tribal / cord

My general approach to cold-weather apparel includes wearing normal summery dresses with additional layers. I've never really been the type to keep two separate wardrobes that replace each other every six months. The foundation pieces in my "winter clothes storage" include one sweater knit dress and a couple cord and wool skirts. My tights and cardigans, however, are overflowing.

I made this dress in (cringe) "tribal print" rayon a few months ago. It's a basic sleeveless dress with a high elastic waist that I made from the under layer of the Burdastyle Double Layer Dress PDF pattern from 6/2013. I didn't think the style of the dress was blog-worthy but I've probably worn it once every weekend since I made it. The fabric is interesting and goes with black AND brown, which I obviously love to mix. It's rare for JoAnn's to carry rayon prints, but I'm always happy when I find them because it's one of my favorite fabrics to sew and wear.

The dress truly is nothing special. The neckline and armholes are finished with bias tape facings. It has a machine-stitched narrow hem. Done and done. And I'm obsessed with it.

These days I'm starting to prefer wearing light jackets instead of cardigans, I guess because they're edgier (?) and feel more weekend-appropriate. I've had a thrifted khaki jacket for awhile that was stained and starting to rip in the elbows. I decided it was time for a new one, so I bought some khaki corduroy to recreate a similar style.

I did this by seam-ripping an old Target jacket and using those pieces as the pattern. I was able to make a broad back adjustment, which I've finally accepted as something I need to do on most fitted garments with sleeves. In the original jacket, I wasn't able to even hug anyone. Wah! Now I will hug everything and everyone. I think there's a misconception that a well-fitting garment needs to be flush against the skin from all angles. Don't forget (like I have for years) that your arms move forward and upward, but not backward, so even if a jacket looks puffy in the back by the armscye when you're standing straight, it's necessary for comfortable driving/hugging/cooking/child-holding/dancing/pool-playing/Swiffering/etc.

I don't love the cuff openings on this thing, as they gape open when the cuffs are buttoned. I think I need to study other ready-to-wear jackets to see how the cuffs are made. 

This corduroy is pretty thin and SUPER wrinkly. The elbow areas of this jacket look like a constant hot mess no matter what. My recommendation: if you're going to make a jacket using the remains of a cheap old Target jacket, use nicer fabric and NICER BUTTONS or else your handmade garment will end up looking like a cheap old Target jacket. Does anyone know where to buy higher-quality corduroy?

Still, though, I'ma wear the hell out of this outfit, even if autumnal corduroy mixed with tribal print rayon is a bit of a seasonal disconnect. Try and stop me.

What's first on your fall sewing list?

sewing a collar: a different order

So I've kind of become obsessed with mastering the techniques of sewing a button-up collared shirt (or shirt dress!) lately. I've made several of them in the past but it's never a perfectly smooth ride. The hardest part of making a shirt, for me anyway, is sewing the stupid collar stand. Everything about it -- attaching it to the shirt, attaching it to the collar, edge-stitching around the curves, and sewing a buttonhole on it. I dread it all every time, but I'm determined to keep practicing and trying to find ways to make it go more smoothly.

I've discovered a technique in attaching the collar/stand that works considerably better for me than the other methods I've tried. It's not necessarily a technique -- it's more just a change in the order of construction. I don't think this is new or revolutionary -- in fact, Peter of Male Pattern Boldness used a similar method in his Colette Negroni sew-along when he was making the version of the shirt with the traditional collar stand (see here). But, his is the only tutorial I've seen so far that demonstrates this order of construction, and he does a mirror image construction to what I prefer. It's a hard method to search online because there's no name or distinguishing feature for it. So, I'm just going to throw it out to the Internet again and see if anyone catches.

Most patterns have you construct the collar then sandwich it between the collar stand pieces and stitch everything together. Then you have to attach this whole already-sewn thing to the shirt neckline. This is what I've always seen in commercial patterns and other tutorials:

This has always resulted in a fiddly mess for me because it's harder to get the collar stand edge to perfectly align with the front plackets. The method I prefer is to attach the outer collar stand to the shirt by itself, then attach the collar to that, and then sew on the inner collar stand. Here's how to do all that:

1. Sew the body of your shirt as usual or as instructed in the particular pattern you're using. Make sure you've turned/attached your front plackets and done any shoulder-seam topstitching before attaching the collar. Stay-stitch the neckline of your shirt so it doesn't stretch out beforehand.

2. Fuse (or sew) interfacing to the upper collar and the outer collar stand piece. To reduce bulk in the finished garment, cut away the seam allowance in the interfacing before fusing it. I didn't reduce mine all the way around, though you definitely could (should?).

3. To make a neat collar, it helps to start with properly sized collar and collar stand pieces. If you're using a pattern that has the same pattern piece for both the upper collar and the under collar, you're going to want to trim down the edges of your undercollar by 1/8" all the way around. I also do this on the inner collar stand. When pinning and sewing later, you will align the raw edges up as usual, and the smaller piece will stretch a bit to fit. Why do this? By reducing the size of the inner & under pieces, the seams will roll more naturally to the underside, and you won't get puckers when sewing the inner collar stand.

(Please don't use a rotary cutter directly on your table. I removed my cutting mat for the photo so you could see the cut edges more clearly).

4. With right sides together, pin the bottom edge of the interfaced collar stand piece to the shirt neckline, matching centers and any notches. It helps to clip some parts of the shirt neckline so it conforms to the curve of the stand. 

The ends of the collar stand will protrude from the front edges of the shirt by the given seam allowance. 

Stitch this seam. Trim the seam allowance and press up. I always leave a more considerable seam allowance at the ends. It may be bulkier but it's easier to handle in subsequent steps.

5. Sew the sides and bottom edges of the upper collar piece to the under collar piece, right sides together. Leave the top edge unstitched. 

Trim the seam allowances if necessary, turn right side out, and work your magic to get sharp collar points. (I always try using this tip from this tutorial, though it's not always 100% successful.) Press the collar, rolling the seam slightly under so it's not visible. Top-stitch 1/4" from the edge if desired. You can baste the top collar edge now, though I typically don't.

6. Pin and baste, or just pin, the whole collar piece to the interfaced collar stand, which has already been attached to the shirt. Make sure that the interfaced side of the collar (upper collar) is facing up. The uninterfaced side of the collar (under collar) will be facing the interfaced (outer) collar stand. Got it?

7. NOW is when you attach the uninterfaced collar stand piece (inner collar stand) to the whole shebang, right sides together, matching centers and edges. The collar will be sandwiched in between the two pieces. Before pinning, fold up the seam allowance of the uninterfaced collar stand on the bottom edge so that it mirrors its interfaced counterpart. You can press up that whole edge at this point, too, but I prefer to do it later.

8. Stitch this seam, making sure the stitches butt up (hehe) directly in line with the front placket edge. Backstitch securely.

Trim this seam allowance and clip the curve, but make sure to leave yourself some wiggle room with the S.A. at the edge. Turn right side out and press. See how well the edges line up? This is where it helps to have more of a seam allowance inside because it's easier to push it in and out of the way from the bottom edge. I've found that a tiny, fraying S.A. is more stubborn.

9. Press under the lower seam allowance on the inner collar stand so the edge just covers the seam line. 

10. You can slip-stitch this in place (more common in women's wear), or pin from the right side and edgestitch all the way around. For the record, edgestitching is just topstitching at 1/8" or 1/16" from the edge.

I've still never achieved perfect edgestitching, but it does help to use my blind hem foot for this process. It has a sliding guide that I can line up with the edge of the seam. I've ordered a stitch-in-the-ditch foot that has a shorter, metal guide that I hope will offer more stability than this lopsided plastic thing. It hasn't arrived in the mail yet but I'll keep you posted on how well it works! 

11. The collar's done! Now finish the rest of your shirt/dress and post that beauty on your blog or whatever.

[ Shirtdress pattern is McCalls' 6696 from spring 2013. Fabric is vintage cotton from Etsy. The sleeves are just rolled up here because they're not hemmed yet. ]

As you may have determined, this collar-sewing method is not drastically different from what you've probably seen before. HOWEVER, doing it in this order gives you more control of where the collar stand lines up with the front plackets, and lowers the risk of getting wonky edges and seam allowances that refuse to stay tucked in place under the inner collar stand.

I hope this makes sense. How do you sew perfect collars? Let me know if you've tried this method, tried something better, or have any questions! 

cynthia of yore

I love the photos of myself where I'm trying to be candid and coy, but it just looks like I'm sleeping while standing up. Oh, the riveting process of blog modeling! Honkchoo.

The pattern here is a Cynthia Rowley design from Simplicity 2215. Gah, commercial pattern. Printed on tissue! I've had this pattern forever (i.e. <2 years) but chose to ignore it once I witnessed Cynthia Rowley being mean to Mondo on Project Runway. Old news. I'm over it. I had sewer's block a couple weeks ago so went digging through my pattern collection to try to see my old patterns in a new light. This pattern comes with an option for a dress, a button-down sleeveless shirt, and a pleated skirt. The "design elements" include an option for fringed edges (no joke) and an asymmetrically pleated skirt.

Dang, girl, those are some shoes. Not sure I understand the styling connection there. What would Nina Garcia say? What would she say about MY outfit?! Ha, yikes, I don't wanna know.

I made the dress view A as written, except I made my skirt pleats symmetrical. I thought they might look sloppy otherwise. If you've found this blog post because you're hoping to make the collared shirt from this pattern, I will tell you that there is no collar stand to the collared shirt. If you care about that sort of thing. Which I do. I think. I wish they would make details more clear before you purchase a whole pattern.

This project was refreshing for me, actually. It was very straightforward, and I felt like I hadn't made anything in this style lately. I guess I've been making a lot of bullshit jersey dresses (behind the blog scenes), so it was satisfying to work with a stable woven cotton that pressed and folded like a dream. I haven't made a Simplicity pattern from start to finish in almost a year now. I typically sew with indie patterns or McCall's because they're more hip and fresh, yea, maybe? This dress here is not very hip and fresh, but I thought it might look delightfully French or something. I did worry that the high neckline, adorableness of the buttons, and blue color would make me look like an Amish schoolgirl. To remedy this a bit, I lowered the neckline about an inch and shortened the hem to above-knee length. Jury's still out.

This fabric is from the (gasp) home decor fabric section at JoAnn. It's 100% cotton that looks like, uh, a curtain. I originally intended it to be a bottom of some sort. The fabric is pretty structured for a bodice, but I thought I'd try it anyway because it was the only fabric in my stash that was woven, non-wool, and in a quantity above one yard. Someone needs to go shoppppping. I made a size 12 but it ended up being too big, so I shaved down the side seams. It's still roomy in the bust and under the bust, but you can only tell when I slouch. Which is always.

This pattern is drafted to have a fully lined bodice and unlined skirt. I used lightweight cotton print scraps from Fabric.com for the lining. I never used to bother adding fun fabrics in hidden details of my sewn garments, but it truly does make the whole thing more enjoyable to sew and wear. Why's that?

It can be tricky to fully line a sleeveless bodice with a zipper, and you have to decide which edge(s) you're going to hand-sew or how else to master the origami to keep all the seams hidden. On this particular pattern, they sacrifice the zipper opening and have you treat the bodice and lining as one when attaching the zipper. I realize after the fact that I'm not a fan of this, because I hate the look of the inside of a zipper when it's not covered up. It spoils the clean beauty of the lined bodice. You can see my crooked stitching from where I improvised a hand-picked zipper, and see the serger thread I refused to switch from white to navy. Ick. Yuck.

Boooooo. The outside looks okay, though, despite how I used a regular zipper when I much prefer invisible. Again, dismal stash! Feel sorry for me!

I think this dress will look best when layered up for fall. I couldn't resist wearing my new Franco Sarto wedge boots (here, only in black) in this photo shoot, though I'm not normally the type to wear boots with bare legs and I know it looks kind of hokey. I'm just excited to wear real leather on my feet instead of Payless plastic! I'm trying to become a grown up who makes investments in quality items, you see. A grownup who makes dresses that look like school uniforms? Yeah, well, oh well. 

Have you revisited an old(ish) pattern lately?

rotary blade sharpener: worth it?

It didn't take much convincing to get me to join the rotary cutter gang. Nah, it's not what it sounds like. I'm a nonviolent person (...the kind of person who cries in public while listening to a This American Life podcast episode about teen gang violence). I'm talking about sewing tools, and my obsession with speediness but with a desperate need for accurate cutting. Rotary cutters are the perfect invention.

With the volume of sewing I tend to do (only three-quarters of which lands on the blog), I've been blowing through rotary blades like crazy. I cut a lot of fabric, of course, but I also went through an experimental phase where I was cutting pattern tissue paper with them, too, just to see if it dulled the blades more quicky. FYI: it does. I didn't really mind when my blades got too dull for fabric, because I could then use them to cut out PDF patterns from computer paper. Swear! Only when the blades got so severely knicked up would I resign them to the trash (after putting them back in their original packaging so I wouldn't slice open the trash bags).

Still, I felt like I was spending unnecessary cash on something that can become so easily damaged and quickly disposable. And nothing's more infuriating than a knicked blade that leaves attached threads along the edge of the fabric, or pushes up mountains of fabric as you try to roll along. You know the drill:

This is supposed to be a sustainable hobby, right? Ha. So I finally decided to make another investment to see if I could extend the life of these bad boys. Enter the dual rotary blade sharpener, in this case produced by the Colonial brand. I bought it for about $15 USD with free shipping on Amazon (here). 

This one is simple, plastic. Seems like a toy you'd find in your McDonald's Happy Meal bag. You screw these two knobs together to secure the blade, then insert that in the disk and turn. The blade rubs against the ringed sharpener. There's a course side and a fine side to the sharpener, which you use in successive order.

The instructions warn you that it may take more than one try to get it to work on a dull blade. Once it's been warmed up to the sharpening process, it will take to it more easily in the future. Or something. I sharpened as instructed and tried it. Honestly didn't really work. Still dinged up:

I went through the sharpening process again. And it worked! Not an annoying connective thread in sight. This is a new section of fabric:

Whooohoo. I got a lil scrap happy. A blade that was destined for the landfill is back in the game. I say it's worth it... considering $15 is the cost of three Fiskars replacement blades, which for me would go rather quickly. And considering the "Twist 'n Sharp" pun is spot on.

Have you tried a similar gadget, or have a fancier one? Does it work for you? What do you think?

Rotarize in peace and save your dough, my friends. P.S. I hope you enjoyed the primary color overload in this post. ;o)

when culottes attack

Sure, I'll wear heels with a circle skirt, if the occasion feels right. But I've never worn heels with shorts before.

UNTIL NOW.

Well, these ain't shorts really. They're culottes, sewn from the Tania Culottes pattern by Megan Nielsen. I researched (er, wikipedia'd) the origin/meaning of culottes, and the word used to refer to the knee-breeches worn by French aristocrats in the 16th century. Working class revolutionaries were called "sans-culottes" (literally, without culottes), which was used as a derogatory term, obvi. So basically that means I'm like royalty in these culottes, you guys. Except "culottes" now can mean "panties" in French. Great. Whatever. I can't keep up with fashion.

I haven't ordered a paper pattern via mail in ages, so the wait felt excruciating. I've become a PDF pattern junkie, looking for that quick fix. Newsflash: the Tania Culottes (and a couple other MN patterns) are now available as a PDF on her website (here), as of like yesterday. Smart thinkin', Megs.

Anyway, the pattern finally arrived and I sewed my first pair immediately. I was just so curious to see how they were constructed, after reading other bloggers mention the clever pleating system. To the untrained eye, it looks like there's a center front and back seam in a normal skirt, but it's actually a large box pleat in the front and back that is stitched several inches down the skirt then stops. A couple inches behind the pleat is the actual seat seam. All the draping of the large pleat and circle-cut legs creates the look of a skirt. Tunnel vision:

I decided to make my culottes in a knit fabric because... because! I just tend to have a higher proportion of stretchies in my stash and I liked this watercolor print. It's a stable jersey or somethin' from a local discount fabric store. The pattern calls for woven fabrics and an invisible side zipper. I eliminated the zipper, so I sewed both side seams, constructed the waistband all together then attached it as one to the waist of the culottes. I serged elastic to the seam allowance of the waist so it doesn't stretch out when I go to pull the waist over my not-so-tiny hips. So it's a bulky seam, oh well.

I finished the hem with my coverstitch machine (review of my machine is here), though it's really not necessary because these culotte legs are enormous circles and will never have to be stretched over any body part. Speaking of the legs being enormous circles, that means it's still VERY possible to flash your naughties if you lift up your leg to throw over a bicycle, for instance. The crotch seam is quite low, actually, so while these culottes help control some windy-day chaos, you're not entirely safe from a little oops moment. Just saying!

Sizing reference: For this pair I made a size S in the waist with a size L length. I should have gone down a size in the waist to accommodate the fabric's stretch, because this pair hangs lower on my waist than I think they're intended. Even at the "large" length with a saggy fit, these 'lottes are pretty short! I'm 5'7, btw.

On my first pair, I noticed the same issue that many others mentioned about making this pattern (i.e. Nette, Lladybird, Scruffy Badger): the back drooped far below the front, and took quite a bit of adjustment to even everything out. Of course, garments cut on the bias are prone to stretching out, but it seemed a little excessive. Plus, I noticed the back was drooping the very first time I held them up vertically, so it didn't seem like something that resulted from hanging or wearing.

So I did some investigation. The pattern is, in fact, drafted this way. It's not a perfect circle and the back is drafted to be 2" longer than the front and sides to accommodate your rear end. Megan did mention the slightly longer back in her description of the culottes when they were first released (here). But I guess 2" is a little generous in a non-fitted circle skirt/culotte. And 2" in addition to the natural stretching of the bias may lead to even more drooping. I decided to re-draft it so the hem is even to begin with.

I found the center point of the circle and measured everything from there. Please pardon my janky use of canned tomatoes and chilies as pattern weights. The side seam (which is the upper horizontal edge of the photo above) is about 20" long from center point to the size L length:

Sorry the measuring tape is upside down. Anyway, you'll see that as you move along the skirt to measure the bias, the hem is drafted to 22" long:

I wanted it to be the same all the way around, so I decided to stick with the longer length since my first culottes are pretty short. So I made the back 22" long all the way around, and made the front 22" long all the way around as well.

I used the altered pattern to make a second pair. And after 24 hours of hanging, the hem was still relatively even. No droopy pants! But, I must confess, now the center back is an eensy bit higher than the rest of the culottes because my badonk is in the way, so I guess I made the mistake of making the hem TOO even. Ah well, learning. If you were to adjust your pattern like I did, maybe keep a tiny bit of extra length in the back. But not a full 2 inches. Or do whatchu want. I'm not here to preach about pattern drafting.

This is my fancy version. It's still a knit, but a pretty thick one so the circley femininity is exaggerated. This is leftover fabric from a dress I made in May (seen in my MMM photos here). The fabric is spongy, hot and not very stretchy so I don't really like wearing it in the summer. It's a blue knit fabric that has black lace fused to its right side.

Word to the wise: If you're using a directional, striped or plaid fabric for these bad boys, remember that the front and back pleat seam is what the world will see in the center, so be sure to match your print there. I didn't think about it and had to manipulate the fabric after the fact.

Not truly symmetrical but the best I could do!

The Tania Culotte is a fun, unique pattern that is super quick to make. Though the garment doesn't offer all the the practicality and coverage I expected, I still enjoy wearing them and demonstrating my "culotte-reveal pose" (seen in second photo above) to unsuspecting friends.

How do you feel about wearing culottes in the year 2013? I must say I prefer these to knee breeches, the culottes of yore...