Put Moar Cats on It!

A few years ago, putting birds on things was all the rage, thanks to a ridiculous sketch by Portlandia's geniuses. I like birds just fine but am really more into cats, so I did a brief holiday series where I put cats on things instead. The other thing that happened a few years ago was I potato-printed cats onto some scraps of IKEA sheet I had leftover from another project. Well, now that SHB has taken over my sewing room, I need to go through my stash and actually use stuff, like, for reals now. Maybe by the time he's ready to move to a big kid bed, I'll finally have all the boxes of fabric out of his room...hah! Like the stash will ever be used up! Anyway, I finally sewed up the cat fabric into something more useful for work than the original plan of hipster scarves.

Because the lengths of fabric were so long and narrow (about 16"x50"), I didn't have enough to do the entire blouse in one fabric. I chose the more sedate-looking seated cats for the front, and saved the slightly more "frolicky" cats for the back and the bow. Business in front, party in the back, right? The narrow length also meant that I couldn't fit the entire back pattern piece onto the fabric, so I cut it out as two pieces by adding seam allowance back to the center line. I also hate sewing fisheye darts, so I eliminated them and carved out the difference at the center back line since I was putting a seam there anyway. 

The pink line shows my new stitching line. 

I didn't even bother trying to match the print. And now that I look at the picture, I would lower the back neckline a bit.

Another problem with my limited fabric was the inability to make a bias-cut collar/bow. I was originally going to leave it off entirely and just make it a sleeveless faux-Colette-Aster, but it just looked like it was missing something. Remembering this blouse that I loved, but doesn't fit anymore, I took the remaining scraps and made two ties on the length-wise grain and just attached them above the button band. I think I like this version of the pussy bow blouse better because I hate having extra fabric around my neck. This way, I still get the bow but can keep the neckline clean. 

Summary:

Pattern: Simplicity 1779

Fabric: 100% cotton IKEA sheet remnants, printed with Tulip fabric paint cats. Sheets are usually quite stiff but this one is very loosely woven, so it actually drapes quite nicely while still retaining just enough body for a blouse like this.

Notions: Interfacing for the button band, bias tape for the neck and armholes, six 1/2" gray buttons (the pattern calls for 5, but I would've had gaping at the bust with that arrangement)

Hours: About five? This happened over the course of two weeks, so I don't really remember/know anymore. 

Will you make it again? Possibly? This is definitely a good basic work blouse. 

Total cost: This was a remnant of a sheet from the as-is section, and the buttons were a dollar, so I'm guessing maybe $3. 

Final thoughts: Since the blouse is sleeveless, it will fit under cardigans better for work, and the fact that it opens in the front makes it nursing accessible. And let's get serious now, what's not to love about a pussy-bow blouse with self-printed cats? I've often lamented the lack of apparel-appropriate cat fabric, so I guess it's time I took matters into my own hands and made my own! 

Moar cats is always better! 

Two Turquoise Tees: BCT Chevrons and Sewasaurus!

Having finished my very involved faire garb, I needed something quick and easy to ease me back into sewing. I fished out this striped turquoise jersey from the stash, and inspired by Steph of 3hourspast's February hack of the Blank Canvas Tee, I made this chevron tee. I didn't think I could pull off the cutout in the front, so I opted to just use the back view for both the front and back. I also shortened the sleeves and ignored the binding, instead just folding over and topstitching to hem the neck and armholes. I didn't bother finishing the bottom because I intend to always have this tucked in, but I may go back and add a strip to the bottom à la Renfrew if I feel particularly inspired some day.

I'm pretty pleased with my stripe-matching.

I need to work on my v-necks though. Folding over doesn't work so well at the point, so both the front and back have awkward bits.

Iffy point foldover. I realized belatedly that I made this wrong side out.
Oh well. I doubt anyone will really notice. And if they do, hopefully they're
not so snarky as to point it out to me?

Summary:
Fabric: Questionable content knit from a thrift store; I used about 2/3 yd and still have 1/2 yd left for yet another tee? How many turquoise-and-white striped tees does a person really need?
Notions: none
Techniques used: Cutting (and sewing) on the bias, stripe matching (mostly successfully)
Hours: A mere two! An hour for fussy cutting and pinning, but the actual sewing went pretty quickly.
Will you make this again? Not this particular combination, no, but chevrons, yes, and BCT hack, yes.
Total cost: $2
Final thoughts: Eternal gratefulness to Steph for generously releasing her pattern for our use! Also, wondering why I ever bought this color, as it doesn't match anything else in my wardrobe except this black skirt (coincidentally sprung into being at the same time as my previous BCT hacks). Oh wait, I know, I was just so excited to find actual yardage (and not just another sheet) at the thrift store I just snatched it up without thinking too hard about its place in my closet color scheme.

This tee was also intended to be a low-commitment piece to warm up for the chevron dress that I want to make for the Sew Weekly pink challenge. I'll be using Vintage Vogue 8789 to make a Horrockses-inspired dress. Wish my cutting and pinning luck -- this is not a time to be committing sewing sins!

Obviously my drawing cut out a dress several sizes too big for her, not unlike most sewing pattern models on the pattern envelopes. And she's holding her arms out weirdly to help it stay on and look like it fits properly, thereby deceiving us pattern buyers.

But because I'm still a crazed sewasaurus rex at heart, and because I found a brand new tee at the thrift store (with nothing on it, so a literal blank canvas!), I decided to go ahead and make myself a "screenprint" tee with my sewasaurus rex graphic on it. 

Reusing my freezer paper stencil, because I'm too lazy to cut another one. I had to throw it away after this, though, as I tore it when pulling it off. :( You'll also notice that I was too lazy to wash the Greek yogurt lid that I use as a paint palette after making Oona's bag. When I'm lazy, I'm really lazy.

Finished tee, sad nighttime bathroom mirror shot.

That's two turquoise tees in two days. Good thing I like this color, even if doesn't really match anything in my wardrobe except black bottoms.

A Pouch Full of Beakers

After my break-from-complicated-sewing-that-wasn't-actually-a-break messenger bag, I figured I need to make something that was actually simple. You know, something really inane, like a zippered pouch to go in said bag. But in classic me style, I had to complicate even that. I'd already made a half-dozen zippered pouches when I first started sewing; I wanted to try something new. I also wanted some kind of design detail that wasn't cutesy patchwork, plus I had all these fabric prints sitting around. So I made this reverse applique-d, lined, zippered pouch.

But wait! That little cut-out window showing a beaker seems to imply that this is a pouch full of beakers!

Allow me to take a meandering tangent to explain. As a chemistry teacher, you quickly learn that unlabeled containers are The Worst. It's bad enough when students leave unlabeled solutions after labs (although you can usually figure it out, and chances are they're not too dangerous anyway), but the true nightmare is when you start at a new school and inherit all of the previous teacher's unlabeled mysteries. You truly have no idea what that murky brownish-purplish goop is; all you know is that it was too hazardous to be disposed of according to Flinn Scientific's method #26b, i.e. flush down the drain with lots and lots of water. The best you can do is test if it's acidic or alkaline and neutralize it, and possibly evaporate the water and save the precipitate. And let it take up valuable storage space until your principal decides that it's worth paying someone to come and pick it up and dispose of it properly. And why is it that those mystery solutions are always stored in the giant 2-L flasks that you wanted to use to make solution for your next lab?

Is it copper sulfate? Methylene blue-dyed something? A toxic cobalt compound? Food coloring? Kool-Aid?! Who knows?

But I digress. Suffice it to say, well-labeled containers make me happy. It at least gives the illusion of organization, although somehow my woodburning drawer inevitably manages to also accumulate twine, eyelets, and leftover glass bits. Anyway, since this pouch is apparently advertising beakers inside, I figured I better put beakers in it. Good thing I have some!

This pouch fits two 250-mL beakers.

It'll even zip closed!

I probably won't (okay, definitely won't) be using this pouch to store beakers, but it was still a fun way to use a little swatch of my printed fabric and dress up a utilitarian pouch. I'd love to do this one day on an actual garment to showcase some other cute print in an otherwise plain fabric. How awesome would this be with a little animal head or something to make a cameo-type look? Anyway, here's how I did it:

Step 1: Use tailor's chalk or a dressmaker's pencil to sketch a rough oval on the wrong side of the lining fabric.

Step 2: Put the lining fabric and actual pouch fabric right sides together and stitch the oval, following your lines.

Step 3: Carefully cut out the middle fabric and trim as close to the stitching as you can get without cutting through it, about 1/8" or so.

Step 4: Flip the lining fabric through the hole to the other side.

This leaves a nice little window in your pouch.

Step 5: Position your showcase fabric in the window and top-stitch all the way around. Go slow, so you don't get a wonky oval like I did.

Step 6: Turn it over and trim off the extra fabric on the back. I ended up trimming to about 1/4" or so.

Use this fabric to continue making a pouch. I found this tutorial very helpful.

And there you have it! A pouch full of beakers! I was originally going to use the leftover giraffe-print from my messenger bag in the little window, but then I would've had to fill my bag with giraffes.

Not giraffes.

Linked here.

In other news, I've finished my pin-up dress, and it's looking quite nice, although not quite pin-uppy. You'll see what I mean when I've taken pictures of it.

Late Sew Weekly: The Sound of Flying Daggers Dress

Last week's Sew Weekly challenge was to come up with an outfit inspired by a musical. As soon as I read the description, I knew I was going to make something from curtains, just like Maria did in The Sound of Music. I mean, I already make dresses from bedsheets; curtains aren't much of a stretch and it's still reusing and recycling. Also, The Sound of Music is the very first musical I remember watching. I have vivid memories of lying in bed in the second or third grade singing "Sixteen Going On Seventeen" while wondering what the heck a roue or cad was. I thought Rolf was so handsome and was absolutely devastated when he turned out to be a Nazi.

At the time, Liesl's gazebo dress and Maria's laendler-dancing dress were, to my mind, the epitome of perfection. Twenty some-odd years later, I don't think I like pink enough to try making the gazebo dress, although Edelweiss Patterns has a lovely version of it. I still love the laendler dress (that scene is my favorite in the whole movie), but I'm waiting for the perfect bedsheet to recreate it. So that left the idea of curtain dresses as my inspiration.

I found the perfect pair of curtains at the thrift store -- light and gauzy, 100% cotton, and no imperfection or weird stains. There was a tear at the very top where one would string the curtain onto the curtain rod, but that didn't bother me since I wouldn't be using that part anyway.

The light green bamboo pattern reminded me of Zhang Yimou's 2004 beautiful martial arts film, The House of Flying Daggers. If you've seen the movie (which I actually wouldn't recommend, as it's so artsy that it loses its momentum, characters, and plot), you know there's a bunch of epic fighting in a bamboo forest...it's all warriors leaping out of nowhere, flying through the bamboo, throwing flying daggers. Well, it just so happens that I carved a linoleum block a month ago of a leaping cat. So it was only a matter of stewing a couple nights as I lay in bed (but not singing "Sixteen Going On Seventeen") to arrive at the idea of printing cat ninjas leaping around the bamboo on my dress.

Cheerfulest ninjas ever.

I'd been wanting to use Tanit-Isis' birthday dress pattern ever since I saw it a month or so ago, as I'm always on the lookout for free patterns. This seemed the perfect time to test it, since it looks as if it would work best with a lighter fabric. Also, it gave me the push I needed to try shirring, which I vowed to do as part of Check the Technique. I had heard that shirring is difficult on Brother machines, and indeed my first attempt was nearly disastrous (always practice on scrap fabric before the real thing!). The elastic was all loopy and didn't gather at all. Before I went so far as to adjust the tension on my bobbin case, I decided to try what one commenter suggested and just wind my thread tighter. Well, that worked beautifully and now I am over my fear of shirring! When I finished, I just sat and admired my lovely shirred lines.

Okay, so they're not exactly parallel.

The dress went together smoothly, and Tanit-Isis' directions were quite clear. However, I don't know what I was expecting, but I think in my head I thought that as soon as I put on the dress I would magically, mysteriously, suddenly look like her -- poised and gorgeous with awesome hair. Big surprise: I didn't. The dress had some weird bagging in the chest area; there was so much fabric hanging down that I looked like those grandmas whose breasts have lost all the collagen and are now sagging down to their waists. To fix this travesty, I ended up putting an extra two lines of shirring over the original ones, curving up in the underbust area to gather up some of the excess fabric.

While better, this fix still wasn't enough, so I also put in a very tight gather on each shoulder. This ended up being the trick to get it lying the way I wanted it to. Even though this detail makes it a little different from Tanit-Isis' original dress, I think I still achieved the overall look, and I confess that I kind of like these little "embellishments."

So with both The Sound of Music and The House of Flying Daggers as inspiration for this dress, it only follows that I portmanteau the titles to get...The Sound of Flying Daggers. Which sounds a lot fiercer than it actually is. Anyway, I figured that I might as well bring out my old wooden katana for the pictures.

The kawaii ninja nekos belie the seriousness of my expression.

Back view. The V looks like it should be lower, but then I don't want it to slip off my shoulders, nor do I want to add a tie across the top.

Summary:
Fabric: Thrifted cotton curtains ($6)
Notions: Elastic thread  (and fabric paint and a lino block? Do those even count as notions? Why are they even called notions anyway?!)
Hours: Four? But a lot of that was printing. And trying to figure out shirring.
Techniques used: Fabric printing, shirring
Will you make this again? Probably not, since I don't foresee needing two of this type of dress in my wardrobe.
Total cost: If I factor in the cost of the lino block and paint and elastic thread (the latter two were already in my stash), probably about $8.
Final thoughts: I can't complain about a free pattern, and I quite like how light and comfy this dress is. It's been a while since I made a non-form-fitting dress, and this is perfect for lounging in while I rewatch either movie. It's also loose enough to move freely should I need to fight, but not so drapy that it would get caught in something or hamper my movements.

Sidenote: Why is it that dresses made from curtains are all green? By all, I mean the ones in The Sound of Music and Scarlett's in Gone With the Wind. And mine, now, too. Not that my dress is in any way on par with the sumptuous luxury of Ellen Robillard's portieres.

Geek Indulgence #3: Geeking Out (and more on printmaking)

I went so far as to buy vintage chem textbooks for pictures like this.

As far as I can tell, geeking out seems to be fairly common among geeks. That is, you find a new hobby/interest/obsession, then spend as much time as possible reading about it, researching, adding to one's knowledge/skills compendium, and possibly spending a lot of money on it (as budgets allow). This is what happened to me with sewing, with Dungeons and Dragons, with drawing manga, even with teaching chemistry. And it looks like the same thing is happening to me with linocuts, as I type.

After trying potato printing and realizing that it is amazing to be able to make the same image appear over and over, I decided I wanted to do something a little more permanent. After a couple days in the fridge, even tightly plastic-wrapped, my potato stamps were looking a little worse for wear, so I started poking around the web to figure out what the next level of obsession step up in fabric-printing is. Turns out it's linocuts, which I had actually done before for letterpressing. It's been a while, though, since I used my linocutting tools, so I had to dig around all my art boxes to find everything. I cut up the two blocks I had leftover, and the whole thing was so therapeutic that I immediately rushed out to the nearest Utrecht art store and bought a whole bunch of new blocks. And spend two days carving them all. And spend two evenings reading all about printing with them. And spent two nights dreaming about making new blocks. Kind of crazy, but it was so fun and actually very typical of me. Anyway, here are the results of the last three days of work!

A bacteriophage, an amoeba, and a squid.

A beaker, a distilling flask, and an Erlenmeyer flask.

A jumping/flying cat, fungi, and a sitting cat.

I have yet to make any prints with these blocks, but that's because I was waiting for my husband to put money on my laundry card (as a spouse of, and not an actual UCLA student, I can't do it myself, which is kind of annoying) so that I could wash the sheets I picked up at the thrift store for printing. But hopefully I'll get to that soon! In the meantime, here's how I cut these blocks.

1. Start with a linoleum block. They come in all different sizes, mounted and unmounted, and are pretty inexpensive (this tiny 2"x3" one was just a dollar!). I've seen them at Dick Blick and at Utrecht, but (at least here) they're cheaper at Utrecht. You'll also need a linocutting tool; I have this set from Speedball that has a handle with interchangeable tips.

Blank canvas and some ideas, sketched on fluorescent pink post-its.

The linocutting handle and tips.

2. Sketch your drawing onto the block in pencil, or if it's a more complicated design you can print it out and use carbon paper to transfer it. Just remember that the image will print backwards. Since all of my drawings are just pictures, and not words, it didn't really matter to me; all of mine were just drawn straight onto the block.

Pencil erases (and smudges) pretty well on these blocks.

3. If the linoleum is the really stiff kind, you'll need to warm it up before cutting into it.* Since it's still really warm in SoCal, I just put mine on the windowsill. I've also heard my letterpressing teacher say that she's put them in her car to bake, or just sat on them.

Like this, but the blocks are much sharper at the corners.

4. Start cutting! I like to use the tiniest tip to carve grooves right around the lines I want, then I use progressively larger tips to remove excess material.

Be careful as you're cutting -- if the lino's not warm enough, it's easy for the tool to slip and you can give yourself a nasty cut. Not that I would know...

Scraps from one block. I did a lot of vaccuumming with my tiny dustbuster.

5. After cleaning up all the scraps and brushing all the little flecks from my blocks, I tested them with a stamp pad. Note that the stiff linoleum isn't really meant to be used with a cheap little dollar store rubber stamp pad, so these prints are more just to see if the image is more or less right; it shows where you need to carve away more material to make the empty spaces or which lines are too thick.

*Note that the squid is carved in EasyCut linoleum, which is much softer and floppier, more like a rubber stamp. It is much easier to carve and doesn't require warming, but it is also much harder to do details and much easier to accidentally cut off bits you didn't mean to cut.

 
Next week: I promise I will actually make prints. On real fabric.

Potato Printing Is Addicting!

I seriously want to potato print everything now! It's amazing what you can do with a 59¢ giant russet! The design possibilities are unlimited! Okay I'll stop using exclamation points now.

Here's how I made my potato print fabrics.

1. Get a potato. Also come up with some tentative designs.

2. Cut the potato in half. Sketch your design onto the cut end with a pen (I used a rollerball ink pen to get it to show up on the juicy potato).

Note where I started drawing the ear, then decided that was too low.

3. Humiliate your expensive knives still further by using them to carve around your shape. (Oh, the continued ignominy!) I found it easiest to cut around the shape, then insert my knife into the potato at a quarter inch depth or so, and use it as a second class lever (the potato edge being the fulcrum) to fling potato pieces off. I though briefly about using goggles after I squirted myself in the eye with potato juice (I tell you, these were exceedingly juicy potatoes!), but decided that it's not like it's hydrochloric acid or anything. Although I guess potatoes do contain relatively large amounts of catalase.

I just used my fingernail to gouge out the stripes.

Here's my other stamp.

4.Test your potatoes out by stamping them on paper a couple times.

It took a couple of tries to get my ink spread evenly. Then it turned out not to matter since I liked the variance in texture.

5. Set up your printing station. I used an old plastic cutting board and a Speedball rubber brayer to spread out and apply the Tulip brand Matte Soft Fabric Paint in ebony. Since the fabric I was printing was pretty thin, I put wrapping paper underneath to protect my table.

Also pictured: laptop to play music and East of Eden as...inspiration?

6. Stamp away! Besides using the potatoes, I also used the non-writing end of a pen to add clusters of dots to one of my fabrics.

Here are the potatoes post-printing. I wrapped them in cling film and put them in the fridge to see if I can maybe squeeze another use out of them. No idea how they'll hold up, though.

I hung up the fabrics to dry. They need to wait 72 hours before laundering, but they don't require any heat-setting with an iron or anything. I kind of want to iron them anyway, just to be sure. Then I'll hem the edges and turn them into lovely gauzy hipster scarves. You know, the pretentious kind where you're wearing a t-shirt and sandals but also a scarf. Also giant hipster glasses. 

Every time I look at my fabric it makes me so happy! Cats everywhere! In other news, my sewing machine seems to have rebelled and started wonking up the tension on everything, so it looks like I need to take it in for a check-up. Boo. I guess it's time to start cutting everything in preparation for having it back.