What I'm Learning From Me-Made-May

Participating in Me Made May 2014 has been motivating (I've made several new garments already this month). But at times it's also miserable. I just don't know what face to make in a selfie; before I have even taken the photo I know what a dud it is going to be!

But most importantly, it has been instructive. Not even halfway through the month and I've already learned a few things about how I dress — and how I sew for myself:

1. I would wear the same thing three times a week if I wasn't being watched by you people.

2. I also would make my bed about that often if I wasn't so worried about your judgment.

3. I don't wear dresses nearly as often as all y'all. Of course, I don't work in an office or some other environment that demands I look decent on a daily basis, so I opt for pants or leggings, and sometimes skirts (when the weather is warm). Looking back over a dozen days of Me Made May, I can see that I wear a lot of me-made tops (9 days out of 12), but also pants (4 days). I don't wear me-made skirts so often (2 days), and dresses least of all: (only one day). Summer is coming though.... (Make your dress recommendations in the comment section!)

The lone dress I've worn in 12 days of Me Made May

4. Instagram has a funny crop, so when you take a mirror-selfie, you have to choose: cut off your feet or the top of your head. I prefer to cut off my head. My feet are covered in shoes, and shoes make an outfit, so the feet get to stay:

I love my Chucks too much to crop them out

5. Day to day, I rely too heavily on two of Grainline's simplest patterns: the Scout tee and the Tiny Pocket Tank. I wore one or the other six days out of 12! It's not that I don't have more complicated tops (or something by another pattermaker!), it's just that in this transitional weather, it's easy to layer with either of those simple designs. But noting this fact has me inspired to do some designing and patterning so that I rely less heavily on my Scouts and Tiny Pocket Tanks. In my defense, I haven't been feeling well thanks to allergies, but I do look pretty boring:

6. That said, on just as many days, I wore something I drafted myself, which makes me feel a little bit better about the state of my style; I may dress a little boring, but at least I can work a French curve.

What have you learned during Me Made May? (Either as a participant or a lurker).

All the Leggings Fit For Print

All of New York: it's possible you can thank ME for this gloriously hot (and unfortunately pollen-encrusted) weather we are having. Because just before it hit, I sewed up the raddest pair of printed leggings in some spandex-with-poly-blend that probably won't be practical again until late-October. That is how life works: you sew something you love, and then the weather changes so you cannot wear it. Somebody hand me some linen.

Seriously. I just single-handedly installed an AC in our bedroom AND I DIDN'T EVEN KILL ANYONE. I could have, you know. But I was willing to take that risk because it is heat-wave-in-May hot here today and my seasonal allergies mean I can't crack a window (I wiped down my windowsills yesterday and they were all greenish-yellow. What a fool I have been. Also, we went to the Botanical Garden for Mother's Day, an unfortunate decision I regretted all last night in bed, where I lay with a cool cloth on my eyes like some Victorian invalid).

Anyway, leggings:

I bought this printed stretch fabric at Metro Textile, intending it for my stretch sewing class at Bread & Yoga. Nobody snapped it up for their kiddie leggings (our first project) so I swapped it out for some other...perhaps less offensively bright and patterned prints. Last laugh? I'll have you right here:

I made the pattern for these leggings by cutting open a raggedy old pair of Steven Madden leggings and using them as a guide. It's a one-piece pattern, with just an inseam. I like not having a seam along the side to interrupt that print. That print, after all, is the one that will do all the interrupting.

It is the kind of print that you have to plan for carefully, lest you end up with two red whatever-those-ares on your tush. These leggings could have gone baboon-butt so quickly.... And because I am a generous mom, I plan on making a pair for my kid because she asked so nicely — AND was the one who sweetly brought me that cool cloth I mentioned earlier. How sweet it is when our kids grow up enough to take care of us from time to time.

Are you in the thick of summer sewing yet (for those of you in the Northern Hemisphere)? Just tell me to make a Gabriola skirt already...

Quiz: Which Hemline Are You?!!

OK, that was a tease. I didn't actually craft a Buzzfeed-style online test to see whether your personality is a mini or a maxi. (I hate those quizzes; all they do is reinforce stereotypes and tell your Facebook friends how much of a slacker you are at work!)

But I am thinking this week about hemlimes — and how to build outfits around them (and why do I only usually wear one length?).

Do you have a favorite hemline? I like my skirts to hit at the knee or just slightly above it. To my eye, this is the most flattering length on me, and can be worn with flats or heels. Too short, and I feel self-conscious (after having a kid I have a lot of broken capillaries on my legs; I don't lose any sleep over that fact because, hey, I created a human being and that's awesome! — but the world still doesn't need to see them). Too long, and I think I look short (I'm 5'3") .... or Orthodox (I live in a pretty conservative Jewish neighborhood in New York City. My cultural touchstones have changed in recent years; when I lived in Winnipeg, I would have said I looked Mennonite).

Church-ready?

My sewing students asked me to add a skirt class to my Spring/Summer schedule so I've been testing out a pattern I thought would be a great first skirt project for new sewers. It's McCall's 3341, and is about as classic as it gets: slight A-line with darts at the waist in the front and back, a 7-inch center back zip, and a facing to finish the waistband. The pattern features five hemline variations, from mini to maxi, which was a huge selling point with me; I didn't want to deter any students from taking the class because their fave hemline is different than mine. A tall lady (or someone with a more modest style) would look great in the hemline above. (You can see some pulling at the hip level in this version. I slashed and spread the pattern following this first attempt to add a little ease through the hip).

I cut version D in a printed fabric. This skirt I will actually wear.

I cut the miniskirt, version E, in black. Even for a photo shoot I had to wear stockings. I call this hemline Zooey Deschanel in the Opening Credits of New Girl Short:

I like the mini with tights or leggings. My legs look longer. I look younger and fun....but bare-legged? How would I sit down the subway? My thighs would touch surfaces that no part of my body should come in contact with. I live in New York City, where you can bet everything has been puked or peed on (or worse) at some point...

Considering all that, this conservative length is looking better and better. If anything, it will encourage me to wear heels every now and then. 

How do you choose a hemline? And how do you make it work within an outfit?

Finished Projects: From a Frumpy Fail to a Fine Dress Indeed

Last night at Workroom Social's Sewing Swap & Party in New York's East Village, the talented Gingermakes kindly told me she enjoys my tales of parental failure — that it's entertaining (and refreshing?) to get the real dirt on raising a daughter (and sewing for her occasionally) — not the edited-for-maximum-Pinterest-appeal version.

I can relate. As much as I find Pinterest to be a useful tool for bookmarking, it also makes me yearn for a time when the word "tablescape" was not widely used. It makes most of us feel terrible for the fact that our mantles aren't currently decorated with Mason jars stuffed with seasonal flowers, that the light fixture over our dining table is the same one the super installed before we moved in (and not, in fact, made from reclaimed Mason jars), and that our salads are served on boring old plates rather than (you know where this is going) in Mason jars. 

So in the interest of my earnestness cred, I'm sharing with you two finished versions of the same dress pattern: Pattern Runway's Easy Short Sleeved Kimono Dress. But, as you can see, one is what the kids today call an epic fail:

My husband suggested I stand like that, with my hands clasped together, because apparently every other pose was so unflattering....I looked in the mirror. It wasn't the poses that were unflattering; it was the dress.

I am not amused

Two sizes too big (I cut a medium based on what the pattern's measurements suggested) and sewn in the wrong fabric, I look like a full bag of laundry. The pattern suggested shirting as one fabric option, but the stiffness widens me. I mourn the loss of this fabric. It was so nice and clearly should have been used in some other, more appropriate way. The armhole is halfway to my waist. Blergh.

I went back to the Pattern Runway website. I still like their version of the dress. So I sized down to a XS on top and graded out to a medium on the bottom (I also added flare to the skirt because their straight-up-and-down skirt did not fit over my hips nicely at all). I found the perfect fabric at Metro Textile — a striped poly that actually feels like a heavy silk: 

Happy now?

So much better. The armhole is a decent size. The shoulders don't stand at attention like a row of tinted Mason jars just ready to be filled up with your love and homemade yogurt:

And this fabric, I think, actually looks like it wanted to be this dress. 

(Did I manage to fool your eye with my stripe placement? Do I look taller than 5'3"? I made my husband stand on the bed for these photos. No rest for the husbands & boyfriends of sewing bloggers).

The covered button (and my stripe-matching) are pretty great: 

What about you — Have you ever given a pattern a second chance after a first fail? Does Pinterest make you want to smash all the Mason Jars?

We go together like... Simplicity 1887 and Salme's Loose-fitting Pleated T-shirt!

Perhaps it's Me Made May that has me thinking about sewing patterns that go together. After all, as a participant (watch my Instagram feed for daily posts), I'll be wearing handmade every day for the next 31. And as a wannabe overachiever, I want to wear more than one thing whenever possible. But how many outfits can I put together with more than one handmade item from my closet? So far, not many, which is why I'm considering these combos for my May sewing plans:

The Gabriola Skirt by Sewaholic...

...with the new Nettie bodysuit by Closet Case Files (medium back and short sleeves, please):

(Seriously, what could possibly go together better than those two patterns? You would be feminine and sexy and comfortable...)

I also like Simplicity 1887, the pant version with elasticized cuffs...

...with Salme Patterns' Loose Fitting Pleated T (cropping it would be cute, non?):

I've been working on a new pattern of my own this week. It's a short-sleeved sweatshirt with perforated pleather raglan sleeves and "Sew York City" stenciled on the front (I'll be making some changes around here in the coming months, with my blog name being one of them). 

And I think it would look great with True Bias' yet-to-be-released Hudson Pant pattern (no link to buy yet; Kelli has so far only previewed her pants on Instagram):

How cute would they be together? Cool urban mom at the playground kicking balls like a boss? (Ahem, cool urban mom who sews, at the playground kicking balls like a boss!)

What are your favorite pattern combos, indie or otherwise?