No Pattern Left Behind: the Second Fabric Swap*

It wasn't quite the sunny, hot pre-Fourth of July weather I pictured. And to be honest, I wasn't quite in the mood to spearhead another swap, even though I had organized it. I just wanted to nurse a pomegranate martini and swing dance at Martini Park. However, I'm a responsible community organizer, so I follow through on what I'm say I'm going to do. So off I trotted to the Rogers Park Public Library with my box of sewing dollars, a loop of lottery tickets, and vintage Carson Pirie Scott yarns (one box Kelly green, the other black).

Even though I advertised the FREE event on Craig's List, I still only had about eight fabric collectors show up, a little more than the first event. I'm not sure if it was the cool climate, a weeknight or Americans were still mourning the death of Michael Jackson. Who knows?

In any event, I found myself enjoying myself once I unconsciously put myself into Zone. It's just so much fun to meet other sewing and knitting aficionados. In no particular order, I enjoyed meeting:

* Leslie, in her sweet black and white check homesewn halter dress, was waiting in the room next door with her box of patterns and fabric when I arrived with my supplies.
* Mary, who I actually know through her work at Big City Swing. (She's a dance instructor, particularly skilled at the Charleston.) I would never have guessed that she's a quilter although with her great 1930s retro dress style, it makes perfect sense. She left with a few tote/bag patterns, and fabric, of course.
* Calicosarah, who actually convinced me to bring back the box of black wool/poly yarn that I contributed. A consummate knitter, she had all sorts of knitterly knowledge that I'm only beginning to understand three years into the hobby. I admired Sarah's sunny yellow dropped-stitch scarf that she made from a skein of Lorna's Laces.

There were others that I didn't get a chance to chat with quite as much: Lee, Jess, and two other moms whose names escape me. I'm grateful that all came, and we such a good time, and came away with some new goodies. I personally got a fuschia knit and pretty trims from Calicosarah's collection, another swishy pink and blue sky knit print, and a watercolor woven. Sheesh! I'm all set until the next fabric swap.

I don't want to omit Ruth, my regular Vogue Fabrics free sewing demo partner. She was at the swap last time with her daughters. This time her oldest didn't want anything to do with the sewing dollars, which we incidentally didn't use. Not enough shoppers! Erin McKean was also there dumping an unfinished knitted sweater in addition to fabric.

Anyhow, some of you may know Erin is leaving Chicago next month for the lovely city of San Francisco for a new job. In Fabricspeak, she's leaving Vogue Fabrics to shop at Britex. I knew you'd get that. Anyhow, she's been very emphatic about wanting another swap before she departs. It has something to do with de-stashing. Does anyone fully understand that concept?
So I promised to organize another exchange to help her out. Next time I promise to make the event more inviting to knitters and quilters. You'll be able to bring knitting needles, YARN, and bags of fat quarters. How exciting can that be? Stay super-tuned while I return to the library to set a date.
* The picture above has nothing to do with the swap. It's completely gratuitous. These are two of perhaps a dozen smocked, unfinished dress panels now at Vogue Fabrics, in Evanston.. These two are in the remnants section, near the cash register. There are more hanging on the wall in the silk room. They're each $23.99, a little pricey in my sewing book. All you had to do to complete 'em would be finish the bodice edge and edges and stitch up the back. Done!

Appealing Appliques ($2 each!) and Simplicity 2584

I finally got back on track with my knitting project which is excellent because I feel another long bus trip coming on. Yes, my joints are telling that we are going somewhere soon somehow with a project too. I frequently tell myself I need the intellectual break of reading, but my creative side won't hear of it. Not even listen for a mere moment! Even though there are three library books at my disposal. Three!

I wish I were sewing though, which is a weird whim especially since I have a sewing machine within arm's length. I just need to turn it on. No, I want to be among people, purchases, and plum piping (yes, there's cording right outside the classroom door at Vogue Fabrics in Evanston.).

Anyhow, next time my fingers, the pedal and presser foot and I meet, I'd like to consider the above pattern. The pattern illustration had me on the fence, but this rendition has me thinking, "Yowza. I must make this!" and cast my thoughts back to the above applique at Vogue Fabrics (Evanston), snipped carefully in the middle. Same silhouette at the neckline facing in the pattern, by far easier to stitch, I'd imagine. I'd do mine on linen just as CostumeDivasDirtyLaundry did in her version. I'd make mine graze the knees so I wear to other places besides the beach....What do you think?

So Easy You Can Do It Too: The Minimalist Dress Panel

I took 20 photos, and this headless shot turned out the best. But this sleeveless, shirred bodice dress, along with its burgundy twin, has become my spring/summer staple. It's amusing, to me at least, how these two dresses which I made last year, spent the better part of the fall and winter slumped over a wicker folding screen. I didn't even bother to hang them, which says oodles about how I actually felt about the dresses. Don't you find that the tops, pants, etc. that you are so proud of sewing or knitting get the scooped off the floor pronto? I mean, they rest there for maybe a nano-second, and then Bam! they're back on a shelf more neatly folded than a chemise at Victoria's Secret? I know that's the case for me. I think my sub-conscious mind sees that all the labor, cost of supplies, adds it up and tells the conscious part: "No way, Jose, is that top I spent half the day Sunday sewing going to get dirty....Wait, this is so pretty. I love how nice and neat the twin-needle stitching is on the neckline. Gosh, that looks so good." I admire my work, smile, fold, stick item on top of other sewn goodies I love to wear, trip over dirty ankle socks on the way out of the bedroom, still more pleased than Wasabi nuts (I'd say peas, but that's so cliche).

Maybe I don't hang these dresses because they're strapless. I need to store them like they're skirts (which they can be if I so desire.) But I'm a procrastinator...so back on top of the screen they go when I'm finished wearing them for the day.

Anyhow, if you're so inclined to wear dresses like this now, you're in luck in more ways than one. I see similar ones on the rack at Marshall's. If you want to sew, here are a couple of supremely sewable dress panels: a baby blue version and a pink one. You could finish these off in an hour or so on a sewing machine. Here's what I did to mine:

1. Flip over bodiced edge. Stitched down.
2. Use over-cast stitch on a Viking Husquarna (not sure if it's mine or the one at Vogue Fabrics' classroom in Evanston). to enclose back seam.
3. Attach rolled-hem foot to sew and prettify the hem. If you don't have a rolled hem foot, you could simply stitch on matching lace for a different look.

Wear. Again and again. They travel well - any wrinkles incurred while smooshed inside look like they're supposed to be there. With the right shoes, this is so stylish. Here I am wearing same dress last year. What super-easy one afternoon dresses are on your sewing agenda now?

Busing It To Vogue Fabrics

I'm so lucky that I have about four different ways I can travel on public transportation to Vogue Fabrics. The most immediate, and quickest, is the Metra commuter (diesel) locomotive on the Union Pacific North line. The depot's one block away from home, I hop on, three minutes later, I jump off at the Main Street stop. Scoot down the stairs, cross the street west, half-block later I'm inside Vogue Fabrics. The other, more leisurely and more affordable way is to pick up the No. 22 (here I picked it on Clark near the Rogers Park Public Library).

I take the No. 22 to the end of the line at Howard Street, where I pick up the no. 205 CTA bus, which actually runs parallel to the electric rail on Clark Street (which becomes Chicago Avenue in Evanston). It's actually faster than the El train. It drops me off at the corner of Chicago and Main, across from the legendary new stand of the same name. I walk beneath the bridges for the El and the Metra trains to...

get to Vogue Fabrics, where I just looked at the fabrics, but didn't buy. I saw a new supersoft brown and tan flower print jersey in the $3.99 yard pile in the main room. It looks like it's going fast judging from what's left on the cardboard spool. Oh well. If there's some left next week after my next visit, I'll buy a bit. If not, it wasn't meant to be.
I took the Purple line (the electric train) to head back into the city. I actually prefer to take the aforementioned bus, but it wasn't in sight, besides, I was late in meeting a friend at the new Hop Haus restaurant. Two rides on two bus, fabric shopping (even though I didn't add to my stash), a burger bought with a $5 off coupon, great company, twasn't a bad Thursday night, even if it did rain a little. How many different ways can you get to your favorite fabric store using public transportation?

All Board: Next Stop, Vogue Fabrics

I've often talked about how I hop onto the train to go to Vogue Fabrics. My stop is super-close: a block away. If I time it right, I can get up to the platform in five minutes from the time I lock my door. Really. Then I board the train. I barely sit down in a seat before I get off on the next stop: Main Street, that's a half a block from Vogue Fabrics. It couldn't be more convenient. Really.

It's funny because when I originally moved into my current home I wasn't a sewing fanatic so I really didn't visit Vogue Fabrics. In fact, I'm not sure what got my rear end in gear to start going there (which I've visited as a kid with my mom). Perhaps it was the store flyer with the all the descriptions of the free sewing demos? That must have been it, because before I knew it, I was boarding the 6:52 p.m. northbound for the 7 p.m. demonstration in the sewing machine department. That has been at least 100 fabric acquisitions ago (according to my calculations, approximately 5 years ago). When I moved into my neighborhood, I was psyched about the possibility of getting downtown in 20 minutes, now I'm more jazzed about the chance to be in Evanston in mere minutes.

I try not to take my easy access for granted. There are few places in the U.S. that have the network of commuter rail lines that the metro Chicago area does (New York has a comparable set-up). In fact, you can take commuter trains (not Amtrak) from the heart of the Windy City to Wisconsin and Indiana. Absolutely amazing. Even better, on the weekends you can buy a $5 unlimited weekend pass (good for all Metra lines, except the South Shore) that you can use to your aorta's content all day Saturday and Sunday.

Another cool thing is that the El tracks runs parralel to the Metra rail lines. They're so close that sometimes I wave to passengers in the El cars when I'm on Metra. So far no one has waved back. I'm ever hopeful, however. I often think about how few places in the country even have two completely separate train lines, one diesel (Metra), the other electric (the El) running next to each other. Little kids on the trains with their parents get a kick out of this and smush their little noses on the windows, watching the other train go by.

So, often I'm like those children, waving to the train engineer, trying to get him to toot his horn (he usually does). There's one key difference. I'm carrying bags of fabric from Vogue, they're not. Smart kids!

How easy is for you to visit your local fabric shops on a train or a bus?

Oilcloth: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

This is an image I found in a Google search on oilcloth. Who wouldn't want some of those retro prints you see on the wall? I want to be an oilcloth rep dressed in a black dress with a white collar.
This is a picture I took recently at Vogue Fabrics, no lady in a dress in sight. A lot of fruit and gingham prints, not quite the way cool stuff you see above, but it's still great stuff that would be great for totes, table covers, lunch bags tomorrow. Take a look at this collapsible pet bowl. Very cute. The strawberry print oilcloth is $7.50 a yard, and you wouldn't even need a yard for this project.

Teaching Teens Twin-Needle Stitching? Easy McCall's M5512*

I'm quite proud of these leggings. They look so ready-to-wear. Actually much better than anything you would find in the Bloomingdale's legwear department, which really is the best place real-time to find something for the part of your body that enables to walk. Can I just say how pleased I am with these? My main objection is that they're a bit high-waisted for my low-rider taste. My fear is that my teen-age students will say the same thing. But I've no clue about how to convert them into low-rise leggings. Absolutely none. Hey, maybe my pupils won't care. High-waisted jeans and skirts are back. Why not leggings? I'm not sure even Hilary Duff, whose name is on this pattern, would dare to wear belly-button hiding accessories. I understand that bare midriffs are out of style unless you are Britney Spears up on the stage singing "Womanizer." I understand, sympathize and have no interest in showing off my naval to the masses. Even teens who don't want to wear cropped teess might have a problem. I mean, these might feel like a girdle to them! They don't wear full-coverage underwear, why would on the planet would they opt leggings cut the same way?

So I'm nervous about this. The complaints, the groans, the sighs, the shrugs! But I'm not about to alter the pattern, at least in a three-hour timeslot. We need to start and finish on the dot, which can be done because I did this past weekend. If you stick with the pattern. Ignore the instructions though. McCall's would have you make a casing and slide the elastic through with a safety-pin! That's just plain dumb. I cut a length of elastic, which I stretched out to fit my post-high school hips. Stitched that into a loop. Marked the elastic and the leggings waistband into quarters with blue chalk. Matched up those on the sewing machine, using the three-step zig zag. I'm not going to tell you how I finished it, because I think it looks bad. Here's what I'd do next time. With the sewn elastic flipped to the wrong side, I'd anchor all that down with a straight stitch (tension 4) on the outside, getting as close to the raised edge of the elastic as possible.

Here's another thing I'd do differently. I'd use the twin-needle straight stitching at the bottom (right now Steam-a-Seam is holding the hem together). Now I know how to use a twin-needle, but it took me a long time to figure it out. I had to get over my fear of breaking the dang things. I still get nervous about that even now. Anyhow, I know how to set up a twin-needle stitch, but I'm thinking this would be difficult for a teen to do in what's being pegged as a beginner's class. What do you think? Should I just tell 'em to use a zig-zag instead or are they going to get all cranky on me about it looking homemade? Please advise now, before I head off to a local pub for a pint of Guinness Stout.

Perhaps you're wondering about the flocked appliques. Those are iron-ons! Two of them set me back 50 cents. Such a bargain. I only wish there were more of them left at Vogue Fabrics, but last time I looked there were about three hanging on a wall hook near the business office. I'm heartbroken because I can envision these appliques on a gazillion other things - blouses, jean pockets, more leggings even a wool felt hat.

One more complaint about the leggings. I prefer mine longer, closer to the ankles. I could lengthen them (I think) by simply splitting the pattern at the calves, adding some inches with extra paper and them taping the whole shebang back together, right? For those of you who like to wear leggings, what style do you prefer? Fabrics? Embellishments? I'm toying with the idea of offering this workshop for adults in the fall. What say you?
* I made these leggings using a 1 yard remnant of supersoft jersey. Set me back all of $1.99!

On Grain, Off Track: Vogue 8405

Oops. I just realized that I completely forgot the best hat award for my millinery workshop on Sunday. I said in my class write-up that whoever wore the best hat to class would get a prize. I remembered to bring my box of candies and even my camera, but no goodies for the student with the coolest, most memorable chapeau. Actually, only one student wore at hat. That was Bernadette (Bernie) in the above photo. She blocked the hat she's wearing in another class. I was so impressed. I love the embellishment too - it reminds me of the Jessica McClintock Venice appliques that are all over Vogue Fabrics.

Anyhow, Bernie and the other student, whose name I forget, were all keen on making the fedora style hat (view D) from Vogue 8405. I, on the other hand, decided to use up this damaged fabric - black flowers bleeding blue on a white background, so I opted for view A with its large brim. We all set down to work well before the clock came close to striking 1 p.m., and didn't even come close to finishing our projects by the time the workshop ended at 4 p.m. This is what happens when you make a lined hat on a fabric with a grain. (In my previous class, one woman walked out with a finished unlined felt hat, minus the petersham sweatband. Impressive! She arrived early and didn't rest for a minute during the 3-hour class.)

Here's what we learned this past Sunday:

• The lay-out for view D is completely wrong. Nothing is on grain, according to the Vogue Patterns instructions. Not one part! So follow your gut instincts. Align the pieces with the selvedge edge as you would with a skirt, a shirt, or any other garment.

• Pre-treat your fabric to banish fold lines. My nameless student couldn't get rid of the fold lines in her fabric despite pressing, pressing and pressing. She ended up buying more fabric just so she could get started on her project.

• Hair canvas* is not an embellishment, it's an essential part of the hat. It gives the brim and crown structure. Next time I write up the class description I'll make it crystal clear we're sewing a hat from start to finish, not gussying up a storebought version.

• Finish the hat first, and then trim it. Otherwise, you might buy feathers, buttons and ribbons that just don't work on your completed hat, which truly might look just fine and dandy sans stuff. You'll save yourself money, time and grief.

• Have fun. It's just a hat, not wedding dress.

* The link is for $24 a yard of pricey hair canvas. Rest assured, it also can be found for about $7 a yard, on sale, at Vogue Fabrics.

Hello Again, It's Been A While: Vogue 8405*

So I pick up the phone to call Vogue Fabrics. Just to check in on my hat-making class on Sunday. Last I heard there was no one in the class. So I'm fully expecting to cancel the class. You know, just double-checking, checking it off my Friday list of things to do. I punch the Vogue Fabrics number, which I don't know really by aorta. Really, what's in the sense of memorizing numbers that are programmed into my cell phone but not my landline?
"Vogue Fabrics."
"Is this the business office?"
"It is."
"Oh, is this Evelyn? Hi."
She responds likewise. Nice lady.
"I'm just checking in on my hat-making class. How many sign-ups do I have?"
"Three."
I'm just stunned, like I'm just been told I've won Lotto when I didn't buy a ticket.Blindsided! A week or so ago, last time I caught up with Evelyn, there was no one was in my hat class, but there were two in my leggings workshop. People have their priorities in order these days: learn how to make something that covers the legs, who cares about the head?
"Three people are in my class on Sunday?"
I didn't know this. In fact, if I hadn't called for a status report, where would I have been on Sunday afternoon? Yes! Vogue Fabrics, minus my hat and supplies, working on yet another pair of panties. It takes a moment or two to digest this information. I realize I'm not prepared just yet to teach millinery. Yes, I have the pattern, but I haven't made the hat. I thank Evelyn, hang up the phone. Sheesh, now I'm going to have to spend the better part of tomorrow getting ready to get my hat on Sunday. Yipes.
This means I will need to buy hair canvas, a first in my short life. I will have to cut pattern and fabric....and sew on my machine. At home. All by lonesome, not with a throng of women perusing the pattern books at Vogue outside my classroom door. Can I say I love my Viking Husqvarna, just not sewing at home in my dusty office? Really, can I say that to you women who love nothing more than to sew in silence away from your children, spouses, and various pets? You probably lock your door just to keep the various live creatures at bay. Me? I invite the dust mites inside, and I happily sneeze as they come right on in. Aaachoo, aachoo, aachoo, bless you for stopping on by! For those of you thinking, "Why don't you just bring your machine to Vogue?" Honestly, I'm not about to truck my personal machine to Vogue either, because they have the same exact product there. It's beyond dumb to schlepp my slightly outdated sewing machine, when they've got the latest models there already plugged into the wall. Another thing: I can't just drop into the classroom any old time...sometimes another teacher is there. Can't interrupt, you know.

I did say I'm a deadline sewer in a previous post, so I guess this means I must live up to my word, but it's all good. Really! This last-minute news gives solid purpose to my Saturday. No leisurely browsing on the Internet at 7 a.m.. No dawdling, no drawing, no dandering, no no no! Hair canvas, lining and petersham, oh my! And sewing, which I swear I'm only going to do with a Guinness at my side tomorrow (look: ace seamstress Mac Berg fully supports drinking while sewing, so if she says it's all right, it's A-OK. ) Besides, a four-pack of Guinness is on sale at Dominick's. Now, they're not cold brewskis, so I'm going to have to get some in the morning, get 'em in the fridge, so they're ready when the Viking shivers awake sometime tomorrow afternoon before I go dancing at the Battle of the Bands. I will limit my drinking while sewing to one, maybe two pints, but I'm not driving to the big Swing-dancing event, so I will not be endangering anyone except my long fingernails (which I've known to accidentally snip while I'm cutting fabric. Better that than my actual digits, you know?).

And if I don't finish the hat, that's ok. My students just need to be able to see some of the construction. Look, all hats are basically alike when it comes to making 'em. Some things never change, and millinery is one of them. That said (and you're fully entitled to say, "So what's the point of taking your class then, lady?"), there are some finer points that are difficult to learn outside of hands-on instruction. Like sewing the petersham on so it's looks like an elf did it. Or assimilating the difference between grosgrain and petersham ribbon, and why you even want the stuff inside your hat (basically it acts as a sweatband).

Back to my newfound dilemma: As long as I read and understand the Vogue 8405 instructions and have something tangible to show my students (and offering them fresh cookies never hurts), my workshop will be go well. Oh yeah, I need to wear a hat, and take pictures of the finest hat on the Vogue Fabrics premises. I'll pack up the goods Sunday morning, dress appropriately and I'll be ready to play teacher in the afternoon. I promise I will not be hung-over, the swing-dance crowd drinks water, not alcohol on Saturday nights. Yeah, we're kind of weird that way.

* This is an out-take from a photo session yesterday, outside in the cold. Read the fine print on the instructions from the folks editing the Craft Corps book that they don't want head-shot photos taken with a colorful background. So instead of pitchin', here it is.

Hats Not So Haughty: A Round-Up

Is it just me but doesn't now seem like the right time to wear a hat? Maybe more people are...and I'm not just talking about your everyday black knit topper, just something bright and colorful. There were so many bright straw pictures at the opener for Nordstrom's trend show on Saturday in downtown Chicago, I thought daylight savings time had kicked in early times and I was at church on Easter Sunday. Which brings me to that day, discussion-wise. In years past, I haven't seen too many woman wearing hats (I'm not going to say bonnet because we're not talking babies, but full-fledged adults) on Easter, but this time, I'm hoping it'll be different. You know it will be a like secret meeting of the Yellow Hat Society. Serious. We'll all converge into the aisle at communion, give each other furtive winks, a cue to break out and start dancing, of course, all the crying toddlers already running amuck will just join up in the fun.

If you're looking at the hats above, I don't have plans to make a yellow fedora yet. I'm not looking to be the female version of Dick Tracy. Now I could see a daffodil cocktail hat with matching Russian veiling. That would be pretty and feminine. Pair it with a neutral trenchcoat, and it would be a darling way to end Lent. But I'm certain that there will be at least one or two women walking around on Easter in their Aretha Franklin knock-offs. That won't be me though, I'm too much of a rebel. Hah! (As an aside, I'm sure you've seen all the altered photos of men wearing Aretha's hats).

I actually need to make Vogue 8405 because I'm teaching it March 22 at a Vogue Fabrics store near you. However, I'm a lazy one, I sew best on a deadline. Consequently, when I hear my class is almost full, that's when I buy the hair canvas, the lining fabric, and raid the stash, and get sewing. Otherwise, I feel like why bother? Although, truly, it's an adorable pattern. My favorite is the one in the lower right corner with the brown plaid ribbon. I was going to focus on teaching that version alone in my workshop, but since the hat with assymetrical brim is featured on the Vogue Fabrics' web site, I figure I'll teach 'em all.

Wait, there's more! If you're a fan of Judith M Millinery no matter where you live on this great planet Earth, you'll be happy to hear she's starting an online forum on her site. So you can ask questions there until the black cows come home, (then you have to make me a Black Cow, ok?).

Finally, back to the pattern above. Which hat would you make if you had the opportunity?

The Pursuit of Flappiness: Vogue 7571

Tomorrow I start a four-week solo Charleston class. It feels like an appropriate class to take now for several reasons. I need some kind of exercise that will tone me up in a way that water aerobics has failed to do. I go to the local Y thrice weekly and my figure remains the same no matter how much stretching or wiggling I do with the styrofoam noodle while I'm wading in the warm-water pool. I also need some kind of class that's utterly and completely happy, and jazz music from the 1920s and 30s totally lifts my mood. Finally, I'm looking for a workshop that will put me solidly to sleep when I come home. And I think this particular class will do the trick.

Now I will not wear anything fancy schmancy attire for this class, but I feel like I need a dress just like Flapper Fanny's at some point. Check out what the popular cartoon-girl of the 1930s wore. For a cartoon with a glowering husband, Fanny thinks: "Keeping a husband in hot water doesn't make a husband more tender." Or how about this one with suitably suspendered Fanny: "Most people call a spade a spade until they try to make a garden." I'm not one to smoke but this one's a hoot too. Can you read more about Fanny here at this blog.

I really don't know any women who read this cartoon back in the day, back somehow I can imagine the comments little old ladies who remember and what they would say:

Myrna: "I loved Flapper Fanny. She was always in the Chicago Daily News, and after my daddy read the late-afternoon edition with his pipe in the living room, my older sister Emma would always get her hands on it, and cut out the 'toons before I got a chance to read it. Then she pasted them into her scrapbook, all before I could look at it. It made me so mad. We had more than a few fights over the newspaper, and I can remember scratching and drawing blood a couple of times. Naturally, I was spanked for disrespecting an elder. Emma never did let me look before she cut...so I ended up still stealing the neighbor's paper every once in a while. Oh, I was a bad girl, I was."

Betsy: "Flapper Fanny was quintessentially naughty. Smoking, staying out late, fretting about her boyfriend. She was just everything I wanted to be...especially the hair. I figured at a young age that the boys might think I was wild if I just cut my hair like Fanny. My parents wouldn't let me. They thought I would go to hell if I got a pageboy. How do I stop a young girl who wants to grow up? I just went into the outhouse once with a pair of my mother's sewing scissors, and cut with a mirror in my other hand. Oh dear, I got in such trouble. But I wasn't sorry. The boys at school did notice my new hair-do."

Norberta: "Flapper Fanny was good, but there were lots of girl cartoons back then. We were all looking for role models, you know. I liked Marianne, who was quite the jitterbug. I remember she could cut the rug with her boyfriend. Gay and her Gang is the one that really that sticks out in my mind though. Gay seemed so saucy, and there was so much innuendo in those cartoons. I don't know how they got away with it in a family newspaper. I liked Gay. I'd cut out some of the cartoons, past them onto cardboard, and dress them up with little outfits I drew. No wonder I became an art teacher. It was all because of Gay."

That's just my make-and-pretend for today, perhaps because I like to sketch girls with drop-waist dresses and bobs. Since I'm so caught up in the era, the music and the dance of the late 1920s, I figure I need to make like Fanny sometime during my Charleston class even if it's only at the end....if and when we perform? I don't have a pair of Mary Janes anywere, but I've got the Louise Brooks hair cut. That's where the above pattern, Vogue 7571, comes in handy. Vogue Fabrics is having a sale on a half-a-table's worth of galloon-edged stretch lace. I think they may have robbed Victoria's Secret factory there's so much of this fabric. I've never seen so much of this particular type of fabric there except for the meager remnants that I'm sometimes able to eek out a t-shirt.

With the sale, there's more than enough to make a dress. Now the pattern doesn't call for anything with stretch. It's just plain old lace and charmeuse. Me? I "see" an easier than green peas dress minus the zipper in the back. All materials are as squishy and pliable as can be.

So...the challenge will be to buy the necessary fabrics and to make the time to create this Fanny-worthy dress. Right now, I'm more like to sew underwear and bathing suits with the sizable stash next to my bed and in my closet.

Lo and Behold: Apron.ology, the Magazine

It would appear that retro-style aprons are returning with a June Cleaver and "I Love Lucy" vengeance. Can scorched frying pans and pantyhose in the kitchen be far behind? I don't think so. Here's the proof in the butterscotch pudding: first, there's Apron.ology, a new magazine. This is absolutely amazing, considering periodicals have been dropping faster than flies trapped in a screened-in window. Now, this new publication is not cheap. I repeat, not cheap. I won't even say the price aloud. You could probably see a movie and buy the smallest size of popcorn for the same price. But the patterns! The photos! The sheer hilarity! All this needs to be factored in. Now, of course, I haven't bought it thus far, I'm all talk, and no traction. Still.

What else heralds the return of The Apron? The crockpot. All the blogs with slow-cooker recipes. Don't you need the garment for this kind of cookery? I think so.. thus a 1950s-style is totally appropriate since you will be chopping up Spam and Velveeta for your concoctions. These kinds of ingredients call for period-appropriate apparel, right? Even if you do wear it over your Seven for All for Mankind jeans and slinky mesh jersey tops. Anyhow, here are some aprons that you can stitch while your stew is bubbling for a few hours. Check out McCall M5825 (comes with a mitt too!) and Simplicity 3532.

Naturally, you will be using scraps for your apron, just like you might do in the kitchen. Instead of left-over celery and carrot stubs, you dive into your vintage fabric stash, as I have. The swatch you see above? The only remains for a 1950s top I attempted on my grandmother's Singer. That machine ate my fabric and any ambition I had to finish the project. I ditched the blouse, and somehow salvaged the tissue-paper thin cotton fabric. See how cute it is? Vases? Plates? Askew teapots?

I will use this to make the sample for my retro apron class at Vogue Fabrics, that is if anyone signs up for the class. So far, no one has. I'm figuring sewers are out there thrifting for aprons at the local Goodwills, Salvation Army shops and not even bothering to see what's left from quilting projects past. Sewing an apron is much more fun than discovering one that says "World's Best Dad" on it for $1.50. Really. It will do you no good to wear something like that when you're prepping a home-made pizza and you're a woman. I'm not kidding. Of course, your dog won't give you any grief (unless he or she is very smart and can read) but your kids will. What's more, they will never forget. You'll hear about it until...I don't know when.

On that note, here's a link for my apron-making classes at Vogue Fabrics next month. We'll be using Butterick 4945. For inspiration, I found this Flickr set of vintage apron patterns. For this one, you could use the inexpensive appliques for pockets. Gosh, the possibilities are more endless than snow in Chicago!

They Came, Cut, and Ate Oatmeal Raisin Cookies: the Vogue Fabrics Hat Workshop, no. 1

Carol Duff drove from Royal Oak, Mich. for my first hat-making class at Vogue Fabrics yesterday. Well, she was spending a couple days with her daughter, Rebecca, who also attended the workshop. So the mother-daughter came together for a little wicked weekend fun. Carol, wearing her feathered hat, arrived with enviable sewing supplies: pattern weights; sharp, spring-loaded scissors, shopping bags of wool felt not found in this part of the world: lavender, mustard, grey! The doting mother supplied Rebecca, a sewing novice, with everything she needed for her project, right down to the Schmetz universal needles.

Carol won the hat contest hands-up. She even had this most fabulous, coordinating feather boa (not pictured because it refused to cooperate with my camera). So I gave her a bag of goodies that included a vintage plastic buckle still in its original package, a zipper, Russian veiling, two faux feathers, circa 1940s, and at least two packages of new ribbon. There were a few other items, but I've since forgotten them.

Moving on:

Maria Carlos happily marking up her version of Vogue 8175 with chalk. While she hails from the Chicago area, she takes time out of her busy schedule, which including caring for her 80-something mother, to come to Vogue Fabrics and create magic. She says she sometimes she signs up for a seminar, shows up late, and stays to do her own thing in the classroom to do her own thing even though everyone else has left with a finished project or to head off to a local bar to forget their sewing troubles with a glass of Merlot (isn't this normal for most women?). Maria is also a regular at Vogue Fabrics' Monday night free sewing demos.

Another out-of-towner from Wisconsin, Stephanie Walter (far left) wires the brim of her hat. She actually checked in early for the workshop, worked non-stop through the three hours of the class. Even though there was some hand-sewing (the edge of the brim), she was the only one of the 9 students who walked out the classroom door with a finished chapeau, minus the petersham stitched inside the hat. She walked out too quickly for me to capture her work of art on my digital camera. Darn!
Maria again, testing her her hat, which initially looked like a habit-in-the-making from Doubt's costume-department. Maria is returning for next week's class ready to dive into another hat-making project. Talk about dedication!

Here's what I learned from the first class:
* Remove the pillows displayed on the wall if you want decent pictures. In nearly every photo I took, almost all students looks like they have something sticking out of the back of their heads. One student wore a great 1940s red hat trimmed with white and black petersham, but every one of those blasted pillows ruined my photos. I couldn't even crop them out. However, I will not go so far as taking down the mirror and the thread organizer. I would love to cut out a hole somewhere to make a window. Natural light, where are thee?
* Hand out name tags. It's the best way to keep Carol and Carolyn straight and from turning Henette into Henrietta.
* Not all fabric yardage is alike. I said 3/8 of a yard of fabric on my supply list, which would have been correct if the wool felt in stock weren't so narrow. Darn fabric!
* Expect to leave with a nearly full container of cookies, since it appears most women seem to watch what they eat. At least they're too busy sewing, not munching.

That is all.

The Girdle edition: Vogue 1020, version 2.0

Vogue 1020, view C, is a dress pattern that's incredibly kind to nearly all figures. No alterations are necessary since all that side scrunching on the left side hides most evils. Short-waisted? Just yank the thing up. Long-waisted? Pull down. And, from what I understand, no full-bust adjustments (FBAs in sewing lingo) are called for either. Besides, it goes together so quickly. Really in a few hours, if you ignore the pattern's clarion call for a side zipper and just use clear elastic to gather the fabric.

You do want to use a stretchy fabric. Mine is the last of $1.29 a yard fabric. Isabella, Vogue Fabrics crackerjack sales lady in the main room, conned me into buying two panels of this stuff. Yes, conned! I was thinking view B of this same pattern but the flower print cried out for something more and I'm so glad I purchased more. Sure, this fabric would look cute in a top, but as an entire outfit, I think it's much more outstanding. I first embellished the hippeastrum with some tiny bright blue dots, also on sale at Vogue. You can see a closer look here. Extremely easy, and makes it look boutiquey!

The fabric was sheer, so I interlined it, but it got all bunchy, especially toward the hem, so I had to undo it. You can still see some of the pale pink mesh getting too friendly with the main fabric, but I'm just going to let it go. Here's what I learned from ace seamstress Mac Berg, also at Vogue's Evanston store: you need to cut the fashion fabric and the interlining as one. You can either baste the two together, or you can opt for the quick-o method. Lay down one fabric, spray it with Sulky KK2000 temporary spray adhesive, put the other fabric down, pin on tissue pattern. Cut. There will be no shifting (unless there's a politician involved), and everything will be on grain.

All in all, I'm pleased as green peas with the dress, even if I must wear a girdle (also known as a body shaper) underneath. I suppose if I had cut the dress a wee wider in the hips it wouldn't hug me so much in that area. I feel a tad bit self-conscious about the rear view, and it's given me extra incentive to add more vegetables to my diet.

Even so, I'll wear this dress. I think it would be great for Easter, weeks away. Maybe I can work on a hat to complement it. What say you?

Considering the Flirty Fedora in Wool Felt

There are days when I tell people I'm a hat-maker just to be silly. There are even months even I pretend I'm a milliner with hats so beautiful that they are snatched out of the window display within minutes of their debut. There are even years when I contemplate filling out the occupation section on my income tax forms with that word: hat designer. Some decades (I've been living a while, it just doesn't readily show) I even dream of pitching it all (the residence, the family and the clothes) and just moving somewhere like Australia or England where hats are a Way of Life, not just something amusing like they are here.

Which is a sort of a long way of saying that I think that I've arrived, at least in the town of my birth (Evanston, Ill.). My first hat-making class on February 1 is nearly full. To date, no one is interested in learning how to make a poodle skirt, a tie or even an apron. But a hat? Bring it on, shut down the business office and get me signed up! I've got seven milliners-in-the-making on the list for the first workshop, another two signed up for the one on the 22nd.

Now the hat I really wanted to work on was Vogue 8175, but wouldn't you know not only is now out-of-print, it's unavailable on the Vogue Patterns web site. Views E and F - which have that 1930s tyrolean theme going - are extraordinarily easy to make. However, if it's not available to the masses, I can't use it to instruct my students. To my great (about the size of the Grand Canyon) disappointment I cannot use Vogue 8175 - although if any of my students finds it, he/she is more than welcome to use it.

So...I have to use another pattern. I'm reluctantly selecting the Flirty Fedora. My biggest reservation is that it doesn't call for wool felt, the fabric of choice for Vogue 8175. But I'm going to use the high-quality wool fiber (which differs significantly from craft felt, friends) for the fedora. It will be an experiment of the Tim Gunn "Make It Work" school of thought, but I'm really confident wool felt will be more than up to the task.

Since the wool felt is so firm, I don't think I need to do all that stitching on the brim. I don't consider the top stitching on the crown essential either. Now the profile of the fedora vs. Vogue's rendition looks a little more 1960s Twiggy or Babe Paley ready to hit the social circuits and less Katharine Hepburn or Ginger Rogers headed to the local dance club for a little jitterbug, but that's ok. But I'm cool with that alternative silhouette if my students are.

Now I might purchase the Flirty Fedora to try it on for size (where did that expression come from anyhow?), and so I can converse knowledgeably with my workshop participants. I can also have a completed project for show-and-tell, which helps all those who are visual learners. Ideally, I should have both the Vogue 8175 (it sounds like I'm talking about a product, and not some unique work of art) and the Flirty Fedora, so the two will be on hand on the first of the month. What would be nifty is if I made both hats in the same fabric, and embellished each differently. But who needs two hats in the same color, fabric? Not me. Boring!

Anyhow, part of me is hankering to make a hat in bright raincoat-yellow, something that would be a huge jolt of color in our bleak Chicago landscape. I could see that with a small brown feather, worn with a smart black and white houndstooth jacket. Shoulder pads mandatory! (That's me, although you might disagree fervently.) Vogue Fabrics only has the wool felt in black and white in the Evanston store. Rogie Sussman tells me there will be some hat-worthy felt online. For something really unique, I'd try felting - buy an ounce or two of the roving that's near the sewing machine department. Cut the hat parts, felt, sew to make a conversation piece that will start on the street and end with you getting a free drink somewhere! What do you think?

The Go-To Cold Weather Scarf*

I've nothing particularly important to say, but I just that I admire a good flame-stitch pattern. So I naturally gravitate to it like a moth in search of wool to munch on wherever I see it. I own at least three different iterations of this scarf (all fabric is from Vogue Fabrics in Evanston, Ill.), it's not especially warm but it looks good against the white background of my jacket, and I adore the color segues, much like this skirt, which I plan to make one day, using a swatch from one of my fabrics.
* Here's one novelty knit fabric I don't have, but it's on sale for about $3.99 a yard in the Evanston store.

Embellishing the Hippeastrum* for Vogue 1020, the dress

This fabric floral, believe or not, is the centerpiece of a panel of one-way stretch jersey (?) that I bought the other day at Vogue Fabrics. Each panel has one massive flower for the entire length. There's actually a really long brown stalk and leaves that you don't see here that's on the backside of the dress version of Vogue 1020. It pained me greatly to separate the flower and the leaves and actually leave the flower off the back of my dress. One of these big beauties on a dress is enough and I just remembered the signature Sarah Jessica Parker dress from the movie version of "Sex in the City." One is enough, two is overkill, three makes for the beginning of a garden if you know the dress I'm talking about. Anyhow, I don't have a mint green thumb, so I'm not entirely confident that the flower above is a Hippeastrum, but it looks like the one on this Wiki page. Am I wrong or am I right? I was totally tempted to call this an Amaryllis, but I understand Amaryllis is often confused with Hippeastrum, and I'd like to get the correct name of the plant if it's going front and center on the garment I'm sewing. Any flower experts out there?
* I decorated the center of the flower with glitzy blue dot Hot Fix transfers also on sale at Vogue Fabrics. It was $1.29 a yard. I bought a 1/4 of a yard, plenty for my purposes!

From the Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey School of Amazing Feats: the Felt Hat

Both views of this hat are from out-of-print Vogue 8175. That said, I'm gravitating like a magnetized pair of scissors to the one on on top. That's the one I need to wear today to detract any attention from my cold-ravaged pink nose and for a jolt of color on this dreary, overcast Saturday morning. I'm not even sure what coat I'd team up either one of the beauties with, but I'm just in love with how retro these hats are...just the thing that either Katharine Hepburn or Ginger Rogers would wear in any one of their movies from the 1930s or 1940s, paired with some ultra-padded coat or jacket just like the model in the above photos.

If you do happen to take my class (and I urge you to do so because there's a contest. If you wear what I consider the best hat to class, you will a prize and your picture will end up on the Vogue Fabrics web site), you will find this hat extraordinarily easy to make. Since it's completely made up of felt, you don't have to finish the edges. None at all. There are no also wires involved in the making of this topper for you techno-phobes. Zilch, making this hat even easier than making a Play-Doh dinosaur. If you can operate a sewing machine, you can sew this pattern (we're talking about the hat itself, not the envelope and the instructions, ok?). The felt is stiffer than day-old Wonder bread so at it doesn't need any interfacing or wiring for the brim to stand up. How's that an amazing trick worthy of Ringley Bros. Barnum & Bailey circus? There's a good chance that you'll make it in the correct size from the get-go. Most women have heads that measure about 22 inches around, I've found, give or a fraction of an inch or so. Doesn't matter what shape, length or width the rest of your body conforms to. Most of us ladyfolk really do have noggins about the same circumference. However, even if the entire class uses the exact same cuts even fabric (this is what's Vogue is selling in the way of 100 percent wool felt) there's still a good chance our creations will still appear unalike in the end. Here's why: we'll embellish them in our own way. Some of us will opt for a buckle, others a feather, others for something even completely unique.
I can imagine a group photo afterwards. I'd imagine it'd look like a head shot of a group of Rockettes with all our hats, contrasting but the same. For those of you who don't live anywhere near Evanston, Ill., how would you make this hat? Felt or something else?

Making a 1960s Neck Tie Scares Me

On New Year's Day my mother and I braved the cold to see West Side Story at the Music Box Theater in Chicago. We saw the restored 70 mm film, viewing it just as it was shown in 1961 or thereabout. I badly wanted Rita Moreno's lavender dress (ruffled with lace on the inside of her swishy skirt), figuring it could be just the thing I need for landing more dance partners here in the Windy City. Aside from that, I admired the "Cool Boy" ties on the guys. I wanted to study them more, but you can't freeze-frame a movie under the twinkling skies at this 1929 theatre. It just isn't done, nor would it be advisable to take a picture unless you want to incur the wrath of fellow movie-goers. Anyhow, the one that particularly struck me (and I can't find an image of it online) was a skinny slip of a burgundy tie with these abstract gold cross-bars. Truly mod.

Now, I'm teaching a 1960s tie-making class (my knees are already shaking in a Cowardly Lion sort-of-way because I really feel like I don't know what I'm doing yet), so this particular man's accessory would intrigue me, especially now as I'm putting together yet another supply list. So I was at Vogue Fabrics today, scribbling out a list, checking it thrice to find it I'm naughty or nice. And I find, I'm actually quite delightful. I picked Vogue 7104 or 8048. I reckon I can narrow the tie in either to make it "Mad Men" wide. Ok, the pattern calls for one yard of fabric, you can pick charmeuse, crepe de chine, gabardine, jacquard and something else I can't quite decipher. Both patterns call for sew-in interfacing, but Rogie at Vogue Fabrics tells me the store actually has an interfacing specifically for ties. I'm putting that in. You need thread to match, Schmetz sewing needles suited for silks, and 5/8 of a yard of lining. Am I missing anything? I've communicated with Cidell, who has been obsessed with making ties. I wish I could share that passion, it would certainly help me get over my fear of ties. I've bookmarked her mitered corners, is there anything else I should before I jump into the neck-tie abyss?

It's funny but I don't fear stitching bow-ties in the same way. They just seem...mistake-proof? Maybe I'm not intimidated because they look inherently like you shouldn't take them too seriously? I'm so looking forward to making bow-ties. In fact, I would be triply-thrilled if all my students said, "We want to make bow-ties!" I would like bow down, sobbing tears of joy, thankful that they saved me from making a neck-tie. The only difference with a bow-tie is that you need a bow-tie set. Now this isn't something you can likely find at Walmart, but you can get it at Vogue Fabrics, although I'm not sure which department. Would you believe that these Vogue patterns actually call for fusible interfacing for the bow-tie? Does that just seem like soooo uncouture? Cheap? Unworthy of the guy you're actually making the tie for (or perhaps you're making it for yourself. I would to wear it with the New Look vest reviewed in Threads magazine this month.)

Skinny tie or bow tie, I'll master it all. I firmly believe it's all about the journey. I'm learning lots already and I haven't taken a set of shears to a piece of silk. And the class itself? That should totally be a hoot and half. I'm asking all students to wear vintage, especially the early 1960s. The best outfit wins a prize (most likely a goody bag with sewing stuff) and a picture on the Vogue Fabrics web site. Now that doesn't making sewing in a group sound so much more fun? Really. It makes the trip at the sewing machine (and it's really is trip - you've got your foot to the pedal, and with the proper gadget you could probably track your stitching miles) much more fun. I'm also convinced that getting decked out will take the pressure off of perfection. This workshop is more of a party (cocktails are the only items missing although I'm sure we could go out as a group afterwards if we were so inclined) and less of a lesson. If you make a great tie, wonderful. If you don't, hopefully you still laughed a lot and soaked up something even if it's only how to lift the presser foot.

If you make a tie of either variety, you'll be "on trend" as they say in Lucky Magazine. For more, read this article. If you're feeling thrifty, print out this Burda Style pattern. I'm toying with the idea of doing a comparison between the Burda and the Vogue patterns, just for the heck of it. The Burda one actually looks easy. Just print it out on your computer versus snipping out the tissue paper in the Vogue version. Ugh. Am I being a bad sport or what?

If you were to sew a tie today, who would you make it for? Yourself, a significant other or a stylish sibling? What kind of fabric would you use? For any other more experienced sewers reading this, can you tell me what kind of Schmetz needle is best for sewing silks? I need Sandra Betzina's Fabric Savvy but I don't have it handy (it's in the Vogue Fabrics classroom). One other thing: how wide is a 1960s tie? What fabric would make it look really retro? Would you guy wear a vintage-style tie to work or would he rather be arrested? One inquiring mind in freezing Chicago wants to know. Now I've just clicked on Bowtie Bill's blog, who knew his kind still existed in Vermont? I thought it was all just the Von Trapps and downhill skiing.

Pastel Dye Sticks+Fabric+Vogue 1020=Great Top (The Kind You Wear)

Ok, this is a project for someone who likes to sew and draw. Not everyone who enjoys lowering the presser foot likes to cut loose with crayons (in this case, Pentel Fabricfun Pastel Dye Sticks). I do. I have ever since I was less than 4 feet tall. I'm a leftie, so all that painting, drawing, doodling comes naturally to me, although none of creative scribbles are valuable yet. That last word is the operative one.

Here's my recipe for success, at least for this particular pattern. Vogue 1020, view B. Your sewing-mileage may vary (well call that YSMMV).

1. You need a lot of space to draw. I choose to do my artwork in the Vogue Fabrics classroom where there are several cutting tables. I don't have that kind of furniture in my own home, so when I must spread my stuff out like that, it's off to the Vogue I go. You can draw on the floor if you don't mind kneeling on a hard surface for a long period of time (or you can wear knee pads, another item I don't own right now).

2. Sullivan's Fabric Stabilizer is your BFF, although it failed me miserably in my time of need. It wouldn't spray, not even when I poked the nozzle with a pin. I proceeded forwarded without it, but my masterpiece would have been easier to create with fabric temporarily stiffened by the spray.

3. Think larger than life when you're decorating a t-shirt. A gorilla-sized fruit (strawberry), a humongous smiley face, or porthole-sized sun or moon. Actually my blossom was too big, and I had to cut away some parts, especially the part when I signed my initials and dated it 2008. Sob. If I had to do it over, I would trace the pattern piece first, do my scribbles, plop the pattern on top of the fabric again and snip. I'd also use fabric markers that instantly set - I had to press an iron on top of paper to make my flower permanent.

4. Do the creative stuff one day, the nitty-gritty cutting and sewing another. It makes the process so much more enjoyable and satisfying, besides there's the danger you'll smudge other pieces of fabric while you're sewing and that will make you so cranky, you'll want to ditch the whole thing!

5. Do some strategic placing. I really tried to put the flower center elsewhere besides my bust, but it just didn't work. Oh well. It doesn't bother me that much, but will my friend Paulette care? She's getting this top for a Christmas present. I trust she will not say A Word about the stigma.

6. Embellish with embroidery and crystals to make it look it super ready-to-wear. A NY Collection tee decorated with a woman's face had purple crystals on the brow, red ones on the lips. I thought that was so clever, and I just might try to create my own version sometime.

More on the pattern shortly.