Stitching Knits

Sewing clothing has always been a frustrating experience for me, largely because of fit. I'm your basic straight-up-and-down gal without much of a waist. It's that way whether I'm sleek or slightly plump. But sewing patterns never seemed to work for that body type...if the things fit my hips then they were too tight in my waist and if they fit my waist they'd balloon around my hips. (Except for shifts...anyone remember shifts? They were perfect for my body type.) My mom had some complicated methods for altering patterns that my math-phobic mind never let me grasp. So I quit sewing for many years, until my friend Anne taught me to quilt. It was perfect for me. I got to play with color and pattern and never had to worry about darts, set-in sleeves, or zippers.

But as time has gone by I've been intrigued by lots of kinds of sewing. And this weekend, I was brave enough to try sewing clothing again. I took a Sewing with Knits class at Home Ec Workshop with Alissa. There were five of us and it was fantastic...in four hours we all cut out and finished a long-sleeved t-shirt (and many people finished in less time). It was so satisfying, and I wore my shirt all the next day. Sorry not to have pictures, but I used a knit from Moda—a very springy turquoise and white dot from the City Weekend line by Oliver and S. It is so soft and cozy the color makes me think winter may eventually come to an end, something I've been doubting of late. And best of all, Alissa altered the pattern (a Burda pattern, I believe) for each of us in the class, so our shirts actually fit.

All this was exciting enough, but the new Stitch magazine has a fantastic article about sewing with knits, as well as some truly adorable patterns. I'm itching to try the Spiral Skirt. Check it out here. (The instructions are in the magazine.) And if this pattern isn't for you, seriously check out the issue, anyway. It's a real keeper, with explanations of great sewing techniques and tons of fantastic projects and patterns. I'm also seriously thinking about using my stash of Woolylady fabrics to do the cover pillow. And there's a Malka Dubrovsky freebie pattern here. How I love her work!

In addition, there are a couple of short articles by yours truly in the issue. One about Collecion Luna, a wonderful endeavor that seeks to preserve Guatemalan  textile traditions while provide a living for families, and another about the New Dress a Day blog, where Marissa creates a new frock each day from an old one (and it can't cost more than one dollar).

Yes, my name is mispelled in the bylines for these pieces...they had a new proofreader and as a former editor I know that these things happen. But they did get it right on the back page, where staffers and contributors were asked about their 2011 sewing resolutions. I said that one of my goals was to take more classes in the new year, and I'm pleased to say I did just that at Home Ec on Saturday.

Share the love

Just found out about this project Etsy is undertaking (and not for the first year, either). They're asking folks to create Valentines that they'll then distribute with meals provided by Citymeals on Wheels.

For suggestions about getting together with friends to create Valentines, guidelines for the cards, mailing information and more, click here. The only catch is that the cards need to be to Etsy by February 9. So gather some friends and get a heart on (sorry, that was very, very bad).

For inspiration, visit Blah to Tada, who's already repurposed some bits and bobs to create a wonderfully diverse assortment of cheery cards.

And this would be a great project to take to your local Meals on Wheels program for Valentine's Day 2012! (Two years ago the Old Capitol Quilter's Guild stitched holiday placemats that were delivered with Meals on Wheels Christmas dinners—there are lots of potential variations on this theme.)

Collaborative quilting

I've joined a small group of interested quilters at Home Ec Workshop (Codi calls us Prelude to a Quilt Guild) and we've met a few times now. The group is fairly free-form and our stitching abilities range from newbie to very experienced. Sometimes we just talk about what we've been doing and sometimes we all decide on a small project that we work on between meetings and share the next time. Thus far, I hadn't managed to get any of the projects completed, but this last time I was inspired.

Each of us cut 64 squares of 5.5" background material (I used a print I've had for ages, everyone else picked solids), and 128 half-squre triangles, cut from squares that measured anywhere from 2.5" to 4.5". Then we threw all the half-square triangles in a big pile and plucked out the number we needed. It gave each of us an opportunity to use someone else's fabrics, which were often fabrics we wouldn't have chosen ourselves.

I sewed each block intentionally not color-matching the triangles (although I did often sew a large one and a small one to each background piece). Then I deviated from the original pattern (it's loosely based on Corner Store by Lynn Harris in Pretty Little Mini Quilts) in which the background blocks all faced the same direction (above), forming a kind of flat Star of David.

In a future post I'll share the finished quilt tops. Can't wait to see what everyone's come up with!

Pearl helped, of course.

Bib-elots

Okay, so maybe the headline is pushing it a bit. Calling bibs "bibelots" (Dictionary.com defines it as a small object of curiosity, beauty, or rarity) works on the "small" level, maybe not so much on the curiosity or rarity plane. But they can be beautiful, or at least fun and charming. And if the things we make don't add a bit of fun and pleasure to our day-to-day activities, then what the heck are we doing making them?

Sweet baby Sam

My good friend Sara had baby number three just before Christmas and I finally got to see (and hold) him yesterday. A total sweetie who obligingly made all his little baby faces, fussed and stretched, and then went to sleep on my shoulder.

Baby Sam's grandmother is a quilter extraordinaire, and a hand-quilter at that. I knew he was getting a very special quilt from her so my friend Sondra and I decided to sew some other items. Sadly, our schedules were such that we never managed to get together. So I made bibs.

Flannel backing on left and right bibs. (Pearl refused to stay out of the photo)

My favorites are the ones backed with flannel. (I made two like that earlier this fall, but gave them away before I got photos.) I figure flannel is softer when you want to wipe the baby's mouth off with the bib. I realize the rickrack will likely serve as a goo-catcher, but it's just too hard not to add a bit of embellishment. And I did put batting in these. I think the ones I made earlier didn't have batting. Not sure which is preferable. I have a friend who cuts up old towels and puts a layer in her bibs. I used Velcro for the fastener.

Any suggestions or tips on making bibs for babes? What's your favorite method or pattern?

Stellar Quilts

Apparently I'm on a video roll, because here's another one. Yes, it's definitely on the far side of bizarre. But the quilts represent an entirely different kind of modern quilting—non-linear, embellished, hand quilted with big stitching. Even though he claims he's from outer space, don't give up too soon...watch to the end to see the stellar quilt. His Etsy shop has more, if you're interested:

Bull Cozy

If for no other reason, watch this for the music and Olek's victory jump. And think of it the next time you decide a textile task is too big to take on!

Wow! It's 1-1-11!

Last night we had a lovely New Year's Eve dinner with our stranded daughter (in werewolf arms, at left). She was supposed to return to New York on the 26th, but as you likely have heard not too many flights made it that day. She was rescheduled for the 27th, went to the airport and was told to get on the plane to Chicago where her flight to Newark was promptly canceled. Rather than have her spend days on stand-by we brought her back home and she finally got a plane out at 7 a.m. this morning.

But back to our dinner last night.  I've never been a big fan of New Year's Eve—it often seems like a lot of forced conviviality—the last few years our bookgroup gathered and that was fun, but it didn't happen this year.

During our dinner conversation, Rebecca made the point that although New Year's celebrations can wreak of false gaiety, there is something enchanting about the idea of a clean slate and of getting to start all over. I had to agree. And to that end, I asked each of us to share some resolutions.

So here a three of my 2011 resolutions. Sometimes I think if you say them out loud you have to be a little more committed (or a little more wiling to be humiliated).

1. More exercise: Since I left my University editorial job for full time freelancing I've ceased my daily walk to work and back. It was just a bit over a mile each way, but it's quite apparent that the effect of that walk was significant. So I will be exercising more, whether it's on my treadmill in my basement (ick) or at a gym (ick to the time it takes to get there).

2. Sort writing priorities. This freelance life offers some challenges, trying to fit in various ongoing  projects while looking for more. I've got the potential for a couple of big ones on the horizon...the challenge will be figuring out what's worth doing and what's not.

3. Finding time to sew. I've had very few hours in my sewing room this fall and early winter. I miss it and I'm ready to return. First though, a little clean-up is required so that I can actually find my cutting table and sewing machine...they're both piled high with fabric, patterns, and magazines.

Okay, those are three of my big resolutions...how about you? Willing to share any in this semi-public forum?

Happy New Year!

SeaHope Partners

Thanks to an assignment from Stitch, I had the good fortune to come into contact with Margaret Jankowski, the founder of the Sewing Machine Project. Margaret is an amazing woman, someone who absolutely doesn't let adversity (or even her own self-admitted naivete) get in her way.

The Sewing Machine Project started when Margaret heard an Indonesian woman lament the loss of her sewing machine in the 2005 tsunami. Margaret, a lifelong sewer and sewing educator, could identify with a love of a sewing machine, but realized that for the Indonesian woman it also meant the loss of her livelihood. The loss so moved Margaret that she started gathering used machines in good condition to send to Indonesia. She quickly gathered 75 machines, but realized she had no idea how to transport them. Through a variety of connections she found someone to help, and the machines were sent to those who needed them. Since then she's sent machines to people in need around the world, asking only that the recipients "pay it forward" by teaching someone else to sew or sewing for others in need. After Hurricane Katrina her efforts focused on New Orleans, and to date she's created a partnership with AllBrands and has distributed more than 650 machines in that area. This is the story I wrote for Stitch (it's in the fall issue).

When the Gulf Oil spill occurred, Margaret again wanted to help. She formed SeaHope Partners, and I was able to share that story on an Etsy post that went up yesterday. Check out the bags that Margaret is creating, including the line she's creating with artists (and if you're interested in helping, you can get in contact with her through the Sewing Machine Project site). Margaret's efforts are full time and unpaid, but she's completely committed to doing the work she's begun and she's got more projects on the horizon (see the Etsy story for word on her upcoming efforts). 

I love that Margaret has found sewing to be the means to reach out and help. Sewing is pleasurable: it brings feelings of mastery (learning new skills and techniques), of inspiration (working with all those colors and patterns), of comfort (sewing for family and friends), of practicality and self-reliance (making something you could buy, and making it your own). But for most of us it's a hobby or at least a pursuit that we don't depend on to put food on the table. Margaret understood that sewing continues to put a roof over the heads of people around the world and has made it her mission to keep those folks stitching.

If you're puzzling over a great birthday present for a sewing friend, or even a way to honor a stitching friend who has died, consider a monetary gift to the Sewing Machine Project. It will help Margaret get donated sewing machines to areas of greatest need, to people who will love, use, and appreciate them.

(Photos courtesy of Margaret Jankowski)

Happy Holidays to You and Yours!

(I don't know about you, but I think these birds actually look a as though they're set on committing mob violence, rather than espousing cheerful holiday greetings.)

Many thanks for all your kind words and thoughts about our accident. Life is getting back to normal. I did finally buy a new (used) car and have even taken a road trip to Minnesota...a five hour drive for which I had to muster a little bit of courage. Fortunately all went well.

It's been a busy few weeks, between the car and the holidays. I've created a few things, but unfortunately none could be shown before Christmas and some have been mailed away without photos. I've also had a few assignments to complete and then there were those cookies to bake and a tree to decorate. I'm going to take the week off after Christmas and do some things around the house...including locating my cutting table under the mounds of fabric. We've had cold and snow and I'm feeling a real itch to quilt!

I hope you all have a restful holiday, with time for fun, friends, and family. Peace and love to you all.

Seeing the world while hanging from the ceiling...

A week ago today my husband and I had a car accident on our way to visit our daughter and her husband in Austin. It's a long story, but suffice it to say that I saw Oklahoma upside down. My husband avoided a car spinning out of control in front of us, but in doing so was forced to drive off the shoulder of I-35 and down into a ditch. We were doing pretty well until the wheel of the car hit a concrete culvert at the bottom of the ditch, the axle bent, the car spun around and rolled upside down. When we stopped moving we were hanging from our seat belts, completely unharmed. (If you want to read this as a testimonial for my 1999 Saab wagon and Thule car top carrier, go right ahead.) People were on the scene immediately and helped us out of the car. We stayed amazingly calm and I even made sure I had my purse before clambering out.

Which brings me to the point of this post—contemplating the importance of "things." As we stood by the car, waiting for EMTs, state troopers, and a wrecker to arrive, it dawned on me that the many things we had in the car were likely ruined—my daughter's childhood Eastlake dresser and her wedding dress, my sewing machine, our computers, a baby quilt I'd raced to finish so that I could stitch down the binding on vacation. The only injury occurred when Paul reached through the broken glass at the rear of the car to rescue his mandolin and cut his finger. I asked the firefighters if I could climb back into the wreck to retrieve the hat I'd been knitting at the time of the accident. (The firefighter understood my request completely. "My wife knits and quilts and all...she'd do the same.")

Our overwhelming reaction to the accident is to be so grateful for escaping intact that nothing else matters. And that's probably the most obvious lesson—everything else was replaceable, or not so very important in relation to what could have been lost. Still, there was a sick feeling as we watched the wrecker flip the car upright, hearing the crunch of objects inside as they shifted from ceiling to floor. And the stench of gasoline that filled the car made it obvious that even if things weren't broken, they smelled like a Mobil station.

I spend my days writing about people who create objects—fantastic quilts, quirky embroidered bags, needle-felted creatures—and it would be easy to feel that it's rather pointless, that losing one of those items would be nothing in the face of losing a limb or a life. But the accident reminded me too that objects are imbued with a past (the wedding dress) or a future (the stash of fabric I'd brought to stitch holiday gifts), a memory (my daughters' childhood obsession with the Roald Dahl books we had stuffed in the car top carrier), a connection (that baby quilt I wanted to finish and pass along to a newborn).

As we sorted through the mess at my daughter's house in Austin, where I was preparing to pitch the gas-fumed cover of what for years we've called "the car pillow," my daughter balked. "Couldn't you try washing it?" she asked. The terra cotta corduroy cover has been worn smooth by the heads of our family members' during countless naps taken over the years—trips to my aunt and uncle's farm, to the cabin at the lake, to college dorm rooms. Yes, objects can be replaced, but they also remind us of our time together, of who we were, of what we long to accomplish, of our place in the world.

We chose to fly home, rather than retrace our steps (and have to drive past the place where we'd veered off the road). My sewing machine, miraculously unharmed, rode under the seat on the plane. We shipped several boxes of clothing and fabric that had been aired out, washed and dried. My daughter's wedding dress is hanging in her closet and her dresser, piled with her childhood books stands in her garage. I'm writing on the same computer that rode in the car top carrier, on which the weight of the car rolled and came to rest. And today I gave baby Jack Henry the quilt I'd finally finished binding.

We have much for which to be grateful.