the time and one of them offered to translate instructions for me when I needed her. I'm going to be taking her up on that. And soon.

Because I just ordered a subscription. I couldn't help myself, and it's so nice to find new ways to spend money on sewing.