analog me

March Debriefing

Some things I learned this March:

1: It's Still Winter Here. (ISWH)

My Son's grim reaper snow man signals the end is near for snow people--including himself.

2: When I know I should be prepared for something, I tend to have a hard time deciding how to prepare--and then get nothing done. All through February, I kept thinking I should be sewing for March, which made me procrastinate sewing for March.

3: It's probably a good thing I procrastinated, because I imagined I would be sewing Spring clothes for March. (See item 1)

4: Being cold can be a good motivator to make clothes. Too bad, I ended up ripping out most of my knitting.

5: Long underwear needs a lot of stretch.

6: Should I have an urge to sew something impractical, I should wait and see if someone else does first, and then learn from their approach. Then, I should sew while inspired, instead of trying to be practical.

7: Still, a person doesn't really need that many drapey cowls.

8: Sergers are squat, scary beasts, but I can tame them.

9: New habits can be established in 1 month, but it helps if you feel an obligation to somebody besides yourself. I have read many times that the best way to establish new habits is to clearly state your goal in a public way, find some like-minded people to join you, and document your success. It seems too simple, but it does work.

10: I can't stop wearing brown. Yet, have been on the lookout for some bright colors for Spring--the real Spring--which really is upon us.

Yes, I made these brown pants, and the brown drapey shirt too, but it looks good with blue too!

Finally, I can't stand the bizarre faces I make to self-timers. (Thanks Rachael for the photo.) Do others of you have this disorder too? (Self-Timer Facial Self- Distortion Syndrome STFSDS.)  How do you get your best pictures? And how do you feel about the headless shot?

In which I go shopping, serging and sew cowls.

I have to admit, this MMM gig, did kick my butt into sewing mode. And somehow the whole month has turned into sewing knits month.

Long underwear, sweater refashions, shirts, and then last week turned into The Week of Sewing Cowl-Necked Knit Tops (WoSCKT). Gosh, If I had had any idea that was going to happen I would have organized a sew-along or something.

First, I decided to "fix" a little unevenness on my new black T with the serger. That little beast just chewed it up more, spit out some shirt shavings and bound the mess up. I have to admit my relationship with the serger is very much based on fear at this point. I mean, the thing has knives! Anyway, I am not yet the master and the shirt was a lot worse off.

So I had to refashion my fashion and with the neckline so wonky there was nothing to do but cut the whole neck out, even it up and make a new neck opening. Then I made a loop the length of the neckline minus 10% by about 10" wide, sewed the short ends, torqued the whole thing when I folded it in half, and then put it in. Easy. Much easier than a bound neckline. I will try to get some photos up soon. 

Next, I had been staring at this Resonance Cowlneck for awhile and thinking I should be able to figure it out.

I spent much time scribbling odd drawings and zooming in and out on this .

Then the goddess (Tanit-Isis, that is) spoke--and all was clear. Or at least I finally had a clue, and then. . . outright directions. Even so, I decided to go on a spy mission.  I drove across town to enemy territory: Anthropologie.

(BTW, what is with that name?) I walked in as if I was actually there to shop and spent about 45 minutes looking for that damn top. (And they didn't have my size, so I am not even sure how it would really look on me.) Meanwhile I picked up a bunch of other things to try on.

Anyway, back in the dressing room I found that the top in question is almost as confusing in the cloth as in the photo. I did grab the striped one which helped me examine the grain line. To make my confusion worse, the sales lady kept interrupting my train of thought by knocking loudly and asking if I needed any help. "Yes," I wanted to yell, "I need help, but I don't think it's something you can help me with." (I just said no.) I had seen some stitching on the front, which I thought might be seams, but were just tacking down of the pleats. As I studied it, it became obvious that it was made pretty much as Tanit-Isis thought. 

Then I bought some pants from the sale rack (9.00, how is that possible?) and sped home. Before I could forget anything I pulled out my much-modified Lydia pattern, sliced and spread and slid it apart. Cut it out, and came up with this. (Okay, I admit, I had to cut the front twice to get it right.) 

I am amazed by myself (but even more so by the brains behind me this time, Tanit-Isis.) The only thing I did differently is stitch down the folds like the Anthro version, partly because I am so small chested that I was worried it would always pull out of shape. Also, the Anthro version has five pleats connected to five cowl folds and I made four.

I bought this (bamboo blend ?) fabric at Mill Ends, because it was cheap, but I ended up really liking it for this shirt. 

I also used up some brown jersey from my stash for a long sleeved version. It is a very stretchy, drapey bamboo lycra blend I bought this a couple years ago at JoAnns. I made this a bit differently at the top of the neckline, but it didn't matter much. 

If I look a bit stressed its because I made my teenage son take these photos, and he kept yelling "Look out the window !" at me. He also thought it would really mess with my readers if that lamp was in the first photo and not the second and I disagreed and then forgot to "Look Out the Window." I still don't know why that was so important.

As I mentioned, I saw some other things at Anthropologie and picked tried them on too. Like this cowl necked top, which I liked.

 
"Newly birthed terry erupts in a smooth motion from an already-cooled body." ???

And a pair of jeans that cost 175.00.  I didn't even know that was possible. I am so sheltered that I thought really expensive jeans were like, 75.00. That's what thrifting does to your sense of jean prices--totally warps it. Ha, ha I thought, I will just see just what is with these fancy pants, and I tried them on. Much became clear. Not only did they look great  fantastic, they were organic cotton and made in the US of A so as to be guilt-free. (No, I didn't buy them, but now I need to make jeans.)

Later, I tried to knock off that grey cowl, but I ended up with something else, mostly because my fabric was not so soft--probably because it was neither "newly- birthed" or "already cooled"--at least as far as I know. Also, the color is odd. I am calling it a muslin. I find this concept extremely liberating. If it sucks, thats because it was a muslin--I never intended to actually wear it. It was a learning experience.

It's too dark to take a photo now, anyway it's a muslin and you don't need to see it, right? Plus, I can't look out the window. 

MMM news: only one major fail, the day when I wore only handmade socks and underwear.

 

 

 

 

Me-Made-March-Madness

 When I sign up for the challenge of wearing at least two self-made clothing items every day for a month, I'm usually a little worried about having enough to wear, but as the month progresses, my real problem sets in. I start to feel like a jerk.

 

 

Today's Question:

The blogging seamstress: Is she an agent of anti-consumerism, sustainability and self-empowerment, or a symbol of self-imposed irrelevant "challenges" that clog the blogsphere?

 

 

It's one thing to spend time making stuff and writing about it, but creating a self-imposed "challenge" of what clothes to wear starts to feel a bit silly when I look at the larger world. The people of Northeast Japan, for instance are living in a real challenge right now, one not of their choice, far outside their control, with real and shocking outcomes. And many have nothing left except the very clothes on their back as they live through it. 

I like the idea of having new criteria when I get dressed in the morning, and I like the idea of trying to wear what I make and make what I will wear. But as the month goes on, the self-photography begins to feel self-indulgent and the documentation feels tiresome. My ability to have time to sew, a digital camera and computer to record my output and and internet access to spew the results all begin to feel privileged and their use ridiculous.

Then I reconsider. Sometimes it seems that the best resistance to unsustainability and despair is creation. Maybe as much as we need art and literature, we need hand-knit socks and a skirt we have sewn ourselves. I have thought about this a lot over the years and have never really come to a conclusion. (The closest I have come is in this essay which you can preview here.)

Do others suffer from these attacks of self-doubt? Or are you perhaps too busy actually getting something done ?

Is it possible that is a temporary side effect of Spring Forward into Daylights Savings Temporary Psychosis (SFDSTP)?

 

A tale of Three Sweater Refashions

When I decided to try to spend March mostly in clothes I made myself, I realized that my biggest challenge would be staying warm. I have three handknit sweaters I wear a lot, but I figured I might want more warm layers. Last year I refashioned a sweater that I enjoyed wearing, so I decided to try to make another.

First, I took a nice charcoal grey turtleneck that was too tight around the neck, and made a boring cardigan.

Sweater Before: on the chopping block

I made nice details like a grosgrain placket and used some antique glass buttons--but it's dull. The neckline is nicely scooped because I messed up the first neckband and decided to just cut it off and start over rather than trying to rip. But my feeling is. . . MEH: a half fail.

Refashioned sweater, skinnyfied jeans. and hand knit scarf

I engaged in a battle of the wills with my electronic sewing machine over the buttonholes. I programed a size in, tested it and then and tried to sew the top buttonhole. It would only make half and then sewed a giant lump of zig-zaging. I ripped it out and it repeated the process. So I then started at the bottom, worked my way up to the top making perfect buttonholes, and then had the same problem at the top again. I tried at least 5 times and then gave up and just manually made satin stitch for the second side. I can't figure out why it did not want to make the buttonhole there. Anybody else have a judgmental sewing machine?

After all that I read Jessica's post where she mentioned the "X-principle" and I decided I really wanted a V-neck cardigan. And Minnado mentioned replacing boring buttons on a grey cardigan with bright ones to avoid the dreaded "formidible-bosom" lady look. So then I felt I had a boring non-Xy, formidible but non-bosomy looking sweater. 

Next I took a really ugly, baggy sweater with moth holes in the back and produced a really odd, wadder sweater.

What the waffle was I thinking ? The after is worse than the terrible before.

I drew a picture of a cute little sweater with lace covering up the holes as inspiration and started cutting away. I made an error or two in the cutting, but it didn't matter because the result is unwearable. The front looks okay, but there is way too much lace on the back and I just cannot wear it because I would feel like Lolita as a little old lady.  So that was a total fail.

So, it was with desperation that I pulled out another thrift store sweater. This one is a vivid green with gathering around the neckband. The puckering in the center, however, was weird looking on me and I thought that a cardigan treatment might save it.

Before: this is close to the actual color 

Cutting it open did release the gathers, but it also opened up some problems because then there was no neckband to cover up the center sweater fabric so I had to wrap the grosgrain around the front and try to miter it.

Taking a fitted sweater and converting it to a cardigan also creates some problems with fit because, if you overlap the front it will be a good inch smaller than before. I decided to make button holes on both sides and close the gap with some cuff links I found in my button box. I don't know if this is a success or not-- but it will be perfect for St. Patricks Day.

St. Paddy's Day preview: a necklace I made, and a Lydia tee. Oh yes, I'm keeping it real for you with a totally cluttered  background. (How many totally random objects can you identify?)

This process reminds me why I sometimes despair with refashioning. No matter how much I intend to SLAD (thats Slow Down and Attend to Details or something like that), dealing with the contingencies of a garment designed to be something else, always demands extra attention. So much of my sewing is a result of trying to find a way to use something that I already have, that it often seems to lead to frustration. And sometimes this seems to be a metoaphor for my process in general--taking what I have and trying to make it work, when it might be best to just start over. . . just a thought.

Anyhoo, my biggest sweater refashioning problems are:

1) Different sweaters have different amounts of stretch so the sizing must be adjusted.

2) Previous neckline, cuffs and edge ribbing determine future design possibilities.

3) Cardigans require more ease and armhole depth to fit over another layer and fastenings usually must overlap.

In the end, I adapted two sweaters somewhat successfully to something I can wear, and one was just a spectacularly strange fail. 

I think more knitting is in order. 

 

 

A Depressing Post

Before sewing anything else or even taking photos, I had to finish some knitting.

 
I really enjoy knitting these because you just start in the center with 9 stitches and increase by a formula then knit on a band.

 

I think this hat is very cute (oh yeah it's brown too !) , but it also happens to be a chemo cap based on the principle of PI (PI Popper Chemo Cap).  I like the knitting yet I really wish I didn't have to be making these so often. I want to do something for those engaged in a battle for their life against a very tricky adversary, but a hat seems like such a very little thing. And yet it's something, and each one filled with my good wishes.

The only hard part about knitting a chemo cap (for me) is that you cannot use wool. Even the softest wool is too itchy. I have had the very best luck with Berroco Comfort, and TY-DY which is soft and comes in really inspiring colors. I made this for the dear friend of my mom's whose couch I slept on while I was in Seattle to be near my brother's hospital. She is a very down-to-earth person so brown seemed fitting, but I'm going to buy some of that TY-DY and make a spring version--soon.

The Me-Made-March thing is actually going quite easy. It's still winter here so I mostly wear lots of layers: a couple of which are things I have made. It's actually how I usually dress and thus rather dull. I seem to have decided to only wear make and wear brown and am starting to feel like a mole who needs to emerge from her tunnel. ( I even have this vintage shearling coat to complete the look under my arm.)

(I made the sweater, skirt, and turtleneck all in brown.)

I made another Lydia T-Shirt in black for layering and refashioned a cashmere cardigan in charcoal grey with little black buttons. What the heck am I thinking. . . I'm still mentally in mourning but this shades of grey fixation is whacked. I don't even want to take a photo of them. So I went to look through my fabric to find some more springlike colors. And maybe I need a new pledge. Something like:

I, Sigrid, of Analog Me, do swear off the brown, black, and grey. I will endeavor to wear at least two articles of clothing and some accessories in living colors every day.

How are your spring palettes ?