One more Laurel

I actually started writing this post yesterday, but didn't get a chance to finish it and overnight I've discovered that one of my Laurels (below) that I entered into the Colette Patterns Laurel contest has won second prize in the 'Added Detail or Embellishment' category! I'm so flattered to see my top alongside such amazing dressmaking talent - do go and check out the other winners. If you quilt you'll especially love the dress which won first place in this category as it combines precision piecing with dressmaking.

So, topically, this post is about one last Laurel (no, I don't actually believe that either, but I feel the need to at least attempt to offer up the illusion of there being some diversity to my dressmaking). I actually made it a few weeks ago, but I've been crazily busy and I haven't had time to blog about it until now. This one is interlined, as the cotton was very sheer.

For those questioning the difference between lining and interlining: if you line something, essentially you create an identical garment and then sew the two garments so that seam allowances are sandwiched, unseen, in the middle of the two. If you interline something, at the outset you simply sew two pieces of fabric together and then treat them as one - this way doesn't hide any of the seam allowances, but that wasn't necessary here as I was using french seams.

I used an incredibly fine voile for the interlining that had the exact weight and drape of the large spotted dobby fabric (is it dobby when the tufted spots are this large?). Out of the three Laurels I've made, I attached one collar with a bias binding finish, another as a traditionally-installed Peter Pan collar covering the join with a strip of bias inside the blouse, and for this final Laurel, I went off piste entirely.

I didn't sew the interlining fabric to the outer fabric at the outset as you normally would, but instead sewed the interlining back and front pieces together at the shoulder seams and then did the same for the outer fabric. I was then able to temporarily treat the interlining fabric as a facing, and sew the Peter Pan collar inside this sandwich to give the simplest of installations from all the collar insertion techniques I've experimented with. I then sewed the interlining fabrics to the outer fabrics in the conventional way and from that point on treated the fabrics as one.

I left the sleeves unlined as I quite like being able to see the fabric as it really is here.

It's actually my least favourite of the three Laurels I've made, as no matter how fine the fabrics are, two layers of fabric won't replicate the flowing drape of silk. Silk tends to fall over your curves, and has a slight static that makes it follow the exact line of your figure, but without being clingy. An interlined cotton, no matter how light both the fabrics are, tends to fall over your curves, but then stands proud from the body. Everyone tends to have an issue that they are mindful of when dressmaking and mine is a big-bottom-in-relation-to-the-rest-of-me, which is exacerbated by having a very, very short body (because how much back can you realistically squeeze into 5ft1" without losing room for legs, neck and a head?). If the drape isn't just right it can make things look even more out of proportion; if the fabric doesn't fall back in at the the waist and stands proud of my body from bust to bottom (yes, I know they're on different sides of my body & that's what makes for a double-width tube!) it can make me look slightly shapeless. The photo you see below is the 'flattering photo'. I'm having to delete the 'unflattering truth' photo from my memory or I may not be able to actually wear this top. It's an interesting experiment to make so many versions of the same top and to observe how it can morph from flattering to unflattering purely because of the drape of the fabric. I like how it looks from the front though, so it may get some heavy with-cardigan usage.

Hence why I think I may make another Laurel as I'd still really like a practical cotton version, but perhaps in a cotton that isn't so sheer that it requires interlining, which would hopefully make the drape less of an issue.

I usually make my own bias binding in self fabric or a contrasting fabric, but for this top I used pre-made bias. I actually love working with the pre-made version - the bias strip is so heavily starched that it's easy to manipulate and the pre-formed creases are satisfyingly crisp. It seems to knock so many minutes off construction time!

The inspiration for this top and the fabric use actually comes from something I pinned on Pinterest over a year ago. My version seems rather demure next to the original foxy inspiration top, but I'm not sure I would wear something quite that see-through....or with such puffy sleeves. Interestingly, it's only since making up my book of croquis that I've been able to see why, despite my absolute love of puffed sleeves (who couldn't watch Anne of Green Gables as a child and not develop a life-long love of them?), they will never suit me. If you look at the photo above, you can see it's really only the top on the left that actually flatters my frame. The rest give a very curious effect indeed.

If you'd like more Laurel inspiration, you can find plenty in the Colette Patterns Flickr pool. My prize for coming second was £50 worth of Colette Patterns! I'm more than a little excited by that proposition - my quick trawl of the Flickr pool has made me think that a Hazel and a Peony dress pattern seem to give a good fit and look consistently lovely in the photos in the pool - do you have any recommendations of your own? I'm also pondering the Sencha blouse, but I'm not sure if there's too much going on around the waist that may overwhelm my petite frame. I don't actually dislike being small at all, but I do look at my super-tall mannequin and think that it must be so much easier to carry off any piece of clothing if you have more height. Although I'm sure that comes with challenges that wouldn't even have crossed my mind.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned the freakish thing that happened when I was pregnant for the first time - I grew! When I returned to wearing some of my old clothing, once my daughter was here, I realised that most of my clothes seemed a little shorter. At first I thought this might be because I was a tiny bit bigger and so perhaps I was wearing them in a different way, but eventually I got my husband to measure me and we were both alarmed to find that I'd gained a whole inch in height! That pregnancy had been hideously uncomfortable and it seems it stretched my vertebrae out somehow - who knew that could happen? And just in case you're wondering, my second pregnancy passed without any height adjustments, despite my husband anticipating that if we were to carry on having children I would eventually tower over his 6ft2" frame.

Florence x

Homemaker Magazine

It seems like most of the people I know in England have been struck down with a cold. Very possibly because we've been kept in the fridge for too long with the absence of any summer weather. This is my current handkerchief, for indoor use only because it is absolutely enormous and could easily be restyled into a voluminous smock top or possibly even cover my entire head and face if a sudden gust of wind came along. I think I probably knew that it was an impractical size when I bought it, but I was completely taken in by the print (yes, it's Liberty). It is almost impossible to blow your nose in a dignified way with something that resembles a small table cloth though, so it may have been an error. I have many more thoughts on handkerchiefs, but they'll have to wait until next week, because that's the kind of cliffhanger that I like to leave you on when it's a Friday afternoon.

I'm rather delighted to find myself in Homemaker Magazine this month in their 'Voices from the Blogosphere' feature. It's factually incorrect in places, but it's very nice to find myself a year younger than I really am at least! I think this may be my own fault for not having updated my biography for some time!

I haven't bought Homemaker Magazine before, but goodness, it's lovely and I feel quite delighted to appear in its pages. It has a definite craft bent to it, but it's also got a very large dollop of homemaking and interiors-related talk to go with it - it's a combination that really works and which offers something different to the kind of content I come across freely with the blogs that I follow (I tend to follow pure craft blogs as if I began following design blogs too I think I'd begin to feel a little overwhelmed).

I always love baking-related pieces and there were quite a few.

As well as the more geeky bits where a double-page spread is dedicated to discussing different glues. This morning as I dried my hair I read a quick article in there about how to properly wind and take care of an old clock. I don't actually have a clock in our house that needs winding or taking care of*, but I love reading about the processes undertaken for maintaining something like so traditionally made if I did. 

I hope you have a lovely weekend planned. My own will involve some baking and revelling in it being the first weekend I can remember for a long time when all four of us are home together all day on a Saturday (my husband normally coaches my son's football team, so they tend to be out until at least lunchtime).

Florence x

*Actually, I have a very small digital alarm clock which my father brought home for me from a business trip when I was 14. When I went to university I spray-painted it silver and it's spent the last 15 years shedding slivers of paint and generally looking increasingly disgusting. My husband often asks why we have to have this awful alarm clock next to his side of the bed (asks in a fairly rhetorical way, as I know he couldn't actually throw it out either) but I can't bring myself to get rid of it. The article offered no guidance for taking care of such a clock, but I think that may require a more specialist publication, such as 'Hoarders Weekly'. 

Shed envy and dogs on chairs

Today, I bring you some photos of Manjit Sidhu's glorious sewing shed, which I've kindly been given permission to share with you. I first saw this shed on Twitter when Manjit's friend, Catherine, asked me if I'd vote for it as it has been entered into a shed competition (you can vote too if you'd like to - it only takes a second).

I have totally fallen for its gothic windows and lovely green and pink colour scheme.

The shed comes from The Posh Shed Company and is quite possibly one of the loveliest sheds I've ever seen, although I feel chilly just imagining what sewing through the winter in it might be like (particularly as it's May and I currently have the heating pushed up to 24 because it feels like it might never be warm in England again. Having my heating use dictated by what month it is no longer seems a logical ground for deciding such a thing. And for ardent environmentalists who may disapprove of that statement, in my defence, I've made only three short-haul plane journeys in the last eleven years and I've been a vegetarian since I was four years old, which is apparently the single most effective change you can make for having a positive impact on the environment, so I indulge my love of a warm house without guilt).

I love that a shed is so detached from a house that you could go completely wild decorating it. I think my husband and Nell might like to be in one of these during the summer months...or maybe I'd just like them to be in one as Nell is now in the frustrating stage of puppyhood where she moves from one piece of badness to another and has been making her way through computer cables, skirting boards and parts of my kitchen. She is rarely let out of our sight for longer than thirty seconds, but it's amazing how much damage she can do in that short time and also how cleverly she places a toy as a decoy next to the illegal item she's chewing to lull us into believing that she's just innocently chomping away on a stuffed rhino.

When it comes to golden retrievers they grow so quickly that she no longer looks like the puppy in the photo above, but rather like a small, but very proper adult dog. 

Which brings me on to dogs on furniture. I am uncompromising about not wanting her on sofas or upholstered chairs, especially as in six months time she'll be a malting, long-haired mass of gold, but does giving a dog a chair of their own stop them from being quite so persistent in their attempts to share human chairs? I found her on this old wicker chair this morning and thought that I'd actually be quite happy for this to be Nell's chair (will an adult golden retriever curl up to fit on such a chair though?) if it would mean she felt she had a place of her own that's higher than her bed, which seems to be what she covets. 

These photos make her look really quite small still, but it's quite amazing how strong she is. The weekly photos my husband has been taking of her on the Florence height-chart (that's her size relative to a human Florence. Do you see how he tries to draw me in to be a part of his dog's life?) are soon to come to an end as I can barely lift her. Dogs are so very different from cats: she is a solid mass...a bit like a house brick...or a large boulder.

Florence x

The Great British Sewing Bee

I've been mostly working on Squeebles-related things for the last week or so, but I did fit in a quick fabric-buying trip to London one day. I went to the shops on Goldhawk Road, where fabric is only a few pounds per metre, and then on to the Cloth House on Berwick Street, which is far more expensive, but does have an amazing selection. Some photos of my haul will punctuate this post.

The Great British Sewing Bee has somehow come and gone without my managing to blog about it in between, but wasn't it wonderful (I think you can still see it on iPlayer if you missed it)? I watched it with my children and we loved it just as much as we had the Bake-off series (although I loved it a little more, obviously), from the same production company.

I haven't heard of anyone who didn't enjoy the Sewing Bee* and I wonder if it's because it has the same successful formula as the bake-off: the fascination of reality-style television, but with the welcome twist of it containing genuinely nice, normal people being filmed in a way that isn't concentrated on stripping them of their dignity. Anne was an obvious winner right from the start, but that didn't stop it being hugely enjoyable to watch, perhaps because as with sewing, it's more about the process than the result. I felt slightly pained by some of the time constraints though: four hours to make a man's shirt! Even with the cuffs being omitted this seemed like an incredibly pressured task, so the results were fairly amazing.

I was fascinated by how the programme may be perceived by those who don't sew though. One friend said that it didn't inspire her to sew clothing as it looked so stressful, while others were baffled by the terminology. There are some things that, as a seamstress immersed in an online world where everyone sews, you assume are part of common language.

There has been much hilarity from my children over some of the terms learnt while watching the programme, as well as some teasing over what I only now see is my rather predictable solution for styling any garment when asked 'what would you do?'. One morning I was pinning a collar onto a Laurel blouse that I was making and my eight-year old son came in and asked if it was a 'Peter Pan collar' that I was creating. I was fairly stunned, but apparently he is familiar with this term because, in his words, 'you think it would be best to put a Peter Pan collar on everything, even trousers'. Warming to impressing me with his technical sewing knowledge, he then enquired if the collar would be attached 'above the bust' or 'below the bust', chortling to himself wildly as he asked this non-sensical question. He was an alarmingly good mimic of Patrick Grant (the judge from Savile Row) and swept his hands over the garment while commenting on whether my placement of the darts around 'the bust' was quite correct. Both children were fascinated as to why Patrick would never simply say that the fit wasn't right over a person's breasts and were disbelieving when I told them that 'the bust' was more polite and that in dressmaking you'd never refer to someones breasts. But I can still hear them impersonating Patrick and May while they brush their teeth before bed some evenings asking one other if they put their toothpaste onto the toothbrush while holding it above the bust or below the bust.

Anyway, Love Productions have asked if I'll share their request for entrants for the second series which will be made in the coming autumn and winter. If you're interested in applying, then do go and visit here. I'm so looking forward to watching the second series.

What did you think of the Sewing Bee? Did you love it? Could you sew under that kind of pressure? Are you considering entering?

Florence x

 * Apart from sometimes in the online commenting section beneath newspaper articles about the Sewing Bee. I've noticed that these comment sections often seem to contain the thoughts of people seemingly angry at the entire world. They scare me slightly.

Ps. I've been shortlisted for a BritMums award. If you'd like to vote for me you can go here, where you'll find me in the craft section. x

My second Colette Laurel

Oh dear. I said in my last post that I had more Laurels planned, but even I'm surprised that I started on my next one almost immediately. I think there may be at least another three Laurels in my head. I'd quite like to make a few from light-weight cottons as, as much as I'd like my life to be one that accommodates wearing silk at all times, the reality is that cotton would be a more practical option much of the time. 

This one has a completely look and feel as I've used a plain fabric and made the piping on the collar and binding at the sleeves the main feature. The other thing I've done differently is to raise the neckline a little to accommodate a proper Peter Pan collar, rather than one that's attached with bias binding (this is how I attached the collar for my last Laurel)

The silk has been sandblasted, which gives it a finish that has a semi-matt lustre, a manageable hand and a slightly faded look to the colour - I love it. It's the most wonderful fabric, but not without a few problems. Firstly, it will expose the slightest mark, so I'll probably wear it when we're going out for drinks, rather than dinner (which may cause images of Paddington with marmalade on his paws to spring to mind, but it would be precisely when wearing a top like this that a stray olive would choose to hurl itself at me and roll down my top). The sandblasted silk sews beautifully on the machine where its own weight is supported on the bed of the machine, but it's less forgiving when hand-sewing and when I hemmed it by hand I found I had to be incredibly careful not to cause tiny runs to form in the fabric by pulling on the thread with too much force.

It is so lovely to finally have a go-to pattern that I know is going to just work in every way and fit reliably well each time I make it. I have some Nani Iro that I've been so reticent to cut into, but I'm now pondering a Laurel dress.

It's Friday, the weekend is almost here and we have cake in the house to celebrate my father's retirement later today (his retirement has been on the verge of happening for several years but he has always agreed to stay on a little longer at the last minute. I feel quite disbelieving that he isn't just announcing a retirement to have a quick pitstop for cakes, before picking up his briefcase and heading back off to the City again). I will not be wearing either of my Laurels because of the Paddington/marmalade problem. Cake eating is just such a time when a Laurel in voile or cotton would be perfect.

Wishing you a lovely weekend,
Florence x

A Colette Patterns Laurel in Liberty print silk

Following my last post about the construction details and the adjustments I made to the pattern, here are some photos of my finished Laurel blouse.

It's already my favourite item of self-made clothing. It's rare for me to want to wear something I've made straight away. Often it will hang from my picture rail for a few days first so that it has time to settle in my mind and I can come back and look at it more objectively and try to gain some peace of mind that it doesn't look too overtly like I've made it myself (in a bad way, at least). Happily, I haven't felt that this top needs any settling time. The only thing currently stopping it from breaking out of my wardrobe is that I love it so much that I want to save it for when I'm going somewhere special - there's every chance this will be soon, for a weekend with my sister. (I've been tempted to make her one too, but the last time we worth matching outfits was when I was 6 and she was 9, after our mother bought us matching miniskirts and jumpers to wear on the plane journey as we emigrated to Australia for a few years. It may be a treat reserved for when one's leaving the country with the knowledge that you have no chance of future contact with anyone who has witnessed your matchiness. Or just for when you're 6 and 9).

The blouse is really quite loose-fitting, but the pattern's cleverly placed diamond-shaped double-point darts at the back mean that it follows the curve of your back, giving a fit that's loose, yet tailored. I used double-pointed darts to try and rectify a dress I was making that didn't look quite right last winter and while the dress never came to anything, I realised then that they're an amazing way of stopping something from being shapeless when viewed from the side. I may want to add them to everything now.

The silks I used while making this (a Liberty print crepe de chine and a sand-blasted silk that happened to be an identical colour to one of the flowers in the printed fabric) were slippery, but thankfully not too prone to fray, which meant that I could actually enjoy making the piping for the collar and the narrow binding for the sleeves.

Inside it's finished throughout with french seams. Grainline Studio has written a fantastic tutorial which will give anyone new to these all-enclosing seams the confidence to try one not only on a straight seam, but an armhole too, called 'French all your Seams' (I love that title!) which is well worth having a look at if you're working with a fine, light-weight fabric. I contemplated overlocking this blouse as it's so much quicker, but the idea seemed slightly obscene when I considered how much I adore this fabric.  

What I love about tiny Liberty prints is that they morph into something different when viewed from a distance - what looks like quite intense colours and a busy pattern when viewed at close range, tone down to something easily wearable the moment you're a yard away from them, and a pattern repeat that wasn't previously observable suddenly emerges (I noticed the same thing with this top which I made a few years ago).

I'm entering this top into the Colette Patterns Laurel sewing contest. Have you made your own Laurel entry? I can't recommend trying this pattern highly enough - it's such a lovely blank canvas for showing off a special fabric or adding in your own details. Obviously, because I love this pattern so much, I have several more already planned in my head and hopefully soon to be made. I think this may be my summer of Laurel.

Florence x

Colette Laurel: Part 1

At the end of last week I found some time for some dressmaking, having suddenly been inspired by the warmer weather. While I've always loved Colette Patterns for skirts and trousers, I've been wary of using their patterns on my top half as their smallest bust measurement is nearly 2" bigger than my own. I've either tended to draft my own patterns or use those from Japanese pattern books where they're cut for a smaller frame. However, I've now realised that I've been depriving myself from a huge amount of fun as making a SBA (small bust adjustment) to the pattern was actually a very simple process. I referred to The Complete Photo Guide to Perfect Fitting and made my adjustment to the paper pattern out the outset. If you don't have this book (which, having now use it, I can say is brilliant), then I'm told by Kerry that this tutorial by Megan Nielsen is excellent too and it looks very similar to the one in my book.

My main concern in changing the pattern was that my small bust measurement comes from having a very small ribcage rather than a barely-there bust so I was unsure if an SBA would work in the way I hoped. But my worries were unfounded as the newly drafted darts give a perfect fit.

Nina commented that she was in the midst of making a Laurel herself and found that there was a lot of ease at the back of the sleeve head - I found exactly the same, although happily this was fairly easily rectified by shaving half an inch from the pattern in this area.

If this all sounds like a lot of changes and fitting issues, it's actually not at all and I'm so delighted with the finished top that spending twenty minutes altering the pattern seems irrelevant. It is a beautifully cut pattern and once I was happy with my toile, I knew that it was going to be worth risking cutting into two of my most treasured fabrics which I've had stashed away for a year now: a beautiful silk crepe de chine Liberty print and a plain, sand-washed steely blue silk.

I drafted a Peter Pan collar to go on my Laurel top and you can see it above before it's sewn into place.

I think that covers my construction issues, so tomorrow I'll hopefully show you the finished garment - I'm already planning my next Laurel as I love this pattern so much. I'm also contemplating a Violet blouse. Every time I use a Colette Pattern I'm reminded anew of just how good they are.

Have you been tempted into some dressmaking now that Spring has almost sprung from the gloomy dark box its been hiding itself in?

Florence x

A summer bag tutorial for the Liberty blog

Regular readers will know that I have something of a bias for using Liberty prints when sewing, so I'm delighted to have been asked to write a guest post tutorial for the Liberty Craft blog. I designed a summery bag for carrying groceries (or if the English summer arrives this year, supplies to and from the park) - it's cavernous, but isn't over-sized and the handles can be set to be just the right length to wear the bag both on your shoulder or to carry it in your hand.

I chose my fabrics from Liberty's new Stile collection of quilting-weight cottons - I am utterly in love with this elegant, deeply saturated blue print (and it's the same colour as my very favourite cardigan). 

The upper portion of the bag lining is cut as a separate section so that you can use the same print as that of the outer fabric, so there's no visible peeky-over fabric bit from a contrasting lining.

And the outer pocket is piped with more Stile print goodness. 

And there's a boxy bottom. Because that always seems like a good and practical thing. 

I hope that if you're in the market for making a quickly-put-together spring-summer bag then you might enjoy making one yourself. I can't wait to use mine as it's been sitting patiently in my wardrobe for over a month now. As I write this it's still raining, but I'm hoping that the publication of my tutorial on Liberty's blog will serendipitously affect the weather systems and cause it to be usable as of tomorrow...

You can find a bit about me, as well as my bag tutorial, here. And if a summer bag doesn't appeal today, then do go and look through the archives as there's some wonderful tutorials from other bloggers to be found there. 

Florence x

My daughter's sewing

I haven't been around quite as much recently due to the Easter break, but my sewing machine hasn't been entirely neglected. My daughter and I had a day to ourselves and she decided she'd like to sew. She chose some Liberty Tana lawn and I showed her how to insert a zip. She did everything from cutting the fabrics with the rotary cutter (eep!), ironing on the interfacing (double eep!) and sewing the zip in place...the only thing I refused to let her do was use a match to singe the end of the velvet ribbon zip pull. Not because of any incompetence on her part, but more because of my own inability to deal with a potential fire near her (if you follow me on Instagram then you'll know that I had 'an incident' recently where my handmade Liberty oven gloves caught fire and I suffered a total memory blank as to how useful water can be in such a situation).

She took such care over every detail. When I looked at her little zipper purse afterward I realised that there was no part of the machining that I thought I could have done better myself - such a lovely feeling.

She seemed to really enjoy the process: the aha! moment (not of the Morten Harket variety) when you discover that the counter-intuitive order that the lining and outer fabrics are placed in when you're inserting the zip really does work; seeing how the different sewing machine feet helped her to do the things she wanted; the satisfaction of seeing the lining sewn neatly in place so that it can never be caught in the zip. Her innate neatness and perfectionism seem so well-suited to sewing.

We also had a day to ourselves in London. I took her to Liberty - she fell in love with every part of it and wanted to stay so long that we had to briefly go and revive her aching back in Le Pain Quotidien with a pastry before she could return to complete her third tour of the stationary department.

We also went up The Monument which marks the Great Fire of London. The top was 311 steps up a spiral staircase. As everyone else (including toddlers and the elderly) happily raced up and down, I seemed paralysed by vertigo and was nearly violently ill. But at the top there were amazing views and even buildings that seemed to show quilt patterns within their walls.

During the holidays we were also sent a review copy of Ruby Loves, a craft magazine aimed at 8 - 12 year olds. It contains a mixture of baking, paper craft and sewing. It's the perfect thing for a rainy afternoon, especially if (unlike us) you don't have cupboards already bulging with craft supplies, as nearly everything you'll need is included, from pastry cutters to buttons and fabric. 

Our verdict was that we both thought it was a really lovely magazine, but that it would appeal to a slightly younger girl (my daughter is 11) . However, when I was out with my son one afternoon I came back to find that she'd used some of the fabric and ribbons included with the magazine for her own purposes: hand sewing a toy mouse for Honey.

The holidays are now over and the slight rise in temperature has turned my thoughts to dressmaking. I've bought the Colette Laurel pattern from Backstitch and am looking forward to eventually wearing something that isn't woollen or made of heat-tech fabric. It may require a few more degrees of warmth to enable that though.

Florence x