Phat

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa; it’s been a while since my last entry. My excuse is that I have a new job now which actually keeps me busy, greatly cutting down on my daytime websurfing hours. I’m trying to kick the addiction entirely, because I like my new job and want to keep it.

Anyway, here’s what I made last weekend.

Actually I finished it on the 4th, even getting a little work done on it (mostly pinning the hand-sewn parts together) while we were visiting a friend up in the mountains. I’m grateful for the amnesia that sets in once one leaves the mountains, because if I didn’t partially forget once I came home about sights like this

and this

I would run away there and never leave. Of course there’s something to be said for being able to walk, or at least drive, to places like work and the grocery store any time of year without the chance of being snowed in or careening off a cliff. And not having to worry about your cats being eaten by coyotes. (For those of you not from around here: I’m not kidding. That was a serious threat even within the city of Boulder. Although damn, I still miss Boulder.)

We did encounter some interesting, less predatory fauna:

About the red top: The fabric is allegedly vintage, from eBay. It’s got an interesting little texture to it, as you can kinda see in the bug picture above. I think it’s cotton, but it both wrinkles very easily and irons really easily, so it might be a linen or rayon blend or something. I just love the little midcentury-like triangle print.

The pattern is one I bought in about 1991 and only used once, back then. My dimensions have expanded a bit in the intervening years, and I knew I’d have to add some width to the pieces before cutting, even though the style is already pretty loose. Through the whole project I had earworms running through my head like Weird Al (Because I’m fat! I’m fat! You know it!) and the Violent Femmes (I hope you got fat! I hope you got really fat!). Since I’ve started putting so much time and thought into making things to fit my own measurements, I’ve noticed some of my existing clothes getting uncomfortably snug. I have to remember that sewing ability is NOT a free license to chow down on candy bars all day, and that I still need to be able to wear my entire wardrobe. (But the new office has free snacks!)

Anyway, amid all the self-flagellation and fear of turning into a hideous butter-troll, I also reminded myself how much happier I am now than when I made the first version of this top (though I did use some kickass fabric for it). My life was really in the crapper 15 years ago, and it got worse before it got better. Not to mention that at 40 pounds lighter, I still saw myself as even more of a butter-troll then. I wouldn’t go back for the world. Besides, I now have the skills to alter patterns when needed, and I no longer chastise myself for not fitting into clothes that were meant for someone else. But I think I will start taking the stairs more often.

The shape of the top is kind of balloony and not terribly flattering. It really drove home the realization that for most of my life I believed the main function of my clothes was to hide my grotesque body from view lest the sight of me offend the public. I always thought I completely lacked a waistline until I hit about 30 (and my butt grew), but maybe that was a delusion after all. Whatever; I’m kinda digging the retro-’90s (!!!) style, and I got lots of compliments on it when I wore it to work.

Another skirt

Finally getting around to posting about this past weekend's refashioning project…I made another skirt from button-down shirts, this time shirts that had actually been mine but never looked quite right on me (let that be a lesson not to wear off-white near my face).

The pattern was based on the one I drew for my first button-down shirt skirt, but for this one I put a border around the bottom instead of a yoke at the top. I had a moment of panic when I realized there wasn't enough of the striped fabric for the full body of the skirt - but there turned out to be just enough of the floral to make up for it, and the two contrasting panels in front and back make a nice accent.

I did have to do some piecing together on a couple panels, and by far the hardest part of this project was getting those stripes to match up. (Well, almost.) One of those things that's such a simple concept, but the execution of it is surprisingly tricky.

I think I had to make four seams like the two pictured above, and it took me at least a couple hours for that part alone.

I'm pleased with the workmanship - I forced myself to rip out and redo every seam that wasn't quite right. I used all French and flat-felled seams, so there's not an exposed raw edge on it. (Have I mentioned that it's been just within the last year or so that I learned it's okay to do that?) I wore it to work on Monday and got a ton of compliments. Quite a few people know I'm doing this refashioning thing, so they still asked me right away if I made it - but I think I am getting closer to the "Where did you get that?" skill level. (Come to think of it, I wore the Sassypants today, and no one said a word.)

In other news, I got a new job. I start next week, and I'm nervous about it. I've been doing temp work for a long time; my current job is a long-term temp gig, and I've really enjoyed it for the most part. But the company is switching temp agencies, meaning my assignment was going to end this week anyway. I would have had to sign up with the new agency - which is one of those graphics specialty places requiring a lot of testing and no guarantee of approval. I applied there once before and failed their tests, so I've just been paranoid about the prospect of them rejecting me again.

Anyway, this other company contacted me after seeing my résumé online - I keep forgetting I even have it there. I interviewed last week, got called back for a second interview, and today they told me the job was mine. It's a real job, full-time and permanent, with benefits and everything. It's daunting. But I guess now I just have to live up to their expectations.

Sassypants!

My friend Joey and I have a running joke about the word "sassypants". Its origin was an incident involving homophobia and death threats and attempted lawsuits and other decidedly unfunny things, but it's one of those "had to be there" situations where, once you're far enough removed, you can look back and laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Anyway, he gave me these khaki pants. They were actually part of the official dress code at the workplace where all the above happened. (All those references to the friend that gave me a huge pile of old clothes? Yeah, that'd be Joey.) They were in great condition, but he's kind of a wispy boy and I'm a big strapping gal. So how to make them fit? Combine them with that pair of olive-gray even-more-wispy boy pants I salvaged from the dumpster, of course.

First order of business was to get rid of the pocket flaps. What purpose do those things serve, anyway? They never lie flat and only add volume to your butt. I replaced the pockets entirely with the pockets from the other pants - a little bigger, a little more casual, and a vast improvement.

Next I added a strip of the olive pants fabric down the outside of each leg. Sewing geeks might wonder why I don't have two flat-felled seams there (and the vast majority of everyone else couldn't care less, but it's eating at me). I'd have liked that, but it would have meant ripping out the flat-felled inseam and then re-sewing it differently. So I settled for one and just used a plain seam to close up the legs. The length of the olive strips (both cut from just half of one pant leg - plenty left over for future projects!) dictated the point where I'd cut the khaki off - perfect capri length, my favorite.

There was a spot on the pocket where I'd removed the original label, so I added my own. Pretty sassy.

P.S. Hi to the reader with the template like mine (and kitty too)!

Pricey jewelry

And here's the broken gear that caused it all. The repair man gave it back to me and the first thing I thought was, "What a great necklace that would make!"

The oil problem might not have been my fault after all. He said someone had actually put oil on the motor, which you should never do, and which I didn't - I only put it around the hook and bobbin case, and it couldn't have reached the motor from there. So it must have been whoever repaired the machine last. And since it's been working fine other than the broken-gear thing, I'm not in such a hurry to take it back in for cleaning.

Today is Worldwide Knit In Public Day. I didn't do anything to commemorate it last year, and I'd been looking forward to it this year. My regular knitting group is planning to meet, but I just don't feel much like knitting or being in public right now, so I can't decide whether to go.

Grrrrr. And questions.

I took the sewing machine in to the shop. The good news is that the problem is neither my imagination nor my fault - it really does have a stripped gear that needs to be replaced. And they can get that done by tomorrow.

The bad news is that it's going to cost $80. Which I guess could be a lot worse. Also, the guy said I'd put way too much oil on it and got oil on the motor, meaning it has to be cleaned (for lots more money, of course) or it'll be ruined. Now, okay, I know I over-oiled it. But I'm skeptical about the "ruining the motor" part. I want a second opinion. I told him just to go ahead with the gear replacement for now.

So please - anyone who's reading this (is anybody reading this?) and knows something about sewing machines: Can oil really do irreparable damage to the motor, or is it more just messy? I know this machine was just cleaned a few weeks ago, before my parents brought it to me. Does that make a difference? Is it safe at least to wait a while for the cleaning so I don't have to pay for it all at once?

 

To cheer myself up after that, I stopped at a thrift store on the way home. Picked up 2 nice pairs of shoes for $4 each, and some fabric in the form of a tea towel that goes perfectly with the remnants I bought at JoAnn yesterday, and two brand-new dark brown linen scarves - I think there's enough there to make a little top.

But first this weekend I must get those editing projects done. Because I'm obligated, and because I'm getting paid.

Well, I’m miffed.

Last night, in the middle of reconstructing a pair of pants I really wanted to wear the next day, my new (old) sewing machine jammed up. The rotating hook, the circular metal thing that grabs the top thread from the needle as it comes down and interlocks it with the bobbin thread, stopped rotating. I could get it to turn occasionally by pushing it with my finger, but not consistently, and I could tell where it was sticking.

I hoped it just needed cleaning and oiling - the instruction manual says "oil once a week", and I have been using it pretty regularly for the last couple of weeks. (I don't think I've oiled my Bernina once in 23 years.) In fact I met someone today who'd had a similar problem with her machine, and oil was all it needed. So I trekked across town on my scooter in the rain to buy some oil. I brushed the lint out of the machine. I blew canned air into it. I oiled it, dismantled the bobbin case (oops, was supposed to do that first) and oiled it some more. And it still won't rotate. I think the hook is out of sync with the position it's supposed to be in when the needle comes down. Meaning I'm gonna have to take it to a shop.

So here I am with all these great refashioning ideas, unable to finish them. (Unless I want to clear a space on the table to set up my old machine, which…too much effort right now.) Ah well, I have a non-craft project I need to finish this weekend that won't be as much fun, but will pay money. Guess this is the universe telling me I'd better concentrate on that instead.

To take our minds off all that 'cause it's late and time to relax, here's a picture of my girls Blanche and Lenore on a pair of jeans that I turned into a skirt a couple months ago. Breeeeeathe. Ahhhhhh. Kitties. Good kitties.

So I've been giving this clothing recycling thing a lot of thought. (Like, when I'm at work and supposed to be thinking about logos and brochures.) I'm thinking I want to develop a definite style, but I'm not sure exactly what that style is. Like Enid, I only know what I don't want.

Everything I've seen lately in the craft area has fallen into one of a few categories. Most prominently (among DIY circles, anyway) is the whole punk rock aesthetic, the untrained, unfinished "junky-to-funky" look. Raw edges, excess, loud colors, stuff glued together because the creator hasn't learned to sew yet. Which is fine if that's where you are - young, having fun experimenting, learning and trying things out. But if I'm old enough to have tried out these trends the first time around, this is not the look I ought to be sporting today.

At the other extreme are the fine artists and fashion design entrepreneurs. Reading about them is just so damn informative, but it also reminds me how little knowledge I actually have. Which is fine too - I am a home sewer making clothes for myself and know better than to think I'm Project Runway material. (Wendy? Marla? Yeah, both waaaaay beyond me in savvy and skill.)

And then there's the third category, mostly seen among DIY crafters who've become entrepreneurs and made a career out of the things they make. Not always - but often enough to notice - their products are cutesy. Frilly. Dainty. They like to pay homage to the domestic textiles of yore and the underappreciated homemakers who used them. Nothing wrong with this, either - I find it laudable, up to the point that it becomes a cliché.

The current trends often remind me of what Douglas Coupland termed "ironism": pretending to like something ironically, when secretly you just plain like it. I had something more coherent to say about that earlier (while riding my scooter in the rain), but it's late and the thought escapes me now. Just consider the idea yourself, I guess, and see what you come up with.

Anyway. So what I want is not junky or funky or punky - much as I appreciate that aesthetic, I'm too damn old to pull it off without embarrassing myself. Right now I'm trying to make the most of my original natural hair color while I still have it. I'd rather not be branded (again) as the office nutbar. I know my creative and ambitious limits; I'm in this to make quality clothing for my own use. And others have got the tea-cozy and apron market cornered; there's no rah-rah womyn's-work-is-art statement I could make that hasn't already been made.

I want to make things that are neat and well-constructed, not sloppy. Eye-catching without being embarrassing. Unusual but not inappropriate. Creative, artistic, individual, but not wacky or zany. Thrifty, sustainability-conscious, but not impoverished-looking. I want to look like a respectable adult, but not like a soccer mom.

I'm kinda rambling here (but look how it took my mind off the sewing machine!). It's time for some sleep, so I'll leave you with this: Paul Graham says "The only style worth having is the one you can't help." That article has nothing to do with clothing, but it's relevant nonetheless and it's one of my favorites and everyone should read it. And now, good night.

Button-down shirt skirt

As promised, here's the finished skirt, made from two men's button-down shirts.

The pattern is my own design. I'm having an inordinate amount of fun playing around with measurements and calculations and drawing up pattern pieces in Illustrator. I made a muslin of this one before cutting it out - tedious, but so worth it to avoid ruining the fabric! The gores are about an inch and a half longer in back than in front (slanting up at the sides) so the hem hangs perfectly level when it's worn.

Lessons learned: Don't be stingy with the outer seam allowances on French seams. There are occasional little threads poking through the front from the raw edges - but they don't bother me enough to take the seams apart and redo them. Also the skirt is a little big in the waist, but again not really worth my time to take apart now. I'll save that for when/if it gets way too big, or if I find I just can't stand wearing it without fixing that.

Check it out.

So check this out. Wardrobe Refashion.

It's a group blog for people doing exactly what I'm doing: not buying new clothes, but making everything out of pre-existing clothes (either their own or thrifted). I just happened upon it yesterday - the last day for signing up. In fact it was already "today" in the site's home of Australia, but they were nice enough to let me in on that technicality.

Another big excitement - check this out:

A brand-new (to me) sewing machine! Actually I've inherited it from my grandma Louise, who's 94. It's a Singer Touch-n-Sew from circa 1968, in perfect pristine condition including all the original spare parts and instruction book.

Official Helper Fizzgig is shown here with part of the first project I we made on the new machine. I took two men's button-down shirts (one donated by a friend, the other fished out of the laundry-room trash can - and yes, I washed it - but can you believe someone just threw a shirt away?) and made a cute little gored drop-waist skirt. It wasn't even intentional, but the way it ended up, I can easily take it apart, take in the seams and re-gather it if I lose weight. (I hope I have that opportunity.) Here's Blanche with the disassembled shirts in an earlier stage of production.

The rug is also from Grandma - handmade by her, I believe, or at least by someone. The finished skirt turned out well, but I've already worn and washed it and thrown it on the clean-clothes heap, so pictures will have to wait until it's ironed.

Art

Last night we went to my friend Amber's art opening. Saw some art, ran into some old friends, had way too much wine and Italian food (at the restaurant next door). At the gallery across the street was a bronze casting demonstration. We'd never seen that done before, and it was fascinating. The portable forge was made out of an old clothes-dryer drum, lined with ceramic and heated by a propane tank. The woman we talked to said the regular forge they use (at one of the local colleges, I believe) cost thousands of dollars, whereas the guy spent less than $100 to make this one, and it actually works better and is easier to use.

I wish I'd had my camera with me. I had only seen molten metal on TV, I think, not up close and in person. It's just indescribable how it glows (and sets afire almost everything it touches, like grass and steel washtubs).

The big news is that I'll have an art opening of my own, of a sort, next Friday at Tennyson Gallery. I'm responsible for 1/3 of one piece that'll be in their upcoming show, "The Delicate and the Strong". Amber and I and another friend, Kelly, collaborated on it. Yes, the gallery misspelled both my first and last names on their site. I'm wondering if I even care enough to correct them. The photo on the gallery's site (haha, no link, I'm gonna make you hunt for it) shows it only partially finished. Here's Amber loading the completed version into her car:

You might, as my husband did, be wondering what those things are attached to it. "Are those…crocheted vaginas?" he asked when I brought it home. "No," I said, "actually they're knitted." I have now taken to referring to Amber as the Vagina Knitter.*

Talking to Kelly last night I mentioned my trepidation about doing the last part of the piece - her beginning part seemed so happy and joyful, and Amber's contribution so tongue-in-cheek political, that I worried my ideas would bring it down into a big whiny complain-fest. But she said I interpreted her part completely differently from what she was thinking (not a bad thing, just different) and Amber seemed to think my addition was the perfect complement. All in all I'm pleased with it. We'll leave it up to the audience to decide, I guess.

In other news, I just got my first spam comment here. Considering it's the second comment I've gotten at all, ever, I suppose I should be glad at least someone's paying attention. Yay.

*And what an amazing trick that would be!

It’s a miracle!

So this morning I was fiddling with my sewing machine, not really expecting to accomplish anything from it, and suddenly the wheel un-jammed and started turning freely again. Hallelujah Huzzah Woohoo! It's a miracle. Of course this means that whatever jammed it up in the first place is still in there waiting to strike at another inopportune moment. But for now I'm gonna stop fiddling with it and just be thankful that I don't have to spend money on fixing it.