Finished Project: Simplicity 1314 Times TWO

When my sewing students told me they wanted to learn to make a dress, I knew finding a pattern would be a challenge. After all, they're a diverse bunch of ladies, each with her own style. How can you possibly pick a dress pattern to please more than one person? 

So first, we settled on some musts we could agree on: sleeves, a simple neckline (no collars or button plackets), and a zipper closure. I also wanted to include a few key techniques: how to sew princess seams and attach a separate bodice and skirt (Sorry, no shift dresses!). It also needed to be a Fall/Winter style. 

I searched and searched...and then one day I got an email: Simplicity had released a new Cynthia Rowley pattern — 1314, a Fall-friendly dress with elbow-length sleeves. It can be made in a woven or slightly stretchy knit like ponte (forgiving for the new sewer or the easily bloated!), and you can mix fabrics for a contrasting center front panel. It's simple, has slimming princess seams, and is classic — though you can make it really modern. I even love the styling on the pattern envelope. Look at her, she's wearing sneakers with a dress. I love sneakers with dresses. Always have. I also love faux leather:

I tested out the pattern twice — and I love it. LOVE. IT. I think it is so, so flattering. I love the neckline, wide-at-the-elbow sleeve and the cut of the skirt. I made it in black ponte (from Chic in NYC's Garment District):  

And in cream ponte (Metro Textiles) with quilted center front and center back panels:

The fabric I used for the contrast panel really is a thing of beauty. It's a cotton blend quilted sweatshirt fabric I found at Paron's on sale a few weeks ago. I may just go back and buy the rest of the bolt. Here's the detail shot you've been waiting for:

Texture!

Of course, the great thing about a princess seam is the fact that you can achieve a great fit through the bust.

I had intended to cut the above black dress with a contrast faux leather center front panel just like the Cynthia Rowley sample, but it turned out the piece of faux I had in my stash was not enough. It worked out though — now I actually have a basic black dress in my wardrobe:

I didn't make many changes to the pattern. I graded out to a larger size at the hip and reduced the back neckline and armscye (which I usually do because I have the back of a 90-pound weakling and the hips of a mother of six). I also ended up taking out some ease at the side seam, though if I had sewn a woven, I probably would have left that in. I think for many women, this pattern would fit great straight out of the envelope. 

I also trimmed a couple inches off the length of the skirt because I am 5 foot 3 and wanted to maintain the right proportions. 

I chose pretty conservative fabrics for my two versions of Simplicity 1314, but I think there's so much room for working with color, texture, and even print with this pattern. 

What fabrics would you choose? And how would you style this dress?

Kindersewing: Connect-the-dots Sewing Sheets

In a previous post about getting started on sewing with kids I told you that sewing paper is a great first step toward true self-directed sewing. Eliminate the thread and you don't have to worry about tangles and jammed bobbin casings. But sewing straight lines on ruled paper won't keep kids interested for long. Connect-the-dots, meanwhile, totally will. 

Following the dots is good practice for pivoting around corners, sewing curves, and lifting (and putting back down!) the presser foot. By the end of sewing all three of my printable sheets, you kid will be well on his or her way to stitching safely and consciously. 

It's actually harder than you might think. You have to go slowly, but the result is fun: as the needle punches holes in the paper while you sew, the secret picture is revealed:

 My daughter is almost six, and she loves this activity. It buys me a solid half-hour at my own sewing machine. Win-win!

It was hard to get her to guide fabric under the presser foot when she first started sewing on a machine. But look how she uses both hands with the paper:

Look Ma, no thread!

This activity is great practice and really fun. If your rookie sewer tries one of my sheets, please post a pic on Instagram or Twitter and @ me (sewyorkcity). I'd love to see it!

Click here to download the printable file 

And here

And the last one

(Why can't blogger attach a link to a picture? It's enough to make a lady want to move to Wordpress!)

Happy sewing!

Weekend Sewing: What's on my table

What's on my sewing table this Friday? (In addition to a big mess):

Bathing suits!

It's pool (and sprinkler) season, after all. So I'm testing the waters of swimsuit sewing, which it turns out, is actually no harder than any other stretch sewing project. I'm using this free pattern from Prudent Baby, which I found on Pinterest:

But, as you can see, I made the pattern (a size 5) much bigger for my solidly built almost-six-year-old:

I slashed the pattern and spread it an inch at the waist and vertically too. I then used my French curve to redraft the leg hole, side seam and neckline. 

The tutorial at Prudent Baby is very easy to follow. I love the little ruffle:

Also: I love any chance to use a twin needle: 

The other thing I am really excited about is these matching swim caps I'm making to go with each suit:

My daughter takes swimming lessons now and pool rules stipulate a swim cap must be worn in the water at all times. It's hard to find small kid-size swim caps though, so the one she has (an adult size) slips off her head every time.

I drafted the pattern for the cap and used remnants of swimsuit fabric. She's going to look like a classic bathing beauty with her matching set.

So what's on your sewing table this weekend? Ever made a bathing suit? What's your fave swimsuit pattern?

Remnant-busting Salme Cami

Does anyone hate remnants as much as I do? Not big enough to make anything worthwhile but also not so small you can feel fine about tossing them in the trash — they take up space in your sewing room/tiny New York apartment, but you spent your hard-earned fabric funds on acquiring them in the first place....a sewer's conundrum.

Hopefully you have a few patterns that let you put your remnants to good use. My new fave is Salme's Double-Layer Cami, which I previously made from an upcycled dress in cotton voile. Because you know what? Though the pattern calls for you to make both layers from the same fabric, you totally don't have to. You could bust through two scraps to create a single, wearable top. And by adding a ponte band on the bottom you can turn it from cami into slightly sportier tank. Boom. Stash, busted:

Looking at the photos above, you might notice the neckline lays much flatter in my second, striped iteration of this tank pattern. I took out a little excess in the neckline by rotating it into the bust dart. My pattern modification worked perfectly:

I used up the annoying piece of fabric that remained after making Pattern Runway's Short Sleeve Kimono Dress. My one other small modification was the black ponte band at the hem. Not only does it add some visual interest (and length), it also saved me from hemming two layers of this poly (I serged the band onto the two layers even though for some strange reason my poor serger just hated it). Boom. Annoying task, averted.

I like this top, with its darts, neckline and spaghetti straps (though I am not in love with actually making spaghetti straps).

You know what else I am not wild about? Taking photos in my building's hallway when my neighbors are coming up the stairs:

That's the face I make when I want to alert my husband to the fact that this photo shoot is over. Like, Boom. Over.

So what's your favorite pattern for using up remnants? Do you make toddler tees until your scraps are in tatters? Headbands? Coffee cup holders?

Sewing Sins: Time For Confession

All of us commit them from time to time — and though we know it's wrong, we don't even really care. Because who is watching after all? You only have your own conscience to worry about when it comes to the sewing sins you commit in the privacy of your studio/nook/kitchen table.

Though I follow many of the sewing commandments (Though shalt not cut off-grain; Though shalt not use the wrong needle; Remember the seam allowance, to keep it holy), I also can confess to breaking a number of them.

1) I often cut out my paper patterns (even tissue!) rather than devote the time to tracing. Of course I regret it later when alterations need to be made, like this men's shirt here:

Major d'oh!

2) I have never sewn a button on the proper way. I use the zig-zag butonhole stitch on my sewing machine:

Haven't lost a button yet

3) I'm not religious about matching my thread to my fabric, such as this black twin-needle topstitch on the bottom of this gray and red skirt:

Meh, close enough

 4) I don't tuck in the tail of thread that remains after serging a seam. Of course, those tails often end up enclosed in another seam or hem, but when they don't, I just trim them and pray:

Care to confess your sewing sins? What are the commandments you always keep?

Me Made May — C'est Fini!

Ladies and gents, we have a tie.

The two me-made garments that got the most wear this May were (drumroll):

My Scout tee made from a men's button-up shirt (I wore it three times):

And my self-drafted silk bomber jacket, which I also wore on three occasions (you can't see it in the far right photo, but trust me, it's there):

The only reason I didn't wear that jacket more was weather-related. There were many days in May that were too hot, while others were too rainy (somebody told me once that silk gets spotty in the rain).

While I didn't find it a serious challenge to wear me-made all month, I did find it a wardrobe workout for the fact that I was showing the world what self-sewn garments I was wearing. Normally, I would wear the same self-drafted hoodie five days a week, which would technically qualify me for a successful Me Made May. But, knowing that the world (OK, 150 Instagram followers) was watching made me want to dig a little deeper into my drawers for those me-mades that don't get as much wear.

I made a number of new items in May to help flesh out my me-made wardrobe:

Pictured above are: two pairs of Hudson Pants, a pair of self-drafted leggings, two Double-layer Camis by Salme Patterns, a Scout tee and a Dixie DIY Summer Concert Tee. Though that's a lot of items for one month, as you can see all of them are casual and none of them is complicated. I think that's a result of both wanting to add some easy-to-wear items to my me-made wardrobe and that fact that I felt like garbage for much of May, thanks to allergies. So I wasn't feeling very ambitious (and I couldn't take much disappointment beyond the daily wear of itchy, sticky eyes and constant congestion).

Much of my handmade wardrobe is self-drafted, but the commercial and indie patterns I wore in May include: the Minoru Jacket, the Scout tee, the Tiny Pocket Tank, the Short-Sleeved Kimono Dress, McCall's 6404 leggings, McCall's 3341 A-line skirt, Salme Patterns' Double-Layer Camisole, True Bias' yet-to-be-released Hudson Pants, and Dixie DIY's Summer Concert Tee.

The really interesting thing about documenting this all on Instagram was seeing which way I parted my hair throughout the month (evenly split; My haircut is ambidextrous).

My June sewing plans involve some swimsuit experimentation (for my daughter) and a dress (for me).

What about you? Swearing off selfies forever now after Me Made May? Happily wearing your ready-to-wear? What are the gaps you want to fill in your handmade wardrobe?

Sewing: So Easy a 5-year-old Could Do It (Fetch me a 5-year-old?)

So many people I meet think they are incapable of sewing — that there's some secret trick to it that would take them forever to learn. But it's just like any skill that you master bit by bit as you go.

Take cooking, for example: you probably started out making something simple like scrambled eggs. In time, your scrambled eggs got better and better. So then you tried an omelette. And after a few of those, you may even make a souffle (or a cake because who even eats souffle? Gross).

And when you teach kids to cook, you're not going to start out by handing them Julia Child's recipe for Coq au Vin. First, you let them whisk while you hold the bowl (always hold the bowl, unless you're a total masochist — or you have a maid, and then by all means let your maniac child beat some batter solo). When they've got that down, you let them crack an egg. And as they prove they can be trusted, you might even let them stir at the stove.

It's the same with sewing: your kid will be plenty challenged by taking over just a few of the easiest steps. And in time, if they enjoy it, they work their way up to the point where you don't have to hover over their shoulder to make sure that they remember to put the presser foot down.

• Safety — Many people wonder about the safety of letting a child sew. After all, the needle is sharp and little fingers aren't always so careful. But if there's one thing that kids truly HATE (next to daily sunscreen applications and food touching other food, especially green food) it's needles. Kids will talk to you ALL DAY LONG about how much they hate needles. And they are pretty good at keeping away from the things they hate, including green food, socks with seams (yes, I'm aware that all socks have seams), and needles.

That said, there are some kids who would gladly sew their fingers together just to mess with you — and those kids shouldn't be trusted with a sharp pencil, let alone a sewing machine. You know your kid best. If your child sits still for an art, craft or building project, then they might have the maturity for sewing. This is NOT coded language for "boys don't/can't/won't sew." To the contrary, I think many boys would be interested in sewing if given the chance; after all, they get to put their foot on a pedal, which is kind of like driving a car, and they get to construct, an activity that for some reason is considered a male domain — except when it's done with fabric. (Whatever you do, don't try to teach a four-year-old to sew. Four-year-olds think they know everything. Wait at least until your child has been humbled by the rigors of Kindergarten.)

• Skip the technical stuff for now — When I teach adults to sew, winding a bobbin and threading the machine are the first skills I want them to master. If they have any hope of sewing independently, these are the two most important skills they can take away from a beginner class. But kids just want to get down to business — and they might get bored if too much time is spent on setting up. (Teens and confident tweens, however, are capable of quickly mastering the skills of bobbin-winding and machine-threading. I have one student who claims bobbin-winding is her "favorite." Some of my adult students, meanwhile, really sweat it every time they have to change their bobbin).  

• Introduce one element at a time: When you were a kid did your dad or grandpa ever let you steer the car? While a perfectly responsible adult may let a child take a turn at the steering wheel, you would have to be the town idiot to also let them operate the gas and the brake too. A sewing machine is likewise a pretty complex piece of machinery. But you can let a kid start out slowly by doing just one task at a time; she can "steer" while you drive (press on the foot pedal), or operate the pedal while you steer.

Following a chalk line is easier for kids

Or, if that's too much, invite your child to put down the presser foot and turn the handwheel to drop the needle before you begin sewing. That's pretty much the "whisk the eggs" equivalent. You might be surprised by how happy a kid will be doing these two small tasks.

• Go threadless — Eliminate another element by removing the thread from the machine and giving your child a piece of paper instead. He or she can practice stepping on the foot pedal and feeding the paper under the presser foot without you having to worry about tangled thread, wasted fabric, or a jammed-up machine. They will be delighted to see all the little holes the needle makes in the paper (if you're worried about dulling a needle, save an old one for times like this). A simple connect-the-dots sheet is good practice for kids learning how to manoeuvre fabric on a curve or around a corner.

• Lower your expectations (and theirs) — This is not your sweatshop and they don't work for you. Depending on your child's age, you might only have a half-hour before they lose interest and move on to something else. So choose a quick project they can complete easily to build confidence and interest. A doll pillow or blanket, simple bag, or gathered skirt with an elastic waistband, are all great first projects for young sewers.


• Share the load — If your child is hellbent on sewing something more complicated, think about what tasks they can handle and which ones you should do (for safety reasons and also to avoid too much frustration at the outset). Cutting out the paper pattern and straightstitching the side seams of a dress may be enough involvement for a younger child. Or perhaps your kid will like marking the fabric with a chalk pencil and snipping stray threads with little clippers after you sew every seam. (Again, you might be surprised by what sewing-related tasks your kid will happily handle. Take prewashing fabric, for example. My kid will spend a happy half-hour handwashing fabric in the bathroom sink. It's like a trip to the water park without having to apply sunscreen. I win.)

• Make it easy — Take a few extra steps to simplify each task, and your child is less likely to give up in frustration. Use a ruler and chalk to draw seam lines for him to follow (rather than use the throat plate guide). Or trace the outer line on a paper pattern in a felt pen or highlighter so your kid avoids cutting through the wrong part of the pattern.

If teaching your kid to sew sounds like work for you, that's because it is. But just as a kid who helped prepare dinner is more likely to actually eat it, so too will a child who helped sew wear a new dress you made (rather than leave it to gather dustbunnies on the floor of her closet. Cough, cough, ingrate, cough, cough, been there). In time, you will have to help less and less and your kid will have learned a valuable skill.

That's right, she made this.

Any other tips you can add on getting kids started with machine-sewing? Share them in the comments!

How to: Make Your Own Brag Tags — With Free Printable AND GIVEAWAY!

Whether you go by Grandma, Nana, or even Mom, chances are your local craft store has ready-made tags you can use to guilt-trip the people for whom you sew:

But what if you're not a Mom or a Nana — and what if you didn't sew that costume out of love? (Duty calls sometimes, after all, and you deserve credit for every stitch you make while cursing your children/friend/self's last-minute whims).

Sewn-in labels are a way to give credit to yourself for a job well-done. You could have bought a new pair of shorts at Old Navy. But instead you spent a whole weekend wrestling a pattern into submission (and missed out on the sunny weather? Possibly. But this is your hobby, so roll with it):

Pattern Review: Salme Patterns' Double-layer Camisole

Don't you hate how your favorite TV characters never repeat their outfits? (I'm not talking about the Sex and the City ladies; the most unrealistic thing on that show was the fact that New Yorkers would walk four abreast down a busy sidewalk. Everyone knows only tourists and middleschoolers do that).

Displaying my daily me-made wardrobe this May has me actually caring about week-over-week repeats. I could just wear what I had on yesterday (oh look! It's still here on the floor where I left it!) but I won't because it seems gauche to re-gram the same selfie. Looking at my grid of pics on Instagram is a good push to dig through the far reaches of my closet for those items I've sewn and then never worn.

Simplicity 1872 is one such project. Sewn at the behest of Kollabora.com when it first launched, I was never really thrilled with this dress. The flare on the skirt was unevenly distributed, creating too much fullness right at the sides (I have drafted many skirts so I could tell by how it hung that the flare wasn't evenly distributed). I have enough fullness on my hips, thankyouverymuch. I do like the bodice but that sleeve gathered with elastic is just two precious for me:

So in an effort to avoid wearing yet another Scout Tee or Tiny Pocket Tank, I turned this dress into two tops this week. Numero Uno, an easy peplum top, which retained the bodice and an underneath piece that had been attached to one layer of the skirt:

And Salme Patterns' Double-layer Camisole:

This is the first Salme Pattern that I have worked with though I've been lurking her shop for some time. I completely adore how it turned out and was high-fiving myself for the fact that I was able to squeeze this tank out of the remaining yardage from my pillaged skirt. Her guidelines suggest you only need 5/8 yard for this top, and she's right. I used even less, I think, because I raised the waistline by two inches (I had no choice due to fabric limitations — and also, I am quite short-waisted). 

This top comes together so easily: you sew the outer layer to the inner layer with the straps sandwiched between, which finishes the neckline all around. The little spaghetti straps are easy to make (though in this lightweight voile they feel pretty skimpy, which worries me that they will not last). The darts are nicely placed. The only change I think I would make is to pinch out some excess along the front neckline. It gapes a little, but that excess can be rotated into the dart the same way that I did it with Burda's Cap Sleeve Dress (another dress I never wear but that's another story!) 

 

One thing about Salme Patterns: you have to add your own seam allowances, which I am fine with. In fact, I think it's a good idea; depending on how you plan on finishing your seams, you may want a different size seam allowance. (Also, it makes it easier to edit a pattern when you are not also mucking around in seam allowances.)

But for a beginning sewer, I think that would be a deal-breaker. I can just imagine the blank stares I'd get if I told my sewing students that they had to add seam allowances.....(crickets).

So there it is: one unworn dress transformed into two wearable tops — and two more days of no-repeat Me Made May! How have you turned a dud DIY into something you can actually wear? And can you think of a TV character (other than Wonder Woman) who wore the same thing more than once?

How to: Sew a Scout Tee from a Men's Shirt

What better time to take on a reconstruction project than in the Spring, when nature is overtaking the stinking heaps of winter trash and last Fall's unraked leaves to create new life ... much like (segway!) we can stitch another season into tired castoffs from the men in our lives, like this Scout Tee I made from one of my husband's old button-ups:

Kindersewing: Tapping Into Childlike Confidence for Better Sewing

Teaching tweens how to sew is awesome for one fact: they don't sweat it if they make a mistake. While most of the women in my adult classes (at Bread & Yoga in Upper Manhattan) stress about aligning seams just so and edgestitching evenly, the kids just forge ahead without any worry. And when they do make a mistake, they pick it out and do it again. They aren't hard on themselves in the way that grown women are. They may not be the strongest sewers, but they are better than we are at making mistakes.

Cutting skirts in sewing class

As adults, we have a couple things that we do well. For most of us, there's one thing we're trained or schooled in, and we do that daily for work. We may also have a hobby or sport that we play, and we've probably been doing it for some time — maybe even since we were tweens. So the opportunity to make mistakes doesn't come up all that often for many adults. We are out of practice at flubbing things up. We take it personally. We use the word "fail" as a noun.

And that's the biggest challenge I find in teaching adults — reminding them it's OK to make a mistake. Nobody will die if you sew the right side of your bodice to the wrong side of your skirt. There's more fabric. There's always more fabric. You need to break a few eggs to make an omelette.

But the kids. They are awesome at failing. They do it with such grace. They don't berate themselves or question whether they could ever be good at this. (And I don't need to tell them that I also make mistakes — though they do like to hear that).

Peter of Male Pattern Boldness recently ruminated on what it means to be a fashion designer — and whether those of us who sew for fun would ever use that term to describe ourselves (many home sewers are actually much more involved in the process of creating something original than many modern-day designers). Reading the comments on his post, it's clear that even those among us who have the skills and creativity to create whole outfits from scratch are wary of labeling ourselves "fashion designer." We reserve the term for those who have professional accreditation, their own section at Macy's and are know by a single surname.

A kid, meanwhile, has no qualms with staking their claim to a title. Paint a picture at preschool and you're an artist. Help dad with dinner, and you're a chef. Learn "uno, dos, tres" and you're telling your building's Super that you speak fluent Spanish. Ask my daughter whether she's a fashion designer and she would say yes:

She'll be six in the summer and already she's sewing on a machine. And, because she has kid-confidence, she's also designing. But she's not a prodigy or anything — and I'm not bragging. Rather, I'm showing you this to make it clear: designing is not all that hard. Even a kid can do it.

You draw a picture. You choose some fabric. You commission a patternmaker to draft a pattern for you (What? You don't have access to a patternmaker? So you use a commercial pattern that matches the design you had in mind. If you think about it, it's the same thing!). You sew it. You wear it — and you tell everyone you see that you made it. (Seriously, every person in our corner of the Bronx will know by Friday that my kid can sew. Talk about self-promotion. I could learn a thing or two from this kid.)

When we teach our kids (or someone else's children) how to do something new, we praise effort and tenacity just as much as achievement. In the face of frustration, we remind them gently that they are learning — and that every mistake is just part of the process.

So too should we be kind to ourselves: how would you talk to a child about the mistake he or she just made? Be at least as nice to yourself and you will enjoy sewing so much more. And give yourself the same credit you would extend to a child — if sewing were easy, everybody would do it and H&M wouldn't exist. It's not brain surgery, but it does take practice. So please, be proud of your sewing accomplishments — and call yourself whatever you want to!