Finished Project! Vogue 1212 Princess Seam Coat

I'm pretty happy I persevered with this plaid wool-blend version of Vogue 1212, a "Today's Fit" Sandra Betzina pattern

Even though there's some strange lumpiness where the lining meets the facing — right over my bust, unfortunately:

That's OK. I can just wear it open:

Or keep my back to the audience (the seam lines on the back are pretty darn cute, after all): 

The fabric was pretty unforgiving, and I'm giving the rest away to a lucky reader who I hope has an easier time working with it (you know who you are):

I love those seam lines. What I don't love is a coat that needs to be ironed twice daily in order to look sharp enough to wear out of the house. Let's just call this a wearable muslin. Oh, you wanted to see the collar up, did you?

I think it looks spacey with the collar raised. Not my favorite. (That's my diplomatic way of saying, "I hate it."

I still love this design even though this version of Vogue 1212 is not my new favorite made-by-me item. I'll likely wear it occasionally (I did actually sport it to a Broadway show last week; I took Peter from Male Pattern Boldness as my date to Grace. I had the opportunity to review it for this website I write for. 

So I'll just have to wait until I have more money in my budget for a nice wool that's a little more forgiving before I make this again (maybe next time in a nice black with a crazy lining — and with a hood instead of the collar? That's my (far-off) plan.

In Hurricane Sandy news, it's just starting to get blustery here in the Bronx, and we're all ready for a day at home — no school for my kid, and my husband's office has everyone working from home for the day. There may be some chocolate chip cookies in my future today. Or an apple pie.

Also, if you haven't entered my Hurricane Giveaway, please do. If not for you, for a friend. Give it as a holiday gift! (Say that YOU made it. I won't be around to tell them otherwise).

Work in Progress: Vogue 1212

You're a prudent bunch, dear readers. When I posted about hating the state of my current project — Vogue 1212, a coat pattern, nearly all of you advised me to set it aside and sew something else.

I guess I rebelled. Not because I decided this would be a knockout coat. Only because I went to the Garment District and decided I just couldn't splurge on jacket fabric right now. Everything I liked was so expensive. Plus I had my kid with me. It's too hard fabric shopping with a four-year-old.

So I bought grey zippers and a couple shoulder pads, and soldiered on (thinking if it turned out terribly, I would rip out the zips and use them elsewhere. No loss). If anything, I would learn a little something about coat construction.

I do love how the zippered pockets turned out:

And the bias binding looks cooler  now that it's all coming together. (The coat is still unlined, and the collar unfinished).

There's something vaguely Star Trekky about the back, I do believe:

But did you notice how my zipper needs to be reinstalled? I have never once sewn in a zipper without having to rip it out and try again (and sometimes, more than twice). I post this so you feel better about your sewing tribulations:

So there you have it. Necessity forced me to carry on with this coat. And I think I'll be happy that I did. I don't reckon I will ever sew with this type of fabric again. The weave was so lose. Everything gets off grain so easily. What a pain in the neck.

Unfortunately I already dropped the ball on keeping track of my time. I've worked on it a little bit each day this week, so let's estimate....40 hours. No, only kidding. I'd say I've invested about six hours and 20 minutes (the 20 minutes were spent staring at this squint-eyed, trying to figure out whether it was indeed going to look good when done).

I still have much to do: fix the zip so the front lines up properly. Sew the collar, sew the lining and sew it to the coat. Stare at it some more. Try it on with everything in my closet and ascertain whether I do like it....

I have a couple yards left of this fabric. If you think you can handle it, I will happily hand it over! Let me  know in the comments below. The first sucker (or more experienced sewer) who wants it can have it!

Know When to Run

Friends, how do you know when to forge ahead with a project despite the fact it's starting to look fug and you can foresee that salvaging it will only contribute to your gray hair count?

Or am I simply at the crossroads aptly described by funny Tweeter Kelly Oxford who now and then tweets the following "If you loved what you're writing & now you hate what you're writing, you're halfway through."

Because boy, do I ever hate this:

I'm at the "do I stay or do I go" stage. I don't want to commit any more time or supplies to something so stinky. I'm going down to the Garment District today. Maybe I should just start over — with a solid colour, and NO piping. This fabric, after all, is a NIGHTMARE to work with. I hate it more than words can say. I look at it too hard and it stretches, taking the plaid off-grain. Ugh. I even took the step of sewing twill tape along the edges:

But maybe, just maybe, once it's all together, I will once again see the potential in this? Or not. I hate to so easily abandon a project (because of what that says about my personality? That's one for the therapist), but I don't need one more thing in my closet that I never wear. It shames me when I'm sifting through and say to myself, "Ugh. I MADE that."

So how do you know when to hold 'em (and know when to fold 'em ... back up and deposit at the bottom of the scrap pile)?

Taking Your Time — And the Real Cost of Sewing

I suffer the same malady that I'm guessing some of you do: impatience, particularly when sewing something I'm excited about. It sets in about the time I can see how a project is going to turn out. So I can take cutting slowly, matching prints up at the side seams carefully. I prepare my machine properly, cleaning out lint and oiling it, as well as changing the needle to suit the fabric. But as soon as I sew a couple bodice pieces together and hold them up to my body, something comes over me — and I become an impulsive, shortcut-taking sewing hulk, pressing down harder on my sewing machine pedal: Me want to wear new dress. MUST. FINISH. NOW!

It's a powerful force that trips me up occasionally. It keeps me from reading instructions thoroughly. It makes me forget rows of topstitching. Ensures my gathers are not distributed equally.

In order to keep this impulse in check, I have to be very strict with myself. To illustrate, I'll share how I'm keeping myself from screwing up  Vogue 1212 — a "Today's Fit by Sandra Betzina" pattern, which I started working on this weekend.

I got this pattern last winter during one of Vogue's sales, for just $3.88 (score!). I love the classic princess seams and flared skirt paired with the sporty collar and three-piece sleeve. I see a lot of potential in this pattern (especially after making a muslin, which I will get to later). Here's the line drawing of Option B:

I'm using this white and silvery blue plaid wool blend, which I got from a former neighbor who was culling her stash during a move. I've had on hand it for a few years, but always thought it too "Chanel-suit-wearing-ladies-who-lunch" for me. If not for my friend Lizzi, who has said time and again how much she loves this fabric, I probably would have given it away. (She has cute style, so there must be something there I wasn't immediately seeing). Plus I have no budget for new fabric right now, so I'll give it a shot. I have five yards of it, so there's more than enough to ensure good plaid matching at the seam lines:

All that said, here are my rules for better sewing:

1. Don't sew something today that you need to wear tomorrow (unless it's something you have sewn several times before, or is a jersey miniskirt). Because that's when you end up setting a purple zipper into a black dress because you didn't plan ahead and purchase all your closures. 

2. Read all instructions BEFORE beginning to sew. This prevents me from forging ahead when I think I know what's next, and then backtracking later after I've flubbed up construction in some way. There is more than one way to set in a sleeve, and the pattern may tell you a different way to do it than what you are accustomed to FOR A REASON. (A reason that you will not learn until three steps later...at which point you will find yourself cursing, seam-ripper in hand).

3. If sewing something more complicated, set a daily limit on the number of steps you are to accomplish. It's like giving yourself a set number of chapters you can read before bed, lest you find yourself finishing the whole book at 3 a.m. Do I have a problem with impulse control? Only when it comes to wholesome things like reading and sewing. No judgement.

4. Make a muslin. This step forces me to do No. 1, 2 and 3, essentially. It requires planning ahead enough to allow time for a test garment, so I don't start sewing something hours before I want to wear it. It forces me to not only read the instructions and follow them, ensuring I won't make any stupid mistakes on the precious fabric I intend to use for the actual garment (I can make those dumb mistakes on the muslin). And it gives me a better sense of how to break down the steps, which allows for good pacing. PLUS, it's satisfying enough to try on a muslin that fits well that it tides me over until I can carefully work through all the steps on the actual garment.

Which brings me to my muslin for Vogue 1212:

I love the seaming on this. I plan on drafting a hood to go with this for a future collar-less version, and maybe even taking out some ease, dropping the neckline, sewing up the middle and adding a back zip for a dress version. I like the proportions and the way it hangs. I can totally see it as a dress:

Is that fabric familiar? It's from IKEA. My friend Lizzi gave it to me. Like, a million yards of it. I've used it for so many things now: a jumpsuit for my pattern making class more than a year ago

I thought it made me look like a clown, hence the juggling. I also made a version for my daughter. It was much cuter on her:

I also think it pays to be aware of the actual length of time it takes to sew something. I usually have no clue how long it took me to make something, because I'll work at it over a few sewing sessions, cutting the pattern out one night, and the fabric the next, sewing the bodice one day, and the skirt on another.

It all adds up though, and I think all that time is what gives our handmade things more value (and not rushing is clearly the key for me, at least, in making my me-made garments look less Becky Home-ecky. It also pays to know how long it takes to make something, so that when someone suggests you  make them a jacket, you can say, "Sure, it will only take me 15 hours!" (And cost $50 for the materials).

That in mind, I've resolved to keep better track of the true cost of sewing each garment, by keeping a running tally of the materials used and their purchase price, as well as the time contributed.

So far Vogue 1212 has cost me: $3.88 for the pattern (purchased on sale from Voguepatterns.com), and zip for the fabrics, which were donated to me by friends. (I will have to purchase lining fabric, three zippers and some interfacing, however, which I have yet to do. Wednesday is a professional development day for Lucy's pre-K, and I plan on dragging her downtown. Wish me luck).

I spent 40 minutes cutting the paper pattern, and an hour and 20 minutes sewing my muslin test garment (which is not lined, and does have closures, etc). So my running tally of time and money is $3.88 and two hours.

What about you people? What rules do you set for yourself when it comes to sewing?