Sew Photo Hop
So, that is August finished.
Usually I work solidly during August while my Chairman, and most the senior team, take off on holiday. I enjoy “holding the fort” and getting involved in anything that comes up. This month there was such an avalanche of issues I almost expired trying to deal with it on my own
So it was a bit of light relief to join the Sew Photo Hop on Instagram, organised by House of Pinheiro. I hadn’t really bothered much with Instagram before, so it was a revelation.
The best thing was getting to “meet” lots of new people, many of whom blog. And to get to know some well-known bloggers better. I will review the experience a bit more tomorrow.
The idea was to post one picture each day during August, along a range of predetermined themes. Here are the rules again.
- I said “Hello” while travelling to Ben and Mel’s for a barbeque. I was wearing my circle dress and sewing the hem of my H&M knock off.
- Can’t live without was my iPhone. I use it to communicate, as a camera, to stay in touch and even to play games on (when I am really bored). I could not have started a blog without it. All my pictures are taken on it.
- Colourful was illustrated with my two versions of the 1960s Kimono dress – blue, green and two shades of pink.
- For Work/play I used a photograph of me speaking at a conference wearing my YSL Mondrian dress
- For silhouette – I used my screen printing project of an actual silhouette.
- I used the circle dress as the “pattern that changed my life”; draping has brought a whole new dimension to my work
- Sew up close showed one of my painted linings
- Sewing playlist stumped me as I normally sew in silence, so I posted a picture of Dusty Springfield. Great music and dresses
- Stash is a bit of a cliché on IG. So I featured the amazing cupboard I have to keep my fabric safe and sound
- Would exchange wardrobe with – Linda Fargo
- Bucket list – I mentioned I want to make a kimono, in hand printed, painted or embroidered silk
- motivation – I described how I liked a difficult project and illustrated it with the brown chiffon blouse
- sewing space
- Style, to me, means Individual, Confident and Authentic. I used a picture of me with the children and their partners, and the babies. My husband, who kindly took the pictures, wants me to add that he is part of the family too. It is just he hates being photographed!
My family - My secret corner of shame – is a pile of unfinished projects that sits behind me when I sew
- Tiny vs big was an opportunity to compare the pattern for my circle dress with the pattern Galina used for the Yamomoto jacket
Tiny Yamamoto v Big circle dress - Proudest achievement – I posted my Vivienne Westwood jacket
- Sewing resolution – I promised to make a circular skirt or a yellow coat for Esme
- Boldest fabric was my beetle print
- For Learning and practising – I showed various family members learning to sew
- Shades of summer showcased some of my recent makes – the green halter neck, the teal lace skirt, my yellow jacket and a piece of handpainted fabric
- Last thing I made – Esme’s circular skirt!
- My favourite technique – maybe easing in a sleeve, but I put together some of my painted silk fabrics
Painted silk - Worst part of sewing – is when you make something and then ruin it. I dropped some fake tan on my white dress and haven’t worn it since
- Behind the seams – I am not great at finishing seams with an overlocker, or by other means. I prefer to use a lining.
1940s coat and satin spotty lining - labour of love – a Christening gown for Kit
- It’s been a while – I used a photograph of my 1986 black lace dress, and the smocked dress for Esme
- Trims and hab – my tailoring supplies
- Eye level – I suppose this meant to show something you are looking at. I was at my Mum’s so featured her house and hanging baskets
- Favourite era – guess which? Yes! I featured some of my 1960s makes
- Last thing I bought was £20 of fabric and thread from Abakhan. Review due soon
Tamotsu Skirt (Vogue 2034)
Previously I have written about “Wardrobe” patterns and “Vogue Career” wear. The idea hasn’t entirely gone away, and there are contemporary wardrobe patterns available, but the decade of the Career Wardrobe was undoubtedly the 1980s. The decade of the Power Suit – women in the workplace appeared to need a masculine look with padded shoulders and big hair in order to compete effectively.
Many of those 1980s “working wardrobe” patterns (for women who were powerful at work, but still sewed at home) are still available. Women no longer feel the need to do “power dressing” and many of those 1980s styles are too exaggerated for contemporary tastes. While the enormous jackets have mainly gone to landfill, many of the patterns survived. If you shop on eBay you soon realise that these are patterns that no-one seems to want – consequently they are inexpensive. For the price of one vintage pattern you usually get a wide range of work clothes; skirt, jacket, trousers and blouse, sometimes with a dress too. The number one designer for Vogue’s Wardrobe patterns in the 1980s was a designer called Tamotsu.
Tamotsu is a Japanese first name – like Jonathan, or Benjamin. The designer (1945-2013) who produced a huge range of patterns for Vogue during the 1980s was called Tamotsu Toda. He left Japan to continue his education in New York where he remained until he died at the age of 68. Although there is an understated elegance and simplicity to his designs, perhaps derived from his Japanese heritage and training, there is also a very definite American flavour to his patterns. If you have a look at the elements of his designs I think you would see that many are classics rather than 1980s throw backs.
Tamotsu specialised in classic, tailored but unconstricted outfits; soft tailoring at its best. His clothes became popular especially with women who were larger than average – he designed for everyday shapes rather than modeltastic bodies. His business focused more on buyers s14 (US) and above, using Italian viscose and imported natural fabrics to create fluid and luxurious clothes, that were comfortable and good for dressing up or down – true Minimalist style. His clothes were available in the shops usually in neutral tones plus red and navy, aimed at urban office workers.
He said “Sometimes I see people wearing my designs of 10 years ago. They still look good—I like that.”
So I pulled out a Tamotsu pattern (Vogue Career 2034) with a large 1980s jacket but a skirt I though might “still look good” 30 years later. It is a straight skirt with two pleats, pockets and a back pleat.
I used a nice, grey (actually woven with a black and white marled thread close up), soft suiting fabric remnant (about 70cms) that I think may contain both cashmere and silk. It frays badly but has a sheen to it when pressed.
There was enough for a shorter length skirt. It has stitched down pleats and pockets in the front, with a CB zip.
Here it is. It is terribly creased after a long day at work. I admit I could have done with a bit more colour – the outfit is rather bland. But it is soft and comfortable and just the sort of skirt I enjoy wearing. Classic. There is a tiny twist, in that the blouse is not exactly as it seems: while it tucks in at the front the back is cropped and flared so it stands proud at the back (and allows the air to circulate). I got it in the TopShop sale for £15, and it is an idea I may copy. One day.
Why I sew
My husband spent most of last weekend watching the cricket. Faced with a free weekend and no commitments I decided to sew for two days.
I made a few items but the solitude also gave me a chance to think about why I was sewing.
Here are my reasons.
- I am always seeking perfection
- This is what drives me. Don’t get me wrong – I am not a perfectionist, but I think I know what great looks like. So while I am happy to wear “good enough” clothes, eat good enough food, and to do as well as I can at work, I still have a vision in my mind of where I would ideally like to get to. This is my primary driver – my sewing can become a meditative act as I strive to be better. Of course if I worked on one thing – zips for example, or French seams – for days on end I might reach a very high standard. Unfortunately I would be bored beyond belief, so I try to improve incrementally. New projects are sometimes just about trying a new fabric, or a new technique.
Perfection
- This is what drives me. Don’t get me wrong – I am not a perfectionist, but I think I know what great looks like. So while I am happy to wear “good enough” clothes, eat good enough food, and to do as well as I can at work, I still have a vision in my mind of where I would ideally like to get to. This is my primary driver – my sewing can become a meditative act as I strive to be better. Of course if I worked on one thing – zips for example, or French seams – for days on end I might reach a very high standard. Unfortunately I would be bored beyond belief, so I try to improve incrementally. New projects are sometimes just about trying a new fabric, or a new technique.
- i enjoy the mental challenge
- There is also the desire to win, or dominate, or succeed with something that is quite hard. Not really, really hard like running a marathon, or always thinking before I speak. But challenging enough. I actually enjoy reading the instructions for something that I have not done before and puzzling it out. Or constructing a garment without a pattern or altering an item to fit. I get a great sense of achievement from this.
- I need a creative outlet
- I believe we all need an opportunity to be creative. Some people can sing or dance – I wish I was one of them. I envy people who can write, draw and paint. I am not much good at these things. I am not actually very good at sewing, or making textiles. But I do put in significant amounts of time and consequently I have reached an acceptable standard ie I can make something I am happy to wear. I like sewing as a hobby now that I have a degree of competence, and I shy away from things I am generally hopeless at – like skiing, for example. Making beautiful things is inherently satisfying and, as it uses physical as well as mental skills, it also provides a good contrast with my job (which is mainly about communication).
Creating
- I believe we all need an opportunity to be creative. Some people can sing or dance – I wish I was one of them. I envy people who can write, draw and paint. I am not much good at these things. I am not actually very good at sewing, or making textiles. But I do put in significant amounts of time and consequently I have reached an acceptable standard ie I can make something I am happy to wear. I like sewing as a hobby now that I have a degree of competence, and I shy away from things I am generally hopeless at – like skiing, for example. Making beautiful things is inherently satisfying and, as it uses physical as well as mental skills, it also provides a good contrast with my job (which is mainly about communication).
- I get nice feedback
- Most of my endeavour is solitary and I enjoy my quiet time alone. But when I surface I do like someone to notice what I have been doing, to comment positively on it, or if the work is not so good, to help me with suggestions on how to improve. Even though I am becoming more mature, my ego continues to yearn praise. I know how nice it is to receive compliments and I try to give as good as I get. This is what the “sewing community” actually comes down to, in my view. There is definitely some great sharing of expertise out there – I have many generous contributors who help me with my projects. But even more important is the affirmation we receive when we go public with our efforts.
- I like clothes, fashion and style
- I find clothes – their history, origins, cultural meaning and manufacture endlessly fascinating. A dress is never “just” a dress. I enjoy making clothes as it allows me to say what I want to say rather than what is created by another designer or company. I can wear something no one else has, allowing me to express my individuality. I want a good fit and more choice over colour, fabric and style
Dior Evening dress
- I find clothes – their history, origins, cultural meaning and manufacture endlessly fascinating. A dress is never “just” a dress. I enjoy making clothes as it allows me to say what I want to say rather than what is created by another designer or company. I can wear something no one else has, allowing me to express my individuality. I want a good fit and more choice over colour, fabric and style
- I make clothes that suit and fit me better than RTW
- The last reason is the one that women usually give for why they sew. But ask yourself this – if you had lots of money would you get someone else to tailor-make your wardrobe? And do you have plenty of clothes, but keep on making more? If so, like me, this is probably not your primary reason for sewing.
Why do you sew?
My Made Up Challenge
My pledge was to make a yellow coat for Esme, or a circular skirt from Neoprene. Embarrassingly I posted both these proto-projects on the blog; then procrastinated. When nothing much happens I find there is usually an underlying emotional conflict.
In truth I find it really hard to make clothes for close relatives, mainly because I fear rejection. Those of us who make things for our families put a lot of love and time into selecting a pattern, and fabric, then making it up, and trying to make sure it fits really well. We want them to love the jumper/hat/skirt/jacket. We probably fantasise that the item will become a favourite that is worn continually until it gets holes in it. “This velvet jacket? Yes – I love it! My Mum/Granny/Auntie made it for me…”etc. Conversely if they don’t like or won’t wear the item, we may feel hurt. I know I do, and I know it is my problem. But it tends to mean I avoid making things for those I love.
Quite deliberately I chose to deal with this issue as my Made Up challenge.
When I said I would produce something for Esme Sweatykniiter warned:
Making things for others can be fraught with danger! My daughter’s “style” seems to change monthly, and my grandchildren prefer to wear as few clothes as possible.
In fact I have been troubled by this issue for ages. On Artisans’ Square I asked CCL, who was sewing a whole collection for her husband,
Did he choose the styles/patterns himself, or do you know what he likes and extrapolate? I have a funny relationship with my family who want me to “make me something” but don’t really know what they want until it exists, then they have really strong feelings. At present my daughter has asked for a skirt and I am scared to make it in case she doesn’t like/wear it. How do you deal with this?
CCL generous gave me a full reply which you can read for yourself. In summary she suggests that when loved ones don’t wear the item it may be because they don’t want to ruin it, or because it doesn’t actually turn out how they envisaged it. I don’t think my children worry too much about getting a (ahem) patina on their outfits. But I do think she has a point about being able to “see” the garment in your imagination before it is made.
This is why so many people now use Pinterest, or similar, to capture a picture of something that they want.
The younger generation have their own ideas about what looks good, which are just as valid as ours. With my daughter I find we clash quite often on style issues, but I really respect her opinion which she expresses with the confidence of the instinctively cool. In an ideal world collaboration may be the best approach.
Made Up gave me a chance to experiment with consultation and engagement (a technique that I have learned in the workplace). We collaborated on this project, sharing some of the work.
It started with her emailing me a photograph of a brightly coloured, neoprene skirt.
I decided it was probably a full circle skirt, mid thigh length, made from fairly stiff neoprene, possibly supported by a petticoat. I was keen to get the fabric and colours just right. This wasn’t possible, so I considered painting heavy silk and backing it with something fairly substantial. I blogged about it and got some very useful advice. Then I procrastinated.
Actually when I found some inexpensive stretch cotton in Simply Fabrics Esme declared it was “exactly” what she wanted. The colour scheme is similar but it is not neoprene. We then set out to design the skirt together, and to my surprise Esme asked for it to be knee length. I had also assumed a wide waist band, and instead she chose a 1″ one. Most significantly the skirt droops rather than standing proud. So the eventual skirt does not look that much like the picture. But it is “inspired by” the neoprene skirt, and it does look very pretty.
In addition Esme did most of the cutting out and sewing herself, including putting in a perfect invisible zip. As I had struggled with putting a zip in a skirt for myself just the previous day (six attempts, and still not right), I couldn’t believe how well she had done this. I did the waist band, hook and bar and the hem.
I have fulfilled the promise I made to Karen. But there remains the matter of the yellow coat.
A skirt to match the halter neck
I made a nice halter neck top, using an old 1992 magazine pattern. I thought it was a really fun look and enjoyed wearing it to the Globe, open air theatre. I had around 65cms left and wondered if I should make a skirt to match.
A few readers suggested I should. Mary Funt proposed a flared skirt. But as I didn’t have much fabric I decided to make a straight skirt instead, using my own Curvy Pencil skirt with a grown on waist. As the halter top is a little bit short I thought this higher waist line might be preferable.
As you can see from the look on my face I am not impressed with the pairing. What do you think?
I love the top, and I like the skirt.
I wore the skirt to work four times last week with a variety of different tops – white shirt, turquoise blouse, grey layered T-shirts and a red, patterned blouse. With a variety of belts and shoes, the skirt felt lovely and definitely earned its keep.
But put the two together and what happens?
OK, I’ll say it – my hips look huge! The overall shape is like a wide based triangle. The halter neck emphasises that my hips are out of proportion with my relatively slender top half. Completely the wrong look for me. In fact the wide sash at the front draws even more attention to the hip line.
And the lovely, fresh fabric – which combines so well with greens, blues, white, grey, yellow and red – looks completely frumpy as an all-over look. Too much matchy is very dated, I fear.
I won’t be putting the top on with the skirt any time soon. In fact in the coordinated outfit I feel like an old Biddy, over-dressed for a barbeque.
Nevertheless it was an interesting experiment and I am glad I gave it a go.
How I made up the chiffon blouse
In order to prepare myself for designing and using sheer fabrics I bought a piece of silk chiffon and a blouse pattern (ostensibly) designed for sheers.
Here is how I got on.
Design
The pattern is my size (b34) and I checked the fit would be good, compared to my measurements. As a vintage pattern there is sufficient but not excessive ease in the pattern. There is not much shaping at the waist, but this is blouse designed to be tucked in. I elected to use gathering rather than pin tucks. I do want to conquer pin tucks and I think they will be a good feature in a sheer outfit, but I thought that with this pattern (one with gathered sleeves) that gathering was preferable.
Materials
I asked for advice about making this blouse and I got a lot about how to control it – from cutting it out and sewing it between tissue paper, to soaking it in gelatine. But I didn’t bother with any of this. Because I didn’t have to. When I practiced cutting and sewing the inexpensive silk chiffon I found it was fairly well-behaved. Chiffon has a little bit of crinkle in it and a matt appearance. In my view this makes it a pleasure to sew – it doesn’t slip around too much. But it is delicate and almost weightless and has a tendency to blow away. I hadn’t used it for a garment before, although I had used it as bias binding.
Because the cutting (I don’t have rotary cutters) was far from perfect I ensured all the tailors tacks were in. I find working to these is much more accurate than following the cutting line on unstable fabrics. So I got around this problem.
However I used ordinary basting thread and maybe it was a little heavy. Some books suggest marking with silk basting thread but I didn’t have any. For an experiment I tried ordinary silk thread too – it was nice and light but it didn’t really hold as well as traditional basting thread – which went in and came out easily enough – I used a small, fine, sharp hand sewing needle.
I used black silk organza as interfacing as everyone suggested and this worked perfectly.
The lace I used was the brown stuff I had bought. I do think black would have looked good actually, but what I did was stitch two pieces of brown lace together with a tiny zig zag onto a piece of black organza, using dark brown thread.
Construction
Before I started I research how to sew chiffon and asked for tips from you. Then I made a few samples to check how things would work. The French seams worked well, as did the organza interfacing. By using a nice new sharp needle (I only had an 11, although 9 was suggested), and good quality Gutermann polyester thread, I found the stitching uneventful. Thankfully I didn’t find my fabric being “pulled down the hole” as numerous people had warned.
Conversely I had an enormous problem with the lace, mainly because I didn’t really understand how to make a mitred corner. To cut a long story short, I attached the lace to the yoke assuming the mitred corners would be put in before it was attached to the bodice. Actually you have to mitre the lace first, then attach it. So I tried to detach it, but the tiny zig zag, the lace and chiffon refused to comply so I just chopped off the lace, threw out the yoke and remade a new one. I then had to remove all the stitching from the lace before I could start again. Long, tedious job.
I also prepared the sleeves. These are gathered into interfaced cuffs, and have a button-hole in them. When I tried them on I was dismayed because they were too tight. I do a bit of weight training and I immediately worried my biceps were overdeveloped. I wondered if in 1959 ladies had tiny upper arms. Eventually I twigged that the yoke means the shoulder seams are dropped and the sleeves will fit much lower down than I had anticipated. Phew!
I am avoiding attaching the lace, and doing the button holes. I am nervous. I will update you in a few days when I have tackled them.
Better luck with another Lace Skirt
My first lace skirt came to a very sorry end. I caught the skirt on a drawer handle. The Dinosaurs are extinct.
However I got the lace bug and decided to have another go.
Pattern
The previous copy of a RTW pattern has been binned. Although it was handy, and economical, to have a pattern that only required one piece, it led to other problems. This time I made used my skirt block, suppressing the front darts and making it flared. The back I flared slightly too, but left two darts for my curved derriere. With a CB seam I had more luck with the zip and hang of the skirt at the back.
Fabric
I chose guipure lace again as I want to conquer this type of fabric before I return to the dino-lace.
I chose a strong colour thinking it ideal for summer at work. I hoped that teal “peacock” green it might match my Westwood copy jacket. I bought it online from cheapfabrics, and was disappointed with the quality. Some of the embroidery was missing and the edges of the piece were really crushed. Overall it was cut badly on the slant, and was barely a full metre. I had already started cutting out when I found the problem and didn’t have the energy to complain or send it back. I pressed it carefully and managed to get the skirt cut out and I darned the hole.
This is one of the downsides of buying on the internet. At least in the shop I watch the fabric being measured and cut. If there is a problem I normally take it anyway asking for (and always getting) a little extra cloth or a discount. I am pleased to tell you that Nick Sabin, the owner of cheapfabrics, immediately responded to my complaint by offering my a further half metre, free of charge. Which I thought was very reasonable. I didn’t just buy half a metre, I bought two. More of that later.
I put the dark green over lots of different backings – navy, white, pink, bright blue, green, yellow and beige. The option I liked best was the white as it made the skirt look more vibrant. But all of the effects were nice! This is one of the most exciting things about lace – that it enables you to create your own personal fabric. I mounted the lace on white silk organza and finally lined using a shiny, synthetic, brilliant white lining fabric.
Zipper
I took the advice of Demented Fairy and Mrs Mole and used an iron on interfacing before putting in the invisible zip. This helped keep it nice and stable. You will see that my pattern matching is OK rather than perfect but I am learning! Obviously the white looks really obvious at this stage, but it blends in once the skirt is lined. Having the organza made all the difference. I attached the organza to the lace by stitching it all over with a green thread, Just a running or back-stitch, catching the motifs to the fabric. This means the lace is much less likely to catch on knobs and brackets.
The lining is put in at the end, attached just at the waist and (by hand) around the zip.
Hem
The reason I chose this lace was because I had had trouble with the dino-lace hem. I wanted a nice motif at the bottom of the skirt. Here you can see the organza comes well below the motifs. After attaching them to the silk I trimmed the organza away.
Lining and waist band
I used a broad piece of gros grain, as before, instead of a waist band. This is a comfortable finish and catches in the lining neatly.
Anyway I wore it to work. It felt nice and swishy, but heavyish at the same time. I really liked the colour over white and a few people said how nice it looked. I made the lining knee-length with a view to the edging just coming over it, but I think I made it a little bit long (I may alter it by lifting it from the waist up). I will make the final version end at the knee even if the lining has to be above the knee. I think I will keep going with a few lace items as I found it a challenging but rewarding project.
Lesley of Sewniptuck recommended a Craftsy class on lace, and Gail of My fabrication told me she listens to her downloaded lessons in hotel rooms when travelling. I have never tried one before, so I will purchase it and give you some feedback. My only experience with online classes was a rather poor Burda class. I hope I will change my mind after watching this one.
An ode to non-sewers
One of my readers, Mary from Oregon wrote to say:
” When someone admires something I have made, most times they will very sheepishly add: “I can’t sew. You are amazing. I should really learn…” They feel so horrible about themselves because they have never (up to now) produced a wearable garment. Why is that? When I find myself in conversation with a cheese-maker or a brick-layer I don’t feel bad about myself for not mastering those crafts. Why do women (it is usually women) feel so embarrassed that they can’t or don’t sew?
I am not sure about this one – an interesting question. What do you think?
I suppose the answer lies in women’s traditional role as mothers and housewives. Certainly, from what I have read, since the industrial revolution women have always done the domestic work – cleaning, making, washing and repairing clothes for the family; preparing, preserving and cooking food; and caring for children, alongside work that was close to home – looking after the animals or growing food, chopping wood, repairs and maintenance.
In modern society most of this work is specialised, socialised and commodified. Schooling, elder care, the provision of energy, food and clothing, is no longer in the hands of the household, but is generally bought in. Our food is processed (how many can brew beer or pluck a bird?) and most of our clothes are bought from shops. Women are alienated from some of the most basic roles they once assumed.
Freed from the burden of domestic drudgery, a result of large scale industrialisation, even the working classes found that they had leisure time. Now we spend our spare time cooking, looking after the family and the house, and buying things from shops, but we may have a little time left over for ourselves. No longer required to produce our own meals and garments, grow our own food or make our entertainment, some of us choose hobbies like cooking, dressmaking or allotment holding. As it is no longer necessary to fatten the pig for slaughter, nor to weave our own bed sheets, these tasks now becomes a pleasant pastime.
For the keen home dressmaker, constructing a blouse or jacket can take many hours. A factory can do it in minutes, but we take weeks (well I do!) to make something nice. This is not about economy. It may be about fit, style, non-exploitation, taste and preference. But essentially, it is a leisure activity.
As Mary notes there is nothing inherently good or bad about making your own clothes, or growing your own food. Being a really great cook, or a competent dressmaker takes time. I know I am still, compared to a professional, an absolute beginner, and learn every single day. The problem arises when people who enjoy these things, and become rather good at them, adopt a haughty, superior attitude. That sourdough loaf or a hand-knitted mohair jumper is seen as somehow morally superior to things bought from Marks & Spencers. Then rather than it being our pleasure and preference, sewing our own wardrobe becomes a matter of proving that you are a better person. Instead of spending hours watching The Sopranos, we spend hours basting two bits of fabric together. There is already too much competitive behaviour and envy in the world without allowing it to encroach on our sewing!
Perhaps?
We dressmakers don’t have the high ground. We simply choose to spend our spare time on something that we enjoy. Others like to sail, or ride horses. Some like casinos and fine wines. Many people enjoy long healthy walks with a dog. And lots of us, often me included, feel so exhausted by work, kids and life that watching TV or going to bed early is the best we can do. We all need to be kinder to each other, and ourselves.
Making a 1940s blouse (Vogue 8526) using jersey
In June I made a plan to create a few nice tops, perhaps some blouses that I can wear for work, ideally in luxury fabrics. I have avoided blouses for years as they seem to take an inordinate amount of time to make, they have lots of pieces, they need dozens of button-holes, interfacing, and the details – such as collars and cuffs – are tricky. And then when you have made them they need to be washed and ironed every wear, which is time consuming and exacting. But I think they look great – when it is warm I think they give the right level of authority when you don’t want to wear a jacket.
I found this reproduction pattern that has some good looks.
But then I found this rather unusual drapey blouse on eBay at a fraction of the cost. It looks fairly straightforward and claims it is “Easy to Make”.
The fabrics suggested are as follows:
- silk crepe
- heavy sheer silk
- satin
- rayons
- silk jersey
- transparent velvet
- metal fabrics
- novelty woolen
- soft woollen
- wool jersey
- sheer woollen
As I mentioned is badged as “Easy to Make”.
I avidly consulted the instructions, and Vogue c1940, I beg to differ.
This “easy to make blouse” requires
- Slash the CB neckline, create six bias loops, attach, face and attach six buttons
- It has bias finished open side seams
- over which a gathered “girdle” is created and stayed with ribbon binding
- the girdle has four loops and buttons at the CF
- the elbows are darted
- each cuff is faced and fastened with four small buttons and loops
- the ease in the sleeve heads is shrunk out
- shoulder pads are made, covered, bound and inserted
Phew!
As the chiffon blouse was a bit of an epic journey I am wondering if this pattern might work in a modern, synthetic jersey? If I made the neck a little wider maybe I could adapt this pattern to work as a light weight jumper instead of a blouse. Anyone tried something like this?
Cotswold House: Project update 0. 2
You may remember me saying that we are going to build ourselves a home. In the Cotswolds, on the edge of a lake.
First things first – we have given the house a name – Rainshore. This is the name my Grandfather gave to the house he built in 1929. The house was passed to my brother who sold it eventually, so this is a way of reinstating it, and remembering my father and his family home.
I mentioned work would start in six weeks. However the design development has taken a little longer than we hoped. And now it needs to be agreed by the Planning Department, so building won’t start until October, or maybe later.
But not to worry. We have spent the time really working carefully on every aspects of the plan. Want to see what we are going to build?
I read a lot of plans because my job involves the construction of homes. It is just like “reading” a dress pattern. You have to know some of the symbols, but mostly you have to have a sense of scale, proportion and the ability to construct a 3D view in your imagination.
This is not a huge home – it has four “bedrooms” on two floors. It doesn’t have a traditional garden (the open space is communal and very extensive), but it has a roof garden. Or at least an accessible flat roof big enough to eat out on, and sunbathe too. It is basically a modern design, a bit like a shipping container (which are used for homeless people sometimes). It overlooks a lake and is south facing, so as good as it get in UK terms, making the most of the 26 nice sunny days we get each year.
Starting from the left on the ground floor, we enter with a bedroom to our left. This (like most of the rooms) has sliding doors so that it can be left open to give a sense of space, and closed when visitors come to stay. In addition the bed (like most of the beds) is a swivel/pull down bed so that all the rooms are multi-purpose. We can use the rooms for our hobbies. This one is for my husband. It has an ensuite bathroom, and the staircase next to it. The next bedroom will have pull down bunks for children who come to stay. But it is also the laundry and utility room.
At the front of the house on the ground floor, overlooking the lake is our bedroom, with alot of glazing and a door to the outside, and a terrace for sitting out on.
The drawing in the middle is of the first floor. At the top of the stairs to the left is another room which can double as a guest bedroom. But this will be my sewing room! It has a pulldown bed, but also cupboards for storing materials. Although it is north facing it has a balcony with a door to provide lots of light and the chance to go out for a bit of the fresh air. The sliding doors to the living room would normally be retracted. There is a toilet and basin nearby so that visitors would not have to go downstairs if they were staying up here, except for a bath or shower. We are just trying to see if we can get a shower in here too. The large space is our kitchen-living-dining room. I expect to cut out my sewing projects on the large dining table which is of an ingenious design (more of this later). There is a large outdoor balcony area ideally situated (as they say in estate agents brochures) for outdoor dining and staring at the lake. We wanted the living room on the upper floor to give us the opportunity to look out at the lake and the wildlife.
Although there is underfloor heating and the house will be very eco-friendly, we have specified a wood burning stove in the sitting room. Although it may never be needed in terms of temperature, we like to see wood burning – it is a lovely feature.
The stairway leads up on to the roof in the third picture. We will probably plant some bushes to give privacy and shade. Nick is considering a camomile lawn. But in the end I think we will probably have wood.
So far, so good. There are a few more changes yet, but we are close to signing off the plans.
I will give you another update fairly soon. We hope to specify what the interiors will look like before we start on site.
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