That Brutally Honest Friend, the Croquis

[Warning: long and rambly stream of consciousness ahead. Feel free to move along if you're not interested in reading about my hang-ups. ]

I'm finished with my nautical high-waisted shorts, including the hem and buttons, but then I realized that I have nothing to wear them with, so now I'm frantically sewing up a stripey top. But in the meantime, as I look at myself wearing the shorts, I am beginning to realize that perfectly-fitted-pants-sewing is going to be a long and ever-changing journey. See, when you make fitted pants, they emphasize all sorts of things that fitted skirts don't do (not that I make a lot of fitted skirts).

I've already written before about my body image issues, specifically with my lower body, which is part of the reason why I'm always making dresses with fitted bodices and full skirts. In trying to fit my shorts (which are still not perfect), I'm realizing that I need to look at my body a little more objectively. Instead of shying away from looking at my thighs (quick! throw on a full skirt!!), I need to know what they actually look like so that I can cover them with fabric in the most flattering way possible (and not just by throwing on a full skirt). So I made a croquis. Two, actually, from both the front and the side.

If you're wondering about the awkwardly raised arm in the first croquis, it's because I was holding my camera up to my face. I decided to try to pretend it was behind my head or something. Also, what does one do with the arms in a side croquis?

Seeing myself in my non-Elizabethan undawears, rendered as a line drawing, is, for lack of a better word, interesting. Initial thoughts: I didn't realized that my head was so large, nor my feet so oddly stubby. I already knew that I had a swayback (and avoided ever having to make that adjustment by always sewing dresses with waist seams), and my dance teacher in college had already pointed out my swayback knees. Seriously, what bendy part do I have that isn't sway? Also, my measurements indicate that I should be a pear, but the width of my shoulders makes me more of an hourglass, at least visually. No wonder why I love belted dresses. 

But the rudest shock was seeing my belly profile, as I hadn't realized that it was as rounded as it is. Before you protest that it isn't round at all, I will interject that when I was in college, it used to be entirely flat. I know, of course, that it isn't realistic to expect one's body to stay frozen at its peak, but I do wonder how much preservation work one should reasonably do. How much should one accept that aging happens, that as I get closer to thirty my body's metabolism will slow down, and it's a lost cause to retain my college figure? It just goes to show that the comment from one of Gertie's readers is SO. TRUE. "All 'thin' can ever be is 'not yet fat today' and 'not as thin as I could be.'" I need to walk away from that kind of thinking and focus on being healthy.

I was recently talking with a very dear friend about body image, and I had said that body image was not one of my "big" issues. That is, when I think about the demons I need to wrestle with, I am more likely to say selfishness, difficulty dealing with emotions, or a tendency to over-focus on the task to the exclusion of people, not body image. But looking at my croquis makes me think that maybe it was just a dormant issue, and it is now being brought to light as I think about getting older and the possibility of messing with my body by producing a small human being.

So how does making pants fit in with all of these unearthed issues? I'm not really sure. Part of me wants to stop the pants-making journey right here and go back to full skirts that sit at my natural waist, but another part of me thinks that I need to continue trying for fitted pants, as maybe that will force me to come to terms with and accept my body. Who knew that sewing could be such an effective excavator of buried issues?

Sorry for the scatterbrained post, but I just wanted a record of my thoughts. Also, I really do love so many things about my body; this post just sounds especially whiny because I'm troubled by sewing pants that fit. If you actually read this all the way through, thanks for sticking with me.

Sewing Pants Is Easy

Don't you love how they're called smile and frown lines?

Sewing pants is easy...but fitting pants is a different story. Oh, I'm sorry, were you expecting me to reveal a secret sewing tip that would suddenly make pants-sewing (or trouser-sewing, so that my UK readers don't giggle madly) miraculously simple? Because I don't have one. As far as I know, there's no pants foot that I can install or lever to engage on my machine that will suddenly make all my pants look awesome. I will say, though, that sewing pants that fit is theoretically possible given enough time and patience. How do I know? Because I've decided to face my sewing demon and actually try making pants. Okay, actually shorts, since they take less fabric, but same idea.

Rounded and full...I like their adjective choice.

The picture also seems to promise that if you make
these pants, your legs will suddenly be 1.5 times longer.

What made me suddenly decide that I could take on pants? Well, first off, I thrifted this McCall's 6266 "Carefree Patterns" pants pattern, circa 1978. I knew I wanted to start my pants journey with high-waisted sailor-esque shorts, and this looked simple (and high-waisted) enough for me -- not even a dart or fly front to be seen! I was also thrilled to open it up and find an extremely helpful and confidence boosting "Pants Fitting A B C's" insert that explained how to make the most common pants alterations.

Armed with this insert, I proceeded to cut out and sew my first muslin. I didn't take any pictures because it was so horribly laughable, but I'll just say that it somehow managed to be both smile-line city in front (indicating it was too tight) and ultra-baggy loose in the back. Also, in a fit of concern, I cut the waist way too big and ended up needing to take it back in. I ripped out the zipper (my only 7" dark blue one in my possession!) and proceeded to alter the heck out of my pattern pieces. My second pair of shorts only took an hour to sew up (hence, sewing pants is easy!), but another couple hours to alter (hello, seam ripper, you are my good friend) into public-wearability status. Even so, they've still got issues, but I'm going to leave it for now as a good-enough-for-now pair of shorts. I just need to add my sailor buttons and hem them and then they'll be totally finished.

Friends, I have been bitten by the pants bug. I am now bound and determined to make my own knock-off Clovers, possibly in denim, and possibly with a fly front. There, I'm declaring it publicly; please hold me to my promise.

Blouse #0219 Step by Step Construction, Part 2

Finished blouse, not tucked in so that you can see what it all looks like.
Also, I promise the front bottom edge is straight; no idea why it looks slanted here.

Here is the promised photo documentary of the construction of the cuffs and collar for this blouse from the VPLL 1912 Project. Part 1 of the construction is shown here.

Steampunk-Flavored Blouse: Done!

Please don't ask me what was going on with my hair. It looks like my head is on fire, except that the fire is...hair.

I am so in love with chevrons now.

Huzzah for me, for I have finished my first blouse! Complete with a front placket and cuffs and a collar and everything! And you know what? It wasn't nearly as bad as I was afraid it was going to be! And I'm also almost done with my vaguely steampunk Edwardian walking skirt as well! Isn't this amazing? Not a floral-patterned bed sheet dress in sight! Although to be fair, the skirt is made from donated curtains.

I already wrote about the construction of the main part of the blouse, complete with tricky sleeve construction. Finishing the cuffs and collar was fiddly and time-consuming, but not actually that difficult. I think I know, now, why my mom made so many blouses when she was a young seamstress. I'm claiming this blouse as my Sew Weekly inspired-by-a-family photo challenge, even though I don't have a specific photo of my mom in a home-made blouse like this; she has plenty of pictures in blouses she made herself. I will post a full write-up of the construction of those pieces as soon as I can, but in the meantime I'm just so thrilled with how this outfit is coming together.

How perfect is it that a lady at church would be getting rid of old, huge curtains in such a wonderfully steampunk color palette, and they weren't even polyester monstrosities to boot! They're actually 70/30 viscose-poly, and they say in huge letters to DRY CLEAN ONLY; I ignored this directive, of course (I'm not going to pay good money to dry clean free curtains), and washed them in my bathtub in cold water and mild detergent (to be perfectly forthcoming, Method hand soap, in pink grapefruit, in case that matters) and hung them up to dry. Walnut was concerned to see these giant dripping things in his bathtub, but he got over it. Which is good, because let me tell you, these curtains badly needed washing -- not because they were dirty, but because they smelled like a candle store had wandered into them, gotten tangled up, and then died inside. Seriously, when I opened up the bag I felt like I was being physically assaulted by potpourri. Anyway, now my skirt is pleasantly, faintly sweet-smelling.

You can see here the weird shape of the waistband.

The skirt is a simple four-gored skirt, originally based on the OOP Simplicity 8375. I made up a size 10, my usual for Simplicity patterns, only to find the waist grossly oversized. Rather than take in all the seams, I settled for pleating the back to make a vague bustle-ish thing, which looks quite nice with all the stripes, in my opinion. The pattern calls for a simple long rectangle for the waistband, but between the shortness of the blouse back and the weight of the bustle/train, I knew I needed to have a waistband that would be much higher in the back. I ended up drafting this chevron thing, which looks nice in the front but needs some help in the back. I still need to figure out how to fix the closure so that it looks better, but at least it's high enough to cover the bottom of the blouse. I am also still waiting for my American Duchess Astorias to come in so that I know where to hem the skirt; it just hits the ground in front right now when I tippy-toe. I'm considering adding horsehair braid to help the hem stand out, but I'm not sure how that would work in the back with the dragging train.

I still want to make a shoulder-strappy-holster-vest-type-thing to round out this outfit, and then once I throw on all my various dangly things I'll be well on my way to a full-on steampunk detective outfit! The only reason why I chose detective, by the way, is because of my birthday magnifying glass from Anthropologie.

I'm technically not finished with the skirt, so I won't write up a summary just yet, and I'll put the summary for the blouse in the construction post. You're welcome, Shayna.

The awesome thing about the weird sleeve construction is what a wide range of motion I have, all without ever having to set in sleeves or make gussets! I seriously want to put this sleeve construction into everything now. And again, please ignore my hair.

My Mom Made My Dreams Come True

Does Walnut's face look like he wants to use an exclamation mark?

I am only the "mother" of one cantankerous, adorable, mercurial, nosy, shedding-monster known as Walnut, and that is enough for now. Seriously, sewing with cats is nothing compared to sewing with small human beings! Even after my short once a week sessions with SHB, I must confess I get annoyed by her even-smaller-human-being brothers, so I know I'm not ready to be a mom anytime soon. I am so impressed by those of you who manage multiple small human beings, especially if they are of the under-five-years-of-age category.

Anyway, after seeing how difficult it is to wrangle three SHBs, I am even more impressed with my own mom. At one point she had a 6 year old, 4 year old, and a newborn, without even the benefit of any family nearby (my extended family was all in Hong Kong). I guess it was a little bit like old hat, though, considering that she had to drop out of primary school in HK to work to help support her family, as well as watch her multiple younger siblings. And somehow, with myself and my brother and sister underfoot, she managed to go back to college and earn her bachelor's degree in her second language, and go on to become a CPA. The crazy thing is that even while she was working that hard on making up for missed opportunities, I don't remember ever feeling neglected or lacking in attention from her in any way. She was always there to make our favorite foods for dinner, to make sure we were doing our Chinese school homework and practicing piano, and even teach us how to sew (we all made bean bags as our first project...filled with red/adzuki beans, of course, because we're azn like that). She laid down the law in terms of making sure we knew our Chinese vocab, but also let us constantly uhh, redecorate the living room...with Batman and Jurassic Park promotional materials, by rearranging all the furniture to make forts, and repaving the carpet with Lego pieces. As I got older, I took to hanging out in the kitchen with her while she made dinner, trying to learn Chinese cooking, but also sorting through feelings about boys. She is a veritable font of common sense and sound advice (even if I sometimes feel contrary about it simply because it is so sensible), and while not ooey-gooey-hugs-and-kisses-my-little-pumpkin, I have so many warm feelings when I think about the ways she showed she loves me.

One of those ways (I promise I'm being relevant to the fact that this is mostly a sewing blog now) that stands out most vividly is the dress she made for me when I was ten. Back then, I loved pink and Disney princesses and ball gowns, and I had dreams of a shiny, ruffly, fancy dress for my elementary school graduation. Well, amidst the busyness of caring for three kids, working, and studying, she somehow found the time to make me the dress of my dreams. And now that I've worked with polyester satin, I know what a fraytastic nightmare it must have been to make those multiple tiers of poly-satin (all of which need to be hemmed!), to attach all the pearl trim, and make sure the insides were finished enough that the dress lasted a whole year. I remember feeling so pretty (not a common feeling for me in those awkward years) as I floated across the stage, feeling all the tiers swish around me as I stopped to get my diploma.

Oh, 90s me, with the awkwardly large glasses and cluelessness regarding how one is supposed to produce a smile!

Now, of course, I look at the pictures of this reflective, dropped-waist (a style that most definitely does not suit me), poofy-shouldered, 90s horror, and I know I will never use it as an inspiration photo for one of those "re-create a favorite childhood outfit" challenges, but I loved it at the time and still remember the wonderful feeling and overwhelming happiness that my mom had made my dreams come true. Thank you, Mom, for your never-tiring efforts and inspiring example. Happy Mother's Day!

Blouse #0219 Step by Step Construction, Part 1

This is a long post full of lots of pictures, so if you don't care to see the making of this blouse so far in nitty-gritty detail, content yourself with this picture of Walnut "helping" me tape the pattern together. Actual blouse construction after the jump.

Oh I'm sorry, did you need to tape this pattern together?
Also, I look like a kangaroo/T.rex with my huge back legs and front legs all tucked away.

Steampunk-Flavored Blouse In Progress

This week's project: my next VPLL 1912 Project pattern, the strangely constructed #0219 blouse. At first glance, it didn't look too difficult, which is why I selected it. See, I've never made a non-stretchy top before (cat pajama Sorbetto doesn't really count), much less a button-down blouse. So, in the spirit of go-big-or-go-home, I decided that my first blouse pattern needed to not only be a multi-piece pattern, it also needed to be so vintage that it doesn't come with instructions. I thought that not having to do set-in sleeves would make it a lot easier, but let me tell you, it is the bizarrest sleeve construction I have ever seen! It's this odd zigzag of sleeve-to-underarm-to-bodice-side; I almost thought it was a mistake in the pattern at first. Anyway, after mulling it over and experimenting with pin-basting, I realized that it was not unlike sewing underarm gussets in technique, and proceeded wibble less, and sew more. And now that I've done it, I have to say it's one of the cleverest sleeve constructions I have ever seen as well! I may or may not try to duplicate this in the future if I'm feeling particularly ambitious...

The red line indicates the seam line...that's all one continuous stitch!

Also, in case you didn't notice, the fabric is printed all over with these little clocks! From far away, it kind of just looks like a drab, vaguely-floral, ugly prairie-dress print, but up close, well, you must agree with me when I say I thought it was perfect for a steampunk-y Edwardian blouse. I found it in the $1/yd bin at Fabric Planet (the same one Oona was recognized at!), so I'm not exactly sure what it is. It feels like a nice cotton lawn, though, so I figured it would work for a blouse. To bring out more of that ubiquitous steampunk-y brown color, I threw in some piping at all the relevant seams. After the brain-stress of the sleeves and the piping around corners, though, I didn't yet feel like tackling all those buttonholes, so instead I opted to just make my buttons decorative and have the front close with snaps instead.

Brass-colored filigree-ish buttons covering the hidden snaps underneath.
Also, they are attempting to distract you from noticing how rippled the bias strip got on the button band.

I'm really pleased with how nice all the seam binding looks inside!

Anti-climactic reveal of the blouse so far: pretty shapeless. Also, I didn't even try to match the print.

I know, it doesn't look like much yet. I promise it looks much better when it's tucked into a skirt and not just poofing out all over the place! So, the next step is adding the cuffs and collar. Unfortunately, the pattern doesn't come with a cuff pattern either, so it looks like I'll just be winging it with an appropriately-sized rectangle and lots of staring at the existing cuffed blouses in my wardrobe. As for the collar, it's supposed to detachable, but I really don't even know how that would work. Here are the pattern pieces...any ideas?

Both collar pieces are labelled "upper collar." You can also see the oddly shaped bodice/sleeve combo piece.