Annette suggested that those of us who participated might write up how we prepared; I thought that was a great idea.  I’d never attended  a Sew In before, and, about a week in advance, I suddenly realized that I’d need to plan — especially if sharing even a large table with six or seven other sewists.

First item on the agenda was a rolling case for my travel machine.  The one in the photo above isn’t meant for machines; it’s a “yarn tote” from JoAnn, but my mini machine fit perfectly into it:

All of JoAnn’s rolling sewing machine cases are ridiculously overpriced, but the yarn totes were less so, and with a 50% coupon, this was a reasonable purchase, although it probably has a durability rating of zero.  That’s OK; I’ll baby it, and it will probably serve the purpose for years.  The wheel and handle construction appeared to be the same as on the bigger machine totes costing three times as much, which made this seem worth the gamble.

Then I gave some thought to what project I should take. This is what I settle on:

I had just finished my Koos coat (Vogue 1277), and knew that a project with huge pieces like that one wasn’t a good idea in a shared space, so I decided to begin work on  a coat for Mr. Noile.  This one’s unlined, so I knew I’d have lots of Hong Kong finishing to do, and it’s also full of epaulets, pockets and flaps — small pieces that could be easily managed if space was tight.

For a long time I’ve been trying to convince myself to make a roll-up fabric sewing kit, but I could never decide on the configuration, or how I’d carry it, once made.  For Annette’s Sew In, I used a plastic tote that fit into the open pocket on the front of the rolling tote.

There was plenty of room for all my sewing accessories and all the notions I needed for my project.  It’s easy to put a container like this on the floor, out of the way of other sewists, saving table space, and easy to grab things from it, too.  (I removed the jacket zippers before I took this shot; this box was full!)

I keep my small travel rulers and my Ginghers in another small, thin,  plastic case just to make sure they don’t get bent in transit, or the points nicked.  Everything in this box is s duplicate of supplies I have at home, so that I don’t have to unpack it after venturing out.  (That’s a legacy from the days when I sometimes traveled 800 miles to Mr. Noile’s parents’ home and sewed there.)  Keeping this gear packed up minimizes the chance that I’ll forget something on any particular day.

My project went into a zippered, mesh, double-sided packing cube.

I cut out everything (except interfacing, as it turned out), and put the small cut pieces on one side of the cube, and large ones on the other.  Love those packing cubes! This one served as a handy file system, and kept the project pieces I wasn’t working on confined neatly and out of the way.

The packing cube and all my miscellaneous non-sewing stuff went into this tote:

And that was it for luggage.

My secret weapon, though, for portable sewing, is my little Kenmore 1030.  It’s a small metal machine, made back in one of the rare eras when Kenmore made a good machine.  (My 1030 was made in Japan in 1973-1974. The mid-seventies were kind of a golden moment in Kenmore sewing machine history.)

The first machine I ever bought was  a Kenmore 1040, which was the model just above this one, with a few more features.That machine was the only one I used for years, and I was knocking out Vogue Couturier patterns on it with no trouble at all.  It was a fantastic machine, and I’ve missed it a lot over the years since.  When I went looking for a travel machine, I knew what I wanted, and found this one on eBay.  The owner had loved it just as much as I do; I felt honored to give it a new home.

I packed several days in advance of the Sew In, which turned out to be a good thing, since I walked into the sewing room the day before and realized that I’d failed to pack the 1030’s controller.  Whoops!  That’s a detail you’d want to check carefully; they’re just too easy to overlook.

It was so good to see Andrea, Karen, Lee and Mimi again, to meet Annette in person, and to meet two (new to me) sewists, Val and a very nice woman whose name I am horrified to realize I never got.  (Bad ears, and worse memory, I’m sorry to say.)

Annette’s blog post has a very helpful list for hosts, so I’m going to follow her example, and provide a check list for Sew In guests:

~ Choose a project that will be easy to manage in a group. Lee assembled quilting squares, Val made fabric bowls, and Karen whipped up three tee shirts during this Sew In.  Andrea wasn’t able to join us until later; she was in the early stages of making a gorgeous coat, and still prepping the individual pieces.

~ Prepare your project with an eye toward space constraints (cutting pieces in advance, etc.).

~ Pack your project pattern (if you’re using one) and notions. Remember interfacing, zippers, buttons, cording and any other extras you might need.

~ if you are starting a new project and want to save time on the day, wind your bobbins.

~ Make sure you have the tools you’ll need:  scissors, rulers, measuring tapes, pins, pin cushion, extra needles, and any personal favorites that make your sewing life easier, etc.

~ Double check to be sure that you’ve got both machine AND power cord/controller.  Mimi had left hers at home, just as I almost did.

~  If acceptable to your host, bring any magazines, stash or other items you are willing to part with (but be kind, and take away whatever isn’t acquired by the time the day is over).  I was thrilled to take home a couple of Burdas and Threads I didn’t have, and a couple of pieces of yardage I’d never have purchased, but can imagine using for fun.  One womans’s stash is .  .  .  another woman’s stash!

Annette wisely decided that we’d step out for food, and invited us to bring healthy snacks.  (It is just post-holiday season!)  Her home is ideally located for lunching, with a lot of eateries just around the corner, which was an advantage, of course.  We brought pizza and sandwiches back to the house.  Getting take out meant no fussing at the Sew In, no need to clear the table of our projects and machines, and no major clean up, either.  In a less congenial area, everyone could potentially bring an easy-to-eat, fast lunch, and get back to sewing just as quickly.

Well, actually, I didn’t make several of the garments I’d planned.  Here’s the list of what I did make:

1. a dress
2. a reversible tank top
3. a skirt
4. a print tunics
5. a solid tunic
6. (7. 8.) three pair of leggings

That’s a set of   eight coordinated garments which can be interchanged a bunch of ways. The total cost of for all eight pieces was under $60 (USD), or about seven dollars and fifty cents a piece.  (Don’t hate  me; I can go to New York City any time and buy inexpensive stretch fabrics!  At least until the fabric district disappears.)

(My original post quoted a likely total cost of about $70, but I had also purchased several yards of a spandex that I didn’t end up using.)

All eight pieces fit into a single packing cube, rolled up like so:

Here it is, all zipped up with a ninth piece added:

This cube is 13.5 inches by 11.5 inches by 3 inches deep — not too big to carry in a large handbag!

The ninth piece wasn’t part of the original plan.  It’s an eggplant-colored wrap that you may be able to suss out on the lower right of the first photo.  I haven’t blogged about it yet.  I take it along to wear when going from 95 degrees into air-conditioning.

In the end, I didn’t follow my plan exactly as originally intended.  Instead of a wrap jacket, and instead of making two long-sleeved tops, I made two sleeveless tunics.  We’re really hurting this summer on the East coast, so “sleeveless” was a much more appealing idea.  The tunics gave me mini-dresses that I can wear alone with the leggings.  Also, I made only one sleeveless shell, but made it reversible.

Thoughts:

• Sewing with a plan is fun!
• These garments were so quick to sew that the entire wardrobe could have been done on a week’s worth of evenings.  Choosing simple patterns might be a good way to kick start when motivation is lacking.
• Because this was sort of a kooky project, I let myself experiment with fabrics I wouldn’t necessarily  usually wear.  It’s good to move outside the comfort zone a bit.  (I’m a linen or technical fabrics wench as a rule.)
• On the other hand, I learned that a tropical spandex print isn’t really “me”, at least not when it involves long sleeves.  My princess dress wears well, but the wild print makes it feel like a whole body tattoo — and all I can’t think about when I’m wearing it is the way those tattoos degrade and become muddy over time, and the way tattoos look a decade later, when skin has morphed.  Not a pretty image; it kind of spoils the dress for me.
• It’s a lot of fun to be able to sneak 20 minutes and run in and stitch up a pair of leggings!  Verry satisfying!
• This was a great way to discover and explore a new (to me) pattern line.
• If the princess dress were made in something a little more, ahem, mature tasteful this wardrobe might carry me almost anywhere. (If it were a little black dress, for example.)
• Wardrobe in a pocket; I love it!

Related:

Making a Reversible Tank

Threads Wardrobe Storyboard

Christine Jonson Princess Dress 1117

Christine Jonson BaseWear One Top 622

Christine Jonson Skirt 1219

Christine Jonson BaseWear One Leggings 622

Tunic/Tank Dress from BaseWear One Pattern 622

I made up a storyboard to keep my goal firmly in mind, and I even made the Princess Dress, although I’m not much of a dress-wearer.

Not only is the storyboard a great help in keeping me on track, but it’s a marvelous tool for checking and gathering notions.  I used line drawings from Christine’s site (altering at least one neckline according to my whim), and mocked it up on my computer, leaving room (more or less) for swatches.

The next step was to print it it on cardstock and glue my fabric swatches on.  Then I cut a transparent quilting template to fit over the whole thing, which protects it when attached to a clipboard.  With clipboard in hand, heading to the fabric store to pick up whatever thread or notions I need is fast and easy.  Matching colors is a cinch using the storyboard; it’s much easier than managing a slew of loose swatches.

Inevitably, I’ve made a few changes.  I’ve decided not to make the sleeveless vest, since I can’t actually see myself wearing it.  In summer, if I need a wrap, I need it over my arms, to compensate for air-conditioning.  And I’m not sure what I’m going to do about the jacket.  Do I make it reversible?  In a print?  And I’m not sure I’ll make the sleeved top from the Princess dress pattern, since I now suspect that, for this particular design, my bust is better balanced with a skirt.

But changes and refinement as I go along are all part of the program.  I’m really enjoying making up a planned wardrobe; I think this is a first for me, and I’m counting on making this my “go-to-it’s-brainless” summer travel wardrobe.

So far, I’ve completed five of the garments, and will be knocking off a few more as I wait on the tradesman’s fancy and the moment I can put the house back together.  Finished are the dress, a reversible top, one skirt, and two pair of leggings.  Reviews to come, and more on the way as I knock off the rest.

Christine Jonson quotes a budget of “just under $400″ for nine to twelve garments that yield over twenty outfits.  My costs will run under $70 for all pieces, but I’m not using the premium cotton/lycra fabrics Jonson features.  (I can say “for all pieces” now, because I’m working with a finite number of fabrics, even though I haven’t finished the project.)

Related:

Christine Jonson Skirt 1219

Making a Reversible Tank

Threads Wardrobe Storyboard

Christine Jonson Princess Dress 1117

Christine Jonson BaseWear One Top 622

Christine Jonson Skirt 1219

Christine Jonson BaseWear One Leggings 622

Tunic/Tank Dress from BaseWear One Pattern 622

Wardrobe Wrap-Up

I love my Five Fingers, but, let’s face it, if you wear those babies around town you’re going to be discussing your feet with everyone you encounter.  Merrell (whose shoes, along with Clarks, fit me better than any others) got together with Vibram and decided to solve this serious social problem.

Five Fingers have a separate little pocket for each toe, and they are amazingly comfortable shoes; Mr. Noile and I wear ours kayaking.  The general idea is that they allow you to walk just as you do when barefoot; a whole bunch of runners swear by them, and feel they’re much better for feet and legs than standard running shoes.

These Mary Janes are the covert version of the barefoot locomotion.  There are a bunch of other styles in this line (these are called “Pure Glove”), but this is the one I’ll wear every day.  Someone described wearing these as being like wearing socks with soles; it’s true!  Sooo good to the feet!

Oh, and they’re machine washable.  They may just possibly be the perfect shoe in which to travel; they’re light AND sturdy — as well as being readily removable if you have the misfortune of encountering TSA.

These might be barefoot shoes even Lsa could love .  .  .

See’s, for those of you who aren’t fortunate enough to know it, is a regional candy company, started long ago by the iconic Mary See in her kitchen.  Many of those of us who no longer grace San Francisco’s hills mourn the loss of easy access to See’s almost more than no longer living in that glorious city .   .   .  See’s candies are just wonderful. So there were four of us slavering over the box when Shams opened it, and three of us gasping in horror (I think this is no exaggeration) when Shams took a large knife and rent each candy asunder with a mighty blow!

Yes, Shams committed See-icide.  That woman has lived in San Francisco so long that she takes See’s for granted!  Shams seemed to think this was a practical means of checking the interiors, but, I ask you, where is the reverence???

If you check her blog, you’ll see that she’s posted a picture of Peggy holding the weapon.  This was obviously an attempt to cover her  tracks, and (dare I say it?) frame the innocent Peggy.  You’ll also note that I am still in shock, moments later, as Peg is attempting to graciously move past the scandalous moment.  I can’t prove that Carolyn was as stunned as I was, but it’s my recollection that she was, as any right-minded person would have been.

I should have traveled with my laminated See’s guide.  I keep it by my desk at all times, and yet, in this, our time of need, I left it at home.

We did shop, but that was later, after we were very, very well fed.  And yes, we ate every bit of the See’s, every single delicious bite.

I’ve now solved this vexing problem by sewing Demeritwear badges onto my packing cubes.  Here’s the badge I’ve sewed to the shoe cube (there’s a high-heel patch for those  who are less utilitarian than I):

This one’s for the “tops and bottoms” cube:

This for the outerwear cube (hoodie, jacket — stuff for in the environment, hence the “earthy” patch):

This sporty one is for specialty gear (workout clothes; bathing suit; silk  longies for winter):

And this badge is for  the “dainties” cube (Demeritwear calls this a “tanning” patch, I think, but it gets the point across):

(Got a shadow across the bottom of the “tanning” patch.  I’ll try to post a better image when I get a chance.)

It doesn’t hurt a bit that these patches make me grin every time I see them.  Sometimes a weary traveler just needs a bit of whimsy along the way.

Note:  I think all Demeritwear badges can be ironed-on now, but I always prefer to sew.

Disclosure:  Please read it a the bottom of the Case Mod post. It doesn’t amount to much, but I want to keep the FTC happy.  That’s our job as citizens, don’t you think?  Keeping the government happy?

The idea is that the top in question (really a tunic), made in an interesting fabric, would work as a top layer, and equally well all by itself, covering a multitude of temperature/social situations.  Perfect!  I”d show you a picture of theirs, but I can’t find one online, and I’m not going to go through the hassle of scanning it.   Too bad — theirs is cute in a gold mesh.

I knew that I had just the right fabric for my version — A couple of years ago, I bought this light silk bouclé from Kashi at Metro Textile:

It was an unusual purchase for me (so bright!), but the colors were wonderful, so I couldn’t resist.  My mother-in-law also bought a length, which was quite adventuresome for her, as she leads an utterly monochromatic life, clotheswise.  The wonderful thing about this fabric was that it looked terrific on me (rosy skin tones) and just as wonderful on my  mother-in-law (for whom orange shades are most flattering).

My mother-in-law’s monochrome tendencies reasserted themselves once she got home, so I ended up buying her yardage, which meant that I had so much that I didn’t have to feel at all badly about experimenting with any of it!    So I took a yard, and washed it in the machine.  It’s the law in the Noile household:  silks must be washable.  Ditto for anything with which I travel.  This was the result:

A denser weave, deepened colors, and oooh-la-la!  I loved it, and quickly tossed another couple of yards into the machine.  (Delicate, of course, and cold water wash always.)

I was lucky that the fabric was wide to begin with, and that I had lots, because, of course, there was a bunch of shrinkage.  I have notes somewhere, but the loss was probably a good 15%, maybe even a little more.  If Kashi’s prices hadn’t been so reasonable, this tunic would never have seen life!

The SewStylish pattern is very simple, and there are only three pieces:  the front, the back, and the cowl.  You either scale it up by hand using graph paper, or you take it to a copy shop and get it enlarged by 800 per cent.   I didn’t bother to scale the cowl, as all you really need for a rectangle are the dimensions.  There’s a center back seam, which I’d just eliminate whenever possible; there’s no good reason for it if your fabric is wide enough to accommodate the piece.

Construction couldn’t be simpler:  Make the cowl; sew the center back seam; sew the shoulder seams (I added twill tape to limit stretching);

sew the side seams; finish the armholes; hem.  The instructions call for finishing the armholes with “Seams Great”, but I couldn’t figure out why I’d ever want to do that, so I settled for serging and turning the edge under, then hand-stitching so that nothing showed on the right side.  (I used four threads to serge; this is a very ravelly fabric, and that fourth thread was extra security.)

The result was kind of cool:

(Forgive my poor duct tape dummy — she’s lopsided, too big, and needs replacing.  Not to mention that I’ve not perfectly arranged the tunic, which isn’t helping.)

The tunic fit nicely, and it was a lot of fun to wear (lighter than a sweater, a really nifty shell on its own, goes with everything, etc.), but there was a problem.  Here’s a side view of the original version, which hints at what’s at issue.  (Unfortunately, I didn’t take a picture of the original back):

You can’t tell for sure in this picture, or in the one published in the magazine, but the back is voluminous — really, really full.  Too full by waaay too much to ignore.  It traveled the distance from “interesting” to “baffling”, so I made a radical change.  After the fact.  Which, of course, destroyed the structural integrity of the garment, but, hey, it’s not as if I had a choice.

Rather than pick stitches out of the tiny, tiny bouclé loops, I simply cut up the back, and took in a pie-shaped wedge, beginning at nothing where the center back met the cowl, and ending by removing a full five-and-a-half inches from each side of the center back.

The center back, of course, is supposed to be cut on grain.  Sigh.  I’m going to wear this around a bit in the privacy of my own home, and if I love it, I’ll make it all over again (I can probably salvage the cowl).  There’s a huge incentive for making it right:

It just happens to coordinate with every one of my Burda polos!  Next time, though, I’ll eliminate the center back seam completely (now that the pattern piece is narrower, that should work fine).  Others should beware the armholes — they look impossibly small on the pattern, but aren’t quite as small as they seem because the tunic falls off the shoulders, and arms exit lower than with a conventional armhole.  These fit perfectly on me (I wouldn’t want them bigger when wearing the tunic without a shirt underneath), but this would be worth checking, as I’m on the small side.

Other notes:

SewStylish seems to be having an identity crisis.  I almost missed this issue on the stands because “SewStylish” is nowhere in the header on the cover.  (It is in small print — “SewStylish.com” — on the lower edge of the cover, and on the spine, neither of which are visible when scanning hundreds of magazines in a rack.)

I went to the SewStylish website, but it’s an awful mess, and finding information about the current issue was an exercise in futility.  Except that I learned that this is Vol. 4, even though there’s nothing in the magazine that identifies it that way.  Which is too bad, because this issue is great, and it would be nice if it were more findable, on-line or in-store.  I’d call this a branding failure.

The three small circular badges running across the center of the picture represent (left to right):  storms at sea; rum in cocoa afterward (incredible!); and snow, glorious snow — three totems of my favorite travel experiences.

These quirky badges are from Demeritwear.  I love the clarity of their designs, and the quality is also really impressive, which isn’t something you can say about a lot of this type of thing (see Budapest badge, above, for example!).

Demeritwear shows only a few uses for their clever embroidered patches on their website.  They suggest adding them across tee-shirts, or to baseball caps, and they’ll even sell you the shirts or caps in question, if you like.  I probably wouldn’t use them this way myself, but I’ve managed to find a few things to do with them.   If, like me, you don’t own an embroidery machine, but sometimes want a little something along those lines to spruce up a project, you might like these.

Disclosure:  As a result of a communication unrelated to this or any other blog, Demeritwear added several unsolicited patches to an order I made with them, along with a great note.  It’s easy to love a company that responds to suggestions with appreciation and a positive response, but no one at Demeritwear knows that I have a blog (at least not yet!), and, as I’ve been crazy about these quirky little badges for years, I can affirm that I haven’t been successfully bribed to say good things about them. Thanks to the FTC, though, you can draw your own conclusions about that!

Related:  How To Find Your Bag Anywhere

Three new feet for my Pfaff 1229!

This one is a “Knit Edge/Piping/Beading Foot”.  According to my Pfaff accessory catalog, “[t]he Knit edge Foot has sides of different heights, making it simple to sew thick seams on knits and fur”.  The groove in the bottom also makes it possible to attach bead strands and piping.

This one is a 3 mm rolled hem foot.  “[Y]ou can hem light to medium weight fabrics for clothing and home decorating items without having to pre-iron the fabric edges”.

And this one is a 4,5 mm felling foot.  “Flat-felled seams are extremely durable and popular as the typical jeans seams.”  This one is for lightweight fabrics; I’ll need the 6,5 size if I want to sew denim or heavier fabrics.

My Pfaff 1229 takes accessories marked “D”; I was lucky to find a mechanic at the shop in Budapest who knew what I wanted, especially since I don’t speak Hungarian and he didn’t speak English!  I found a machine on the back wall with my shank, and gestured to explain the rest.  It worked out beautifully — there’s a lot to be said for good will and the kindness of strangers!

My Pfaff Accessory Catalogue, gift of another kind (stateside) mechanic, is a treasure-trove not only because it lists the various feet, but because it also includes instructions for using them.  Snap it up if you find one!

I’ve always wondered what to do with them, and now I know.  I have a suitcase that came with a protective sleeve, and I’ve begun to sew said patches onto the cover:

I’d never desecrate my car like this, but somehow it seems OK to do this with my suitcase.  And, let’s face it, I’ll always be able to find my black bag in a sea of them, won’t I?  Not to mention the memories, the lovely memories .  .  .

This one is my personal emblem, which evokes, for me, the lovely ruined baths of Budapest, to which I hope to return as often as possible:

It’s decorating the identification flap.  Without it, I’d never remember where my ID is on the cover.

This badge, and a slew of others I have handy, is from a company called Demeritwear, which sells a whole line of somewhat wacky embroidered badges of impeccable quality.  If you want that little bit of je ne sais quois added to just about anything to which you can put a stitch, Demeritwear is your “go-to” place.  At the least, a visit to the site will make you grin.

We first did this on little Noilette’s toddler backpack, which was a great hit with her; kind of a portable scrapbook.  There wasn’t much chance of leaving it behind anywhere when it was such an important part of her well-traveled life, and so easily identified as hers.

Disclaimer: The usual.  It’s my blog, no one pays me for content or supplies it to me.

Related:  Case Mod