Historical Sew Monthly #9: Brown Aviator Cap

After my whole rant about Asian-American history, I figured I pretty much had to make the rest of the components for my aviatrix costume. Since the current challenge for the HSM is to make something brown, I went ahead and made a leather aviator cap/helmet. And then I realized that to complete the outfit, I really need goggles, but that will have to happen at a later date. In the meantime, let's welcome a familiar friend, the Yellow Balloon Head Stand-In!

I only have yellow balloons because they make such good Eyes of Sauron. Much as I would've liked to see the Eye of Sauron wearing an aviator cap, though, I didn't have time for such a detailed Sharpie job, so have a cat face instead. 

Back view. The tabs are for holding the goggle strap in place, like in this cap.

About two thirds of the extant caps I found had their chin strap on the left side, so I went with that.

 Snaps on the other side, like this cap and this cap. 

Top view. I went so slowly while topstitching and was petrified of making a mistake the whole time. Worth it, though, because look how neat and professional it looks!

I didn't feel like modeling a leather cap lined in flannel while wearing a leather jacket lined in faux fur when it was 95 degrees outside, so forgive the lack of pictures of me wearing it. I'll do proper pictures once I make goggles to go with it!

If I were more patient/had more forethought, I would've gotten leather adhesive to stick the pieces together for the tabs and straps. Unfortunately, I'm not, so I left the edges raw and just stitched them together. Many extant caps have raw edges/edges that are coming apart though, so I feel okay about this. 

As always, I did lots of research via Etsy listings for vintage caps, then decided what parts I wanted to ignore and what aspects had to be kept to get the look. This being a 40s-look, it's probably the most historically accurate item I've sewn, since the materials are all pretty much the same (leather is leather, flannel is flannel, snaps are snaps, etc.) now as back then. After figuring out the pattern, the fun/tedious part was making all the little fiddly bits that make it look like a "real" aviator cap: little tabs to hold the goggle strap in place, ear flaps, and the chin strap. Since I'm not an actual aviatrix, I don't know how my version would stand up to cold winds at some-thousand feet in the air, but it certainly feels pretty warm and gives off the right impression!

Aside from the new-ness of my leather, doesn't this look like it could be an Etsy listing for a vintage WWII aviator cap?

A peek at the insides: The tabs are sewn through both the leather and the flannel lining because I wanted the lining to be held in place somewhat. The second little hole is for the eyelet under the ear flap, presumably for hearing, like in this extant cap. 

Summary:
Pattern: I started with this pattern and shrank and modified it to fit my head.
Year: Meant to be late 1930s-WWII
Fabric: Half a leather pencil skirt, originally thrifted back in 2012 for making a leather steampunk corset, but I never got around to it. I lined it with tan-colored cotton flannel, per this description of a similar cap.
Notions: The leather binding I cut myself from the waistband of the skirt, and the snaps and grommets were just from Jo-Ann's.
How historically accurate is it? I'd say 90%...my highest score ever! All the materials are pretty spot on, the pattern is comparable, and it would definitely be recognizable by people at the time. The only thing I'll fault myself on is that the leather looks too pretty. If it were a real aviatrix's cap, it'd probably be more scuffed up.
Hours to complete: Twelve? The muslining took a while, and I sewed very, very slowly and carefully since there's no seam ripping with leather! Trying to get the tabs more or less identical took a while too, as did learning to use the snap setter properly.
First worn: Not yet. I still need to make goggles.
Total cost: The skirt originally cost $8, but I only used half, and then the flannel was $2 and the snaps $6, for a total of $12.

When I said that it hadn't been worn yet, I guess technically that's not true, as SHB, Walnut, and Frodo, a lobster, and an octopus all tried it on.

The lobster looks rather dashing, don't you think?

The octopus was the only model that was able to wear it with the chin strap buttoned. It looks pretty pissed, though, probably because it doesn't actually have a chin and it's just buttoned over its tentacles. 

Stingray Plushie Pattern

Even though I'm teaching my two favorite classes, both of which are not new preps for me by any means, and my students are pretty great for the most part, this school year has still been one of the hardest I've ever had, and we're not even two months in! I think it's the struggle to balance time with SHB, time with Mr. Cation, time to grade papers (oh, how I sometimes wish I had a job that didn't require bringing work home!), and time to pursue my own interests. Poor Walnut often gets the short end of the stick, as do the papers, to be perfectly honest. SHB is so active now (and going through separation anxiety) that there's really no getting things done while he's awake. As a result, all my plans for a grand Pinterest-worthy theme party (Sandra Boynton! LOTR! Cats!) for his first birthday went out the window. Still, even if we were ordering cake and using mismatched disposable plates, the maker in me couldn't let go of at least making something, anything, just to personalize it a little. 

Since SHB's baby shower and nursery were marine-themed, I decided that making sea animal plushies/beanbags for his little baby friends was a doable undertaking that would be kind of on theme. Because Back to School Night was two days before his party (seriously, whose bright idea was it to have a birthday at such a busy time of year?!), I ended up staying up late the night before to make six of the simplest animal I could come up with: stingrays! No fiddly little flippers or fins or snouts, no appliques or weird pieces to insert. For a last minute project, it went fairly quickly and smoothly for once!

Except for this guy: his eyes make him look especially derpy, and his mouth ended up too large and off-center...ah, the perils of being the experimental prototype!

I didn't stop to take pictures while I was churning these guys out, so no tutorial here, but it's a fairly simple plushie to make. If you'd like to take a stab at your own stingrays, I've made the pattern (and brief instructions) available for download here. 

Summary:

Pattern: My own

Fabric: 1/4 yard of gray anti-pill fleece (enough for six rays)

Notions: Are polyfil fiber stuffing and beads notions?

Hours: Four, from drawing the pattern to cutting to sewing and then stuffing. Not bad at all! Assembly line stitching works really well for mass production.

Total cost: All the materials were from my stash, but they probably average out to about $1.50 each.

Will you make it again? After reading the comments on my IG posts, I'd love to make an enormous one big enough to wrap yourself in like some kind of weird sleeping bag/bed-type thing. You could sleep on the stuffed body and use the fins like blankets! Maybe one day when SHB is older he'll want such a thing. 

Final thoughts: Even though I didn't "hardcore" DIY SHB's party, I'm really glad I at least personalized this one little aspect. Plus, it was an immensely satisfying race-to-beat-the-deadline project, which is unusual. I secretly love the intense motivation I get when I'm mildly stressed and racing against the clock, but that situation usually sets me up for stupid mistakes when I'm sewing. I guess it's a testament to how easy these guys were to make that they came together so smoothly!

I don't know what it is about a whole bunch of more or less identical tiny derpy animals all gathered in one spot, but I was seriously in love with my little rays and ever so briefly considered keeping them all. Instead, I settled with posing them with my manatee made from the same gray fleece:

Speaking of the manatee, this is probably the coolest thing that's happened to one of my plushie patterns:

No, Dr. Frankenstein didn't get ahold of it. 

I don't understand most of what the article is about, but if you scroll halfway down she talks about using the manatee pattern to house a device to help stay in touch with their elderly loved ones. So neat! Also, w00t w00t female engineers!

Sewing Indie Month: the Walkley Dress

Having just finished a stressful week at work and an involved sewing project, I was ready for a no-fail sewing project. You know, a creative version of a digestif, to help decompress after a heavy (mental) meal. Enter the Walkley Dress (or should I say in walks the Walkley Dress...) and its promise of three main construction seams and just a handful of finishing seams! Perfect for a palate cleanser.

The Walkley is part of Pattern Bundle #2 for Sewing Indie Month, which is a great way to get a bunch of new popular patterns for an amazingly low price! (If you think I sound like a used car salesman, that's fine because I am actually a huge proponent of used cars. My family never bought new cars while I was growing up, and still doesn't, and they've all been good to us, so frankly I'm not really bothered by that comparison. Besides, teaching is like being a used car salesman everyday: "See this chemistry? It's excellent! You will like it so much if you give it a chance! I know chemistry don't sound super exciting but I promise you, chemistry is SO important in your life! If you learn this chemistry now, you'll get good grades AND a bonus teacher rec letter for college apps!" Wow, that was a lot longer aside than I expected it to be.) These are the patterns included in this bundle:

• Pinot Pants by Skinny Bitch Curvy Chick
• Fit and Flare Skirt by Maison Fleur
• Bess Top by Imagine Gnats
• VNA Top by Fehr Trade
• Nettie Bodysuit and Dress by Closet Case Files
• Walkley Vest & Dress by MIY Collection
• Jasper Hoodie by Paprika Patterns
• Nautilus Swimsuit by Seamstress Erin
• the new Kinga Skirt by Kate & Rose
• the new April 1962 Coat by SomaPatterns

I've had my eye on the Nettie bodysuit all summer (t-shirts that just keep riding up when tucked into skirts are a big pet peeve of mine), my pre-pregnancy bathing suit could definitely use a Nautilus replacement, and the Jasper sweater dress would be perfect with leggings come fall (which won't happen for another two months here in CA; please don't shoot me). Those are a little more involved than I want, though, plus I would have to track down appropriate fabric, so I figured I'd try out one of the less well-known patterns, the Walkley Dress. Actually, as far as I can tell the only versions out there are the original photos that come with the pattern. It's always interesting to test a new pattern, and more so if nobody else seems to have, but thankfully there's not too much potential to go wrong with a t-shirt dress! 

Having just made a knit dress with the fold-over method of finishing, you'd think I'd had enough of that questionableness. But! The Walkley has actually planned for this finish and adjusted the pattern piece accordingly, so there's no trying to get a too-small circumference to play nicely with the larger rest of the garment. I love it when designers are thoughtful like that! 

I made version #1 in an acrylic with spandex sweater knit from the remnants bin at Jo-Ann's, hemmed to be tunic-length to go with leggings and tall boots. Because it was a 4-way stretch fabric, I ended up taking up the armhole and curving in the side seams at the waist to get the fit I wanted. I didn't take pictures of the original cut, but it just looked a size too big because of how the weight of the fabric pulled it down. I thought I was getting ahead of the game when I corrected my pattern piece, but I ended up regretting it when I made up version #2 in a significantly less stretchy knit. I knew these remnants from the previous knit outfit were less forgiving, but somehow I wasn't thinking straight and made it up with the same corrections, which yielded not a body-skimming, semi-fitted comfy dress, but a gotta-suck-in-my-stomach almost body-con type fit. Oops. Oh well, at least they were just remnants, and I do like the nautical look. Lesson learned, always think carefully about fabric choice!

SHB wanted in on the photoshoot. He's in the middle of a clingy phase so if he's awake, he wants to be touching me.

Thankfully, babies make good accessories.

They also like playing with your accessories.

This is the only photo I have of the back.

Summary:

Fabric: 1 yard of acrylic with lycra sweater knit with a faint bronze pattern; see previous dress for the stripey dress fabric info

Notions: None! So simple. Love.

Hours: 2 for the first one to cut and assemble pattern, play around with serger settings, and correct the pattern, then 1 for the second one 

Total cost: $5 for the sweater knit (yay for 50% off remnants!), probably less than $2 for the other

Will you make it again? I'd like to try more adventurous slicing of the pattern, but that's dependent on getting more knit fabric. Given my current theoretical attempts to stashbust, probably not for a while.

Final thoughts: This very basic t-shirt dress is one I could have figured out on my own, but sometimes it's just nice to have somebody else figure it out for you, you know? Also, I'm kind of in love with the boat neck right now, as most of my previous makes are scooped/V-neck. This is a problem because SHB has figured out where milk comes from, so if my shirts are low enough in front, he'll try to reach his hand down and help himself, only to get upset when my boob doesn't come up and out like some kind of extendable hose with a milk nozzle. I'm sorry, is that TMI? At any rate, he doesn't try if my neckline is super high, so boat neck = win.

Outtakes from the photoshoot: SHB likes trying to dive out of my arms. We've had some close calls.

If you'd like to make your own grabby-SHB-proof Walkley (or, you know, other patterns), the bundle is on sale until Thursday! At $3.80 per pattern, it's pretty much the only time you'd get indie patterns for Jo-Ann's sale prices. Even better, 20% of the proceeds go to Women for Women, a charity dedicated to helping women who are affected by war and conflict. There's also a bunch of pretty great prizes for sewing up these patterns to participate in Sewing Indie Month! 

For more Sewing Indie Month bloggers and their makes from this bundle, check out:

• Casa Crafty
• Girls in the Garden
• Grey's Fabric
• Groovy Baby and Mama
• Handmade by Carolyn
• House of Pinheiro
• How Good is That?
• Lucky Lucille
• Magpie Makery
• Scruffy Badger Time
• Thread Theory
• Three Dresses Project
• Workroom Social

He's crawling so fast now! He loves all electronic things so when he realized the camera was the one making all the beeping noises, he made a sprint for it.

Oh hai, I can haz camera?

[Disclaimer: Mari invited me to help promote Sewing Indie Month and its associated pattern sales. I received the patterns for free; all opinions are my own.]

Take That, Jeb Bush!

It's not Asian Pacific American Heritage Month until May, but indulge me here and allow me to get on my soapbox for a spell.

Right before we moved away from TCOCC, I was on a roll with Historical Sew Fortnightly challenges. I was only working part time, I lived near the LA Fabric District and FIDM and its inspirational garments, and I had plenty of creative energy. I was actually in the middle of making my rich lady pirate ensemble (completed the coat, waistcoat, and shirt, still need to make pants and a cravat) when we moved, but then I started working full time again and then we were house-hunting and then I got pregnant and then I had SHB...and now here I am two years later, finally getting back into things. The HSF has turned into the Historical Sew Monthly, which is definitely an easier time frame, and I've been stewing this idea in my mind for almost a year -- plenty of time to do research and more research and then some thinking and wait, better do a little more research just in case!

What made me decide to finally take the plunge and get to sewing? Well, I'd already been thinking about sinking my teeth into a non-knit project, but then Jeb Bush went and lit a fire under my tail with his comments about "anchor babies" and Asian-Americans. While I have been fortunate to grow up in San Francisco and attend public schools with large APA populations (unlike many APAs, I have never had to be "the Asian kid"), I have definitely experienced my share of othering statements like "No, where are you really from?" and "Wow, your English is so good!" I've sat through more stories of that-one-time-I-went-to-an-Asian-country-you-look-Asian-so-you-probably-want-to-hear-about-it than I care to remember, and when it's time to play the what-celebrity-do-you-look-like-most game, most people would probably just default to Lucy Liu because she's the only really well-known Asian-American actress (although there was also Anna May Wong in the 1930s!).

Just yesterday Mr. Cation and I tried to think if there were any Asian-American superheroes (and not just the one-dimensional Asian Sexy Dragon Lady/Ninja/Bruce Lee Type tropes), and all we came up with were B-list heroes like Jubilee, Wind Dragon, and Dana Tan (who is not even a superhero, just a superhero's girlfriend). Granted, we're only semi-into superheroes, but that's still pretty sad. While I love that there are more APAs in diverse fields now (instead of the stereotypical STEM fields, we've got Margaret Cho, Elaine Chao, and Jeremy Lin!), there aren't many APAs who are just cool. Okay, I guess Jeremy Lin is cool if you're a teenage boy, but I mean cool like "full of thrilling heroics," not "I can put a ball through a hoop."

Source

So when I came across the mention of Hazel Ying Lee in this random HuffPo article about famous Chinese-Americans, I was intrigued. An APA aviatrix? Who served as a WASP in WWII?! How have I never heard of her before? Especially when she has the same name as my mom! Okay, that doesn't make us related or anything, but I'm still going to claim her and others who served our country (heeeeey look, this other aviatrix has the same name as my aunt!) as part of my Chinese-American heritage.  All this to say, I made some old-timey aviatrix jodhpurs.

And now, without the belt and boots so that you can see the waist and lacings better. In bare feet, I felt like some kind of weird hobbit-pilot. 

A close-up of the waist. I'm really pleased at how neatly it all came together!

This might be the nicest facing job I've ever done. 

And a look at the lacing on the outseam. 

The inside. I didn't finish my seam allowances, but that was somewhat common at the time so I feel okay about it. 

I looked at many, many extant garments from the 1920s-1940s, and since I've never felt tied to strict historical accuracy, I boiled it all down to just a few must-haves to really get the idea across: military color (either tan, brown, olive, or dark green), side openings with buttons, buttons or laces at the outside of the knee, and that patched-on reinforcement on the inside of the leg. I didn't have a pattern and didn't want to just use this cheater method, so I went uber-historical and drafted my own pattern following these original 1912 instructions, with additional help from this 1908 drafting book for clarification. That's a couple decades earlier than my aimed-for 1930s look, but I was hoping that maybe jodhpurs were one of those garments that hadn't changed too much. Here's what my original draft looked like:

Yes, I do my drafts on the back of wrapping paper.
It's cheap and large, and it's already got those handy 1" grids printed on the back! 

And after multiple fittings and modifications, here's what my final pattern looked like:

Except without the darts. 

A comparison of the original center back seam and my new center back seam. 

I ended up eliminating the darts and taking the difference out at the center front and back seams instead, because the darts just looked poofy and hideous on the stiff twill I used, and many extant garments (including Hazel Ying Lee's) don't feature any darts at all. Even so, the final garment is pretty unflattering to my modern eye. And if you're thinking that the above pictures looked fine, that's because you didn't see the back and side view...

Um. What. Can we say hello, excess fabric?

It's like I've got room below my butt for an extra butt. 

I realize that it's supposed to be baggier and roomier than modern pants, but looking at how some 1940s jodhpurs fit, I'm inclined to think that they did get at least a little sleeker between the two world wars. I desperately want to take out some of the extra fabric at the inseam, but it's faux flat-felled and there's that huge applique over it, so I'm just going to say this is a wearable muslin. Besides, if I keep it this way I can use it as the base for a wartime Lady Edith costume. I did end up purchasing this Folkwear costume pattern, based on a 1920s outfit from the Met, so maybe I'll give the slightly-more-modern jodhpurs a try in the future. Despite the unflattering bagginess, I'm actually pretty pleased with myself for actually making these. My brain definitely got a workout, what with the research and drafting and alterations! And of course, I couldn't resist pulling out my circa 2001 leather jacket for an even sillier non-HA aviatrix look.

Old-timey filter!

Anachronistic jacket and boots ftw! 

Summary:
The Challenge: Heirlooms and Heritage
Fabric: 2 yards of 54" wide poly-cotton forest green twill, fairly stiff and inclined to resist pressing, inherited from a friend's stash
Pattern: self-drafted, following original 1912 instructions, with modifications
Year: 1912, fudged into 1930s
Notions: Eight black 7/8" plastic buttons, 1" wide black petersham ribbon for the binding, black ribbon for the lacing
How historically accurate is it? I'm going to put it at 60%, since it's a real historical pattern, but from slightly earlier, and not strictly historical materials. I got as close as I could while sticking to stash, as I'm going for the look, since I'm trying not to spend money on this. Real jodhpurs from the 1930s seem to be mostly linen or wool, although there are a couple of cotton ones and this one is even a forest green twill! Four buttons for the waist seems to be standard, as is no yoke + facing + belt loops, but the button facings tend to be invisibly attached. The petersham binding should be replaced with twill tape, and the ribbon with actual lacing cord, per this very helpful examination of an extant pair.
Hours to complete: 12, but that's not including the research.
First worn: Just for pictures, and probably not for a long time, if ever. This was more a brain exercise project than anything, but maybe if they have a history day of sorts at school I could give it an outing? Although I'd have to make an aviator cap to go with it.
Total cost: $4 for the buttons, everything else was free from other people's stashes.
Netflix queue: Suitably enough, I watched Ken Burns' epic documentary The West while sewing this, which I heartily recommend not only for the sheer amount of information, but also because it touched on a little known part of Chinese-American history, the Chinese Exclusion Act. I know it can't compare to the long list of crimes committed against Native Americans, nor is it as awful as being enslaved for hundreds of years, but it's definitely one of those things that doesn't get covered enough in US History.
Final thoughts: While I didn't use any heirlooms, and these jodhpurs are only loosely part of my heritage, I think it's still fitting for this challenge. It inspired me to do a lot of research on a less well-known part of history and gave me a sense of pride in my APA identity. While I don't know that these costume jodhpurs will be passed on as an heirloom, I certainly hope that I can pass on that sense of pride in being Asian-American to SHB. I don't want him to grow up in a world that is suspicious of him because he might be an Other who's somehow "taking advantage" of the birthright citizenship amendment. Okay, I'm done politicizing!

And then I had a patriotism fail: I was trying to do one of those saluting poses like you see in the pin-up girl pictures from WWII, but I couldn't figure out why it looked so wrong. After some Googling, I realized I had actually done a "I'm shading my eyes while looking for someone" pose instead of a salute. *facepalm*

"That Fabric Hurts My Eyes."

I love a good striped fabric, and this narrow navy and white knit with tiny silvery mylar strands woven into it has been waiting in my stash for three years. I originally purchased it with View E of McCall's 6559 in mind, but then I saw McCall's 7121 and, in the words of Barney Stinson, "newer is always better!" It seemed like a good way to make a maxi dress that would make the most of the stripes, while using less fussy cutting than my original idea. Besides, I like the idea of making a Harley Quinn sundress at some point...

It's a little looser at the waist than I'm used to for this kind of dress, and that neckline is weird, but I don't care enough to troubleshoot it. 

There's a teeny bit of swayback going on that I should probably fix in my next version. 

I constructed the dress almost entirely using my serger, with the exception of the hem and the neck and armholes, where the instructions simply said to fold over and stitch. This worked okay, but still slightly sloppy, on the neckline...but looked just pathetically Becky Home-Ecky on the armholes. Maybe it's that my jersey had less stretch to it than necessary for that finish, but I'm inclined to say that anytime you're asked to fold over a smaller circumference and then stitch to a larger circumference, you're going to end up with some amount of weird pulling and messy stitching. I'm kind of sad that I "wasted" this fabric on a dress I don't absolutely love, but I've still got enough fabric left for one of my dolman sleeve tops, and I know I love those.

Hyeeernghhh that armhole stitching. Ugh. And the mess at the V-neck. 

Quick, distract them with chevrons! Okay, never mind, even those aren't perfect. 

At least my knit hems have come a long way, though! Ever since StephC posted about hemming knits with fusible webbing to stabilize them, I've used that method to avoid wavy bumpy bunchy hems like the one on the left. 

Summary:
Pattern: McCall's 7121
Fabric: Mystery blend (suspected rayon/poly, with some silvery mylar strands in there) jersey knit from Michael Levine Loft, at least three years old. Because of how dense the stripes are, they play all sorts of tricks with the camera (and the naked eye...enough that when I was cutting out the pattern pieces, Mr. Cation said that the fabric hurt his eyes).
Notions: Steam-A-Seam for the hem
Hours: 3...the part that took the longest was cutting (no handy stripe guide like the Tiramisu pattern) and the neckline/armhole. I hate that the instructions just have you fold it over to hem, which doesn't work for the curves of the armholes, and it looks unprofessional.
Total cost: $2
Will you make it again? It's a good pattern for showing off stripes, but I won't make it again unless I have a fabric with bigger stripes. It's just too much trouble trying to line up these tiny 1/8" stripes! I'm also keen on giving that Harley Quinn dress on the pattern envelope a try!
Final thoughts: I was excited about this pattern when I got it, but went through a period of frustration and I'm-sure-this-is-going-to-be-terrible when I was trying to put it together. I should really stop following the directions on a pattern when I know I'm not going to like the finished look! I should've just done my regular binding, but it had been so long since I did this kind of finish that I thought I'd give it a try because yes, it is faster, and maybe I was exaggerating in my head how awful it was? No, no I wasn't. Although the finished dress is fine and I'll certainly wear it, I'll feel more comfortable with a cardigan on to hide the awful armhole stitching! Still, it's a nice enough overall effect.

Speaking of the cardigan, it's the one that comes with McCall's 7135, a Khaliah Ali jumpsuit pattern (and the original reason why I bought it). It's the first time I've ever sewn a shawl collar, and it was a lot easier than I expected, although invisibly hand-stitching down the collar seams like more work than warranted for an "easy" knit pattern. The cardigan definitely runs big in the arm and armscye, but since it's a very basic navy blue, I'm sure I'll wear it a lot anyway.

You can see here how thin this fabric is, as the stripes of the dress are faintly visible. 

Summary:
Pattern: McCall's 7135
Fabric: Rayon tissue knit, leftover from this dress
Notions: None
Hours: 1.5, with most of the time spent trying to fiddle the slippery fabric into place at the collar while stitching it down
Total cost: $1
Will you make it again? I'd like to try it again with a modified sleeve and a thicker, more stable knit...maybe a sweater knit?
Final thoughts: A cardigan in a tissue knit seems silly, but it works perfectly for school, where my lab classroom doesn't have functional air conditioning but my lecture classroom does, so I can layer and transition appropriately. I just wish the sleeves were tight enough to roll up, since having SHB = always having to roll up my sleeves to deal with messes.

I'm pretty sure I could fit two of my spindly arms into the sleeve, it's so Saggy Baggy Elephant!

Mediocre projects like these make me feel a little off my game with sewing. Maybe it's that I took such a long break from it because of SHB, or that mommy brain means I'm not as sharp as I was, but I really feel like I need a project that I can sink my teeth into. Only problem is, I'm usually too mentally tired to think about anything that difficult or long-term, so then I just spend my sewing time on silly little knit projects that turn out serviceable but not at all exciting (okay, the cat sweatshirt was exciting, but not technically difficult at all!). In some ways, it's not dissimilar to those articles about people living in poverty experiencing decision fatigue, but way less serious, of course.

Does anyone else ever go through this? i.e. real life (in my case, still adjusting to being a mother while working, which I know millions of people do all the time, so maybe I'm just a wuss who can't get it together) is so tiring that they just do second-rate things that aren't what they really want to be doing with their little spare time? How do you deal with it? Other working moms, how do you find time to have a life? Where do you get the mental reserves to sew Chanel jackets and tailor blazers and fit historical gowns and research new costumes? Actually no, scratch that last one -- I am so good at research -- because it's taking the research and actually putting it to use that's the difficult part for me!

From (the sadly long dead) Fyeah Seamstress Tiger tumblr. 

"Vivir con miedo, es como vivir a medias!"

Strictly Ballroom was my favorite movie when I was a senior in high school. My best friends and I were crazy about ballroom dancing and boys, so what's not to love about a cheesy movie featuring an ugly duckling who turns into a swan and gets to ballroom dance with the boy of her dreams? It's like Baz Luhrmann was trying to craft a movie specifically to appeal to us! Anyway, the key line from the film is when Fran goads Scott into dancing with her by telling him "A life lived in fear is a life half-lived!" What does that have to do with sewing? No, I'm not making ballroom dresses.

Two years ago, Mr. Cation gave me a serger for his birthday because he is a wonderful hobbit man. At first I was excited about serging All The Things, but then I got scared because of all the stories about how tricky it is to thread sergers and figure out tension and hey THERE'S A KNIFE THAT MOVES and what if I accidentally cut off my finger? So I kept making excuses for not figuring it out, like how we were moving into a new apartment so I didn't want to unpack it yet...and then the school year started and then I got pregnant and was tired all the time and then I had SHB and was really tired all the time, and before you know it, two years passed and the serger was still sitting in its nice box, and I was still scared. Finally I decided that enough was enough; it was silly to have a perfectly good serging sitting in a box just because I was afraid of messing it up. After all, a life lived in fear is a life half-lived and all. If studying the manual and reading the numerous blog posts sounded too overwhelming, I would just sign up for a class to teach me everything I need to know. Thankfully, my sewing school of choice, Cañada College, has a Basic Serging class!

Three long nights later, I had a notebook full of samples and I was no longer scared of my serger. I proceeded to do a whole bunch of sewing with both knits and fray-prone fabrics in order to make up for the previous two years. Looking at all my nicely enclosed seam allowances, I felt so silly for putting off figuring out my serger for so long. All the knit garments that could've been better finished! Oh well, at least I finally learned how to use it. And then all the power went to my head and I created a monster.

One of the garments I made during the last month was a raglan sleeve sweatshirt, which has been in regular rotation so often that I toyed with the idea of making another, identical one. I decided that was too silly, though, so I thought about what my wardrobe needed and figured a sweatshirt dress/tunic to go with leggings in the wintertime would fit the bill. I didn't want to make a plain one, though, so I started poking through my Pinterest boards for some embellishment inspiration. And as is typical for me, I got inspired by kids' clothes, namely this little girl's cat dress. Um, what was I saying earlier about identical sweatshirts being silly? I'm pretty sure this is sillier! But then I found this cat dress and this suggestion of a cat dress, for adults! I don't know, is there a point when one is too old to wear cat clothing? I'm over thirty and have a small human being who depends on me for sustenance, and I'm somewhat responsible for shaping young minds and all that jazz, should I really be wearing something so juvenile? Yes, I've worn lots of other cat clothing, but it was generally slightly more adult-looking.

This is not adult at all. Unless maybe I were a Japanese adult? They seem to revel in kawaii at all ages. 

Then I thought about the serger and how I spent two years living in fear (okay, more like two years living with intermittent guilt every time I either 1) made a knit garment, or 2) looked at the box in my closet), and decided screw it, if I want to dance my own steps...er, wear ridiculous cat clothing, I'm just going to do it, no matter what the Australian Dance Federation and president Barry Fife have to say about it!

Summary:
Pattern: McCall's 6992, modified to make it tunic-length
Fabric: Mystery sweatshirt knit (feels mostly cottony) from Elaine's husband's stash, passed on to me when they moved to Baltimore
Notions: Steam-A-Seam Lite for the appliqué pieces
Hours: Two so far, but I'm thinking I should probably go back and hand-sew around the facial features just to make sure they last through washing. I've had remarkably good luck in the past with Steam-A-Seam-ed appliqué pieces holding up, but I don't want to risk it with possibly my favorite use of it ever!
Total cost: Free, thanks to the use of someone else's stash.
Final thoughts: I feel like my cat garments just get crazier and crazier, and the more silly they are the happier I am about them. This is good, I'll get it all out of my system now, before SHB is old enough to be embarrassed by his mom's goofy outfits!