Fortunately, I don’t like doughnuts, so there was zero chance this would send me to the local bake shop, or even to the kitchen, to overindulge.  If I liked doughnuts, I’d prefer chocolate, so that’s what I made.  It’s made of ordinary cheapy craft felt, but the pliable kind, not the stiff stuff.

I cut a doughnut-shaped piece of plastic and inserted it into the stuffing at dead center so that there was no chance that I could stick a pin all the way through, since I intend to wear this on my wrist.  That should be deliciously ludicrous — but quite practical.

Sniping aside, everyone should go to WoollyDuck on Etsy and see what the deranged and brilliant person behind the shop has done with felted wool.   Absolute genius!   Could I do this at home?  Not on your life.  So maybe SewStylish wasn’t so far off base, after all –  maybe it was just the the focus of the article that was off base, and SewStylish should have been celebrating the craft, not just featuring pincushions.

Mr. Noile has vetoed buying “Fish and Chips” (what’s his problem?!?), but somebody should, because it’s utterly amazing:

Yeah, with newsprint wrapper!

WoollyDuck Fish and Chips

Here's the front, with an inverted pleat.

And the back, with a full-button opening.

Sheena Matheiken began an experiment in fashion sustainability in May, 2009.  What if she were to wear only one dress for an entire year?  365 days?

How do you design a dress that can be worn all year around? We took inspiration from one of my staple dresses, improving upon the shape and fit to add on some seasonal versatility. The dress is designed so it can be worn both ways, front and back, and also as an open tunic. It’s made from a durable, breathable cotton, good for New York summers and good for layering in cooler seasons. With deep hidden pockets to appease my deep aversion for carrying purses.

Actually, there were seven dresses, all identical, because, I suppose, doing laundry every night isn’t anybody’s idea of sustainability.

The dress part of the project was intriguing enough, but Sheena and her crew went one step further.  They called the exercise The Uniform Project, and turned it into a fundraiser for a group that educated children in India.  Here’s how Sheena described the other part of her mission:

The Uniform Project is also a year-long fundraiser for the Akanksha Foundation, a grassroots movement that is revolutionizing education in India. At the end of the year, all contributions will go toward Akanksha’s School Project to fund uniforms and other educational expenses for children living in Indian slums.

Here she is on July 10, wearing her LBD as an over-dress.  The red trim is under the dress, and then picked up again by the belt:

Halfway through, celebrating the sixth month anniversary of the Project.  The front pleat gave her enough room to add a petticoat beneath.  Add a collar, a satin cummerbund and those great gloves — and wow:

On January 5, with a t-shirt under and a sweatshirt pastiche-of-a-corset providing a burst of color:

On March 24, with just a big belt, a cowl and exuberant tights:

On January 21st, an over-T and a wrap belt:

There’s more, much more at The Uniform Project.  Click through the calendar at the left to see each day’s image.  Sheena is adorable and gamine, but there’s plenty of inspiration for those of us who are neither.

Sheena’s styles get quite wild and crazy; I’ve deliberately chosen the most conservative in deference to those of us who like character, but who aren’t gamine types (or very young women) ourselves.  But every day of Sheena’s project is worth viewing — it’s a real treat.  And, though the Project is over,  it’s not too late to donate to Arkanksha, either, if you like.

For fashionistas, there are notes for each image describing the accessories, etc., all of which were thrifted or donated to the Project.  As of today (May 19, 2010) the Uniform Project has raised $94,742.00, enough, they say, to keep 263 kids in school through the Arkanksha Foundation.  The fashion may veer toward the wacky, but there’s no more down-to-earth goal than educating tomorrow’s adults.  Good work, on all fronts, Sheena and crew!

First, the incomparable Kenneth King put on a wildly entertaining show, hauling out a number of amazing garments from his bright red suitcase and describing how he went about designing them.  He was wearing an ornately embellished blazer he got at a thrift shop or consignment store, to which he added incredible frogs to replace the buttons and buttonholes:

He was very, very funny, extremely personable, and completely accessible.  His presentation was an off-the-wall,  rip-roaring way to start a fun weekend.  There wasn’t much ice left unmelted by the time he was packing up.

He started off by telling anyone who hated fur to just shut up.  So we did.  Kenneth King is a force of nature; you don’t argue with that.  Ignoring the fur part (see?  I’m still not talking fur), the lining on this bolero was incredible.

He started with a photo of trees (with snow on the branches?), used the photo to turn the limbs to shadows, then pin-pricked the pattern, dusted through the holes to reproduce the pattern on the lining, and so on.  I hope I’m describing this particular garment — I may be conflating this with another.  There was lots and lots of awesome “so on”.  If Kenneth King is in town, get on the train!

The topic of the day was embellishment, and we’d all come with kits of goodies so that we could play and experiement.  Kenneth showed us a bunch of useful techniques, and brought along samples, too:

Interestingly, he did not bring any books for sale, owing, he said, to an agreement with his publisher.  He had quite a few tales to tell of working with his publisher, so any would-be authors also walked away with a bunch of information that was likely to come in handy.

I kept trying to get just the right shot of his gadget kit, but, hey, it’s a real tool box, and he was using it, so this was all I ended up with:

I’m pretty sure that’s an industrial-strength cosmetics kit.  Clever, and perfect for the job!

Then we were on our own for lunch in the area; my two companions were almost too-patient with my peculiar food needs, even though I tried to liberate them several times, but in the end we were rewarded when we found Asian Bistro, and bento lunches at a very reasonable price, including, in  my case, miso soup:

Yeah, I know.  No fur, but I eat fish.  Neurological issues; it doesn’t seem safe not to.  (I’d like to note that it’s not easy escaping meat in Philadelphia, whether or not you consider that Cheesesteak sandwiches contain actual “meat”.)

Afterwards we caught the Phlash loop to the Philadelphia Museum of Art for a behind the scenes look at the textile collection.

Oh.  My.  We gasped and ooohed our way through a half-dozen garments.  This bodice is from one of the gowns; the flowers are paper, and the fringe is thread.  Carolyn was standing next to me, plotting how she was going to duplicate this amazing finery at home, so I’m counting on her to come up with her version ASAP.

The curator was very accommodating, turning edges and folding each garment so that we could get a really good look at the details.

I’m a local, so I went home at this point (I was up at 5 AM catching the train after only four hours sleep), but dinner at a pizza place near the hotel was included in the weekend fee.  Not pizza, it turned out, but a full-fledged Italian dinner,  with cannoli for dessert (be still, my heart!).

The next morning it was into the big yellow school bus (really!) for a trip to Philadelphia’s Fabric Row.  Lee had her hands full with 39 of us on the bus; she resorted to counting us, largely, I think, because the din was overwhelming, and there was no other way to make sure all the chickens were in the coup.

The driver looked as if he were flying gang colors what with the headgear and the pants, but he couldn’t have been nicer, and, although he got lost twice in New Jersey, he got us back on track quickly.

Philadelphia’s Fabric Row is a little thin if you’re used to NYC, but somehow it looked as if most of us found at least something to buy.  Lines were long at PA Fabric Outlet, where prices were seriously low, especially for lace, trims, buttons, and one of my favorite vices, tapestry-like wide trims.  This was probably the busiest Saturday in memory for them, but everybody managed just fine.

Lunch was on our own on Saturday, too; I ate early (breakfast had been at 5 AM)  at Moaz Falafel, but I won’t do that again.  As I was  munching at the front counter, a guy in a filthy white van pulled up and honked.  A Moaz employee came out of the restaurant,  threw open the sliding door and dragged a huge plastic container — just like the ones I use for clothes storage — across the (dirty, dirty) empty van floor.  Then he replaced the lid, which had apparently popped off while the van was in transit.

The container, obviously not food-grade or anything close to it,  was full of the cilantro sauce I had just put on my falafel.  Swipes someone had obviously made with a cloth or sponge were clearly visible inside the top half of the container.   My falafel was a little gritty; now I didn’t want to think about why.   The employee shot me a very worried look (I was alone at the counter), as well he should have.  Gag.  No more Moaz for me.

Nonetheless, I lived to shop again.  Shudder.

We met back at the bus and headed for London Textiles across the bridge in New Jersey, which is where things got crazy.  London is a wholesale operation, so it’s like a large warehouse.  We were handed a price list, based on type of fabric, but what really got us mobilized were the last two lines:  wool or silk remnants $5/yard, all other remnants $3/yard, must take whole piece.  Remnants?  Must take whole piece?  Honey, take this box of Godiva, and you have to keep it ALL!

It looked as if the locusts had descended.  There were a half-dozen or so deep bins full of fabric, mostly from one to six yard pieces (that is to say, from $3 to $25 for the piece), everyone of them with a crowd of women ducking in and out, fishing for gold.  Some people were surprised to realize that the cost was per yard, not per piece, but this didn’t seem to discourage anyone, and I’d be surprised if anyone left without at least one remnant.  Volume in the bins was noticeably down by the time we left, but there were beautiful silks, linens and cottons from rolls flying out the door too.

No pictures.  That would have required focus that I just couldn’t muster.  Also, I was climbing into the remnant bins along with everyone else.  I was busy.

Thence to Jomar, kind of a Philadelphia sewing institution, and one upon which many of us are heavily dependent.

On the website, it’s the Swanson store, but it’s on Jackson Street, a few blocks behind IKEA, over by the water.  Jomar stores sell huge quantities of junk liquidated goods, but each store also has a huge (and widely varying) selection of cheap, cheap, cheap yard goods.  You name it, Jomar has it:  everything from the most coarse burlap to filmy designer silks to home dec.  Mimi, a PR volunteer, told me that Jomar started out selling returns from places like Garfinckel’s, the venerable Washington department store.  That merchandise would be several hundred grades above what’s currently sold on the first floors, but there are  amazing finds to be had upstairs at any Jomar if sewing is what you have in mind.

Jomar is notorious for very slow service at the cutting tables (if you go, consider a weekday during business hours for best service), but they had been warned by the PR team, and they really rose to the occasion.  The staff was whipping through the cuts as if they were slicing butter.  Because we’d run a little late at London Textiles, we’d all chipped in a dollar to hold the bus for an extra hour, but if people were held up, it was because they couldn’t stop shopping, not because Jomar wasn’t on the ball.

Several of us had trains to catch, and couldn’t stay later, so our PR coordinators arranged with Connie and  Andrea for transportation back to the hotel or to the train.  It was great that everyone was so accommodating, and I was really pleased that I hadn’t had to skip the afternoon in order to get home when I needed to.  Sheila, Elizabeth and I had just enough time for a quick bit at Cosi at the 30th Street station before our trains.  (There was one last joke on the quasi-vegetarian — the Cosi guys accidentally served me a roast beef sandwich instead of my roasted veggie.  Just after I had determined that the portobello I was looking at had a strange texture, they came chortling up to make the switch.  I hadn’t taken a bite, and the veggie sandwich — way under 400 calories, was satisfying and delicious. (Salad, by the way, involved 1.5 times the calories.  Gotta love labels.)

What was the best part of a completely great weekend?  Seeing so many women wearing clothes they’d made themselves.  An amazing number of attendees wore their own creations, many of which I recognized from blogs.  It was so cool to see them in person!  Auntie Allyn’s dress looked great in her PR review, but was even more smashing on her.  (Vogue 8659, here I come, and may  you look 1/6 as good on me as you do on Allyn!),  Connie’s Vogue 1090 suits her to a tee, and I loved seeing Lee’s just-finished turquoise tunic.

Paula McP’s “happy pants”/linen top were so much fun, and her Asian jacket was gorgeous.  (She doesn’t have a sewing blog, so I lobbied for one.  She’s hiding treasures from us!) There were  so many wonderful garments, all of them great reflections of the women who made them, and a treat for the eyes — not to mention inspiration for the fingers.

The garment that took my breath away in its perfect simplicity, in part because it suited the wearer so perfectly?  Claudine’s linen dress with chevrons:

This picture doesn’t do it justice; you have to see it on Claudine to realize how perfectly it suits her.  (In fact, Claudine’s blog pictures don’t do her justice:  She’s always so serious.  In person she has a lovely smile, and is the soul of grace.)

Claudine embroiders.  Really, really well.  What you can’t see clearly on this dress (although there’s a close up on her blog, and a larger image available) are the beautifully worked and placed chevrons at the bodice and along the sides.  Meticulous work, and so perfect for the dress as well as on Claudine.

PR coordinators and volunteers Karen, Andrea, Lee, Kisha, Mimi, Annette and Elaine did a great job coordinating this first Philadelphia weekend, and rolling with the few bumps.  I especially appreciated the booklet we all received with bios, the itinerary, maps, and a list of the stores we visited (includinf contact information).  My only suggestion?  Make sure that everyone’s blog is included in her (and potentially his) bio, as well as their PR names.  I want to keep tabs on what all these creative people are doing!  (Prior to the weekend, I made up this list, but I’m sure I missed someone .  .  . )

Plash photo credit:  visitphilly.com

I see my shorthand got away with me:  This is a recap of a weekend in Philadelphia organized through Pattern Review, popularly known as “PR”.

Because I’m awful at keeping people straight, I’m reading all the blogs I can find that are written by those who have signed up.  It’s really exciting to see how varied the attendees are, in every way.  All kinds of sewing styles, abilities, and interests are represented — it’s going to be a fun couple of days!  Here’s the list of blogs I’ve captured, below, in no particular order.  Have I missed anyone?

anaminiac

Lindsay T Sews

Sweet Notions

Adventures in Couture

Sewing by the Seat of my Pants

When Ladies Dressed

Dressed to a “Tee”

Happy Sewing, Happy Knitting

Diary of a Sewing Fanatic

Curtain to Coats (Deepika’s blog; made invitation-only on 4/9/2010)

Miss Celie’s Pants

The Slapdash Sewist

Knit-Knac

Another Creation

Vacuuming the Lawn

FabriCate & Mira

Nancy K Sews

sewl sista #1

Capitol Sew and Sew

Couturesmith

Red’s Threads

The Mahogany Stylist

Mia’s Sewing Room

DD’s World

Sew Tawdry

La Cubanita Cose

Update — two blogs I didn’t catch earlier:

Shiela Crochetz Threadz & Knitz

Sew A Beginner

By the way, a note to Blogger bloggers:  Do you realize that you may be missing out on comments because of your settings?  If you don’t allow name/URL comments, and/or anonymous comments, people who don’t have (or who don’t want) Google IDs or Blogger IDs can’t contribute to your blog, or praise your work!  I often want to leave comments, but can’t because of the settings you’ve chosen.

Since many of you also don’t include any contact information, I can’t even let you know that I wanted to comment, but couldn’t.

By the way, a safe way to write an email address for contact purposes is to put it in your profile and write it out:  sewist [at] sewingblog [dot] com.  That makes it difficult  for spammers to collect your email in an automated fashion for their nefarious purposes.

Related:  A couple of geographically-related Noile posts — Organization, 1798 Style and Early Olfas and, also, Embellishments

Here’s what we were instructed to bring:

• Seed beads:  I got the tiniest black ones (in the envelopes to the right), but also containers of slightly larger beads in gold/brown/black tones and in green tones (the tubes on the upper left)

• Braid (chain-stitched) trims: I choose ivory, black, and a less loopy one in camel

• Rattail cord in green, copper, taupe, off-white (and black, not shown) I think we only  needed one color, but I thought I’d like to be able to choose once I’m working, especially since my colors are more “basic” than “flash”

• Bugle beads (cylindrical beads) (package in the lower right corner)

• Piece of background fabric (not shown; mine’s off-white dupioni silk)

• Felt for backing (not shown; mine’s black)

We’ve also been instructed to bring our scissors, thread, pins (normal sewing supplies), no. 10 beading needles, and a pointed sacking needle, none of which I photographed because they’re just part of my basic tool kit.

I can’t see myself wearing garments decorated with these lovely things, but I can imagine that this kind of decorative art might be  pretty cool for cushions, bags, album covers, tops of boxes, on cards (on paper or on stiffened fabric), or even as a (removable) decorative brooch for a flamboyant evening.  Will I be able to find my inner artist?  We’ll know soon  .  .  .

Now, I agree with Lsa’s main point — even I have to admit that these stupendous, wonderful, incredibly comfortable foot-coddlers are NOT  fashion-forward.  BUT I feel compelled to rise to their defense (I’ve done it before, though with a different focus).  If you like having bare feet, you’ll probably love these things — it’s bare foot without any of the drawbacks.

So what do you think?  If Vibram made them transparent (so that they were essentially visible), could we wear them with real clothes and mainstream them into our fashion consciousness?  I’m  just suggesting .  .  .

Related:  Five Fingers for the Feet

Peter, of Male Pattern Boldness, has offered a challenge to his readers.  Answer one of three questions, and be considered to win a set of Glamour Girl paper dolls.  I don’t normally do these things, but I was so prepared for this one.  You’ll have to check out Peter’s blog to see why.  (Check the comments on this post, if you’re curious.)

The one I wanted most was Marcy Tilton’s new pants pattern, Vogue 8561:

I love the kooky shape of the legs, but I have a couple of concerns. First, it’s never a good sign when a pattern company can’t get the pants to look as if they fit the model. In both Vogue photos (this one, and the one in the pattern catalog on a human model), if you look closely, it’s clear that the crotch doesn’t quite work. So I’m expecting some fit issues here. Other Tilton patterns I’ve used have been huge, so it will be interesting to work with one that looks much trimmer. I think I may make a couple of modifications, too, but later for those . . .

In the wake of my disappointment with the neck finish on Vogue 8536, this top looks pretty good to me, so I picked it up, too:

It’s a Sandra Betzina, Vogue 8151.

So much for the practical stuff. The next two patterns are the stuff of fantasy. First, the much-noted Donna Karan, Vogue 1088:

Could I carry this off? Well, probably not — but a girl can dream, can’t she? I’m using it for exercise inspiration. Arms in this dress had better be buff!

And then there’s this one, Vogue 1094:

In Vogue’s new pattern book, it’s made up in black and white gingham. Yeah, I fell, and I fell hard. This means that not only the arms and shoulders need to be buff, but the waist needs to be very, very trim. No belt to help fake it. I have my work cut out for me — or, alternatively, I’ve got a really good fantasy going here!

The fifth one was Vogue 8485, specifically view C (with the bamboo handles):

I want to wear dresses (well, maybe not the two above, but dresses in general) this summer. I’m going to need a generic bag that is industrial-sized, but will still look good with a variety of frocks. So I’m planning to make this one in black linen. I’ll almost certainly lose the bamboo handles (ouch!), so I need to do some thinking about what would work instead. This view has a shoulder strap, too. It’s practical, but not obvious. I like that.

Source:

Fail Blog

We’ll ignore Stinkhead’s assumption that only Daddy reads the newspaper, especially since both Daddy and Mommy get their news on the Internet these days. Also, because, although he figures only Mommies will sew the book, he actually does it himself in the video. Be that all as it may, this is one cool project, and Stinkhead’s graphics are way much cooler than the New York Times’.

Via Daddytypes