Posts filed in: Clothes

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Another day, another hippie dress. Not like I don't have fourteen other things I should be doing. There is so much hand sewing on these things. The bodice lining is stitched in by hand, along with the entire hem, and the sleeve hems. Two entire afternoons of hand sewing. Good thing I like — love — that sort of thing. Especially because we have a new sofa. With the chaise lounge thing. Best invention ever. Except you can't get out of it. Literally; it tilts backwards (need wedge). Finally, we have enough seating. Comfortable seating. It's not the nicest sofa in world — kind of scratchy (compared to our old microfiber one), and from Ikea (it's the Kivik). But it's kind of frumpy in a way that is really appealing to me right now. We are very hard on our furniture. We wear it out. It serves us well, but we live hard on it. Now I have three offices: the studio, the office, and the chaise lounge.

My first hippie dress was Bloomsbury. My second one (which I guess I never took a picture of), Hefeweizen. This one, guest lecturer in medieval studies at Reed College. Last night I was thinking the next/fourth one would be Sigur Ros groupie but then I changed my mind to Joanna Newsom groupie (because I was watching her on TV last night [it was TiVo-ed], and took a picture of the TV). I wore the second one to the mall the other day. I took my extraordinary, luminous niece/goddaughter shopping for some school clothes. I got some interesting looks while wearing the dress. I think some people thought I was on my way to my handmade-soap booth at the Oktoberfest. Cool!!! Or about to serve them a hot pretzel and a pitcher. I said to Andy that I thought it might be a bit too "bar maid." He said, "You say that like it's a bad thing!"

There was a barbecue with lovely new friends, there was more curried soup, there are now eggplants in the garden, there was brown sugar–banana ice cream good grief. There has been almost no reading. I thought this was going to be my summer of reading and it's been my summer of no reading. I don't know what the problem is. I picked everything up and put everything down. And then I fell asleep. Summer kind of wears me out, I think. It was good to have the long weekend of lazy. I think I needed that.

The best part of this summer were the afternoons we spent sitting in the river on our chairs together, watching the rapids and the hawks. I think of those afternoons every day. I hope there's a chance to go back one more time before it gets cool. I really, really, really, really enjoyed those afternoons.

Plummy

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Hello! How are you? We are sleeeeeeepy puppies around here. I can't seem to get up and do anything productive thank goodness. I am having a wonderful day.

One of my dreams came true on Sunday night when the boys played "Tales of Coming News" at Edgefield. I apologize to anyone standing near me because I sang every word as loud as I could (we were standing right next to the speakers). The show was just awesome. It was our fourth year and fifth time seeing the Avett Brothers. The Crystal Ballroom show a couple of years ago (or maybe it was last summer?) was so great, but I have to agree with the people on the fanboards that Sunday night's setlist at Edgefield was epic. I can't say enough about how much I (we) love this band. In thinking about it, this song is probably more of a fans' song than a song that will make you fall in love with the band if you've never heard of them before. (They're repertoire is enormous, so you will find something.) But if you click on the video (and thank you again for sending it to me, Kari, and thank you marysstikal for posting it originally), be warned there's a guy in crowd who in the first few seconds of the video drops the f-bomb about five times in a row at the top of his lungs when he hears the opening notes he is so excited. I completely understand this.

Anyway.

All of those fabrics were from JoAnn's! All on sale, too! Two more new dresses for me. I am desperate for some fall clothes. I almost never buy clothes for myself but lately I want to. I've got new tights but now I need some clothes to go with them.

I love this book. A girl can dream.

I was thinking about fall colors. Stereotypical fall colors — that is, crispy golds and jewel-like reds and shocking oranges — are not really the fall colors I see out my windows. Here, our fall colors are dusky plums and russet reds and heathery grays and blue-ish greens. Not quite as brown and muted as winter's sunless, mossy, piney, muddy colors. But still somewhat dimmer, duller than classic, sassy red, or crackling-bright orange, or blazing yellow. Sunset-lit and smudged. We have these smoky-coated plums on the table. I picked some up off the street the other day while we were out walking in the neighborhood; a tree had dropped an entire branch in the road and there were piles of them all over the place, yellowy-blue, not quite ripe. I couldn't believe how beautiful they were. I put as many as I could fit into my coffee cup to take home. We have a plum tree (two actually) but the plums are nothing like these. (I wish they were like these.) I will take a macro picture of them so we can see them better.

I think I like fall. I think it's the shortest, and, in its own way, the most precious season in the Northwest. I hear a lot of people say that about summertime here, that it's the shortest and most precious season. But for me, the season I yearn for and try to hold on to is definitely fall. (Once the rains start, that's winter.) Andy is a summertime person. He really tries to stretch it out as long as possible. We have brilliant conversations about September:

Me: "That [whatever it is we happen to be talking about] will be in the fall, in September."
Him: "That's not fall, that's still summer."
Me: "September is fall."
Him: "No, it's summer."
Me: "No, it's fall."
Him: "No, it's summer."
Me: "No, it's fall."
Him: "No, it's summer."

I really can't tell you how many times we have had this conversation. We must like it.

He has a point. September sometimes feels as hot as July here. I sit in the hot wind and the fried up grass, holding my tights and my clogs, and hope the temperature will drop like a stone.

Summer Sweetness

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August has a glow. There was twilight birdsong all around us in the field. I cried in the sunset. My sister's visit has been wonderful. The world spins and spins. The flowers. The nights. The years.

Bloomsbury

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I finished my dress today and I just love it. The vast majority of things I try to make for myself look totally horrideous, which is why I hardly ever try to make anything for myself. But I love this (though I had to fuss with the pattern quite a bit). I used mostly cotton lawn, except for the bodice front/back which is regular quilting-cotton-weight. I apologize, but I don't really know what the fabrics are named or remember where I got them (but mostly all locally, and I have a decent size collection of Liberty Tana Lawn from local and various on-line sources). I just collect fabric whenever I see something I like, and am useless with the details. This dress is made mostly of rectangles or versions of rectangles. It's all very floaty and light, with lots of folds and drapes and gathers everywhere. Rather Vanessa Bell–ish, I thought.

The Sigur Ros show at Edgefield last night was exquisite. We have been big fans for many years but this was our first time seeing them live. Lovely, gentle, amazing people. The evening just couldn't have been more beautiful.

The garden is entering the late-summer phase. I think I'm supposed to be thinking about fall/winter planting. I replanted beets and kale already. Maybe I'll plant more beets where the potatoes were . . . ? Half of my butternut squash blossoms fell off, and a bunch of the leaves. A couple of the other little squashes just shrivelled up into little puckered things. Wah. :(

It's a quiet day here. Bright and breezy and we have no plans. Wonder of wonders. I shudder with pure delight.

Summer Swell

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Dude, did you see my garden potatoes? I AM PSYCHED.

Tonight, curried potato, corn, and shrimp chowder. And it's finally cooled off so we can make the choco cake. I'll write out the recipes when I get a sec.

You know how when your one sister goes out to lunch with your other sister for the afternoon and you should be doing some chores that you've been blowing off while you're home alone but instead you decide to make an Afghani nomad dress? So weird when that happens, I know.

Calico Blossom Fever

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Many hexes! Yes, we're still here on the hexes. It's true that once you start you'd better settle in, 'cause you can't stop. Well, scratch that — you'll stop once you get a tender makings of a callous on your finger (if you're one of those people, like me, who can't use a thimble but prefer to sew through the papers, and not just baste the seam allowances at each corner) and that's probably a good sign, anyway, that you should get up and go outside. I was getting over my cold and didn't feel like doing anything, so it was good medicine.

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Also, I was just liking these colors together: milky blues, apricots, Bellini peaches, lilac-y pinks. The weensy pincushion was a gift from my friend Aimee who is the stylist at Cargo — you might still be able to get one there, I don't know.

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I'm still not sure what I will do with all of them, ultimately. I did put a few on the wrap skirt I whipped up (same as these). I've been kind of a hand-binding machine lately. In the past few weeks, I've finished binding two quilts (one was little, granted) and a wrap skirt by hand. Then I hand-appliqued three of the blossoms to the skirt. Wore it to the bagel shop and had a chicken-salad sandwich. Yes, that's as exciting as my life has been lately.

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Thrillsville.

Where I Aim to Redeem Myself

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Oh, people, you make me laugh. I think the comments on yesterday's post were the funniest things I have read in I don't even know how long. Oh that was funny. Action — or even alteration — by consensus doesn't seem like it will be an option here: "Cut off the sleeves!" "Don't cut off the sleeves!" "Gather it!" "Do NOT gather it!" "Cut it off!" "Wear a belt!" "NEVER EVER WEAR THAT."

Oh, man. It was like being back in the fiction writing workshop (but much, much funnier and without cigarettes). I think my favorite suggestion was to keep the "dress" and just look at it before going to the fabric store next time. I think I might do that, but I'll let you know. . . . Still giggling.

Now. Let's move on. Here is my Clafoutis Wrap Skirt. I'm very happy with it, so if you think it is hideous, do not tell me.

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Cute! The wrap skirt is an awesome invention. I have several and I love them. I wanted to make a few that were A) reversable, B) didn't have a tie at the waist, because I don't like the way that looks under a shirt if you're wearing your shirt untucked, and C) just fun and colorful.

To make a pattern, I used an old wrap skirt from Boden that fits me just the way I like. But then, just because I wanted to see if the pattern would match the formula, I pulled out my copy of Sew What! Skirts: 16 Simple Styles You Can Make with Fabulous Fabrics by Francesca DenHartog and did some calculations based on the book's instructions for the Breezy Beach Wrap (without the ties). And it matched almost exactly (mine had a curvier waist, which gives you a bit more flair). The book is really cool. Filled with simple instructions for designing customized patterns for just about every kind of basic skirt, it's got lots of great information for both beginning and experienced sewers. Once you've taken your measurements, the book makes it easy to draft all sorts of waistlines, amounts of flair, styles, and various lengths, and then you can just have fun choosing fabrics.

For a wrap skirt, you have three pieces — a back and two sides/fronts cut with extended front panels that overlap. I made my overlap a bit more extended than suggested because I didn't want to worry about the skirt opening in a high wind or when I sat down — so instead of extending each front piece by six inches past center, I went with seven. My dress form is both broken and smaller than I am, so the buttons are more in front on me. To make the skirt reversable, I made two identical skirts, one for the "front" (which is actually blue, not black) and one for the "lining." I cut the waists and the hems of the pattern to fit exactly, with no seam allowances. (I used about 2 1/2 yards of fabric for each — that's probably a generous estimate, but I don't mind having leftover calico around; the amount of fabric you need will depend on your size. Bring your pattern pieces with you to the fabric store if you don't want to buy too much.) Then you just place the wrong sides together, pin, baste the edges, and finish with about 5 1/2 to 6 yards of 1" double-fold bias binding (get a little extra and make a pocket). Add two buttonholes on the front panel, add two buttons to the underlapping front panel, and voila: skirt. To reverse it, I just turned it inside out, buttoned it on the inside, and added two decorative buttons to the reversed front panel. These don't do any work (the functional buttons are on the inside, now), but they just sit there and look cute.

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What I like about lining the skirt is that it is heavy. It feels very substantial when you put it on, and I personally really like that in a skirt, especially an A-line, because it makes it hang properly and keep its nice flair, without allowing the flair to all fall back in on itself. That's just me. I like to feel my skirts when I'm wearing them.

Before basting the pieces together or attaching the binding, however, I would absolutely allow the skirt to hang (baste it across the waist, first) overnight. This way it can relax and you have a better chance at making sure, once you've put the binding on, that the panels truly match up. Trim them if they don't. I didn't do that because I was too impatient, and the navy blue side of this skirt is a teeny bit longer than the yellow side, so you can see how it sort of billows on the left (in the top photo)? It doesn't take much for it to billow a bit. I pre-washed and dried all of this fabric, so we'll see what happens when it is washed again, whether it gets better or worse. Pre-washing and drying would be imperative if you are going to bind the skirt. Otherwise, things will shrink a bit at different rates, and get very puckered and wonky.

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Here it doesn't matter so much, since the patches are all wonky on their own already. This one I call Country-Club Mom. It's patchworked Madras plaid (already patchworked when purchased) and the lining is nothing special, just more homespun check, so I didn't make this reversable, but it could be. The pocket is gathered at the top with a little bit of elastic. I like pockets on my skirts. I like running out of the house with a key, a driver's license, and a ten-dollar bill tucked in there. That's my little Lulu Guinness cherry-topped straw bag in the background which I've had for years and years but I don't think I've ever actually taken out of the house. I should, though. It's cute.

These are inexpensive to make (especially if you make your own binding and use buttons from your stash, though I was hard-pressed to find pairs of buttons that matched in mine — I have about four hundred non-matching buttons) and they don't take long at all — the binding takes the longest, and you could always skip that entirely if you just added seam allowances and stitched the pieces right sides together, and turned the whole thing. Though I like the outline of the binding myself. Anyway. So that's it. No squirrels in sight, right? Unless they're on the golf course. Wait, those are gophers.

Imagination vs. Reality: Where I Am Smacked Down

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So, I had this idea, a loose dress for cool summer nights.

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I was just thinking, like, North Woods, cabin on the lake, marshmallow roasting, you know, thinking as you do when you are gonna chill out and make something, just for fun.

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I was thinking Washington Island, in Door County, Wisconsin, location of so many of my childhood camping vacations. Friday night fish frys at Findley's. Flath's cottages, where I hit one of those trees on the lawn with my dad's car (oops). Watching the Island Players plays in the big red barn. Walking home from the beach through the woods at sunset.

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You're hearing me here. Fishing pole at dusk. Braids and moccasins. A teensy bit sunburned. I was going for rustic campfire girl, and instead I got friggin

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DANIEL BOONE SLUMBER PARTY.

Boooooo. This is Simplicity 2997, which I still think is a very cute pattern. It's not the pattern. I don't think. It's me. I think it would be a very cute pattern on a skinny person, and if it were about three feet shorter. And not plaid. And basically nothing at all like this. To make things worse, I made it four inches longer (it's still unhemmed here) because I like my skirts to come just below the knee and cover my stocking), so, yeah, not helping, and it is too big pretty much everywhere. But still. I'm good with comfortable, don't get me wrong, but I look at this "dress" and I think, "How did I not see Davy Crockett sleeping bag coming here?" How did this idea, when imaginarily placed over big boobs and a wide can, seem like a good one?

I don't know. Because it all makes sense. At my size (not small) and in this print ( . . . ) and without any shaping whatsoever ( ! ! ! ) and having made dozens and dozens of dresses for myself over the years, how do I not see these things coming before I park my car in the parking lot of the fabric store? Before that, even? When I'm pulling my car away from my house? I am clearly delusional. Because this is not the first time. Oh no. Not even close. This is probably the eighth time. Grizzly Adams nightgown, or some version thereof, has happened many times before.

Maybe that's just sewing. It's kind of like throwing pots — you throw it, you glaze it, you fire it, you don't really know what you're going to pull out of that kiln. And that was precisely what I didn't like about throwing pots.

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What should I do?

A) Take it to Goodwill immediately. Forget it ever happened. Delete this post.

B) Do some sort of empire waist gathered thing under the bust? Or gather it on the sides? Shorten it and wear it as a shirt?

C) Go with it, and learn to hunt squirrel.

D) Other.

Please advise.

About Alicia Paulson

About

My name is Alicia Paulson
and I love to make things. I live with my husband and daughter in Portland, Oregon, and design sewing, embroidery, knitting, and crochet patterns. See more about me at aliciapaulson.com

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