Last year, my mother-in-law gave me several yards of linen fabric. One side had a rather ghastly print, but the other side was natural linen color. I made myself three pairs of pants from it, hand sewing in the style of Alabama Chanin. This goes much faster than one would expect, and is very portable.
Today, I used the leftover fabric, about half a yard, to make baby pants. I measured the baby's circumference and length at various points: waist, hip, thigh, knee, and ankle; and also the rise (waist to middle crotch). Then I drew up a quick pattern based on those measurements, starting at the waist and working down and out. I added extra for the waistband, the seams, and the hem at the ankle. Then I added some more for ease (room to move): one inch of circumference in the waist and up to two inches in the thigh and ankle, because the fabric has very little stretch. I made the front and back sides of the pattern identical; little children have little butts. I had enough fabric to cut out four pairs of baby pants. I also had elastic salvaged from old kids' clothes for the waistbands.
The pattern drafting and the cutting out are my favorite parts of the process; the rest is just work. I sewed them all up on the sewing machine. Finishing the hems and waistband are the slow parts of the process. I haven't tried the pants on the baby yet, but I suspect I should have made the rise larger.
This page has a nice primer on the basics of sewing pants. In particular, notice the pattern shapes for the front and back pieces of a pair of pants. I can take my own measurements, draw up the pattern shapes scaled to those measurements, and sew a pair of pants that fits better than anything than I will ever find in a store.
I remember, though, that Susie Bright wrote in one of the former CRAFT: magazine issues, that the best way to get a perfect-fitting pair of pants is to sew yourself a figure-flattering A-line skirt instead. Pants are very tricky, if you're trying for a perfect fit. But basic roomy pants are easy.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Monday, January 12, 2015
Boxes
I did a lot of little moving-preparation tasks this morning, and used up all of my ambition and energy. But I did play around with making boxes out of some large pieces of paperboard that I don't want to move.
The first idea I had was to coil a long strip into a circular box, and poke holes through it to secure it with yarn. But really I wanted a rectangular box, for more economical use of space.
A rectangular box is simple: four sides, a bottom, and maybe a top. I cut a long strip and folded it to form the four sides, plus some overlap. I stapled this in place. Then I cut another long strip, which became another layer of a side, then the bottom, the opposite side, the top, and a flap. I stapled this in place, too, and I was done. I am leaving it plain and undecorated.
The first idea I had was to coil a long strip into a circular box, and poke holes through it to secure it with yarn. But really I wanted a rectangular box, for more economical use of space.
A rectangular box is simple: four sides, a bottom, and maybe a top. I cut a long strip and folded it to form the four sides, plus some overlap. I stapled this in place. Then I cut another long strip, which became another layer of a side, then the bottom, the opposite side, the top, and a flap. I stapled this in place, too, and I was done. I am leaving it plain and undecorated.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Doing without a snowblower
We got about four inches of snow today. We have fifty feet of wide sidewalk, two sets of steps, about one hundred feet of narrow sidewalk, and a short two-car driveway. I shoveled all that in thirty minutes of light to moderate exercise, using only these two tools: a snow scoop (aka "Yooper scooper") and a grain shovel. The snow scoop is a wide metal box, open at the front and top, with a handle for pushing. It enables me to clear wide areas quickly by pushing the snow, rather than lifting it. I've seen both homemade and commercial versions. The grain shovel (which can be found at farm supply stores) is very handy for steps and for heavy wet snow.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Meaningful wall art
My word for the year gave me a direction for the two art projects I had in the pipeline.
For the painted-over canvas, I played with one of The Nester's techniques: dumping paint colors on the canvas, and then swirling them around. She uses craft paints in her chosen colors, but I prefer to buy only red, yellow, blue, and white paints, and mix my own colors from those. So I dumped and mixed and covered the canvas in long, diagonal strokes. Then I started playing with elliptical swirls, which led to a simple Lissajous figure that covered most, but not all, of the diagonals. No one need be impressed by my painting technique.
But for all that messing around, the painting turned out to be much more profound than I expected. It is abstract enough that you are not going to see much more in it than what you bring within yourself, but I do see something there that really speaks to me. Not bad for a free used canvas and a little paint.
For the small photograph and frame (which was originally taken and framed by professional photographers but cost less than fifty cents at a yard sale), I discovered that the back of the photograph that I didn't like was a shade of green that I do very much like. Related to my word for the year, I had lyrics to a song that I wrote a couple years ago, about longing for my real forever home in Heaven. So I wrote the title and the lyrics in marker on the back of the photograph, and framed it. I referred to 1001fonts.com for inspiration about how to write the title. I have been craving some good typography expressed in good colors.
For the painted-over canvas, I played with one of The Nester's techniques: dumping paint colors on the canvas, and then swirling them around. She uses craft paints in her chosen colors, but I prefer to buy only red, yellow, blue, and white paints, and mix my own colors from those. So I dumped and mixed and covered the canvas in long, diagonal strokes. Then I started playing with elliptical swirls, which led to a simple Lissajous figure that covered most, but not all, of the diagonals. No one need be impressed by my painting technique.
But for all that messing around, the painting turned out to be much more profound than I expected. It is abstract enough that you are not going to see much more in it than what you bring within yourself, but I do see something there that really speaks to me. Not bad for a free used canvas and a little paint.
For the small photograph and frame (which was originally taken and framed by professional photographers but cost less than fifty cents at a yard sale), I discovered that the back of the photograph that I didn't like was a shade of green that I do very much like. Related to my word for the year, I had lyrics to a song that I wrote a couple years ago, about longing for my real forever home in Heaven. So I wrote the title and the lyrics in marker on the back of the photograph, and framed it. I referred to 1001fonts.com for inspiration about how to write the title. I have been craving some good typography expressed in good colors.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Slow furniture
Last year I took our beaten-up couch completely apart, and used the wood from the frame along with free pallet wood and new foam and salvage store upholstery scraps to make a new-to-us couch. I used some of the old fabric to make a slipcover for the matching armchair. This year, the armchair reached the point of no repair, and I am now in the middle of disassembling and rebuilding it. It took several hours to get all the fabric and padding off, with the help of a small but enthusiastic staple-pulling boy. It will take a couple more hours to take the frame entirely apart, with a hammer and a flat bar for prying. I have an Arts and Crafts style armchair design in mind.
The couch and chair we bought seven years ago for $80 at the Salvation Army store, for the record. We had no way to get them both home, but providentially a guy in the parking lot with a pickup was willing to trade couch hauling for a jump start. God knows where all the resources are.
The couch and chair we bought seven years ago for $80 at the Salvation Army store, for the record. We had no way to get them both home, but providentially a guy in the parking lot with a pickup was willing to trade couch hauling for a jump start. God knows where all the resources are.
Monday, January 5, 2015
Nesting
I've been following The Nester's blog for a while, and her book The Nesting Place: It Doesn't Have to be Perfect to be Beautiful was on my Christmas list.
Well, I got it. And I have read through it once. Now I am going to have to go back and re-read it. There are some parts of it that I am going to have to take some quiet time to think about and cry my eyes out over, because she touched right on several sore spots in my soul. Renting in one place after another after another when you are really a homeowner at heart: been there, done that, still there. Discovering that you've been filling up the rental with stupid cheap junk just to cover up all the ugliness and blandness: that too. Despairing of being able to decorate at all when you are raising a succession of Destructo-Babies on a very tight budget: yes, definitely. Thinking that your home isn't presentable until it is perfect: who, me? I don't connect very well with her personal style, but her decorating philosophy is exactly what I have been trying to implement for a long time. I highly, highly recommend this book.
Then, I read about Brenda's Word for 2015 from God. I asked God for a Word of my own, and it came to me right away: HOME. Oh my, I am bawling again. I've lived in over a dozen different apartments and houses since college, and now we're getting ready to move again.
Well, I got it. And I have read through it once. Now I am going to have to go back and re-read it. There are some parts of it that I am going to have to take some quiet time to think about and cry my eyes out over, because she touched right on several sore spots in my soul. Renting in one place after another after another when you are really a homeowner at heart: been there, done that, still there. Discovering that you've been filling up the rental with stupid cheap junk just to cover up all the ugliness and blandness: that too. Despairing of being able to decorate at all when you are raising a succession of Destructo-Babies on a very tight budget: yes, definitely. Thinking that your home isn't presentable until it is perfect: who, me? I don't connect very well with her personal style, but her decorating philosophy is exactly what I have been trying to implement for a long time. I highly, highly recommend this book.
Then, I read about Brenda's Word for 2015 from God. I asked God for a Word of my own, and it came to me right away: HOME. Oh my, I am bawling again. I've lived in over a dozen different apartments and houses since college, and now we're getting ready to move again.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Let it go
Several months ago, I started making a paper-pieced hexagonal quilt. For fabric, I culled out some old baby clothes, so I could use the better parts for the quilt. I was planning to make a small lap quilt or a pillow cover.
I like the technique, because the paper templates make the piecing and the hand stitching come out very precisely, making my sewing look much better than it actually is. But I didn't like how this particular project was turning out. I wasn't enjoying the fabrics, or the thread (the only color that I have in any quantity in the moment is navy blue), or how they went together.
So I let it go. I officially declared it a UFO--unfinished object--and it went into the donate box.
I was going to get rid of all the unused fabric too, but then it occurred to me that I could use it for one of the kid quilts that I am planning. These will be more in the style of utility quilts, made of simple and somewhat large squares. So I made a template for a square from sandpaper (that's what Grandma used to do, it goes grit side down on the fabric) and started cutting out squares. Now I have about 100 squares, which is a good start.
How do you know when to let a stalled project go? I learned from Barbara Sher's book Refuse to Choose that it is okay to let a project go when you have gotten what you want from it. This is not always a completed project. In this case, I got the satisfaction of mastering a new technique.
In economics, there is the Sunk Cost Fallacy, which says that you should let an investment of resources go when it no longer makes sense to keep it, no matter how much you have already sunk into it. Admit the failure, and move on. With the quilt, I realized that I was not going to get the satisfaction of a finished project that I loved, no matter how long I worked on it. I cut my losses and went on to the next project.
I like the technique, because the paper templates make the piecing and the hand stitching come out very precisely, making my sewing look much better than it actually is. But I didn't like how this particular project was turning out. I wasn't enjoying the fabrics, or the thread (the only color that I have in any quantity in the moment is navy blue), or how they went together.
So I let it go. I officially declared it a UFO--unfinished object--and it went into the donate box.
I was going to get rid of all the unused fabric too, but then it occurred to me that I could use it for one of the kid quilts that I am planning. These will be more in the style of utility quilts, made of simple and somewhat large squares. So I made a template for a square from sandpaper (that's what Grandma used to do, it goes grit side down on the fabric) and started cutting out squares. Now I have about 100 squares, which is a good start.
How do you know when to let a stalled project go? I learned from Barbara Sher's book Refuse to Choose that it is okay to let a project go when you have gotten what you want from it. This is not always a completed project. In this case, I got the satisfaction of mastering a new technique.
In economics, there is the Sunk Cost Fallacy, which says that you should let an investment of resources go when it no longer makes sense to keep it, no matter how much you have already sunk into it. Admit the failure, and move on. With the quilt, I realized that I was not going to get the satisfaction of a finished project that I loved, no matter how long I worked on it. I cut my losses and went on to the next project.
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