Posted on January 28, 2015
Today, I’m excited to be part of a giveaway over at Kids Clothes Week! Enter for your chance to win THREE new kids’ patterns PLUS a spot in the Sewing Knits without the Serger class.
The Overmost and Pinafore are in the final phases of testing and will be available for presale in a matter of days! Eeek! And the dress featured in the Cotton + Steel booth under the Pinafore last fall will come out soon after:
You’ll receive all three patterns when they release plus get immediate access to the Sewing Knits class–join me in stitching up all your favorite clothes in stretch fabrics!
Enter here or over on the Kids Clothes Week blog!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Posted on January 15, 2015
I have a new online class available! I’ve teamed up with BurdaStyle to offer my Sewing Knits without the Serger course as a four-week, interactive online class in their Master Class series. This course has ALL NEW content, including seven new video segments that were shot specifically for BurdaStyle. I’m seriously excited to share it all with you!
If you’ve ever wanted to make your own tee shirts or lounge pants or yoga wear, but have avoided it because knit fabrics intimidate you or you thought you needed a serger in order to get the job done, this course is for you! With three original patterns to sew up, you’ll practice your new skills by working through projects you already want to make. And with printable lists of patterns to try once the course is over, this class is an excellent starting point for a love affair with stretch sewing!
We’ll cover how to work with knits on the cutting table and under the needle, how to understand sizing and fit, and then assemble a series of mini-projects that gets you accustomed to the seam finishes you might want to use when sewing knits. After that, we’ll sew up a sweet little tank top (camisole) with elastic straps, a fold-over waistband skirt, a pair of lounge (pajama) pants that will be the softest you’ve ever worn, and finally work on a tee shirt so you can learn to make professional finishes. Each project has a printable instruction guide and downloadable pattern pieces, and I’m so excited to show you all the updates to this class!
Registration is open NOW. Join the class here, and I’ll see you on January 30!
Posted on January 8, 2015
I made my husband underwear. Yep. UNDERWEAR. And as one of my sweet IG friends asked, “Do you always make your husband’s underwear?”, no, I never have before. But I uncovered Kwik Sew 1672 when I was digging through the (alarming number of) accumulated pajama patterns in my sewing area, looking for just the right ones for this year’s Christmas Eve jammies (more on that later), and it was asking to be made. Begging, really. Begging non-chalantly whiel leaning up against a wall. An invisible wall. Would YOU have been able to resist?
This has been sitting in a basket waiting to be sewn up for about a zillion years, and I don’t know why I waited so long. It was a fun, simple sew with just enough details to keep me interested. The fit is pretty great (sorry, ladies, hubs was NOT down with modeling for you–which is a shame, because you’re missing out #sorrynotsorry), and the design is very much in line with store-bought boxers. It doesn’t take a ton of yardage, and let’s be very clear here: is an EXCELLENT use for those novelty prints that you just can’t resist but neeeeeeeed to buy.
Hence the ridiculous nativity boxers seen above. Holla!
This print makes me laugh. I found it at a 75% off big box fabric store sale a few years ago, and bought just a little over a yard-ish. Plenty to make these boxers. And I thought it was funny? Maybe a little irreverent, but not ill-intended? They’re Christmas pants! Anyway, my husband is amused by them.
One of the features I was most intrigued by in this design is that it lacks a center back seam–just cut on the fold for a nice, smooth behind. I’ve seen lots of the boxers we’ve bought him have a gusset in the back, and some have just a simple center back seam (like the ones we got at Banana not too long ago), so to see a pair with neither was interesting. I wasn’t totally sure they’d be comfortable or not ride up, but he reports back that he didn’t really notice until I mentioned it, which tells me it’s pretty good!
The fly construction takes up the majority of the sewing for these, since the rest is simple seams. The instructions are nicely written, and give good stitching diagrams to get a polished, professional finish on the fly with NO RAW EDGES. That last is really important to me, since I want anything up close to my skin to feel as completed as possible. The width of the waistband and (ahem) sizing of the opening seem to be in line with most off-the-rack men’s underpants.
The nativity boxers were rolled up and tied with a ribbon, then put in my husband’s stocking for Christmas morning. Being me, I went ahead and cut two pair while I was at it, but didn’t quite get the second completed when I was sewing. Those I gave him just last week (For the 11th Day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeee….): Grinch boxers.
You can see on this pair how there’s a nice box sewn at the upper waistband, along the elastic, and a trapezoid at the lower end of the fly, to catch the raw edges of the fly facings and hold them in place on the interior. Both the right and left fly are finished cleanly with stitches away from the opening, so there isn’t a lot of bulk. It looks clean and professional in person.
On the interior, you can see the point at the lower end of the fly–the lower squared raw edges are tucked up at a diagonal and the trapezoid is stitched from the right side to keep it all pretty.
I opted to serge most of these seam allowances, rather than making French seams, partly because I didn’t want to invest the time in French seams and come to learn that the boxers didn’t fit well. The only exception is here, the very first curved crotch seam below the fly, which is where all the assembly begins. Because it intersects with the fly facings, and is a tiiiight curve, you can’t really get the serger in there (or, at least, I can’t), so I chose to overcast the edges and then topstitch them in place before moving on to the rest of the construction. I serged the side seams, and then sewed the inseam (at the bottom of the image here) and serged it BEFORE adding the elastic, even though the instructions have you sew the inseam last before the hems. This was so I could topstitch all those seams–side and inseam–to one side, so there isn’t any friction along thighs on either side. I like a smooth finish.
The waistband finish is nice in that it doesn’t involve a casing–you fold and press the upper raw edge to the wrong side, then place the underwear elastic over it and stitch in place. Just like they do in the factories, y’all. The raw ends of the elastic tuck under the fly facings at the center front.
The hem is just a simple double-turned hem. My husband pointed out that these boxers are shorter than most of the ones we buy at the store, but that he thought it was a good thing, since that makes for less bulk to fit into snugger pants (like jeans, as opposed to suit pants or khakis). When sewing these up, I made the medium, and when it comes to bulk, they seemed HUUUUGE. But once the elastic was on, they seemed right in line with every other pair of boxers I’ve seen. So I guess dudes just like ’em roomier?
One final note: I did purchase the “underwear or swimsuit” elastic for these, from Hancock. These two pair are laid on top of one another at the left side seam, and you can see how the nativity pair (which have been laundered since sewing) are narrower than the Grinch pair (where the fabric was prewashed but the elastic hasn’t been laundered). Just FYI that, while I may have had some margin in the cutting of the elastic, for sure it shrinks up a little in the wash. Also: I was forced to press the nativity pair for these photos, a task I never thought I’d do and quite honestly would have assiduously avoided ten years ago. WHO AM I??
Anyone else ever sew boxers? I can smell a new trend in sewing women’s underwear coming on, and have seen a few pair of boys’ boxer briefs, but don’t see men’s underpants very often. Is that because we don’t sew a lot of underpants? Or is that because when sewing we tend to neglect the men in our lives? Something to keep in mind with Valentine’s Day just around the corner…
Posted on January 7, 2015
Well, now that it’s 2015, it’s time to wrap up my One Little Word project from 2014! Last year, I invited in the word MARGIN. (Or it invited itself. Whatever.) It was a long year of saying NO and learning that you have to nest before you can lay an egg. Which is not to say that I’m ready to lay an egg, but it is to point out that I learned a lot and let go of a lot in the 12 months I thought about how to give myself space to grow and expand.
Posted on December 30, 2014
OK, I won’t bore you with too many of the background details, but this list came from an amalgamation of factors: my desire to sew as much as I can ONLY from my stash of on-hand fabrics in the coming months; the inspiration provided by Erin with her “26BOOKS” list for the coming year; my deep and abiding love for lists of any kind; and my on-going cogitation over how to re-format the Sewing Buddy Project (entering its SIXTH year!) so that it works better for all the Buddies involved, rather than scrapping it altogether. That last one has been a pretty strong motivator, obviously, and this list seems to be tickling me that it’ll fold it’s way into the Sewing Buddies one way or another.
It’s a New Year, and I think a lot of us are looking for a means to help keep us motivated and moving forward as we sew, but also to move away from the comfortable and the familiar in small ways. I’ve spent some time talking to folks over the years about their sewing goals, and I wanted to assemble a list that ANYONE could use to guide their sewing, at any level. You’re a beginner? Then #8 is all about using double-gauze or knits for you. You’ve been sewing for 40 years? Then #8 is all about leather or burlap or fused fallen leaves for you. Options are limitless, and so is inspiration–and no matter how much sewing you’ve done, there’s always something left to discover and to which to aspire. I’m beyond any doubt that it is THIS which keeps me coming back to my machine again and again: the endless options, like entering a library and realizing you could read them ALL.
Will you play along with me? There are 17 items in this list. That averages out to one project every three weeks, which seems pretty manageable. It also allows for some lulls and some catch-ups and some life to happen, without any damage. Plus, there are lots of these that could, conceivably, be combined into a single project, if you’re into that kind of thing (like making your something borrowed be the same as your something blue).
I plan to do these in order, and realistically, won’t combine any. I like to do things the hard way like that.
I’ll be using hashtag #2015SewingList over on Instagram to share images, and I’d love to see you do the same. How fun would it be to see all the ideas and projects rolling out over the coming year? I’ve got some mental lists, too, of great links and patterns and tutorials and Pin boards to share, and some ideas for how this list could inspire the 2015 Sewing Buddies. I hope you’ll tag your images and join the fun!
Bring it on, 2015. I’m ready.
Posted on December 9, 2014
About seven years ago, we had an AMAZING Christmas. Amazing in the sense that there were a LOT of presents. Like, SO many. It was an embarrassment of riches. And I couldn’t quite explain it, but it really did feel like…an embarrassment. There was something about the sheer VOLUME of gifts that made me feel overwhelmed and spendthrifty and gluttonous. After all the gift wrap drifted to the floor following the frenzy of ripping and tearing, I realized that I didn’t feel happier, not the way I wanted to. I didn’t feel more fulfilled. I just felt let down. Like a balloon that slowly loses air and is all wrinkled and tragic at the end.
One of my favorite writers to quote is Amy Dacyzyn, and she has written about this phenomenon. Based on her writings, we’ve come to call this the Ice Cream Sundae Principle. She says, basically, that when most folks take their kids out for ice cream, over time, the kids want more and bigger ice cream treats. It starts out with a cake cone and a scoop of vanilla, but pretty soon, that’s old hat, so their parents get them TWO scoops, but that’s not enough after a while, so it’s a sundae, but then that’s familiar (and so contemptible), and they have to have a banana split… You see how this goes. It’s the same idea behind eating any sweets: your taste buds get numb to the flavor, so the fifth bite really isn’t as sweet or as satisfying as the first.
Dacyzyn’s argument is that when the thrill wears off on a treat or a pleasure, the answer isn’t MORE, it’s LESS. She points out that most folks assume they have to keep cranking it up a notch, but for her family, they simply do it less often in order to allow time to bring back the original thrill. So when a cake cone with a scoop of vanilla isn’t satisfying or exciting for her kids, they just go to the ice cream parlor less often, until a scoop is AWESOME again. It’s not a punishment–it’s about pacing our lives and our desires in a way that prevents a good thing from becoming a bad thing, prevents a wholesome desire from becoming a greedy obsession.
This is the single most influential concept I have read or heard as a parent, seriously. In terms of how we handle basic, day-to-day navigation of a world where we can have so much for so cheaply, this one idea–that sometimes what we need is LESS of a good thing or it becomes a bad thing–has changed how we address a multitude of lifetime events for our marriage and our children.
So, then: Christmas. One year after the Christmas I described above, we decided to make a change. I had an idea. I had a wonderful, awful idea: what if we did FEWER gifts for our children? Like, JUST TWO? I know, I know: that’s insanity. But it has led to some of the most fulfilling Christmas memories we have.
Here’s how we do it:
We–the internet culture–spent a lot of time the past couple of years talking about FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS. Well, here’s a FWP for you: it’s Christmas morning, and you’re surrounded by presents and torn paper and ribbons and bows, and you feel empty inside. Like, you’re glad it’s Christmas and the tearing and excitement was awesome, but now that it’s all over, you feel a little let down and dissatisfied. It’s not that you want MORE, not really, it’s just that you’re not sure that’s all there is–or that it’s all there’s SUPPOSED to be. It’s a weird longing, a just-out-of-reach ache, when you realize you’re not super enthused about ANY of the gifts you’ve received and think maybe you’re just ready to head back to your regular life. Let’s turn on the TV. Christmas is over.
Have you ever had that feeling? How tragic is that? And let’s be honest: how pathetic? Right?
To have a world of presents dumped on you and STILL NOT BE HAPPY. It’s the root of what we’re fighting as parents, this sense of emptiness when given so many riches. And I’m trying so hard to fight that as I raise my kids. In part, I want them to learn to be grateful when they receive something they didn’t want or don’t necessarily like–my oldest is an ACE at this. She has gotten some, let’s be honest, totally CRAP gifts over the years from extended family who didn’t know quite what to get her but wanted to give her SOMETHING. And man, that kid can look beyond the object and to the giver and truly be thankful to have been thought of and remembered. She amazes me that way. I want all my children to learn that deep level of gratitude.
At the same time, I want to recognize that I have the power to limit the number of items they receive, and cultivate both that gratitude AND their appreciation for how it feels to experience true joy and rapture when opening that Perfect Gift. I remain convinced, just like that ice cream sundae, that FEWER gifts will allow them the room inside their hearts to deeply love what they DO receive. I don’t know where I read it, but there was a story a couple years ago about a kid who loved, loved, loved his two toy cars, so his grandmother bought him TEN new toy cars. And then she saw that he didn’t play with ANY of them anymore. She asked him why and he said, “Gramma, I can’t love TEN.” Something about having too MANY made it hard for him to love ANY. How’s that for a snapshot of what’s happening to our children in this culture of constant want and immediate gratification?
Here are the benefits from limiting our gift-giving to only two gifts (plus an abundant stocking):
I’ll close by openly saying that this practice does NOT (so far) seem to save us any money. We set a budget for each child and work to stay within it. I am not concerned with spending an equal amount on each kid, only on meeting that child’s hopes as best as I am able within the set amount we’re willing to spend. We nearly always go over budget on one of them, but come wildly under budget on another–our four-year-old this year stated emphatically before Thanksgiving that all she really wanted from Santa was an Anna doll to play with her Elsa doll. It’s a $25 doll, and we were delighted to order it for her. She came in well under budget this year, but will be elated with her gift.
What it DOES save us is our sanity and, I think, our integrity. I can’t feel good about spending 364.25 days a year writing and talking about loving handmade and teaching our children the value of good quality–and then buying up a zillion cheap gifts on Christmas. I sincerely believe that by limiting what we put under the tree, we’re communicating to our children in the most powerful way that we mean what we say: it isn’t THINGS that matter, it’s people. It isn’t STUFF that makes life special, it’s experiences. And that the Christmas memories–the FAMILY memories–we most want them to have are about loving each other and being together.
I don’t know how helpful this is to others to hear that we do Christmas this way, and I freely admit that it’s an on-going process through which I learn more about myself and my children every year (did I mention that I’m discovering I have issues with greed and hoarding?). I feel deeply convicted that this is a step in the right direction to building a family culture of generosity and thoughtfulness and gratitude and contentment, and one of my dearest wishes is that my children will grow up and carry that into the world with them where it will spread like ripples in the water. Here’s hoping it does the same for you and yours!
Posted on November 14, 2014
Sunday at 1 pm, I’ll be at Fancy Tiger Crafts in Denver to teach a workshop, sewing up the Overmost! I may also be suffering from extreme hypothermia, since it is FREEZING in Denver right now. Good thing the Overmost is fully lined–babywale corduroy! fleece! flannel! It’s perfect for cold weather. I just wish it came in my size.
It’s called the OverMOST because it’s not OverALL, but it seemed silly not to make a pattern that could be both long AND short. I still call the long version the Overmost, though. It’s funner to say.
Gah!! Look at that belly! These can also be made fully reversible, using two quilt-weight cottons or other lightweight fabrics. I rarely flip them all the way over, but have been known to do it when there’s a spill that needs covering up and I don’t have an extra set of clothing around. The version above is in a herringbone linen, way back when our boy was a bitty bit. Sigh. Chubby cheeks!!
We’ll also be talking about adding rick rack or trim or ruffles while we’re in the workshop, a detail that wasn’t available in the original version of the pattern but WILL be part of the re-boot. Woot!
The updated version of the pattern will be available when I get back from teaching this workshop–register now for one of the handful of remaining spots available, or get the newsletter to get an email when the new pattern is released!
Also: send me warming energy this weekend, y’all. I don’t even have the right clothes for sub-zero temperatures. And I suffer from seasonal dry skin. Whimper.
Posted on November 12, 2014
So, I asked the question about Google Reader killing blog comments, and not intending to do an experiment, also posted a quick screen shot of the blog post title on Instagram:
Really I was posting on IG because I wanted to alert people that I had blogged–I suspect because, deep down, I figured no one would know otherwise? Like, I assumed that people didn’t read their feeds now that Reader is gone, and they only found out about posts from social media? Which is more or less what the comments on IG told me, but that was only part of the story.
Over on Instagram, I got a boatload of comments fairly quickly: a total of 33 over the course of about two hours. In the same space of time, how many comments do you think I got here on the blog? THREE. Seriously. So, there it was, I thought: the conversation has left blogs and moved to social media, and thinking that blogging still has a place in the universe of the online sewing community is just naive. Boo, sniff. Right?
Well, yes and no. Over the following week–where, again, I wasn’t intentionally doing an experiment, just so busy with other projects (actually sewing!!) that I neglected to do a follow-up post–I watched the comments on the blog increase. And increase. And increase. Even today, as I’m writing this post, I have seen two more come in. Total of 39 comments to date, and the vast majority of them are extensive and thoughtful and considered and substantive.
Comments on IG were also occasionally extensive–impressively so, for a bunch of folks typing with their thumbs–but many were quick nods acknowledging my title/thesis without much more detail. Many were left based on the title ALONE, without having read my post. Which made me think that there really are two totally SEPARATE audiences: there’s a blog audience, and there’s an Instagram/social media audience. (Again, since I had zero intention of doing a legit experiment, all my data are accidental, so I can’t compare any of this with, say, Facebook, but I suspect the results would be largely similar if not identical.) From the comments I received just on this one off-the-cuff post, folks who respond via social media do so there almost exclusively, and some of them indicate that they really have stopped reading blogs altogether, in favor of the quick interactions of Instagram.
Part of me gets that. I really, really do. I love me some Instagram–LOOOOOOVE me some Instagram. I am there, like, a LOT. I don’t like the Facebook interface, and have reduced my FB “friends” to a list almost exclusively of blood relatives or friends so close that we consider them family, so I rarely do more than skim through FB to “like” their posts or leave a quippy pop-culture reference. I do not have Facebook on my phone. I DO have IG on my phone, and I get push notifications when folks like or comment a photo I post, so I spend a ton of time (probably too much, let’s be honest) updating my feed. I leave lots of hearts for my friends–usually because I like their image or am impressed with their project or because it’s a pretty picture, but sometimes because I like THEM, and want to acknowledge that. When I host Virtual Sewcials on IG, I ensure that as the host, I personally visit every photo that makes it to the pool, and leave a comment. These hearts and quick notes between IGers might not always be a deep interaction, but that doesn’t make it meaningless–I think it’s akin to a wave and a smile in the middle school hallway, as you pass in opposite directions between classes. It isn’t a long conversation, but it gives a nice glow until you get to fourth period.
My blog, on the other hand, I consider an intimate space. And I think the reason I feel hurt and confused and disappointed about the reduced number of comments I receive these days–and as embarrassing as it seems to admit it, yes, I do feel all those things when I go to the trouble of working on a post and make it live and hear crickets in the comments–is because this is where I’ve formed real relationships with people. Some of the bloggy folks I’ve known longest are people I met right here from writing–I wouldn’t know Dana or Rae if it hadn’t been for us commenting on one another’s blogs, and I feel super grateful for having met both of them in real life and growing a friendship apart from a digital interaction. There are folks who have commented on this blog for YEARS, whose names and handles and avatars I recognize when they come through, and whom I am excited to hear from when they comment again. THOSE folks are the reason, a few years ago, I started working to really reply to as many comments as I reasonably could (more so that even my email, to be honest), because I wanted them to know how much I looked forward to their voice and thoughts as I post on my blog, and how much I value that interaction.
So, if we take out of the equation those folks who really don’t love the blog interaction–for whom, in the sewing realm, the high five in the hallway carries the satisfaction they’re looking for, rather than something longer or more involved, like a blog post–then there’s still a reduction in blog comments. (To be clear: I have no issue whatsoever with folks preferring one medium over another; I love my IG interactions deeply and value those greatly, and have friends I’ve met THERE with whom I feel a deep kinship and whom I care about a great deal. I’m pointing out, rather, that many folks on IG are NOT the folks who have stopped commenting on blogs, because they weren’t anyway, since they have found an avenue of interaction elsewhere.) Which left me with the question: if there are still substantively fewer comments on sewing blogs now, and we know that Reader was part of it but not all of it, what’s the deal, yo? WHERE MY COMMENTERS AT, Y’ALL?
Reading through what all of you had to say–and THANK YOU to the many of you who took the time to share detail and thought processes and insight into how you read and why you read and what you read and what drives you to leave comments–it looks like part of the issue is YOUR PHONE. More specifically, it’s that you’re reading blogs in a mobile format that makes it more challenging and time-consuming to comment. I guess, back in the good ol’ days of 2008, we were all reading on our laptops? So when you had a thought, you could hit that keyboard and make it sing. Now, with phones and iPads and Kindle Fire, it’s just not as easy. I’m still a laptop-based reader, so that was complete news to me, totally not what I was expecting to hear. I guess the comments interface is way down at the bottom of the post? And the keyboard isn’t as accessible? And it’s hard to type with your thumbs? So there are fewer comments.
But then, why do IG readers all comment so much and so frequently? I mean, are they all using talk-to-text to write these paragraphs? I’m not. I’m just super fast with my thumbs, dog. And if we’re all so good with our thumbs, then why is it so hard to comment on blogs these days?
I think there is still a viable, thriving, fertile place for sewing blogs. I think there is some content that really must be shared in a blog format (remember the tragic rise and fall of the short-lived IG tutorial?). I am seeing new and exciting ways of sharing content–like Colette’s new magazine, Seamwork, which I think will be amazing, or Dana’s webseries, MADE Everyday–but they don’t have the built-in ability to create community and introduce folks to one another and means of hearing multiple sides of an issue. I love that blogs carry that, and miss the level of intimate–in the sense of getting-to-know-you-more-deeply-ness–connection it carried with it.
I agree STRONGLY with the folks who lament the paid content/self-promotion/list of to-do posts that we’re seeing so frequently these days. I think, if we’ve all been paying attention, that we saw that coming: be honest, you’ve known that there was a critical mass of sewing blogs the past few years, when it seemed EVERYONE had a blog and ALL of them were doing tutorials, and that ultimately there would be a large proportion that would fall prey to the Law of Diminishing Returns. At some point, there have to be too many spread too thin doing too much the same thing. And that’s natural selection at its finest: when the cream rises to the top. I can’t even tell you how much it meant to me to read several of you comment that you have stopped reading a lot of blogs, but continue to read mine–I mean, for reals, like tears and stuff over here, more than one tissue, seriously. Years ago, a dear commenter whose words always hit home left a note that said she suspected that I would be remembered more for my writing than for anything else, and it struck a chord with me. The comments last week that echoed her thought reminded me of that, and reminded me that there’s still a place for writing about sewing in a blog format, still a place for folks who’d like to get a little ping, a little email, that tells them a friend has written them a note and had the kid in the back row pass it up during Geometry. So you don’t have to wait until the bell rings to get a little high five.
And that leads me to my final question on this topic: What would it TAKE? For you to comment more regularly, for you to comment specifically from your mobile device. What would it take? Is it a formatting issue? Is it an accessibility issue? Is it just a giant lack of good content? Is it that you don’t feel responded to, don’t feel heard on the other end, and so are discouraged from taking the time? What would it take for you to comment more and more regularly? I miss the two-way street, y’all. I’d love to know if we can make it a vibrant downtown again, with busy sidewalks, rather than a vacant dead mall at the edge of the suburbs.
Posted on November 3, 2014
Remember Google Reader? Remember how much we all loved it? This was totally the way I organized my sewing blogs. This was how I kept up with friends. And when Reader went away, I had a tough time getting back on the horse.
There are some blogs I know and love and type the URL into my browser to go straight there. Others, though, I found through links or Pinterest or tips from someone else, and I saved them–to my Reader. When Reader went away, we all had the chance to export our lists, and could transfer our blogs over to another reader. Problem was, like so many folks, my Reader had gotten a little bloated, and I just had WAY too many blogs to move over. I wanted to start fresh.
We never know how great we have it until we don’t have it any more, right? I thought I was so smart! Dumping all my old list and starting from scratch! But I lost a lot of great links in the process, and I feel like I don’t see some of the really amazing things going on around the sewing blog internet now. So much of my interaction with other sewing folks has moved to Instagram, which I do adore–it’s true micro-blogging, and gives us all a chance to share a SINGLE image (no more laborious tutorials!) and get instant gratification (no more waiting for comments to appear!). But I miss the DEPTH of content I found on all those blogs, you know? The more thoughtful posts.
They’re still out there, but as someone who still writes semi-regularly, I find I have vastly fewer interactions on individual posts than I used to. I hate blogs that have turned into a zillion giveaways and product promotions, and I’ve worked hard not to have mine become that–and still, fewer people come by and leave a comment or interact than they used to. Traffic hasn’t gone down all that much–folks are still coming and LOOKING–but comments are way down, and that’s such a bummer.
There have been piles of articles written about this phenomenon, but I wonder about sewing blogs specifically. Do you think that sewing blogs are losing steam? Or are outdated? Are sewing blogs a thing of the past, and people really just want to skip from place to place and find resources without really interacting?
I’d love to hear what you think. How do you view and interact with sewing blogs these days–regularly, or as a periodic resource? And for the very few blogs that you wait longingly to see a new post on, WHAT IS IT that makes you mentally bookmark that blog, no Reader necessary, and head back again and again?
image via Authormedia
Posted on October 21, 2014
OK, so this wasn’t REALLY made for Oktoberfest, but it’s that time of year, right? Sorta? And doesn’t this skirt totally make you think of the Black Forest? It’s obviously the vintage trim that makes it feel so German…
To a certain degree, this particular version of the Get Up & Go Skirt was a design challenge. I wanted to see if, with the simplest of fabrics, I could still make this pattern look fabulous. And jubilee!! It does!!
This is an absurdly simple skirt of Kona cotton in black (the best-selling fabric of all time, I’m told). This stuff sells for something like $6 a yard almost everywhere, and you can always use a coupon. Which would take the total cost for this skirt down to around $5 if you bought your fabric on sale. (Heck, even full price plus thread it would only be around $10!)
Pairing it with a simple white cotton blouse was pretty much a no-brainer. Doesn’t get more classic than that. And this felt breezy and chic to me, but not forced. I am so not about looks that try too hard. I’d much rather feel urbane and pretty in something that’s ALSO easy to wear. Hello, elastic waist!
Now, I won’t argue with you that it’s the trim that makes the skirt. This was something I bought from a sales stall years ago, with no idea how I would use it, just the feeling that it reminded me of my super-early childhood living in Germany (we moved to the States when I was 4) and that I desperately NEEDED to have two yards of it. Which, clearly, I DID, because now it is the perfect thing to complete this skirt. It’s topstitched around the hem, with the raw ends tucked under at a seam to disguise them. So simple!
Makes me want to DANCE!
You can get a copy of the Get Up & Go Skirt, a Learn As You Sew pattern with embedded video in a tablet-friendly PDF pattern, right HERE!