Moodboards: Trying it out

While cleaning out my clutter drawer (there is only one of them) a couple of weeks ago I re-possesed my giant design-book from all the junk. Seriously, the thing weighs a ton, black hard-cover and all. 

When I was younger I used to draw my designs in that humongous book. One per page. It grated on my nerves that I had left so much white, wasted space around my design sketches. So I spent two hours cutting and pasting the sketches that I could, trying to condense them. I was partially successful, and what you see here is a snapshot of everything I made (but most things I was just fantasizing about making) when I was 7-10 years old. 

That same day while perusing Madalynne which I am wont to do often, very often (I believe I have linked Maddie's blog in a post one too many times, but I can't help it! I am inspired by her take on sewing) I came across her moodboard for this dress. 

From what I have garnered, a moodboard is a type of collage for garments you have sewn. Maddie's reflected on the skills she had learned/improved, some of the difficulties she came across, and her inspiration when sewing the garment. 

I decided to try it out by making a moodboard for my latest creation, the Fitted Sloper-tunic. 

Mine is a little bit different. I decided to write some general notes on the fit to start off with, then try and find some solutions to those fitting issues and any other problems I had in the 'design improvement' section in case I wanted to re-make the same garment at a later date. Lastly, I finished with listing all of the mistakes I made when putting the piece together for future reference and to improve my sewing self. 

I also drew a basic sketch of the garment and pasted a picture of myself wearing it as well as a piece of the fabric I used. To decorate I did a rough imitation of the pattern and colors of my fabric using water colors. 

Get used to it! There will be many more of these in future blog posts. These collages are a fun way to learn more about your sewing process, document your makes, and get better at sewing all at the same time! 

Positive Deviance

Positive deviants are the Martha Stewards of this world. They are the theatre company DV8 and the Laura Margolis Jarblums. Positive deviance is doing something that is outside of the norms, but in our society the abnormal has become normal. We are so diverse that what is cool is to be uncool. I like that about us. I like that I can wear a me-made shirt to school, and if I get a compliment on it I can say that I made it myself without being poked fun at. 

There are still people who do this, of course there are. This world is (contrary to my instructions) not a faire story, which explains a lot. 

Like that guy in my homeroom who crosses his fingers to make his penny stocks go up and idolizes the USA to the extend of sacrificial worship. I spent a friday afternoon biking around the neighborhood handing out brochures for a knitting class I was doing. 

He asked me the next day how my class was going and I'm not entirely sure how sincere he was. I am not ashamed of my hobbies, but that does not mean I will make it widely known that I sew and knit. That would be handing ammunition to those who wish to mow me down. 

What would be the point in that?

I was reading an article by James Altucher on how to fend off haters, because it seems that I've been getting a lot of those recently. He talked about the 30/30/30 rule. That is, for everything creative and amazing that you do, 1/3 will love you, 1/3 will hate you, and 1/3 won't care. 

For the past half year, since last summer, I've been writing a book. I have a little bit to go before I finish and have begun to wonder whether I will publish it or not. I am proud of my work and there is a lot of great stuff in it. The problem is, it is written about me and real people, people who are still alive and don't have amnesia (although that would be convenient I am not hoping that they will suddenly forget at least two years of their life) 

I like to paint and draw, and when something turns out the way I wanted it to, or a success appears out of a simple doodle (which is most often the case!) I hang it on my wall to remind myself of what I can do. 

Do this often. Keep your successes close to you like you do those whom you love. They are your blanket, your cushion, and bulldozer. Hide your failures away in a closet (like me) so you only have to look at them when you root through cardboard boxes of unwanted clothes. Or keep them just as close to remind yourself of what not to do, and what you can do better.

This may sound like complete poppycock (I've been waiting for a chance to use that word) to you but I'm just starting out. So far the only page views on my blog are from myself. I am confident that eventually someone will find this blog but until then it is still invaluable as a kind of online diary for myself. 

Fitted Sloper-tunic

With the help of Maddie's front and back sloper tutorial I was able to create my first fitted, me-made shirt! This shirt is everything but professional, with seams tucked in opposite directions, bunched hems, and bulging fabric around the collar. Nevertheless, I am determined to show it off at school tomorrow. 

As I said, the top part of the bodice is a sloper pattern, and the bottom, made with many panels that widen at the base, is reminiscent of an a-line skirt. When constructing and sewing this garment I took a different approach than I usually do; patience and diligence. 

Most of the time I am so excited to finish my project that I rush through it and make dumb mistakes. Sometimes I get lucky and it turns out perfect but mostly I am disappointed by the thing. It took me three weeks and lots of patience to finally finish this one, but I am glad that I took my time and re-did some of the easier-to-fix mistakes because it turned out just as I had imagined it!

While hemming this one I learned something that will save my butt many times in the future, using a criss-cross stitch to hem raveling edges. 

The hems on industrial garments have always stumped me, but today while browsing Scruffy Badger Time, I came across how they do it. It's a four or three threaded stitch! 
Sadly my sewing machine does not have that ability. I look forward to moving to the US and buying a new sewing machine (mine is not compatible with the voltage in the wall plug-ins) that can do four-threaded stitches!

Simple Pillowcase Top

This shirt is essentially a pillow-case with armholes and a v-neck.  I dyed it myself using a chopped up avocado seed and skin.  

The little black swirls are hand-embroidered using plain black sewing thread and hours of meticulous stitching. 

No special skills required, just cut out two panels large enough to fit you, measure around the widest part of your head and divide that number by three. 

Lay the two panels on top of each other and mark the back of the collar on both panels using you measurement divided by three, make sure it is in the center of each panel by measuring from the marks (hereby reffered to as marks A and B) to the sides of the panel. 

Then lay your measuring tape on mark A, and measure down using the same measurement to create one side of a V, do the same with mark B to complete the V. Make sure the point of the V is equal distance from both marks A and B. 

Cut out the V and leave about 1in. of seam allowance. Hem all sides of the two panels including the V neck and sew the shoulder seam. 

Measure from the top of your shoulder to 11/2 inches bellow your armpit. Use this measurement to mark the depth of your armhole. Sew the sides up to the last mark you made (for the armhole). 

If you want the sleeves to look like mine, fold a portion of the edge of the sleeve under the armhole and sew along to shoulder seam to make it stay. Be sure to fold the same amount on both sides. Good luck!

How & Why

 How & Why

How and why I became who I am (at least sewing wise!). The first time I sewed I was five and we lived in Lille, France. I remember being determined to make a blanket for the mice I was convinced lived in our basement. Sitting at a table with a glass of milk and a stack of digestive cookies (heaven on earth!) to keep me company, I slowly plodded my way through. I sat for hours in our garage and stitched together four square pieces of felt with inch-thick stiches. I cut a star out of the felt and slapped it on with more sloppy stiches. Sadly, the mice never used it and to this day I doubt their existence. Years later when we were living in Sweden I found the blanket and went over my first ever stiches with the industrial highways of a sewing machine's ridged stiches.The most challenging thing for me at first was threading the needle. I would finally manage to stab it through the eye after licking it multiple times, only to have the thread come out again because I pulled too hard. Then my mother showed me how to double up the thread! I was amazed at how easy it was from then on!

My next challenge came when I was seven. I was going to a Waldorf school and one day came across a book on how to make Waldorf dolls. I instantly fell in love! I went home and made one without instructions except the pictures I had seen. That worked out fine and I’ve been making them ever since. Just kidding, it doesn’t work that way! I had neither the right materials, the right pattern, nor the correct method of assembly. It looked, well, pretty far from the real thing. (Never be discouraged if a project doesn’t happen the way you want it to the first time.) But being seven, I loved it anyway.  For the time being, at least. 

Eventually I wanted to make another, but this time determined to do it right. I sought the help of a very good friend whose three older sisters and mother taught her the ropes before she could walk. They were a quintuple-pack of sewing savvy Swedes! I borrowed material and advice from her and brought home the book that had so successfully wedded me to these dolls. Despite all of that, I made one fatal mistake that caused yet another catastrophic failure. I had forgotten to read how to place the pattern. The fabric used to sew Waldorf dolls is stretchy, and unless you lay the patterns lengthwise along the grain of the fabric the limbs will be octopus-esque. 

Then I got my first sewing machine from Santa, funny, I thought he only made toys. At first, I was too scared to actually put the peddle to the metal and instead cranked the handle at the side of my sewing machine. I had sewn the entire bottom half of the doll before finally lifting the clutch and- it fell apart in my hands. I didn’t know a thing about my sewing machine and it took some puzzling to figure out what was wrong. It was the tension. When all of the kinks had been worked out I had a doll with very fat legs and very skinny arms but no mean amount of kiddy love coming its way anyhow. 

                                                                    

I felt like I had finally done it, so after two more dolls of varying quality just because I felt like it, I moved on. I made several smaller dolls, including a tiny companion for my brother (and a wife to keep the companion company), a rag doll, and a bunt doll (who were, obviously, best buddies).

Stuffed animals were the new ‘in’. I made two cats, one more successful than the other. Two strange levitating horse-creatures with no legs. A beautiful fluffy white bunny (whose glass eyes fell out, lovely right?) and a lamb of the same material. 

A friend and I also aspired to create our own designer company. We made an orange fleece skirt and a leotard that could be folded over to look like a very short dress or a leotard/shorts ordeal. 

On my own I made an embroidered handkerchief (with fake initials to boot) and a beautiful full-length dress with flared short-sleeves. 

Before the success of that dress I had made a hilarious first attempt with another material. It didn’t quite fit, to put it gently. 

 

My mother and I made a matching vest and skirt from the most beautiful silk for me to wear to my first school dance. Truth be told, she did most of the work. 

Next I made four adorable puppies and had a terry-cloth cat phase before being absorbed into the creative equivalent of porridge: the American school system.                   

Or as American as it gets in China. I didn’t sew anything for two years, two years! Until I went to visit in Sweden and was gifted with a Waldorf doll that had all but hair. I stayed up all night embroidering a handkerchief to give in return and putting hair on my bald present. 

That kicked me into action and I began churning out doll clothes and dolls once more. And that brings you pretty much up to the present, for the rest of what I’ve made since then visit the ‘stitches’ or ‘sweets’ pages on my blog or email me with pestering questions at littleisland2017@gmail.com.