A task to gladden a Virgo's heart

Thread tracing!


Look closely to see the chartreuse stitches around the edge of the pattern piece.

This is not the machine tracing that is sometimes done on a muslin, but hand thread tracing that you do right on the fashion fabric to mark stitching lines and grain lines, as described in Part 2 of the Little French Jacket Sew-along. (An explanation of the distinction between the two types of thread tracing by Coudremode helped remove my little bit of confusion about it.)

Performing this step in the construction of the jacket definitely checked off some of my boxes. Come up with an excuse to buy gorgeous silk thread in several bright colors (check!). Learn a sewing skill whose existence had not even occurred to me before (check!). Get to hang out downstairs with my husband and son, and a glass of wine, while making progress on a sewing project (check!).




The pattern I'm using is Burda magazine 02-2013-107, a Chanel-type jacket with a V-neck and a curved hemline.







My fabric is a wool tweed bouclé from Gorgeous Fabrics: black with plenty of blue and gray and some flecks of off-white, green, and ochre. Very soft and pretty, not nearly as "carpet looking" as it somehow comes across in the photographs.

I'm very much enjoying this sew-along. Next up is quilting the lining to the fashion fabric, another new-to-me skill.



A reminder about roasted vegetables, so good at this time of year, at least for those of us in the colder parts of the northern hemisphere: Cut up some of your favorites (here, it's sweet potatoes and turnips, soon to be joined by chunks of onion and celery), douse with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and any herbs you like, and roast in a hot oven until caramelized and delicious.

How's that for getting some color into this otherwise monochromatic post?

Onward and upward

A friend asked me this morning how my sewing was going. And I heard myself answering with words like "horrible" and "fail." Luckily for me, putting it into words, especially to this sympathetic and upbeat friend who sees the humor in many things, gave me exactly what I needed: a reminder to just get out of my own way already.

What I had found so dispiriting was a run of false starts and poor fabric and pattern choices, but on reevaluation no harm was done and in fact I learned a few things.

First up, a slip dress that was intended to kill two birds with one stone. One of the birds was Vogue 1287: I bought it for the dress but decided that its pleats and loads of fabric were not likely to be flattering on me. Slight pang over having bought a pattern that wouldn't be used. But wait, wouldn't the included slip make a nice little dress for the boudoir? The second bird was some beautiful and beloved georgette in my stash that I was having trouble visualizing as a garment; it's the middle one here.

Unfortunately, working with this georgette on the bias turned out to be beyond me. Even after experimenting with settings and presser feet, redoing seams, etc., I still had wonky side seams and spaghetti straps that went thick-thin-thick-thin. No picture of this one. The good news is that the slip fits and flatters, or, you know, it will when I make it up in a fabric I can handle.




Next, the lovely draped-neck dress that is Vogue 1351. I made this in a blue cotton jersey, leaving out the zipper and cutting it a bit longer. It was a pleasure to make, I like the fabric, the size is right (12 at the bodice grading to 14 at the hip), but . . . it just does not look good on me. Really. I have noticed this before about draped and cowl necks on me, as much as I like them in theory and on other people. Lesson learned. Or relearned.

There have been a few other issues with makes that didn't get as far as these two, and a missing invisible zipper foot, and so forth, but you get the idea. I was starting to lose confidence in my ability to make a garment I can live with.

Is all this as dire as I thought? Far from it! I'm getting to handle fabric . . . having fun reading other people's blogs and tutorials . . . trying things out, learning as I go . . . above all, I'm lucky enough to have the time and leisure to sew. Now that some beautiful autumn days and a chat with a friend have restored my perspective, I am off, with renewed energy and optimism.

Cooking note: If you're interested in home-style Chinese cooking (i.e., not the elaborate banquet dishes and not what passes for Chinese food in too many restaurants, at least in my part of the U.S.), take a look at Fuchsia Dunlop's Every Grain of Rice: Simple Chinese Home Cooking. We have been eating some very good dinners around here. You do need a Chinese grocery for some of the ingredients, but above is an example of the very useful pages that help you find what you want once you get there.

Burda 06-2013, #119, and what I hope is the seam method of pattern alteration

I have a new blouse!











It's a pretty simple one. The point of making it was to experiment with fitting. I would clearly benefit from a full bust adjustment -- many of my tops are either too loose at the shoulders or too tight through the bust -- but I've muddled along without knowing how to do one for a long time.

I don't think the method I used is a common one, but I'm pretty happy with how it came out. It's the seam method from the book Fitting and Pattern Alteration, recommended by Susan Khalje in the Craftsy course I'm working my way through. At the risk of overreaching here as a brand-new blogger, I'm going to try to summarize it, only because I didn't find much about this method online. So just skip this part if you want, obviously.

If I understand the basics of this method correctly (and that's a huge IF; this was not at all easy for me to figure out so please point me toward better information if you can!), the idea is to make your alterations right at the seamline to minimize distortion while at the same time preserving the length of the seamline, so that you don't have to make changes in other pieces that connect to the altered piece. To make this happen, you cut carefully just along the inside of the seamline on your pattern piece, choose points at which to clip "hinges" through the seam allowance just to the outside of the seamline so you can overlap and/or spread as you need to, and then redraw dart lines etc.

Below is what I ended up with. Toward the top of the photo, you can just see an overlapped piece of seam allowance where I made one of the hinges. (The slash through the middle of the dart does not interfere with the integrity of the seamline since that extra fabric will be gone once you sew the dart.)

I give this method bonus points because, since you're working with the seamline, not the cutting line, you don't have to add a seam allowance when you trace patterns from magazines like Burda or Manequim. Though you do have to draw in the seamlines if they're not on your pattern already.

Okay, enough about that. This pattern is straightforward if you've made this type of shirt before. The only change I made aside from the FBA was to place the patch pockets a bit higher, so they didn't outline my "apexes."

This fabric is a loosely woven cotton that Mood offered in an online sale a while back. It is extremely blue. As I was making the blouse, I left it hanging off the back of a chair before I got the collar and sleeves on, and my husband pointed out that it looked almost exactly like a WalMart greeter's vest. So true! It made me laugh, but now I'll always think of that when I wear it.

The back could use some work, or maybe it's just too snug around my hips? Will keep working on how to make my clothes fit . . .



The pattern review is here.













A good dinner for a hot day:
Shred some cold roasted chicken, toss with lots of cilantro torn into big pieces, add a big handful of sliced almonds you've toasted in a dry skillet. Dress with olive oil, lemon juice, and coarse salt. Eat with good bread and wine, preferably outside. Adapted from Forever Summer, by Nigella Lawson, but she uses parsley instead of cilantro.