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...

Overlocker, schmoverlocker...

I've never been attracted by the idea of an overlocker/serger.

Partly because I've never wanted the clothes I make to look as though I bought them in a shop: I want them to look hand-made. Hopefully, they look beautifully hand-made, but certainly I don't want them to look factory-made.

Partly because I think that the seam finish an overlocker produces isn't attractive. Functional and efficient, yes, but not good-looking in the way a French seam or bound hem is.

Partly because I wriggle uncomfortably at a quick 'n' easy mentality that I have (unfairly, I admit, seeing as how they aren't sentient...) assigned to overlockers: as I've ranted before, what's wrong with making a bit of an effort? And why the hurry? Being a bit slow can be good.

Anyway, after being told by Tilly in no uncertain terms, but with great charm, that overlockers are excellently useful bits of kit, I booked on to a one-day 'how to use an overlocker' course at Morley College. And there I learned what most of you already know: that overlockers are indeed excellently useful bits of kit, and they are not as difficult to thread as I imagined.

Then I went to the Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace (as a punter rather than an exhibitor: I'm taking a year off), and Janome had a show offer on overlockers, and so...

...this arrived this morning.

In it was this.

So I am getting my patterns out, reviewing my stash, and this WILL be the winter in which I make more clothes. I'm going to aim for one garment a month. Surely that's possible...

The great catch-up...

As one wanders the blogosphere, one encounters quite a few rather surprised entries that wonder where all the time went...

Well, I was on holiday for three weeks: yes indeedio, three whole weeks. (That was why I had to late-night sew: my summer clothes had mysteriously shrunk while in winter storage...) Himself and I took our 1979 VW camper to Norway and toddled gently around the Western Fjords, an expedition made significantly easier by the power steering fitted just before we left. Camper owners of the world, I thoroughly recommend the Litesteer system, even if you aren't planning on negotiating narrow, twisting roads that sport little in the way of crash barriers and a great deal in the way of vertiginous drops. And while there wasn't much traffic on the roads, a fair percentage of what there was was large and oncoming at surprisingly high speeds in the middle of a single-track road. Himself and I have an arrangement whereby I drive and he cooks, so 2000+ miles of lorry-dodging later, I have nerves of steel.

The fjord scenery is spectacular and the camping sites splendiferous; indeed, several of the shower rooms had underfloor heating, making them more luxurious than our bathroom at home... (Which reminds me of a postcard I once bought in Alabama that defined a US Southerner as someone whose standard of living improved when they went camping: I live in South London...) So, despite the novel experience of becoming overly excited about dual carriageways, and rather more snow than I had anticipated in May, we had an excellent holiday.

Lots of truly magnificent scenery...

Camper motored perfectly throughout...

Himself up to his ears in snow... (and looking rather dishevelled around the midriff, sorry about that...)

An end-of-the-world campsite, just us and a few oddities with the world whizzing by overhead: good showers here...

Uplifting view from the camper at a more isolated campsite...

We rented campsite cabins a couple of times; groovalicious curtains...

Found a yarn shop in Florø in the far west of the fjords...

I missed Elvis, but was mollified by a bulldog show judged by this wonderously bulldoggish English chap...

I took some lace-weight yarn (my fave at the moment), a circular needle and a crochet hook on holiday with the intention of experimenting. Having spent so much time making for books recently, it was very lovely to be doing something with no deadline. It's quite definitely a WIP, and I'm not convinced...

The start of something... not sure what...

But I like the way the knitting and the crochet work together...

And when I got back, Liberty had reordered pincushions, which is very gratifying...

Fab fish courtesy of Sarah, china-hunter extraordinaire...

Very charming clog from the lovely Julie... (I twiddled about in Photoshop trying to get the label to read the right way round, but my left/right idiot-thing defeated me: that affliction is particularly trying when driving a right-hand drive car abroad...)

Where's the kissy princess? How did I end up like this?

I hugely enjoyed doing some sewing for myself and am determined to do more (plus, three weeks of holiday have made A-line pinafores a logistical necessity: I think my behind is attempting world domination all by itself...) and a trip to Fabrics Galore (one of my very favourite shops, and now – so excitingly – with an online store) elicited this...

A pinafore with a plain red bodice and a long skirt made in this? Scarlet, I blame any dipping of my toes into the waters of Goth-dom on you...

And in other news, Lefty is doing well in the US Open.

The lovely Lefty, -3 at the end of day one.

I don't have Sky, so I rely on the Guardian for coverage: I think that even if you HATE golf (and I am led to believe that, astonishingly, some people do...), this is a very amusing column.

I am the midnight sewcalist...

Pinafore number two has been a late-night affair: what is it about staying up too late that makes me think, 'this is the perfect time to start a project'. And then it's 2am and I can't see properly any more...

The fashion fabric is something-mainly-synthetic-with-a-smidgen-of-wool in brown with a fabulous gold thread check pattern: I can never resist a bit of glitter.

The threads making up the checks are metallic gold...

I bought the fabric in Birmingham's Rag Market a year or so ago for some ridiculously small amount of money, and while I love the look of it, it is very thin and floppy, and one feels that it won't wear that well. Fortunately, I had also bought a couple of metres (my default amount) of a very splendid lining: heaven knows what it's made from but it feels (and looks) rather like thin tent material. And it's in perfect green. How do I know it's perfect? Because it matches the walls in my workroom and my VW camper van, both of which are the perfect green. To add body to the pinafore and toughen up my glitter check fabric, I used the green fabric underlining-style (can it be an underlining if there isn't a separate lining?). I tweaked my pattern to have a slightly fuller skirt, cut out the check and discovered the fabric frayed horribly, so French-seamed the side seams, treating the green lining and fashion fabric as a single layer.

The seams are a tad bulky, but they actually help with the pinafore's shape...

I topstitched the facings using my lovely patchwork foot,and gold thread. It took a bit of experimentation to find the right needle, as the thread is 3-ply and quite thick; an 80 embroidery needle rejected the job,  but a 110 coped in the end. And I like the result.

Once the tension and needle size were figured out, this thread was still pretty horrible to sew with...

For probably 30 years I have had this belt buckle in my stash (parts of my stash are rather like geological strata; dig deep and you'll uncover real history). I always knew it'd be the perfect thing one day, and today was its day.

Weirdly, as I was making this pinafore there was a programme on Radio 4 about monkish haircuts in the early days of Christianity: Roman monks had circular tonsures (to echo Christ's crown of thorns; never knew that) and Irish monks had druid-inspired dos with the front of their heads shaved and long locks at the back (a kind of uber-mullet?). And those are the hair-dos of these chaps: Irish on top, Roman clinging on for dear life...

I found a vintage button in my stash for the other shoulder strap...

I am pleased with pinafore number two, so pleased in fact that I shall promote it to pinafore number one, primary pinafore.

These pinafores do look better on me than on a hanger...

I sewed!

When I started this blog (still contemplating a more attractive word), I didn't really take on board the fact that a fair few of the things I make are for books, so I can't talk about them when I make them: the publishers would be most unhappy. So, although over the last couple of months I have made quite a lot of things, I have only now made something I can show you immediately. (The book stuff will come in time...)

My pinafore looks vast in this photo...

As a statement of my firm belief that summer is finally here, I sewed myself a new pinafore. It's based on one that I bought a year or more ago and wore constantly last summer.

I drew out a pattern on brown paper and made a few changes from the original: widened the back a little, widened the shoulder straps, made the skirt a slight tulip shape with an asymmetric hem. I used a heavy cotton fabric in lichen-green from my stash (in fact, the whole project was entirely from stash; I can't decide if it's good that I have all this stuff to hand, or embarrassing for exactly the same reason). I bound the facings with red cotton bias binding and used the same binding to make a faced hem. I'm a big fan of finishing details, and of bias binding. (A brief distraction: do you know House of Alistair? Lovely bias binding.) I topstitched around the neckline and armholes using a new-to-me patchwork foot that I feel in my water is going to be much-loved.

The two guides are removable, giving you a truly multi-purpose foot.

The facings are bound with bias binding that's simply zigzagged on. I raided my button stash and decided that a collection of vintage pearl buttons would work as jewellery.

Jewellery on both straps, and lovely topstitching from my new foot.

The hem is faced using the hidden bias binding method in Me and My...

You'll have to take my word on it that the pinafore looks less lumpen, and less vast, on me than it does on the hanger. I'm very pleased with it and shall make myself another (I have complete stash for that, too...).

Sewing Bee

I don't watch reality television because seeing people being made unhappy makes me anxious. Similarly, I can't listen to the Today programme because an argument first thing in the morning puts me in a bad mood for the rest of the day, even if it's not an argument I'm involved in. And I don't watch horror or violent films because they frighten me, and I don't like being scared (even some bits of Buffy were too much). But for a sewing show I was prepared to risk misery.

It was tense! And I found myself making snitty comments about contestants' fabric/haberdashery choices and their cutting technique: not very nice of me – talk about fast descent to beast. A friend who works in the biz said that Love, the production company, always 'cast well', and that certainly shone through: some contestants seemed to have surprisingly poor technical skills/fabric savvy to be sewing on prime-time, but lots of tv-friendly 'character'. I realise that that is the point of choosing them, but my simple little mind would have liked more sewing expertise to relish.

The jump from A-line skirt and neckline alteration to fitted-dress-on-someone-you've-never-met-before seemed huge. I did feel for Tilly, faced with an FBA on such a fitted bodice. Do you think the models were chosen to influence the dress outcomes? Or is that overly cynical of me?

What was all that about the laundry bag? The worst set of fantastically brief instructions ever! What were the 'side pieces' for? Okay, I've just looked at the book on Amazon and there's a laundry bag in the contents list, so I guess it was a tie-in to that. A really rubbish tie-in. (I haven't seen the book yet: bad of me. The bidding war for the rights was so contested and protracted that I was offered editing work on it by three different publishers at various points, but was already committed to other books.)

The presenters were a bit humourless, but at least they weren't nasty to the sewers. Even though Michelle had cocked up her dress completely, she wasn't my choice for ejection as her other pieces didn't seem badly made: her neckline alteration wasn't perfect but it was ambitious and not at all dreadful considering the time allowed, and compared to some others. Was the ejection based on tv-character rather than sewing ability? Or is that overly cynical of me, again? Or am I just missing the point of the programme?

So, to Bee or not to Bee? (A dreadful pun that's going to be used everywhere, but curiously irresistible.) I think yes; I've set it to record. Will have to watch while knitting though, so I can concentrate on the needles if it gets nasty.