Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I can't wait to make something with this stuff from my grandmother. Love love love the legacy sewing.
It's good to be back. ;)
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
It was that bad.
For now, it's just piled according to colors.
The scraps and recycle projects have been contained - I even got all my scraps sorted into baggies.
I also discovered I have a good variety of lining on hand.
I have an extremely rough (kindergarten art) sketch of a storage system I'd like to craft. The way I see it, there are 4 essential elements to the fabric storage *working right to left:1. bins for scraps, 2. shelves (preferably with glass doors) for fabric that is best stored folded, 3. vertical roll storage for large yardage, and 4. horizontal bars to accommodate hanging smaller yardages of fabrics that shouldn't be stored folded. I think of the old fashioned tiered newspaper hanging bars at the library.
My muslin station is already pretty cool. That's tracing paper on top, and there are muslin scraps in the gift bag. You can just see my rulers hanging next to it. Note the glasses ;) !!!
I hear IKEA calling, so there will be more pictures as the stash storage develops.
I finally came up with an idea to practice my smaller silk painting in a portable way.
I used one of the styrofoam packing inserts from a toaster oven box as a mini fabric stretching frame. It can be placed flat over the design for "tracing" and keeps the fabric raised. The silk scarf, courtesy of Dharma Trading, is stretched across and pinned, it's the perfect size.
Speaking of other nifties, during my quilt making I discovered that the plastic template sheets that JoAnn's sells for $5 are the same as the 3-pack of flexible cutting mats you can get at the dollar store. (Cidell, hope you're reading this!)**************************
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
It's been twelve days now, stranded on this desert island- and there is no sewing in sight. The camera batteries died over a week ago. Lighting McQueen Bubble Machine and Kid #1's tv remote tried to donate, but they just weren't compatible. I fear it wouldn't matter anyway. There is nothing to photograph.
On day seven I spied a hope off the shore- it was the JoAnn's weekend sale. But alas, despite my shouting and frantic arm waving, I just couldn't flag it down. It sailed on by.
I have been scouting the island for anything that could be used in constructing the Amy Butler bags, but nothing here has a strong enough fiber content.
Kid #2's fever has finally broken after three days of madness and things too horrible to describe. I was forced to let another ship sail on by- the Jomar pleasure cruise. Through my makeshift lens I spied crazy knits, 2$/yard prices, and a deck party that included Karen and Kisha. Floating over the water came decadently bitchy laughter. I knew it from somewhere- Project Runway season one, perhaps? But the big ol' ship turned abruptly into the sun and disappeared.
I am separated from base camp, where the leather skirt is hanging, awaiting a major dart reconstruction. Even if I could cross the wasteland back into that region, I doubt I would have the strength to perform such a delicate operation in such an unpredictable environment.
I don't know how long I can hold out here. If I could just get those sleeves basted into the jacket, I'd have a chance at escaping... but everytime I make a move I am thwarted by the natives. I have yet to decipher their language- it's almost as if I am a god and a slave to them (especially that big one). I've discovered that they are distracted by high levels of ice cream and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson movies. I'm hoping that tonight, after cover of nightfall, I can make my move.
Captain's Log, supplemental:
see how his eyes reflected the light? I think he was rotating one eye away from the flash at the shutter moment.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
In all my sewing days (all 300 or so of them), I've never had a pokey dart.
I'm showing the rear dart, but all of them are poking at least slightly.
And the problem is that it's in suede.
and it's already been topstitched.
And frankly, I'm afraid to go in and start messing with it.
Everything seemed fine when it was flat, but as soon as I connected the seams (this skirt has one long horizontalish seam that spirals around) and pulled it on... well- let's just say I know my butt is in need of a few laps, but it's not got corners yet. And the muslin was soooooooo perfect.
So I'm stalled. I have a good idea of how to fix it, thanks to the PR boards again, but I'm not too eager. I have doubts as to my ability to pull this off :( And my machine is not happy. I tried to use the Trusty White from my mom to do the seams in the suede, but it didn't even break the surface. My Viking D1 is proving to be as tough as it is pretty, but as all tough girls know, the tough need a break.
In the eternal search for the AB bag fabric, I did come across some neat buttons that I would like to use for purse feet:
But no fabric yet. To be honest, I've read so much about the difficulties of the thick home dec fabric in the Weekender that I'm thinking I might just beef up some lightweight fabric with interfacing and go with it. I promised my machine a break after the leather, and I can't really find any home dec that I like. I'm thinking silk shantung. In chartreuse. With a baby blue liner.
or maybe I've just been looking at this dress (on PR) too long.
I'm thinking about stash organization. Have you seen this flickr site?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I'm prepping the leather for tracing as soon as I can see my cutting table again. cleaning. right. that's what I was doing.
Spread the love :)
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
That's my grandmother, Pell. Pell. Isn't that the coolest nickname? It's a blend of hers and my grandfather's names, christened WAY before the Brangelinas and Bennifers of the world spawned. I always thought it sounded so avant garde, like Wallis Simpson.
And, yes, the photographer (my grandfather) reveres her. Everyone does. She just has that royal thing about her. Feminine, yet fierce. She does only what she wants to, and those around her are only too happy to help her reality along.
Remember when Rudy checked for scuffs on her shoes because Whitley raised an eyebrow at her foot tapping? "The true mark of a lady is a clean heel". That was me with my grandmother. I watched elbows, tilted my chin up, generally tried to emulate the grace I found oozing out of this woman. In the fourth grade, my grandmother gave me handwriting lessons, and I was geeked beyond happy. And yes, it's quite lovely to this day, thank you. She taught us how to greet dinner guests properly. She also taught us the importance of being free-spirited. Only last year she burned her leg on my dad's motorcycle when she jumped on it in her golf shorts and keds. Like I said... fierce.
And like all fierce women- she sews. I've only been witness to some of her later projects, but they are exquisite. I've only recently gotten up the courage to ask her if she'd pass along any sewing stuff she may have stashed. I always love reading about other blogger's history pieces, like Karen's deep stash fabric. My grandmother made this dress for my daughter, the collar is lace from her wedding veil.
Sewing was always a strange thing to me- aside from my dad's uniform patches, I didn't see a sewing machine around my house. And sadly, it never occurred to me that sewing could be learned. I figured it was like math, you either knew it or you didn't. I'd heard the legendary stories of my grandmother's sewing. During a vacation at their house when I was about 11, I asked my grandmother if she would make me a dress. She replied that we would make the dress. I knew better than to show any sign of disappointment, but I really doubted my ability to make this a real dress. I'd seen the machine in her sewing room as I lurked from the doorway- she'd never let me touch that thing.
I remember looking for a pattern. I was all about the fabric. I just wanted to pick the prettiest fabric, and I recall my grandmother guiding me toward a little rack. Now I realize she must have been steering me away from some silky prints or some difficult chiffon I would have naturally been drawn to. I picked a pink and purple teeny floral printed quilting cotton. The dress pattern had buttons all the way up the back, with a low scoop neck, full skirt, and cap sleeves. I wish I had pictures. I can see it so vividly. I also remember grandmother's expression at seeing all those buttons. Now I have a better idea on that, too.
And not only did she let me use the machine, I pretty much remember doing the whole dress by myself. I couldn't believe she was letting me use this stuff! The serrated tracing wheel (won't it cut through?) and the seam ripper amazed me. And the dress was actually nice. But when I got home from vacation, it was back to real life, and sewing was never a part of it.
This two week period was lost in the recesses of my mind, only slightly nagging me when I went shopping looking for the perfect *fill in the blank*, and came home disappointed, wishing that I could make my own. Finally, 20 years after the dress with the buttons down the back, I remembered that I could.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Something in my subconscious is trying to blend me in with my background.
I didn't find any home dec for the bags at Jomar, but since I'd already dished out bridge toll, I figured I'd grab a $1 remnant. In the sea of remnants, this 2 yds of knit hooked me.
I tried to coerce this floral satin into being a coordinating liner for my AB bags instead of something with a circle skirt.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009