Friday Five: Teach Your Child to Sew

My mom is from Europe, where sewing is popular, so she taught me to sew. And I taught my daughter because…it’s what mothers do. The upside is that when my daughter went to grad school, I inherited a sewing project she didn’t have time to finish. That was seven years ago. I just finished the project. Here are the top five reasons you should finish your inherited sewing project.

 1. Your child inherited her father’s artistic eye. And she has a sense of line and knows which patterns will look good.

 2. You remember why your daughter abandoned the project—there’s a mismatch between the sleeves and the sleeve lining. You ponder ripping out the sleeve lining and recutting it… But, honestly, you’re too tired. Besides, your great aunt who taught fancy handwork at a Swiss boarding school isn’t going to grade you. (She once gave my cross-stitch an A for the front side and a C for the backside. Grrr. It’s not like that rankled… 😉)

 3. Your child is precise. This means she’s clipped all the curves, pressed open the seams, and followed the pattern directions.

 4. Sadly, the pattern directions your daughter left behind are in Spanish and you don’t know Spanish. You know Latin and French, so you tell yourself you'll be able to figure it out… In the end, you wing it and hope for the best.

 5. Best reason to finish an inherited sewing project: Most of the work is already done! New lined, fleece jacket in the color of autumn. Woot!

DIY Cloche Hat

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may remember that I was diagnosed with a rare auto-immune disease (alopecia areata) over a year ago. As far as auto immunes go, the one I have isn't a bad one. My immune system attacks my hair follicles and my hair falls out. It’s not bad for body hair, but not so nice when it’s hair on your head, eyelashes, etc.

Almost two years ago, I began treatment, which ended up being a series of 40 to 50 shots in my scalp every six weeks. Not fun. (And, eventually, insurance decided they didn’t want to cover the shots.)

But the shots weren't very effective, so my doctor switched me to an oral medication and topical steroids. The combination seemed to work. (Either that or I went into remission.) Now, neither is the case. I’m losing a lot of hair again. Maybe it will come back. Maybe I'll lose more.

Since I believe in preparing for the worst, my husband suggested I sew a hat. He even offered to go with me to the store, so I could buy fabric. (FYI, Calvin feels that the fabric store is a circle of the Inferno that Dante forgot to include. So when he offered to go with me…love endures all things.)

Here is the result of the purchases. 

The pattern for this cloche hat (Rosabelle), courtesy of sewmamasew is by Wendy Talene of Elsewhen Millinery. I decided to sew a hat rather than buy one because 1. It’s cheaper. 2. I have a rather large head—and if a hat doesn’t fit right, I get migraines.

After completing the hat, I would highly recommend this pattern. The instructions were very clear (unusual in patterns and highly unusual in patterns outside of traditional pattern makers). Also, the fit was perfect because the pattern includes very specific directions on how to choose/cut a size.

(One small caveat, I didn’t realize that pieces B1 and B2 were supposed to be taped together before cutting. Thankfully, I had extra fabric.)

Also, the pattern gives very specific directions if you chose to sew a hat from difficult or non-traditional hat fabric—stretch materials, linen, etc. Perfect for those of us who like to sew outside-of-the-box.

One final note, this pattern comes with instructions on how to make the most beautiful roses to add to the hat. I’m in the process of doing that using dark red/black taffeta. (I’ll update when I’m finished.) But I made several hat bands (including this black velvet with embroidered rosette), so I can interchange them based on my mood, occasion, etc.

And, yes, I will be buying another pattern from Elsewhere Millinery. The Kimberly in crushed velvet is calling my name for the holidays. (Also, the pattern author does make custom hats, so if sewing isn’t your expertise, you can still wear a beautiful hat.)

Elsewhere Millinery patterns gets a five star review from me!

Velvet Purse for a Writing Break

The last two weeks, I've been taking a break from my newest novel. (Though not from writing as I had a writing deadline approaching and needed to get my work to the editor.) I finished the first major edit of the novel and wanted to recharge before Edit, Part 2.

So I'm doing some needlework and sewing. I posted photos of a hand towel I embroidered last week. And I finished sewing a purse.

I used this pattern several years ago to make my son Matthew a set of black faux snakeskin gauntlets. And at the time I was intrigued by the "man bag" in the lower left corner. I thought it might make a lovely purse.

Recently as I was sorting through my bins of remnant fabric, I came across some chocolate-colored velvet and remembered the pattern. Of course, as I read through the pattern, I didn't like some of the construction--I didn't want to have to untie and tie a bow every time I opened my purse and I didn't want to have a belt strap on the top of the purse. So I re-engineered the pattern.

The finished project is below. I ended up using elastic cording as a drawstring closure, threading it through tiny buttonholes.  I added a tassel because the weight of the tassel keeps the flap of the purse closed. Also, the rounded trim was not cut on the bias. I cut it with the grain to give more shape to the flap without having to use stiff interfacing, which would make the seams bulky.

Now I'm waiting for the weather to change so I can start using the purse--velvet doesn't make sense in 80 degree weather.

Shakespeare Costumes

Mid-July means one thing for me--sewing.

This year my son Matthew is playing Antipholus of Syracuse in Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors. It's one of Shakespeare's earliest plays and it's about two sets of twins separated at birth. It's full of word plays, physical comedy, and puns.

I picked a simple pattern this year McCalls 5907 because Matt is one of twins and so I didn't want someone to end up with a costume that was too hard. I did make some alterations to the pattern. I put in a slit between the middle seam in the front and back to make it easier to move. Matt tends to be very active on stage--I've seen him do a flip before and I didn't want anything restricting his movements (i.e., making him fall). The shirt is one I made a few years back. It's Butterick 4486. I keep hoping that Matt will outgrow it because I want it--it's made from the softest batiste fabric and I'd love it for an oversized poet's blouse.

Here's one of my favorite of Matt's lines:

I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself. 

Here's another quote from The Comedy of Errors.

They brought one Pinch, a hungry, lean-faced villain,
A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
A living-dead man.

Hmm. Looks like Shakespeare invented zombies.

Here are some links to other costumes I've made. Click here. And here. And here. And here. 

Friday News

Today is exciting for me. I’m being featured in the Author Spotlight on “The Word is My Oyster” blog, which is written by Lydia Kang. Besides being a writer, mom, and wife, she’s a doctor and writes the most fascinating posts. Medical Mondays are my favorites. If you’d like to read the Author Spotlight, click here.

One more exciting book announcement. My book is now available for Nook. So if you were waiting for the Nook version, click here.

I was hoping to post photos of Matt and Jake’s Shakespeare costumes today, but I’m searching high and low for ¾ inch silver D-rings. I need 16. I have 12. I’ve cleaned out the local fabric stores. And WalMart doesn’t have them. Neither does Hobby Lobby. And I can’t finish the gauntlets without them. I did find out that JoAnn’s was getting a delivery Thursday. Friday morning, I’ll be at the store, hoping for D-rings. If anyone else is there looking for D-rings, they’ll find out that I don’t run those 9 miles a week for no reason. Okay, I don’t run them so I can beat other women to important store items. (I actually hate shopping.) I run because it means I can be healthy, eat more of what I like, and read novels. I think I’m the only woman at the gym who runs a treadmill while wearing reading glasses. But, hey, I’m getting my exercise, which is good because Lindt chocolate and Salt and Vinegar potato chips are calling my name.

Shifting Gears

In the midst of figuring out how to do publicity for my new book (I’m open to suggestions), it’s time for me to sew Shakespeare costumes. Matt and Jake are both in the play Mid Summer Night’s Dream. Jake is playing Demetrius, and Matt is playing Puck.

Jake really liked his costume from last year (blouson shirt and tunic with faux embossed leather accents). So he said he’d wear it again this year. GREAT. Then, I volunteered to make him accessories. He wants gauntlets and a feathered hat. They will be very cool, but a lot of work. I’ve done a hat before—more broken sewing machine needles than ever for one project. And the gauntlets are studded with metal studs, meaning I probably will need to purchase a studding tool, if there is such a thing. Matt needs a tunic covered with leaves, which should be fairly easy, I hope.  When the costumes are done, I’ll post photos.

For those who are interested, things with my novel are going well at Kindle. The exciting thing this weekend was discovering that a total stranger loved my book and wanted to contact me. (Yay!) I’m still having trouble with Barnes & Noble—their promises to rid me of the imps have not materialized. So I will call them again, and, hopefully, get better promises. As soon as that's done, I'll get back to the Screwing Up Time sequel. I've left Mark and Miranda in a very precarious situation, and I need to rescue them. 

Free Linen Shift

Here's a link to a site where you can win a free linen women's shift or men's shirt. (So cool, Rowenna!) If you recognize the name, it's because she sometimes comments on my blog.

Anyway, click over and enter. Shifts make wonderful nightgowns--I know I've made one for myself and used it as a nightgown. But I've never made one out of linen, which sounds wonderful.

http://hyalineprosaic.blogspot.com/2010/07/great-linen-giveaway.html

Scroll down to read my regular Wednesday post. Thanks.

Soliloquies

All four of my children have major roles in this summer’s Shakespeare production of A Winter’s Tale. This is all well and good. However, two problems come to mind. First, costumes. Ariel now makes her own, which is cool because she needs two costumes. In one scene she’s pregnant so she has to bind a pillow around her tummy and a wear Medieval/Renaissance maternity wear. A gown is bad enough but maternity wear—yuck. Luke is wearing a costume I made for him a few years ago. Matt doesn’t get to wear the cool doublet, cape, shirt combination I sewed last year because this year he plays “The Clown.” So, I only have to whip up a ratty looking tunic. Jacob gets the uber-costume this year. He picked out the pattern for a belted doublet with a lined cape. Yep, it’s a lot of work. He got to bear a small amount of the burden when I made him cut out the pattern. But the bulk of it awaits me. I’ll be sewing for several weeks. Still I’ll listen to a book on tape, preferably an Elizabeth Peters’ novel detailing the lives of the Father of Curses, the Brother of Demons (who seems to be the exact representation of Luke, even down to the scowl), Nefret, and Amelia Peabody, who could best Indiana Jones with her umbrella/saber tied behind her back. Now you’re in on my secret—sewing isn’t a burden, though I’ll say it is once I get started.

No. The real burden is all the soliloquies that are going on all over the house. (Thankfully, Matthew doesn’t have a line this year that is equivalent to last year’s “You are an ass!” Yeah, he always “needed” to practice that one.) Instead, my assorted children meander around the house spouting Shakespeare. When one starts, the others begin. The practice session morphs into who-can-be-the-loudest-without-flubbing-their-lines, and I experience cacophony by Shakespeare. I can be heard above the din only if I shout and say, “I’m writing and your noise pierced my bubble.” (The kids call writing mode my “bubble” because they believe that I become so deeply involved in my imaginary world that nothing can penetrate. Writing is referred to as “Mom’s in her bubble.”)

But, now the kids have found a way to penetrate the bubble—Shakespeare. Hmm. If I complain, they’re going to say I brought it on myself. I’ll have to withdraw into my bubble and consider a comeback line.