Me and More...

In my catching up on the things I've been doing, I have one thing that I'm not as late with as I might be; though to be truthful, that's because it was delayed from last November to this February. So I'm only two-months-ish late rather than six-months-ish late... Shameful: particularly as it's something I'm happy about...

 

The UK cover model with the fabulous smile is the lovely Molly Small...

Me and More Sewing is the follow-up to a book I did in 2010: Me and My Sewing Machine. That first book was a beginner's guide to sewing by machine, and this one is full of next steps, including some hand-sewing techniques, and couture techniques that I've found useful rather than just complicated.

These days, horsehair braid is made from nylon...

Horsehair braid makes a fabulous, stiff, full hem, perfect for circle skirts, though I like it in A-line skirts as well as I love a voluminous look.

Not just for vintage makes...

 This is a retro technique, but it's perfect if you're putting a zip into a fine fabric, such as thin silk – which can be a challenge with a sewing machine. Doing it by hand can be just as quick as by machine, and a lot less nerve-wracking.

One of my great loves...

Piping isn't just for cushions: it looks fantastic on clothes, too. Piped side-seams on a wool skirt; a slash of accent colour between cuff and sleeve; a detail across the back yoke of a coat... And getting piping to sit neatly and smoothly around curves and corners is easy: it really is.

These are called Suffolk puffs in the UK (and in the UK edition of this book: these pages have the US text)...

I am a huge fan of these simple-to-make embellishments, and have added them to all sorts of things, from bags to cushions to skirts. The version with a contrast centre literally makes my mouth water: it looks just like a delicious little cake or sweetie.

I'm an atheist, but something is in the detail...

It's not always the details that matter, but when they are as lovely as this, why would you skip them? This is an easy-to-add touch that'll show in glimpses, and you'll know it's there, which is what matters most.

My favourite form of patchwork...

There are half-a-dozen things to make, ideas to get you started using some of the new skills you've mastered.

Just delicious...

 Including a project using my beloved puffs. And I revel in the contrast between the textures of the stiff silk and soft velvet used here.

The US cover...

C&T are publishing this book in the US (they published the first one, too), but it has a different title and a different cover: I don't have an answer as to why...

the c word...

No, not THAT c word, and not 'cancer', and not even 'community' (my personal hated c word when used to describe an almost entirely disparate group of people): I'm on about a c word that should be positive, but increasingly isn't – craft.

Time for a brief, but hearfelt, rant – a rantette possibly.

I work as a freelance project manager and editor specialising in illustrated craft books, and I consider myself lucky in that I love my job and am always busy. More often than not I admire the skills of the authors I work with, and am inspired by their creativity and their enthusiasm for what they do. For many of them it's a struggle to balance working as they want to with the need to eat and put a roof over their heads, and I'm often impressed and moved by the extent of their commitment to their art and craft. And the publishers I work for battle onward in the face of free products on the Web (not that there is anything wrong with many of those) and the global recession (which has hit craft books at every level, from volatile currency markets making sales into foreign countries ever more difficult, to the crafter who's stopped buying books in order to keep feeding their family), to produce gorgeous and informative books. A good-looking, well-written book takes a team of variously skilled people and thousands and thousands of pounds to produce, something that people who decide to self-publish usually start to realise quite early on in the process of making their book. But I'm getting distracted here; the nature of publishing isn't the point of this rantette (we can come back to it another day; along with written English...).

This rant is supposed to be about the nature of craft; and why it's become a bit of a dodgy word. Can I direct you to Cassandra Ellis who has summed up this issue very neatly for me: 'I worry that craft and craftmanship are sliding further and further apart...' (do read her post in full, it's thought-provoking; and her book is lovely). I work in crafts, and I worry about this slide, too. Now, I'm not saying that the only good aesthetic is one that involves perfection, or that anyone should be embarrassed by early attempts at making anything: seriously, we all start somewhere and having a go at something is worthwhile in itself. But can't we do the best we can with the skills, time and materials we have? Can't we strive for excellence? What's wrong with trying hard? (Okay, the last question isn't simple if you apply it to life as a whole – though still a good question, I think – but let's not get distracted in that direction...).

Do you think we can reclaim the c word? I'm not always a fan of reclaiming words (really don't understand the desire/possibility of 'reclaiming' the word 'slut' – as in slut walk – as it IS pejorative, though the principles of the walks are certainly positive; but that's another distraction from the rant in hand...), but for centuries craftswomen and craftsmen were respected for their skills as well as their creativity; can't we make the effort to keep that true today? Whether you are spinning and dying your own yarns to create a unique Fair Isle jumper, or putting together a last-minute birthday card from ready-made bits and bobs, can we steer away from 'that'll do', and aim for 'that's the best I can do'?

What do you think?