Sunday, October 24, 2010
I collect vintage patterns, and although I'm not going to reveal the true number I'm up to (it's like my weight), I will say that I have enough that if I didn't have a decent storage solution, things would be getting a little sketchy around my house. All I know is that some little sewer is going to have a grand time at my estate sale, especially if she has big boobs and has a fondness for 1930's fashion.
I found the above box at the Container Store about a year ago, and they work like a dream to store my patterns in. A lot of the patterns are pretty fragile, so I like to store them each in their own 4 mm ziplock 6x8 bag first before I file them by era. The boxes are made by Semikolon, and of course, the Container Store (at least the one in Portland, OR) doesn't sell that size anymore, so I've had to go elsewhere to secure them, because now I'm addicted to the boxes, too. They're the perfect size, 12 1/2"tall x 6 1/2"wide x 10 1/4"deep, and all vintage patterns fit nicely inside except for McCalls, which I have a larger box for. Larger Vintage Vogue's won't really go either, but regular patterns, Amy Butler and Colette all slide and nest very nicely inside these guys. If you're interested, they're called a "chemise" box, and I've been able to find them at www.organize.com and at the Storage Store in a variety of colors. The price has gone up a couple of bucks and shipping is involved, but each fits about 40-50 patterns. Having access from the top makes flipping through the patterns easy if you don't crowd them in too tightly. If you do run across then at a Container Store, snatch 'em up--they're sturdy, cute and work perfectly for a helpless addict like myself. I wonder if they have a Betty Ford for us?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
This is the fabric:
It's a 30's inspired lawn that looked perfect for summer. I'm using an old late 30's, early 40's Advance pattern which is one of the first ones I purchased when I first started being a pattern hoarder, or a pattern whoreder, which ever you prefer.
It's the version without the jacket. That middle panel has two corner seams that have always proved to have nemesis-like qualities when I am concerned. I'm not very good at this, and that's exactly why it took me seven times to put the panel in and take it out to get it sharp, symmetrical and just not looking sloppy. It was so frustrating that I had to stop in the middle and take a nap, I was so exhausted. I finally got the panel in somewhat satisfactorily, and I'm loathe to mess with it any further in pursuit of an uncertain (and elusive) perfection.
So here we are at the current state, and I think it's looking cute on the model--not so sure how it's going to look over my fat ass. Not as cute, definitely. Thank God there are no buttons to gape open like toothless spaces over my planet-sized belly. No, I'm not pregnant. I ate a deep-fried avocado chicken ball in Texas two weeks ago and it's still hanging around.
So yeah. I get how lame it is to post half a dress, but I have been feeling like a poseur, buying patterns, finding fabric and producing nothing due to my work schedule. So this is mainly for myself to prove that over the course of the year, maybe I can produce a sleeve. And by the time I have to dig paths in my house because it's full of "BEAUTIFUL FABRIC I GOT ON SALE" from floor to ceiling, I can finish one dress before the paramedics have to cut a hole in the roof and pull my dead body out with a strap under my rigor arms because there are too many sewing notions for an adult sized and non-mole person to make his way to the crapper, where my body is.
Seriously. What am I supposed to do when fabric.com has stretch bengaline for $2.49 a yard and I have a 30% off coupon? AND FREE SHIPPING? Am I NOT supposed to get every color but lilac and rose? Did you miss their promotional dupioni sale? I didn't. Wash dupioni and throw it in the dryer. You won't believe what a soft, textured fabric is created. Very Victorian, almost. Thank god they ran out of Vera Wang and Ralph Lauren, because things here were getting sketchy, as in "I think this houndstooth would be fine in the crisper drawer in the fridge as long as I camo it with lettuce, and this silk faille would do very well hiding in the piano bench." I'd simply rather have a house unnavigable by EMT's that make dresses out of friggin sheets from Goodwill. The bengaline dress is up next from a Lutterloh pattern from 1941. And oh, what surprise there was for me in THAT book of patterns. It starts with "Heil" and ends in "Holy Shit!"
That's all for now. Happy Sewing, my fellow whoarders.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Who told me to make a coat? Why did I feel I needed to make a coat? How many coats does one girl need? Did I really need another coat? (Answers: Your lack of impulse control; you were probably drunk; four, five at the max; absolutely not, you rowdy fool. You have 12).
It's absolutely ridiculous that I decided to make this coat, but to quote a line from the delightful "Being Julia," I drop-kicked all good sense and reason out the window and proclaimed, "I can't stop! Let me go my wicked ways!"
The first fabric I chose was a sage wool plaid, and it's lovely. The pattern is a 1930's wrap coat from the Vintage Pattern Library (post below). Then I walked into a local fabric store and was seduced by a brown felt wool the color of hot cocoa. It was entirely too expensive for my budget, but being the wicked creature I apparently am and acting like a girl who had far too much to drink at bar closing time, I went home with it.
I had no idea what a bronking bull I had unleashed in my dining room/sweat shop. In a word: Nightmare. If I ever work with boiled or felted wool again, I would be wise to insert a slip of tissue paper in between the layers of fabric before I cut them, otherwise, it's impossible to get it smooth. The fibers clutch to one another, giving the cruel illusion that both layers are flat when actually, the bottom layer will be all bunched up and rippled, only exposing itself after you've cut. Lesson learned. I had to recut every piece, some of which were substantially larger than it's "twin". This was especially a problem with any pattern piece I had on the fold, which there were several. My notches were all off, although in the end, it didn't prove to be as much of an issue as I expected it would.
The fabric clinging together didn't stop at cutting, however--it continued on as I began to stitch, with the top layer shrinking while the bottom layer grew MORE and only resolved itself when I switched to a larger foot AND went to a larger stitch (I started on one; ended up at three). Basically, this coat is basted together, but there was no other way to construct it without going to a larger stitch.
Although the coat is meant as a wrap coat, you can also wear it open, and being the wide collar/lapel-loving girl that I am, I'm going in that direction. I also need to add here that I LOVE TRIM. (Dirty minds excuse yourself.) Unfortunately, I don't like cheap trim (nothing says "hussy" like bric brac on a JoAnn's clearance table), and unfortunately squared, we happen to have a very nice trim shop in Eugene that is owned by a lady who loves M&J Trim even more than I do. I didn't have anything long enough in my stash from anything I got at M&J to cover the lapel (I needed four yards), so I needed something new, and she had it. Don't ask me how much a yard. DON'T ASK ME. Just look at it. It's gorgeous. Seriously. I never stood a chance. Here is the layout of the collar/lapel, and then the trim itself (I know. It's like trim porn.)
I am almost finished with the construction of the coat itself, I just have to attach the lapel, and I'm waiting for the lining fabric to come from Fabric.com. I decided to eliminate the belt and button the coat at the side waist--I had a huge Art Deco antique black glass button that's gorgeous and has been in my button drawer for 10 years waiting to be put onto a coat like this and serve its duty appropriately. I'm hoping to finish this after Thanksgiving, I'll post the pics of la Grand Dame when I'm done. Just note: Wool felt will undoubtedly drive you to Valium, gin or a bowl of brownie batter, whichever your drug of choice. I'm serious. Make sure you have any/all on hand.
I bought this pattern a couple of months ago and held onto it until I found the right fabric, a fantastic RPL black crepe from Metro Textiles in NYC (I'm not affiliated, but the next time you're in NY, you must go. The prices are really reasonable, this fabric was $10 a yard for a 54", and if you tell the owner what you're looking for, he'll start tossing bolts aside like they were toothpicks and will come up with the most beautiful things. Quite an experience). This crepe is fantastic, and really feels like vintage fabric from the 40's. The construction of this dress was pretty simple, and I didn't run into too many problems aside from the smocking at the shoulders and below the bust line (which I eventually removed; it looked too messy and the gathers look just fine on their own) and I had to take the shoulders in a bit since I'm not a shoulder-pad sort of girl. I also opted to forgo the bows and make a flower instead from a fragment of old WWII-era silk I had from a deconstructed wedding dress.
Still a little too big in the shoulders, so I'll need to take it in, but otherwise, 95% complete. I feel like Joan Crawford in The Women when I wear this. Now I just need to steal a society matron's husband and ash my cigarette in my own bathwater. While I'm still in the tub.
This was the first pattern I had ever worked on that wasn't printed; it's a DuBarry, and I'm guessing it's from about 1938-1940. The instructions were pretty straightforward and I really didn't run into any hang-ups the way I feared I might without detailed instructions on the pattern itself. I just chalked it all up using the punched holes in the pattern as a guide (I don't use tailor's tacks), and it all came together quite simply. I have other DuBarry patterns, and now I'm not quite so terrified to tackle them.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
And the bodice went well, the pleats and darts were smart and it was going to fit me well, I just knew it. And then I met the tiniest pieces of the pattern called the "neck facing."
Despite the written AND VISUAL directions, I didn't get it, and it simply did not make sense to me where and how this thing fit into my dress puzzle. I tried this way and that, I took my reading glasses to the illustration to see if I wasn't grasping the concept. It was still a mystery.
Finally, I just took my pins and placed them where it the pattern said the pieces should have gone and sewed them up. It was clear I had it wrong. I ripped the seams out and did it again. And again. And again. And again. I couldn't get anything to work, and I was trying everything. If I didn't get the piece in, the collar was unfunctioning and floppy.
It was clearly mocking me.
So I challenged my dress-in-progress to a slap fight (which I won; I have fought inanimate objects before, but this one was down in three seconds, probably because a) the arms weren’t finished yet or b) the level of my monkey rage), and I finally got the facings sort of kind of in the right way within seconds of almost enlisting help from a glue gun.
I kicked the ass of the skirt, just in case you were wondering. And, in the end, I won. Here's the dress, made from a Ralph Lauren stretch charcoal wool I got from fabric.com for an uhmazing price (my dress dummy needs a slip, the covering on it is like astroturf. It's very hard to get things to lay correctly, but it does not pull to the side when it's on as it does in the photo). I added the braided trim along the seam line, and the buttons are post-WWII vintage black glass with rhinestone centers that came in an old glassine envelope marked "West Germany". See that collar? It made me CRY.:
But I was right. I do live in this dress. I absolutely love it. It's hard to see the inverted pleat unless you're walking, but it gives the dress a very "Victoria Barkley" feel to it. It makes me want to commandeer a horse and buggy, shout "YA! YA!" and smack a bullwhip into the air as I race along because Nick has caused a whole bunch of trouble again with a group of men carrying torches. I should only wear this dress with tall black riding boots. That Miss Barbara! Mmmmm! Sassy.
I originally bought a wool sage plaid for this coat, but a week ago, I walked into 27th St Fabrics for some hem tape and saw a gorgeous wool felt in a hot chocolate color and my plans changed just like that. It's almost a boiled wool, which I love, and I think it will drape beautifully in this style. I'm still in the cutting stages; I have never worked with wool felt before and it's something of a challenge to smooth out when it's folded. In fact, it's absolutely insane. There are ALWAYS ripples on the second layer. I will prevail, however, and am on my last piece. I should have it cut out by this afternoon. I also have enough left over to make a hat (prob a cloche of some sort) and a handbag (I have a fantastic Amy Butler pattern).