Why, yes. One of my children IS Amish.

Why do you ask?

Poor TLo.  A dedicated reader will already be aware that TLo has very little in the way of Clothing That Fits, due to her -ahem- Sturdy Build.  So I added several jumper patterns to her SWAP list, hoping to have at least two or three for school.

I was really excited to make this BurdaStyle pattern (1-2009 #136A), which I've been eyeing since it came out.  Little did I know the shock and horror that would ensue. 

Look at those happy little urchins, just frolicking deceptively in the snow.  They are so totally not telling the truth about this jumper!  Evil, evil urchins.

The first shock came when I finally traced out the pattern pieces and suddenly discovered (I'm a little slow) that the yoke is ONE PIECE.  Seriously, this is a freaky piece of design work. 

It makes the jumper completely Not Adjustable, because the fit of the jumper is necessarily limited by the size of the head-hole.  Since I was up-sizing this a little for TLo, much mathematical confusion ensued leading to a highly typical round of sheer guesswork.  Would TLo be able to get her head through it?  Who knew?

The second shock came when I began assembling said freaky-head-hole-yoke-piece. Sadly, I decided to make the jumper in a fabric that one could only call "inappropriate".  I'm pretty sure it's a Haggar remnant. I got it online for a very good price and if I was making mens' trousers I'd probably be in clover. Sadly, I was making a little girl's jumper.  The results were... unpleasant.

Besides my poor fabric choice (much too stiff and egregiously prone to wrinkling), this pattern was a P.I.T.A. to put together.  I mean, I'm a quilter.  I’m not completely unfamiliar with a curved seam... but this one kicked my butt.  The trauma of it all has rendered details hazy, but I seem to recall that you sew the upper curve of the yoke and facing together whilst sandwiching the two straps, then stitch the (heavily pleated) skirt to one piece and topstitch the other down.  Much as you would any yoke-and-skirt combo, but with y'know, horrifying curves and hugely bulky pleats.  Oh joy.

Wrinkling.  Much, much wrinkling.

It didn’t really get any better from there.

I still make TLo wear this to school.  I’m sure I’ll be sorry in ten years when I have to pay her therapy bills.

A Bird In The Hand…

I went to Hancock's last weekend with the specific purpose of buying some appropriate patterns for TLo, as I have very few patterns in her size.  Given that most Big4 children's patterns are laughably large and my children are comically short, it didn't occur to me that I would need anything above the size 6 range for some time to come. I was wrong.  TLo is now in a size 12/14 width in RTW, which even in the world of Humongous Big4 Patterns is a 10.

TLo and I went to the store together, partly because I was hoping she would enjoy picking out her own patterns (with subtle guidance from yours truly) and partly because The Husband was taking TBO to soccer practice on that side of town anyway so I thought we could all go in one car.  I figured TLo and I, left to our own devices, could easily spend an hour and fifteen minutes in the fabric store.

This was poor reasoning on my part. TLo begged the entire time to be allowed to peruse the button section on her own, which is as far away from the pattern area as you can get and is completely obscured by row upon row of towering fabric aisles.  She was not allowed to peruse.  Or at least, not until we'd sat at the pattern table and looked through the sale books.  Apparently this is a breathtakingly tempting activity when you're not allowed to do it, but mind-numbingly boring when the siren call of the button section sings it's temptress song.  Much whining ensued.  And (despite what you're thinking) not all of it from me.  Pattern selection became a hasty process.

I relate all of this to you, Gentle Reader, in an attempt to excuse what happened next: When I saw this pattern was on sale, my heart skipped a little dance of happiness at the perfect fit for TLo's school uniform.  McCall M6156, size 7 to 14.

Shirtdress styling? Check!  Adjustable empire waistline with drawstring? Check!  Cute as a button? Check!

Perfect.  I forced (her words) TLo to help me find said perfection in the pattern drawer and, with our seven other pattern selections, we made our giddy way to nirvana-- sorry, the button aisle.  All was right with the world.

And then today I finally got around to photo-copying the technical drawing insert for October’s BurdaStyle.  Which I have already pored over a half-dozen times in the past month.  At least.

Um.  Girl's Shirtdress.  With adjustable drawstring empire waist.  Size 134-158. 

Doh!

Monkey See, Monkey Do

One of the disadvantages to having two babies in a year (other than the obvious utter physical despair) is that said babies grow up basically thinking of themselves as… one unit.  Joined at the hip.  Peas in a pod.  Creepily synchronized like children from The Village Of The Damned, if you will.  And of course, what One has the Other must have too. 

Does it matter that their figures are so dissimilar they don’t look like the same species, let alone like siblings?  No.  They must still have the same freakin’ clothes.  But only when the mood takes them. 

They’re called The Evil Monkeys for a reason, people.

I bought this garment for TLo in June:

It did not remotely come close to fitting her.  So I gave it to The Big One instead.  You’d think I gave away the flippin’ kitten or something.  So, I promised to make TLo a top just like it.  Um.  In June.  

So here we are.  BurdaStyle 7/2010 #144.  “June”.  “July”.  Whatever.

Even though this pattern is for knits, I figured it would be fine with the plaid seersucker I bought (you know, in –ahem- June).  I also converted the ties to regular shoulder straps with lingerie hardware.  Mostly because the original garment had those and that seemed to factor highly in TLo’s covetousness of it.

This pattern had two variations, one as a top with a waistband and one as a dress with a hem ruffle.  I used the top length for the bodice and then added the ruffle.

I had a really hard time getting good pictures of this one. 

Possibly because TLo’s inner superstar kept coming out.

In Which I Can’t Think Of A Title

A certain selfish person recently inspired me to go through my back issues of BWOF.  Every month when my new issue arrives, I immediately photocopy the line drawing insert and file it in my Pattern Binder.  After I've perused the actual magazines, they dutifully go into the magazine file and I hardly ever look at them again. 

I do frequently peruse my pattern binder.  As you all know, what you see in the line drawings of BWOF look like a whole 'nuther animal in the photo shoots.  Whole 'nuther.  So I thought to myself, "Self, you might should take a 'nuther little look-see at those photo shoots."   Apparently my self is now from the hills of Kentucky.  Anyhoo, a little look-see I have taken.  And can I just say: WTF?

People wonder why patterns don't fit them?  I give you exhibit A.

E927 fall/winter - 406 Top

What is up with that girl's sleeve?  I mean, we're just going to completely ignore the whole "this is a plus-sized model who has arms like twigs" thing.  But look at that armscye!  Yikes.  Who would that fit?  Even my really truly plus-sized sausage arms wouldn't make that sucker work.

And no, I'm not trying to single-handedly destroy Burda Fashion or anything (despite evidence to the contrary).  This is hardly a phenomenon unique to them.  It's just that they had the misfortune, or rather lack of insight, to shoot this particular transparent top in such a way as to be completely unable to hide the flaw.  That's their mistake, no doubt about it, but every other pattern company I've ever dealt with (with the exception of one, who seems to consistently have the opposite problem) has this type of armscye issue somewhere along the line.   Which does somewhat beg the question of how mere mortal home sewseamstressers are supposed to cope.

You know what would be cool?  Spray-on clothes.  You know, like in the movie "Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs" (which I have seen waaaay too many times).  Spray on shoes?  Like that.  Spray-on clothes.  Then we could all just walk around in big blobby coatings of rubber.  Like pod people.  Ooooooo.  Pod people.

Why Do The Burda Ladies Hate Me?

Clearly they have some sort of personal vendetta out against me.  Is it because I questioned their sobriety?  Because based on the truly disastrous results I had this weekend making up one of their skirts, I can only assume that their crack-addled brains have become hell bent on making my life miserable.  The fact that I chose a skirt from the April 2007 issue, printed three full years before I ever outted the crack-smokin' fashion ladies at Burda, will not sway me from my firm belief in their vindictiveness.  No.  It will not.

So I spent all weekend (and by "all weekend" I mean practically every waking moment from Saturday at 8 am to Sunday at 8 pm... yes, all weekend) trying to deal with skirt #136 from the 04/2007 issue of BWOF. 

I was motivated to start my new and improved wardrobe (partly from the fact that my jeans are rapidly coming to resemble rags).  I very carefully and dutifully took my measurements again, because despite the fact that my little weight slider thing hasn't slid at all (long story), my measurements are definitely smaller than the were two months ago. So armed with brand-spankin' new measurements, I diligently looked up my size on the BWOF sizing chart and discovered.... that I wear exactly the same size that I wore before.   Uh… huh?

This should have tipped me off right there that I was in big trouble.  But do I listen to my inner voices?  Sure, when they tell me that famous TV stars really do love me (he does, Angie, he does!).  But when they're screaming "Cut a size smaller!  Cut a size smaller, for the love of all that's holy!!"?  Nope.  Not me.  When they also hollered "For Pete's sake you stupid woman, make a MUSLIN!!" I turned a deaf ear.  I'm perverse like that.

I could regale you with all the gory details, but to be honest I just don't think I have the stomach for it.  Let's just say that by cutting the size that was a teensy tiny bit smaller than my measurements called for I ended up with, well, a potato sack.  And of course because I decided I was making a "wearable muslin" (bah hahahhahaha!), I had already finished and topstitiched all the interior seaming and could only adjust at the side seam. 

Things I've learned: 

1)You can't really take in a panel skirt four inches at the side seam and expect good results.  

2)Fat people should not wear big skirts.  This does not do good things to their thighs.  Unless “cube” is the style they’re going for.

Now, in the interest of fairness to the drug-addled Burda ladies, I will say that there may have been several extenuating circumstances in this fiasco.

1) When I attached the waistband without any alterations, it mysteriously lined up perfectly with the side seams…. despite the fact that I took off at least two inches from the waist.  This makes me wonder if I somehow traced out the wrong size.  Either that or if I'd tried to make the skirt without adjustments, I would have been really pissed off that the waistband was too small.

2) The pattern calls for a mid-weight drapey fabric (like linen) and I used denim.  This was in retrospect probably not a good idea, as the skirt didn't maybe hang the way it was supposed to.  It was still humongous.  But it might not have been so atrocious if it was drapier.  Maybe.

3)  I clearly have some trouble with my brain when I sew.  Which is leading me to wonder if other people with what I can only term "learning disabilities" also sew and how do they cope?  Because the fact that it took me all weekend to make that flippin' disaster of a skirt (which isn't even finished yet because it still needs the waistband sewn down and a buttonhole), makes me think that I maybe have the wrong hobby.

Which leads me to a general question: Do you have dyslexia and sew?  Or do you know anybody who has dyslexia and sews?  Do they have trouble?  Or is it just that I'm stupid? 

Wait.  Maybe I don't want you to answer that.

Night Of The Living Dead School Girl

OK, I think this child needs therapy of some sort.  When asked to pose for a picture of her uniform this morning, this is what she came up with:

Seriously?  It looks like those Victorian death portraits.  Yay.  That’s exactly what I was going for.

This is a great skirt, which I've made twice so far and plan to make several more times in larger sizes for TLo.  (Yes, it is very confusing that the Big One wears smaller sizes than the Little One- or at least this seems to completely baffle my husband.  The Little One could, technically, be called The Wide One.  But that's just mean.  Plus we're really trying to avoid actively instilling eating disorders in our kids-- unlike several of The Big One's first-grade schoolmates, who shall remain anonymous, and oh man don't even get me started on that one.)

This is BWOF 10-2006-140.  For some reason the new skirt from BWOF 12-2009 (as shown by Angie A. on her blog today) reminded me of this skirt.  In fact, they're not really all that similar, but I like the flippy skirt idea as a general concept.  It's particularly nice for more tailored school uniform looks.  I find the oversized A-line jumpers get a little boring after a while.

Anyway, I made this in a navy twill and a khaki twill as per the Great Uniform SWAP rules.  Both are Docker remnants from someplace or other (can't remember where exactly, might be Fabric Mart, might be someplace else). 

The only real change I made to the pattern was to add buttonhole elastic to the waistband.    Or at least, I think that was a change.  Anyway, it’s a change that I usually make if it’s not already included in the pattern.  I am a devout believer in Buttonhole Elastic. 

Because The Big One is so slender at the waist and basically has no butt (she gets that from her dad), I have to pull in the waistline quite a bit or else her skirt falls off. 

I think in this picture you can still see how nice a hip curve it has though.

  

This style must have been really popular in Germany in 2006.  In 2007 I met no fewer than 5 German women who pretty much had this exact skirt in denim.  I can see why they liked it, it's pretty darn cute.

This was the best pose I could get out of The Big One.  Plus, she’s looking particularly lovely with her giant missing-tooth gap and her hair uncombed.   I’m such a good mom to post these photos for everyone in the world to see.  I’ll be sure to save them to show her prom date too.

More Crack Smokin’ Fashion Madness

So I don’t normally feel compelled to comment about Burda Style. It’s a goofy magazine at the best of times, with an oddly eclectic assortment of fashion “points of view” as they say (ad nauseum) on Project Runway. I mean, this makes sense: it comes out once a month and it has an average of 25 patterns in it. That’s a lot of magazine to fill and a lot of patterns to design. And let’s be honest, there are only so many things that can be reasonably done with a jacket. I expect to not love every issue. Some things are going to be more appealing to me than others. Fair enough. And then yesterday the December 2009 issue showed up in my mailbox.

All I can think is that the good people at Burda have finally succumbed completely to what used to be an occasional crack habit and they are now living in a box under the bridge and shouting incoherently at people who walk by.

First, there’s the “Party” section. Fine. Clearly they’re aiming for the young 20’s market. But really, is this something that’s appropriate for any party that isn’t one where you’re working as the “entertainment”?

And then, there’s this.

But wait, here’s what the text said: "Our extravagant brocade evening blouse with big, shoulder-puff sleeves is particularly flattering on tall women."

This actually left me speechless for several seconds.

They think a tall woman would be better off in this thing? Right. Because that’s what all the tall women I know want, to look like a linebacker.

After that rather breathtaking weirdness, I decided to just skip ahead to the “plus”-sized section. Compared to the rest of the magazine, they usually have pretty dull offerings in this section so I figured, “How bad can it be?”

“Hey Sailor, want some company?”

Seriously? And it just goes on from there. I mean, really: this month they have four different styles of capes. Capes, for crying out loud!

I just can’t get behind this issue. Maybe next month’s will be more inspiring.

edited to add: I saw this review by ALY at PatternReview and while I still can't really get behind the linebacker garment (or this entire issue, for that matter) I will say that she did a really spectacular job sewing this up and it looks pretty good on her. So you go, ALY! (And she's tall, too, so there you go what do I know?)

The Cutest Ruffle-Skirt.... EVER!

Ok, this would be have been a funnier title if you had had some sort of familiarity with our CD collection.

My husband used to be in the habit of buying compilation CDs. I really found this weird when we first met... in the US this wasn't a very common way to sell CDs (at least not to people who didn't spend all their time purchasing things from RonCo off the TV). However, in New Zealand (and based on the number of CDs my husband has from before NZ, apparently the UK too) they're everywhere. Lots and lots of compilation CDs.

"Hard Rock Guitar Songs"
"Pop Music Wedding Songs"
"Crappy Love Songs From The 1980's That Will Make You Wish You Were Never Born (Or At Least Not During The 1980's)"

So anyway, we have this series of CDs from New Zealand called "The Best (insert your type of music or song here).... EVER!" Trust me. This is something of a hyperbolic statement.

Saying that, this really is a cute ruffle-skirt. I've been eyeing it ever since it came out, which was over three years ago (this gives you some idea of the pace of my sewing strategy).



This is BWOF 6-2006 #140. The original pattern calls for a ribbing waistband and batiste ruffles. I decided to go with knit for the ruffles because TLo had two tiered knit summer skirts that she adored but outgrew. My devious plan was to replace the old skirts with something similar in order to ensure that she might actually wear the stupid things. So far, the plan has worked since she seems to really like these two skirts.

This was the first one, made with a heavy white interlock at the waistband (I didn't have any ribbing and couldn't be bothered to try to locate any) and a nice medium-weight interlock print for the tiers.



This really was as easy to sew as BWOF claimed in their little blurb. You cut a rectangle for the waistband, seam it into a tube, fold in half and viola, a waistband. You cut the ruffles as you would normally (i.e. curved strips in two widths), baste together at the top, attach the waist band and serge the whole thing together. You're done! Instant (almost) skirt! Oh, well you do need to finish the hems of the ruffles, which I did with a rolled lettuce hem on my serger. Very very quick to make.

Here's the second version.



This one I added a little more detail, for a few reasons. First was that the fabric was somewhat similar in color to the first skirt. Second (and more importantly) was that I thought the first might be just a shade too short to last long. I had planned on just cutting the tiers a little longer. Except that the fabric I wanted to use only juuuuust fit the pattern as-is. Hmmm... what to do? I really wanted to use up that half-yard of fabric, since I purchased it three years ago to make a baby shirt... uh... for the now five-year-old.

Oh how I miss the days when a half-yard of fabric could make almost anything.

I didn't want to add any bulk to the main body of the skirt by adding an entire third layer of another fabric, becuse the teal knit was really beefy. In the end I decided to add another little ruffle layer to the hem of the bottom tier. To do this, I roll-hemmed a strip of seersucker fabric and gathered it to fit the length of the hem. The strip was measured to be about 1.5" below the hem of the knit ruffle and extend about 1" above the hem. That way I had enough room to attach the strip and still do a rolled hem on the knit ruffle. I used a cover-stitch to attach the strip so the raw seam was covered on the wrong side.





It came out pretty well, although this fabric tends to flip up where it's lettuce-edged.



I don't mind since the wrong side is white and goes with the white hem strip and waistband. Or in any case, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Classic Oxford Blouse. Teeny.

I've been having some trouble working out what piece of my Uniform SWAP I should write about first... not because they're all so terribly interesting, more that I just can't get my brain organized around writing and taking photos and remembering what the heck I did when I sewed these up in the first place.

So I'm going to start with this little blouse. I have a fair recollection of the changes I made. And it was sitting on the table waiting to be ironed. Notice the wrinkles.

 

Actually, it's pretty cute. You can't really tell in this photo, but it's a very nice light blue oxfordcloth that I got for super-cheap from FashionFabrics.com.

 

I love them. They are the perfect enablers... er, I mean, purveyors of fabric. Nothing I purchased for this SWAP cost more than $4.25/yard. And with a teeny tiny midget to sew for, 1 yard was all I needed for almost everything. In a very few cases I bought (gasp) 1.25 yards.

 

Ooooo. The decadence.

This pattern was cut from Burda WOF issue 10-2008, pattern #139. Here's BWOF's version:

Très disco, non?

A little too disco for first grade, in my humble opinion. To tone down the, uh, tone, I decided to round off the collar point for a more girlie look. (It's a good thing I did. About a week after I made this, my daughter got a very short pixie haircut and does-- despite what we tell her-- sometimes look a little bit like a boy. The girlie clothes help.)

The collar and collar-stand on this blouse are HUGE. Seriously. David-Soul-circa-1977 huge. Throw in some flaired corduroy pants and a peace-sign pendant and you are good to go. Anyway, here's the collar redrafted.

 

(Oh. And please excuse the Aciphex pattern paper. Actually, I get this for free from a doctor's office. It's exam table paper. If you don't have a roll, get one. It is the bestest ever for tracing patterns and costs, well, nothing. Or at least, it cost me nothing. What a deal.)

(Seriously. I am the cheapest person ever.)

Here's the other major change I made to this pattern: I cut short sleeves instead of the long. Because the original sleeve was wide at the upper arm, I left it as-is and drafted in some pleats so that it would fit into a cuff. This gives it a nice puffed-sleeve effect with pretty minimal changes. I drafted the cuff myself and just used my daughter's bicep measurement plus about 2" for ease. I sized the peats to fit into the cuff length and added a vent with a classic lap. You could do the same thing without drafting the pleats by just evenly spacing them once you have your cuff cut out and then basting them down. Easy-peasy and totally cute.

 

Sorry, the following photos are horribly wrinkled. No, wait. I mean the shirt is horribly wrinkled. The photos are pretty flat. Either way, they're ugly. Here's the front and back of the sleeve.

Well there you go. That's about it on this one. I'm going to make at least one more for the SWAP in some other shirting fabric. It meets my requirements of being 1) different-but-not-too-different and 2) cutie-patootie.

That's a high-fashion sewing term, in case you were wondering.