Archive for the 'Tops' Category

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Polo-Palooza!

Published on December 18, 2010 in Tips and Tops. 5 Comments

I finished a whole slew of my very favorite fall/winter tops just before taking a recent trip. These are polos (those of us in the USA would probably call them “turtlenecks”) from BurdaStyle’s 09/2010 issue, pattern number 121:

They’re all made in some variation of JoAnn’s silky polyester/rayon knit, which has the distinction of being the only fabric I’ve bought at JoAnn’s that hasn’t had some unfortunate issue. (The only issue with these cuts was the careless chopping done by the sales person at the cutting table, but that’s for another day.) These tops weigh nothing, and roll up so compactly that I could have packed ten of them if I’d wanted to! The colors are deep and rich, and the fabric’s very nice to wear — perfect for everyday or traveling, all-around.

I used my new serger to add stabilizing tape, about six inches of it, to each shoulder seam. There’s a slot in the presser foot that perfectly feeds 1/4 inch twill tape under the foot so that it’s sewed automatically into the seam. This process could not have been easier. Whoo-hoo!

Summerset Banks has a fantastic (and illustrated!) explanation of a great finish for this collar, and I used it on each of these shirts. Check it out if you’re making this pattern; you’ll be glad you did.

Summerset also suggests tagging the back of the shirt, which is good advice, since it’s almost impossible to tell the fronts from backs at first glance. She uses a little bit of folded ribbon, but I dislike tags, so I just added a short, white, line of zigzag stitches. I can spot these easily inside the tops.

This assembly line was also a chance to use one of my ancillary presser feet: Pfaff’s “seam guide foot with IDT”, which made short work of my hems. It’s got a small blade-like edge on one side, and seam allowance markings all along the very wide foot:

I wouldn’t call this exactly a necessary accessory, but it really is an incredibly efficient way to keep my hem stitches the same precise distance away from the edges. When whipping out multiple items as rapidly as possible, this is a great advantage. If things get too rote, my mind tends to go numb; this is an antidote to forgetting exactly where I should be stitching that hem.

Related: Burda “Polo” #121 09/2010

Felted Wool Tunic/Vest

Published on November 16, 2010 in Jackets and Tops. 3 Comments

Thanks to Shams, I’ve been introduced to the wonderful world of Fawbush’s, where I saw this marvelous vest from Angel:

Here’s the description:

Since 1985 Angel has been providing customers with unique, fashionable, high quality womens apparel. Their garments are produced in Turkey using the finest Italian yarns. We love the drape and classic styling of this versatile piece. It features a no closure front, a double collar and embellished pockets.

Nice! — but this is knit, and I wanted something woven. And I’m not nuts about that upper collar; it’s just not a look I’m wild about. Clearly, I needed to make my own.

What material to use? Felted wool seemed like the best answer, as I wanted to keep the vest as simple as possible, and didn’t want to mess with wither the weight or angst of facings. I decided to make a muslin of regular old felt, just to get a feel for sizing, etc., so I trotted down to the local “fabric” store and bought the only felt yardage they had — made from recycled soda bottles (and boy, could you tell!). Here’s what I worked up:

I really liked the look of this! I finished all the edges in woolly nylon, and my only regret was that I’d made it in such an awful fabric. Since I was about to leave on a long trip, I began to dream about how nice it might be to wrap up in a boiled wool vest on a chilly plane . . . but I had only a day or two before the trip, and no time to find nice wool, boiled or not.

There’s an overstock store near us, though, and through energetic ferreting, I was able to find two 100% wool throws for a pittance. I tossed them into the washing machine and dryer, several times over, and ended up with enough wool to replicate my vest in something with a much nicer hand:

I didn’t, and don’t, like this version as much, though. The fabric was thicker, so that the pocket shape isn’t as pronounced (the stitching doesn’t take up enough of the fabric, so the pockets are larger, less rectangular, and “poufier”). Of course, I couldn’t match the burgundy in woolly nylon, so I had to use a pewter/black instead — it’s OK, but not as nice as I’d like.

This version needed something: some kind of closure. I showed it to Mr. Noile and was debating the various options. I was leaning toward magnets, but debating how I’d keep the stitches from showing on the “right” side. A non-functional button, sewn over the magnet,seemed to be the right answer.

Mr. Noile looked thoughtful for a moment, and then suggested attaching magnets directly to the button(s). He pointed out that this would let me change the button configuration any time I pleased. Brilliant!

So I got out the hot glue gun and attached magnets to buttons, resulting in this, the smock vest:

and this, the one-button close:

and this, the loden version:

and this, the two-button-with-collar styling:

and this, the pocket variation:

This was all very well and good (and a lot of fun!), but overall this project was not a success. First, because this kind of vest is not best suited to a small person with a large bust, and secondly because somehow that lovely burgundy boiled wool just looks a little becky-home-ecky compared to the more sophisticated-seeming gray flat felt. I really, really prefer my gray felt version, but the fabric’s just too awful to wear. Sad.

Not to mention that woolly nylon was not the right edging. It snags and pulls on everything. Though I should note that the boiled wool itself is heavenly to wear; it’s both warm and light, and feels incredibly natural on the torso!

Neither version really captures the longer, leaner look of the original (or the better drape!), and, in the end, I’ve got something quite different. After all, that’s what “inspiration” is all about, rather than “copying”; I love the way this morphed into something else. This exercise was a lot of fun, and I’ll have to continue to experiment like this in the future.

I made a tiny pocket hidden in the large pockets to hold the buttons when they’re not in use. That was a good move, and would have been especially useful if I’d actually worn it on a plane. Which I didn’t, because anything I take on a plane has to have many uses over the course of the trip. A long vest just wasn’t minimalist enough for me in the end. But it was a lot of fun playing with the idea!

Burda “Polo” #121 09/2010

Published on October 26, 2010 in Tops. 3 Comments

I’ve been dying to make the “trench jacket” from Burda’s 04/2008 issue since I first saw it on Cidell’s blog. After snagging that issue in Hungary, I was all gung-ho until it occurred to me that I’d never made a pattern from a Burda periodical, much less one written in Hungarian. (I have traced patterns before, and made things from Japanese pattern books, but let’s just say that Japanese is a lot easier than Hungarian. Truly.)

Then I saw Dawn’s post about the “polo” #121 from BurdaStyle’s 09/2010 issue. Bingo! I love this top: It’s got only three pattern pieces, and it’s so simple that directions are essentially irrelevant. Here’s one Burda version, from their site:

There’s a 121a version and a 121b version. I’ not sure what the difference is; the technical drawing in the magazine suggests it’s the length of the body, but on Burda’s website the lengths for the two versions look the same. That’s probably another little detail I missed because of the language issue. Such things aside, this top is incredibly easy and fast to make — perfect for starting out.

I ended up making three:

The green one on the left is JoMar mystery fabric (could it really be nylon?? nobody makes knits from nylon any more, do they?) that I got specifically for knit “muslins”. The print is a super-over priced JoAnn poly-spandex knit bought at 50% off, and the teal is a JoAnn rayon/spandex, similarly over-priced, and also bought at 50% off — but this fabric drapes very nicely and is a dream to wear.

I cut a Burda 40 at the bust (and below, because it just didn’t matter in this style), but a 38 in the shoulders. Now that I’ve worn these tops, I realize they’re a little too blousy in the body., so I’ll tweak that for the next batch. And I may need a 36 in the shoulders. Live and learn.

The sleeves are super-long, as Karen notes, but, as you can see in the technical drawing, it’s intentional. They’re meant to be scrunched up.

I like that look — they’re still slim-fitting, but a little more interesting than plain sleeves. Karen commented on the Burda instructions for turning the collar under — I couldn’t quite figure out what she meant, but I decided to simply hem the collar edges, and wear it scrunched, too. In these soft fabrics, it feels nice, and I like the way wearing it scrunched echoes the sleeves.

I’ve only got one picture of this shirt on my body so far. My photographer, Mr. Noile, appeared to become ill while regarding this particular version, and muttered something about “granny print” and “singularly ill-advised”. I may add other photos later, but feared to tax my beloved further today.

I had a LOT of trouble with this fabric, and never found a needle that liked it, though my collection is extensive. And it’s got the usual JoAnn issue: every puncture mark leaves a little white hole, presumably because the dye-job is too inadequate (or too cheap) to survive even the mildest needle-tampering. Love the colors, though, except the white.

I’ll be sending this one to the charity shop, as I think it unlikely that I’ll be able to wear it in peace in the future. I do hate to see Mr. Noile suffer! (The photo’s a little bleary; perhaps that’s what caused Mr. N’s nausea?) Swapped the photo out for a less-blurry one; Mr. Noile is not appeased. The fit of this version is best through the shoulders; maybe because this fabric stretches hardly at all?

Here’s the JoMar ribby-knit:

Love the sheen from the flash. This is a really stretchy knit; you get the full effect in the scrunchy sleeves.

I need styling help, don’t I? Can you tell how much I’m into the construction, not the fashion? As if to prove the point, here’s the teal version:

The shoulders are waaay too wide on this one; this soft, drapey knit probably needed stabilizing alaong the shoulder seams. And this is the fabric that called for a more body-fitting silhouette; the trunk kind of just hangs. I only wear it tucked in , so it probably doesn’t matter, but I’ll fix this in future iterations.

It was a great idea to start my Burda life with this pattern. I’ve gone through the steps now, I know what to expect all along the way, and I’ve got a good idea of how Burda fit will work for me (at least sometimes) in knits. I’m taking another trip soon, but when I return I’ll be tackling that vest. I can’t wait. In the meantime, I’ll be taking these three tops with me on this most recent trip — it was a quick and easy job to whip them up in the week between Budapest and the next (domestic) excursion.

Dawn also posted about this pattern here, and mentioned Karen’s post so I checked it out, too. And Cidell’s made one now, too. I think Burda has a hit on their hands.

Vogue 8151 – Darted Tee

Published on September 14, 2010 in Tops. 6 Comments

I’ve never been a big fan of Sandra Betzina’s patterns; they seem a little, just slightly, on the matronly side. Really nice patterns, if you were inclined that way, but, I don’t know, blocky maybe? Maybe kind of matronly? And I’ve always thought this had something to do with the “Today’s Fit” sizing, which I read as being for bigger, more “mature” women.

Well, whether or not the rest of me is following, my bust seems to have joined the “bigger, more mature” category. I’m having fit issues, so, Sandra, here I come! I still can’t get my head around the style issues, but I’m looking for a tee I can live with, so I started with this Betzina tee:

The one one the right. Yep, a tee shirt with a dart. It’s come to this . . .

This poor thing’s been through a hard day, and my pose is wonky, so please forgive both of us for looking so, well, ratty. This pattern comes in Betzina’s A, B, C sizing. I cut a size C, except in the shoulders, where I cut an A. (Betzina’s Today’s Sizing has a bust size similar to Vogue, but a much larger waist, and a larger hip. Only the bust size was relevant for my top, of course.)

We’re not going to discuss the fact that my bust is asymmetrical, and that I’m not going to wear the kind of armor that would correct this normal, human issue. Suffice to say, the darts are symmetrical, even if I’m not. It does look as if there’s a little bit of pulling across the chest, though, so I need to address that. My bust is one inch larger than the C size, so, in this case, I guess I should have trusted Vogue sizing.

I dropped the bust dart by 1.5 inches, to accommodate my real bust, and shortened the dart by .5 inch, so it didn’t run across the front of my chest. I also lengthened the top by one inch, and took .25 inch out of each side of the back neck to conform to my shape there. (I remembered to alter the neckband to accommodate that change; that’s a critical step.)

The dart placement is just right, though there’s a little pulling at the lower front of the armhole. Is that fit, or the result of my bizarre, chicken-wings pose??? I haven’t gotten this “modeling garments” thing down yet.

The back is fine, but someday I really am going to have to address the swayback issues.

Other reviewers have noted that these sleeves are tight; they are, but I like this fit. I think most people wouldn’t, and if I were actually as big everywhere as Betzina’s size C, these sleeves wouldn’t work on me.

So, does it make sense to wear a tee shirt with darts to accommodate a larger bust? I kind of think maybe it does. If I buy RTW tee shirts that fit my bust, I’m swimming in the rest of the shirt, because the rest of me just isn’t that big. I’d rather feel relaxed in a tee shirt than slobby, so maybe this is a better choice. Interestingly, I really liked wearing this shirt — it felt like clothes, not like a sack I’d pulled on, but was still just as easy-to-wear as any old tee.

Incidentally, I cut this shirt from a heavyweight Fruit of the Loom men’s tee. Ever noticed what great colors men’s tees come in these days? Much nicer than the pastel, icky women’s shades. And the fabric, while nothing to write home about, is about 1000% nicer than cotton knits at JoAnn’s. Lots cheaper, also, even if you need two.

Simplicity 5502 – Chevrons

Published on September 9, 2010 in Tops. 9 Comments

This is about a 45 minute top — there’s nothing to it really, so whipping one up is really no problem. I love stripes, though, and that makes all the difference. Twenty minutes to sew, and a lifetime to match the stripes:

I weigh 121 pounds in these pictures, but I look like a linebacker. Let this be a lesson to you: Stripes are not your friend. I don’t care, though, because I love the thrill of matching them up. I cut a size 12, which Simplicity calls a 34 bust. Right. Mine is 37, and I’ve got plenty of room in this top. What is wrong with these people?

See those folds next to my bust? That’s where darts should be. Or at least, it’s where you’d put a dart if the sleeve weren’t a dolman. But, gee, it’s a tee-shirt! Who wants structure in a tee-shirt? (The next knit shirt I make is going to have darts, though. I need to know if I can live with a dart-fitted tee. And find out if a fitted tee is actually a good idea. )

I made view F, with longer sleeves and the v-neck:

Here’s the back, also not flattering and in need of some serious swayback help:

This is just a knock-around tee, so I’m not too concerned about these issues. It’s comfortable, and easy to wear. The sleeves are cut all-in-one with the bodice (there are just two pattern pieces), and that’s not really a slimming look, either, especially if, like me, you’re a little bustier than your size would suggest.

The sleeves are perfect on me, which means that they may be a little on the short side for someone with longer arms. The pattern envelope doesn’t say that they are 3/4ths length, but I’ll bet that’s what they are on a taller woman. I suspect that Simplicity skimped because this diagonal design uses a lot of fabric; longer sleeves might mean a more contorted cutting layout. It’s odd that they don’t mention that the sleeves are short though.

The instructions have you just turn and stitch the raw edges. That’s what I did for the hem and sleeves, but I bound the neckline with bias tape to stabilize it and give it a nicer finish. I really prefer to make a facing on a v-neck top like this; if I make it again, I’ll draft one and do that instead. I added two inches to the hem; that’s great for tucking it in, but it’s really more than I needed. An inch would have been fine.

The chevrons turned out well. I matched them everywhere — center front and back; side seams; and shoulder/sleeve seams. I love this stuff. It makes my geeky heart sing.

I’ve documented my frustrations with knit hems before, but this time I tried something new I read about somewhere. (Can’t remember where, unfortunately.) I used wooly nylon in the bobbin, winding it loosely and gently by hand. Then I did the topstitching with a double needle. The result was smooth and beautiful, inside and out.

Matching stripes isn’t difficult at all; it just takes care and patience. The trick is to cut each garment piece as precisely as possible. There are several ways to do this. It’s important to cut each piece individually, making sure that each obvious line matches up with its mate on the seamline. It’s not actually the edge that you care about; it’s where the seam falls that matters.

When I sewed with plaids, I’d actually draw the major lines of the plaid onto the pattern pieces so that I could match them perfectly when I reversed the tissue pattern to cut a corresponding left, right, front or back piece. Stripes are easier. You can draw them, too, on your pattern tissue, but another, faster method, is simply to turn your cut piece over with the tissue still attached, align the stripes perfectly, and then cut the second piece out.

I’m a killer at pin basting; I hate to baste anything with thread, and over the years I’ve become very proficient at using pins to hold my unsewn garment together under the needle. But for perfect alignment, I pin stripes first, and then baste. When the margins are so small, you really don’t want a stray pin shifting even a thread or two as you sew.

I think Mr. Noile isn’t a big fan of this one. When I took it in to show him, he rolled his eyes and said it reminded him of this:

Then he beckoned me to step closer to the screen, so that I could fully experience instant vertigo. I think he’s trying to tell me something.

Image source: http://i.imgur.com/0bXCJ.jpg (If anyone knows the original source, please let me know.)

Dorothy, in the comments below, suggests that this may be from this link (see “Impossible-figure rotating snakes 2″ and prepare for extreme eye agony if you follow the link!)

Vogue 7997: The Real Thing

Published on May 10, 2010 in Tops. 2 Comments

I recently made a “muslin” of this top, which you can read about here. (When you click, the new post will look the same, but if you scroll down, you’ll see it’s not.) This post is about the “real” top, which is based on Vogue 7997:

Vogue uses elastic to gather the sides of both the shirt body and the collar, but I eliminated that step. I wanted to be able to bunch up or stretch the body length according to my mood, and using elastic in the cowl sides would have prevented me from using my modifications as I planned to. Here’s my finished shirt, in a cotton/lycra blend, with my (modified) collar arranged a little differently from Vogue’s illustration:

Along with eliminating the elastic, I made a few other modificationa. To recap a bit from my previous post, what I wanted was a top similar to this one (below), made by Coutourwear (more information about it on that earlier post):

I altered the Vogue collar, making it 16 inches longer than the one in the pattern, which lets me wear it in a bunch of different ways, including as a hoodie. Here are a couple of neckline variations:

With the cowl crumpled, up almost like a wide, scrunchy turtleneck:

And the hoodie version (it’s a little surreal; my duct tape dummy doesn’t have a head, so I improvised):

My version can also be worn completely off the shoulder, just like the Vogue pattern, but apparently I failed to photograph it that way. (There’s a good picture of how it looks on that earlier post, though, in sage green. Link below and in the text above.) I may add a photo of it arranged later, but wrestling this skinny, stretchy top onto my dummy is no small job.

The biggest change I made to the pattern, other than the collar? I added straps:

I love the bare-shoulder look, but I’m not a slight adorable 22-year-old ingénue, and no way I am suffering through wearing a strapless bra under a soft, comfy shirt. The visible bra straps had to go.

I also added thumb openings to the extra-long sleeves. These little “catches” are featured on a lot of contemporary sports/hiking/travel wear. The thumb openings keep the sleeves in place over my hands in cool weather:

I don’t know if the Contourwear top has these; there’s no detail about it at all on the site. (I’ve got a microfleece zip hoodie from another company that has them.) I thought they were silly when I bought the fleece — wouldn’t I just use gloves? But, to my surprise, I often pull the sleeves down over my hands in weather that’s a little too warm for gloves, but too cold for bare hands. They’re perfect for a top that can go from bare-shouldered to fully covered in ten seconds.

The sleeves on my version can be scrunched up to 3/4ths length, or they can cover my hands. (The Vogue sleeves are already extra-long on me; if you want the thumb-catch feature, you may need to lengthen the pattern piece.)

End of pattern review. Less-relevant rant follows:

Countourwear in general is well worth a look. If you have the budget, check out their AnyWear travel wardrobe; you’ll be amazed at how much you could get into a small suitcase. This is not your grandma’s travel wardrobe! Be prepared to suffer, though. The website is pretty to look at, however it has minimal information, and is a pain to navigate. There are absolutely no detailed descriptions for any of their garments, for example. (As if I’m going to buy ANYTHING for these prices, sight unseen, without knowing a lot more than how it looks in a single commercial photo!)

There’s nowhere you can view their whole product line — you have to pick by fiber category. What’s up with that??? Just to make things worse, there’s no search function (!). Good luck finding their hoodie — or anything else. It took me forever because, for some strange reason, I couldn’t remember what it was made of. (Why would I???) I had to scroll through each garment, under each fiber menu, until I found it. And no, I still don’t remember what it’s made of.

Previously: Vogue 7997: “Muslin” Version

Vogue 7997: “Muslin” Version

Published on May 6, 2010 in Tops. 0 Comments

It’s an off-the-shoulder tee (essentially), sleeveless, with 3/4ths sleeves, or with long sleeves:

This one turned out to be a genuine muslin. I’m never going to finish it! Even so, I’m very, very happy with it:

Yeah, my collar’s completely different. That’s because the Vogue collar isn’t wide enough to gather at the sides as shown in the pattern. Or at least it didn’t work at all in my rayon/spandex knit. It just lay there, limpishly, looking kind of cheap. If you really want the look of the collar on the pattern envelope, I’d recommend cutting it at least 50% deeper so that there’s something to gather, and some substance to the thing.

However, I said I’m happy! Here’s why: Ever since I first saw Countourwear’s hoodie, I’ve wanted it. Making this pattern was the first step toward recreating this:

The point of the exaggerated hood is versatility. It can be a hood; it can be a cowl worn backwards or forwards; it can be an over-sized, off-the-shoulder “cuff”; it can rest around the neck like a loopy, over-sized turtleneck. All things to all women!

But I wanted it to fit me just the way I preferred, and that meant making it myself. (Not to mention that it’s no longer available at Countourwear.) Wrong! A new version is available; it’s just impossible to find anything on their website. Not to mention that you don’t get even the slightest hint of how versatile this top is from anything on the current website. Here’s the hoodie available now (I can’t link directly to their current page, thanks to their really dumb web design):

The princess seams are a really, really nice touch that the original didn’t have. Mine doesn’t have them either, but that’s OK; it’s exactly what I wanted. I made my “muslin” version with three-quarters length sleeves:

When the Vogue collar on my muslin flopped, I drafted the collar I really wanted — it’s just an extended version of the old one. Really extended — it’s 16 inches longer. I just grafted on the extension for this practice run; that’s the ugly serged seam you can see in each picture. When I added the new cowl, I sewed it onto the shirt opposite to Vogue’s instructions. Attaching the collar right side to right side means that the finished seams show when I’m wearing this as a hoodie. Here’s the hood, in the draped configuration, in back:

The collar piecing is ugly — that’s why I’ll never finish it — but later in the week I’ll be making the real top. Size-wise, I cut a 10 everywhere but the bust, where I enlarged it to a 12. This quasi-FBA works well for me with the right knit. I did use thin twill tape to stabilize the back of the neck from shoulder seam to shoulder seam to keep it from stretching; the fit there was nice, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Vogue calls for elastic in the side seams as well as the collar, to make the top look gathered, but I wanted to control the look each time I wear it, and liked the top extra long, so I skipped that step.

Related – Vogue 7997: The Real Thing

Vogue 8657, Judi Dench, and Me

Published on April 22, 2010 in Tops. 4 Comments

OK, so there are several problems here. The first is what I have in common with Judi Dench. Dame Dench has been quoted as having said (either to Charlie Rose or to USA Today, I can’t seem to track it down):

In my mind’s eye I’m 6 feet tall and slender as a willow, and I’ll go through life like that.

She is five feet, one and three-quarters inches tall (156.8 cm). I am five two and a half (158.8 cm). Not unlike Judi Dench, in my mind’s eye I am six feet tall (182.9 cm) and a Swedish Amazon. This is possibly why I am drawn to patterns like Vogue 8657:

See those proportions? I’m not sure any human possesses them, but I can tell you, definitively, that no person of approximately five feet, two inches does. But if I were six feet tall . . .

And then there’s the question of my bust. It is not the bust of my youth; without going into too much detail, it is not even the bust of my early 30s. I am still essentially proportionate — for a person five-two, not for an Amazon — but my bust has become round. And bigger. Substantially bigger.

Don’t get me wrong. I like my body. It’s the only one I have, and, really, I’m fine with it. But I’m a little confused about how to clothe it if I’m not wearing t-shirts and jeans.

One recent pattern works pretty well, and I think I know why. It has a long skirt with a lot of character, and what you see are proportions created by the dress. It’s an illusion; it’s not me. (But I like it!) Vogue 8657 achieves no such sleight.

So here it is:

It turned out fine, in the sense that it fits. I cut a 10 everywhere but the bust, but it’s borderline too large, and if I keep losing weight, I’ll have to move down to an 8. I cut a 12 in the bust, and moved the darts down a little less than an inch because . . well, you know why.

You probably noticed right away that the proportions of this top have nothing to do with the elongated version in the illustration. My top — the real one — is squarish, not an attractive rectangle. Not the attractive rectangle that would lengthen the appearance of the body, for example.

And there’s another problem: When you put a largish, roundish bust into a squarish, boxy-ish blouse, you get . . . formidable. In this case, not formidable as in “awesome”, but as in “bust like the superstructure of a battleship”. On a dinghy-sized rowboat.

So the envelope fails to illustrate the top accurately in terms of aspect ratio. And that lovely drape sketched so nicely by Vogue? Well, the back of the envelope fails to mention that this top is entirely self-lined. I used an extremely light — almost handkerchief light — rayon blend. Doubled, it folds; it does not drape. If you want flow, you’ll need to use the thinnest silk you can find, or chiffon. Or change the construction completely by not lining it.

Other issues: There’s a long buttonhole, through which the sash threads. For some reason, it’s placed above the waist. Which means, in my case, that my waist would get completely lost, and my bust would have a tie more-or-less right under it. Not good. I lowered it.

Also, if you use the spot Vogue appear to have marked for placing the single snap, you won’t be able to use the sash, because the snap is right smack in the way. What’s up with that?

The buttonhole foot on my main machine won’t make a buttonhole as long as this one needs to be. (I could do it with the machine, guiding it manually, but I’m not that brave reckless.) This blouse wasn’t “bound-buttonhole-worthy”, so I just faced the two buttonholes (one in the main fabric, one in the lining), basted them together once the blouse was done, and then edgestitched all around.

I might wear it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be resigned to how I look in it. It’s back to the drawing board for me, style-wise. Grrr.

Vogue 8536 – It’s a Wadder!

Published on January 29, 2009 in Tops. 3 Comments

Oh, dear. Knits and I are just not getting along. Today’s failure is this top from Vogue Basic Design:

I made view D (the vee-neck), with the 3/4ths sleeve length from view B. In theory, this shirt is almost exactly what I’d choose for everyday wear. But alas, it was not to be. It’s mostly my fault, too, though, although I really, really do not like the neck band.

wdrnk-2001

It’s too narrow, and makes me think of neck trim on cheap clothing. (And it doesn’t help that I muffed my stitching slightly in front, either!)

The sides end in slits, which I thought I’d like, but seem sort of bleah to me now that I’ve made the top. If I try this again, I’ll just sew the seams all the way to the hem.

Although the shoulders seemed to be fine on my dummy, they’re not right on me at all. (I know I’m overdue for replacing my dummy; those duct tape shells don’t last forever, and mine is definitely showing signs of disfigurement, not to mention that I’m a bit re-configured myself!) I need to take the shoulders in by a full half inch on each side to get the fit I want.

On the plus side, the body is cut nicely, and I love the extra ease at the side bust, which don’t show, but acknowledge that a little more accommodation is needed in that area. I think may be what Betzina calls “today’s fit”. I’m guessing that “today” means “you don’t have the bust you did when you were 20!”)

Which brings us to my nemesis: hemming knits. After considerable experimentation, including using iron-ons for support, varying stitch lengths, fiddling with basting methods, etc., I tried two other methods for this top. They worked great on my sample pieces; on my top, not so much.

For the sleeve hems, I used twill tape under the cut edge of the fabric, basting it in place to keep the knit from stretching. (How desperate can you get??) Then I used a 6.0 double needle for the stitching. That worked pretty well, but not perfectly. I ended up with a slight tunneling effect that I wasn’t able to get rid of while still keeping enough tension in the thread.

wdrslv-300

It looks a little like trapunto, and I kind of like it. After experimenting some more, I did the hem without the twill tape, but with careful basting. All looked well under the machine foot, but I noticed that I was getting a few skipped stitches. My new needle wasn’t the cause, so, on a whim, I slowed the speed of my machine down to nothing, and that solved that problem.

Stretched out on my dummy, the hem doesn’t look awful (if you don’t mind that trapunto effect), but lying flat, the hem bubbles. It’s just not right. Mr. Noile suggested that I get a very long strip of knit remnant and then keep trying until I solve this vexing problem; I’m going to do it. Next try: bias iron interfacing with single rows of topstitching. What have I got to lose?

Good thing this was a muslin. Grrrr.

Shapes Plus One Tunic

Published on January 24, 2009 in Tops. 2 Comments

I’ve been looking for styles with easy shapes, ones that I can make from linen, and tops that will be cool and comfortable for summer. I’d been thinking about the Shapes Plus One Tunic (from Sewing Workshop) for a while, and Barbara V.’s PR review finally inspired me to make it. I’d wondered about the pattern, but decided that it was just too boxy to work for me. Then I saw Barbara’s photos (her dress looks fantastic!) and changed my mind and bought a length of a gauzy cotton-linen blend to make a muslin.

Cutting it out couldn’t have been simpler: This tunic is made from two, differently-sized rectangles. To sew it up, the side of one rectangle is offset on the other, creating a flange that drapes along the side of the finished top. (Barbara, by the way, removed this flange, and lengthened the tunic into a dress, giving it a somewhat different look.)

Although I’d marked stitching lines carefully, this simple step (attaching the two rectangles to each other) stumped me, and I had a lot of trouble visualizing exactly what I was supposed to do. (Maybe I haven’t been sewing enough lately?) The design is a little counter-intuitive, but, of course, that’s part of what I liked about it. Putting sticky notes on the right and wrong sides of my fabric (they were identical) would have been a really good move, and would have helped with the next step, which involves inverting the tunic and essentially sewing a tube.

The instructions call for a narrow turned hem which is stitched, turned and stitched again. This didn’t work for me, largely because I’d forgotten that I have two damaged fingers on my left hand, and just can’t manage such detailed work consistently any more. (That sounds ridiculous, but I prefer to think that it just means that I’ve adapted to an old injury so well that I’d forgotten all about it.)

The result was that I started off doing a narrow hem, and then realized that wasn’t going to be sustainable, and then switched to a different method — except that I didn’t think I could tear out the right seam (fabric too loosely woven and fragile; seam allowance too narrow). This meant that I ended up with a collar that has a narrow hem on the right side, and the edging I finally used everywhere else. Strangely, it doesn’t look nearly as odd as this sounds, so this won’t keep me from wearing it.

tncdtl-300

I ended up finishing the edges with a light buttonhole stitch, which, even though it sounds a little odd itself, worked out well. The collar and flange still drape, and it the top still shouldn’t disintegrate every time it’s washed.

In my lightweight cotton-linen, the collar stands up dramatically, which is kind of cool, but also definitely gives me the shoulder of a linebacker, at least on the left side. The drama value ranks with Aretha Franklin’s fantastic inaugural hat, which makes it fun, but also an attention-grabbing Statement. When the event calls for it, perfect! Otherwise, it’s a bit overpowering. And I think I’m with Barbara on the flange; it’s part of what defines the tunic, but it also just looks kind of irrelevant once the top’s made. It just sort of hangs there, lacking all of the caché of the pattern sketch. Theirs:

swtun

Mine:

The collar rests a bit awkwardly, too, probably because it’s just folded back above the horizontal shoulder stitching. The topstitching and the shoulder line are sort of battling it out, and neither one is winning. Here’s the back:

tncbk-200

All wrinkly; I know. The sewing room’s being rearranged, and I’m not willing to haul out the iron. Besides, this is how it will look after I’ve had it on for five minutes anyway. It doesn’t bother me; I love the look of wrinkled linen!

The pattern itself is fine; the markings are clear and accurate. Will I make it again? Well, probably not. I love the clever engineering, but somehow the results didn’t seem worth the all the bother trying to figure out if I was assembling it the way I was supposed to.

On the other hand, I learned something important about the way I chose patterns. I’m drawn to boxy, rectangular, “artsy”-type clothing. That’s seems to be because, somehow, I actually believe that I’m a blonde, lean, six-foot tall Swede, with a formidable presence and long, long legs.

If you met me in the flesh, those of you with a closer grip on reality would realize that I’m blonde all right (and always have been), but I’m also 5′2″, with who-knows-what-kind-of-presence, short legs and curvy little body even when I’m very thin. Ouch!

Really, I do much better with clothes that fit my shape, rather than depending on height and long legs for style. Now I just need to remember this moment of insight the next time I’m cruising for new duds!

Verdict: This pattern really didn’t work for me, but it’s probably (mostly!) not the fault of Shapes. (Do you think Barbara is a tall, elegant Swede? Her tunic looked great!)

Ann made an interesting variation by cutting the hem asymmetrically, which you can see on her blog. I think it works really well.

For an absolutely great Sewing Workshop pattern, see their Soho Coat. I love that coat!