analog me

Dress-up Apron

I'm starting to think the whole raison de' etre of the apron is for grown up women to wear something in the style of a little girl's dress-up outfit.  Having sold some aprons, I find that everyone says they want pockets and splat-proof coverage, but they buy cute ruffles, wildly cheerful prints or weird 1960's prints. 

And judging by the things I pick up in thrift stores, this isn't a new phenomenon. For example, I have one apron with an attached Kitty-Cat pot holder, and another with pink flowers and gold rick-rack over see-thru chiffon. 

Of course, I am not immune to this urge. I generally restrict my "dress up" to the wearing of an ancient, threadbare apron in a 1930's lavender print with bright yellow binding that once belonged to my crabby Gammie. Maybe the bright colors counteract certain non-euphoric feelings associated with preparing to make yet another meal. 

Other than while cooking dinner, the other time adults regularly dress up is for Halloween. The management at the local thrift store saves up all the vintage clothes, or things that are generally a little too strange for everyday wear, to sell at Halloween. So it is that I recently bought a rather odd little sun dress on the Halloween rack with an irresistible print. 

 

 

I squeezed into the dress, which was  (I hope) designed for a girl and it looked ridiculous on me. But, I decided to buy it anyway for the fabric. It just made me so damn happy.

The design was unusual: one piece of fabric, a half circle, with the bib and back cut out of the middle and a seam up the back.

 So it was very easy to refashion into a new apron to replace the now-decayed family heirloom. I just cut off the back and used it to make ties and a pocket. Then I re-sewed the facing in an apron style with the ties encased, trimmed off the extra triangles and hemmed the sides.

 

The best part of this project was at the "fashion shoot." (Basically that just means I comb my hair and try to get a family member to take a picture.)  A fire truck came down the street ! ! For most people over the age of 5 whose houses are not on fire, this is no big deal. I, however, have this thing for firemen. I think it's the way they walk around so casually while wearing giant rubber boots and huge canvas pants that just makes me stare, weak-kneed. Maybe its the dress-up thing again; here are big grown-up men (and women) who go out in public dressed-up as if they might, at any moment, rush off to put out a fire. Yet, they act like this is no big deal.  Also, I have watched them in action and they really are heroic without seeming to know it. 

So when you see my smile here, it's because they blasted their horn and waved. Well, actually they waved back.

Now I  can dress-up like a cheerful, fire truck-spotter while churning out yet another dinner.

 

T-Shirts transformed to Random Ruffles

When my husband threw several shrunken black t-shirts in the GRO (Get Rid Of) pile and took the boys off for the morning, I jumped on the rags with glee and started hacking away. T-shirt reconstruction is so liberating that way. One shirt (the rattiest) became a base skirt that the ruffles were then sewn on to.

To make a simple base skirt, look for a tutorial somewhere (Any suggestions?) or do as I do. Cut the top off a t-shirt that you will be able to fit around your hips right under the arms. I like to cut one side about 1" higher at the top than the other to accommodate my rear. Make sure you can fit the tube over your hips! Now find some thick elastic and hold it comfortably around your waist. (You can always use to top of your husband/boyfriend/brother's boxer shorts!) Add 1" and cut. Join ends overlapping 1/2" and sew securely. Fold in half and half again and put a pin at each fold so that the loop is marked in four even lengths. Do this for the skirt top too. Now turn the skirt inside out, slip the elastic inside the skirt and line up the pins from the elastic to those of the skirt and pin together. Sew the elastic to the skirt with a zig-zag while stretching the elastic to be even with the fabric. Now turn the skirt right side out, flip the elastic to the inside and sew again so the elastic is encased.

Now the fun part! Two more T's are cut freehand using a rotary cutter (or scissors) into flounces shaped like a thirds of a donut, like this: 

I was able to get about 3 from each T shirt front and back and one from each sleeve. Don't make them too perfect or you won't get that uneven look.

I connected these into large loops made from three or four lengths and trimmed the edges to be even and then pinned them on the skirt starting at the bottom.  

As you sew, stretch the skirt fabric so it is even with the flounce and sew with a zig-zag stitch. After sewing each flounce, pin the next higher row. You can adjust the lengths of the flounce layers by cutting off excess fabric or adding in length. 

Try it on, and adjust the length (with the scissors--no hemming).

When my darling came home and saw the shredded remains of his shirts on the floor surrounding a randomly-ruffled skirt he said, " I didn't EVER think my old shirts could look like that."  (I'm not sure if it was said with awe or shock.)

I used one stained, faded shirt for the base and two that had just shrunk into short boxy shapes for the ruffles. This is the prototype, and it has some wonky bits. I made the back of this skirt a little bigger than the front to accommodate my rear, then accidentally modeled it backwards, so the front is a bit saggy in the photo.(I guess there is a valid reason to put tags in clothes.) Overall I think I could put this on frontwards and wear it out of the house--at least at night,  to a dark place, perhaps by scooter? 

 

 

Analog Pickles

For years I've been yakking about making pickles. Then I tasted the pickles at Shish Cafe in St. Paul and knew I had found my inspiration. These are not the limp, vinegary things slopped aside the average sandwich. Crunchy, salty, and garlicky with just the right sourness, they are the most addictive pickles I have ever tasted. The waitress informed me that I couldn't buy them because they were only made at the restaurant during sunny weather. The owner of Shish, Leo, is originally from Jerusalem and the food is Middle Eastern--not a cuisine I or my cookbooks usually associate with pickles. So finally I decided I would just ask him how he makes them. I was pretty shocked when he said sure he would give me his recipe, because where I come from this kind of information is only passed on to one worthy heir. With a few probing questions, I got it.

"boil X 3," is shorthand for "boil it, boil it, boil it." Of course, Leo is a smart man and he made me happy, but only little the wiser as to the actual formula, so I spent several months stewing over this puzzle and reading pickle recipes. During my research, I learned that a lot of things can go wrong. Pickles can be discolored, soft, corky, shriveled, bloated, slimy, pale. I became a sort of pickle hypochondriac, imagining that if I couldn't create a good scientific formula I would create abominable pickles. 

The book Pickled by Lucy Norris finally calmed me down a little. For ages, people all over the world have been fearlessly preserving food in brines without USDA recommendations to make them dizzy with anxiety. Unlike jam making, there seemed to be a lot of latitude in brine solutions. Actually it's pretty analog. There is not some delicate pickle/no pickle balance that must be found. Instead, there is a huge gradiation of pickleness that is determined by taste and technique. Finally, I just combined Leo's ingredients with a sun pickle recipe from the internet and put it all in the sun for 4 days.

 The result was good, very good with crunch, salt, garlic and a lot of lemon-- but nothing like his. 

Some things went "wrong" too. The tops of the pickles are a little pale and the solution is cloudy because I used the sea salt on hand and not pickling salt. They are still damn fine pickles. Too bad I forgot to write down MY recipe.

Pinafore

When I was a little girl in late 60's, I remember spending most of my summers in little pinafores with bloomers that my mom made. As a preschooler I loved dresses, especially the hand-me-downs from our classy neighbors whose grandma shopped at Marshall-Fields. But growing up on a ranch in Montana, these party dresses were not so very practical, so my mom made me outfits exactly like these:

The date on this pattern is 1969, so it's probably the same one my mom used. Later, I became more of a tomboy, jeans-wearing type, but I have always remembered how comfy those outfits were. Lucky me, I found these patterns at a thrift store and had to try them out. My problem was that the pattern I really liked (like I wore) was a size 1/2 and I wanted to make one for a bigger girl, so I altered  a similar pattern from the 1970's 

 to have the curves I remember. I also made the pocket curvy.

The 1960's patterns just calls for lining the top. But I liked the 1970's idea of making it reversible. For fabric, I dug around to find something to match a plaid left over from an older project. The floral fabric was a bit too small so I pieced the shoulder straps. Finally, I sewed the straps on with vintage buttons, so as to avoid the dreaded buttonhole. (I'm wondering if I should just buy a machine with a one-step buttonhole. Is it worth it?)

 I think we called these "apron dresses," and am thinking it's time for a revival. 

Variations on a theme

I've known how to knit for over 20 years now, but lately I seem to be stuck on simple little projects. I'm embarrassed to admit that I spend much of my time knitting dish cloths. Dishcloths that soon turn into dish rags. Is it sick that I love my rectangles and see each one as a little experiment in color theory?  Or sort of crazy for someone who has exhibited "fiber art" to be churning out endless cotton rectangles that end up covered with sink-basket nastiness?

I have one bag stuffed with cotton, linen and hemp. For once, it's actually good to indulge in random skeins of cottony loveliness.  The hard/fun part is yarn arranging. I put them in piles, add one color then take one out, etc etc. I leave the piles where I can look at them for a few days. It's not messiness, just part of the pre-knitting process. 

After that, I knit a "series," usually about 4 or 5 squares. I love the ball band pattern because it is so repetitive and soothing, yet not totally mindless. Knit 5, slip 1 repeat 6 times, k1 row, purl 1 row, repeat whole process again. I can actually make mistakes doing this (!) so I let the annoying part of my brain (the lady who makes a lot of tedious to-do lists)  stay tuned into knitting, while the other part of my mind can wander around and have some fun.

Knit 5, slip 1 repeat 6 times, k1 row, purl 1 row, repeat whole process  yet again.

Does it not seem as if time is slowing down for a little while?

Later, I put them in a pile and squish them. I look at them a lot. Then I have a give away. What's left over I keep. They usually don't  match. They get dirty, stained, faded, stinky.  Then I have to make some more.

My version of the famous Ballband dishcloth: 

With main color cast on a multiple of 6 minus 1 (e.g.47, 41, 35, etc.).

Row 1: Knit (right side)

Row 2: Purl (wrong side)

Row 3, 5, 7:Color B, *knit 5, slip 1 with yarn in back* end with K5

Row 4, 5, 8: Color B * knit 5, slip 1 with yarn in front* end with K5

repeat these two rows three times, so that the carried yarn is always on the wrong side of your cloth and you have three ridges with the slipped stitch crossing in front.

Row 9: Color A: Knit all stitches making sure the slipped stitch is not twisted.

Row 10: Purl with color A

Now you do the same thing all over again except that the pattern is shifted over three stitches to make a brick pattern.

Rows 11, 13, 15: color B,* Knit 2, Slip1 With yarn in back, Knit 5* end with knit 2.

Rows 12, 14, 16: color B,* Knit 2, Slip1 With yarn in front, Knit 5* end with knit 2.

 I think you have the idea now. . .

End with rows 1 and 2. Bind off. repeat as needed.