It’s a washed out day. I’m capable of only surfing and dreaming of my fantasy sewing room. My birthday is coming up and my boyfriend has been pestering me about what I want for my birthday.
Horn Gemini Last year I asked for a Horn sewing cabinet when we move into a bigger place. The bigger place didn’t materise. So neither did the sewing cabinet.
Now Horn wouldn’t be my first choice – it’s rather ugly. But I was thinking more of function than form, since sewing on my desk is breaking my shoulders and neck (too high). I wanted the 3-step airlift feature so I can hide the machine away, have it level with the desk surface, or on the desk surface to sew free arm.
Koala TreasureChest Plus lV The choices in the UK are very limited. If I were still living in America I might have considered a Koala sewing cabinet. But again, they are only marginally less ugly.
Now why can’t they make sewing cabinets that look as classy as a Pottery Barns Aris Desk?
Anyway, this year, still with no additional sewing space in sight, I’m aiming lower. Just about.
Husqvarna Designer RubyI was lusting after an embroidery machine. But a toe in the water later I’m thinking
(A) I don’t have the space for such a big beast; and
(B) I probably won’t do enough embroidery to justify the price tag.
Baby Lock Evolution So next down the list of contenders is of course a home serger. Now the idea of clean-finish seams and puckerless knit sewing sound good. But what’s been stopping me is the idea of multiple spools of threads. I already have two overspilling drawers of threads of all different colors. Most I use only once for one garment. The idea of multiplying that by 3 or 4 just doesn’t bear thinking.
Do you own a serger? Do you keep a closet full of serger threads just to match the thread to the fabrics? Are there other strategies for keeping the thread pile under control?
Maybe I should just ask for a handbag instead? }:-)
So how did I ended up with that lopsided sloper? Well, Big Bertha is to blame. She’s my Saviour and Tormentor.
World, meet Big Bertha. Big Bertha, meet the World.
Big Bertha in her everyday muslin shift. This was based on a left-right average of the lopsided sloper I showed in the previous post. And that was based on muslin draped to follow her every curves (and also half-heartedly the instruction in Draping for Fashion Design).
I had previously tried a thin jersey cover. But that was no good as it stretches everywhere. And the whole reason why a sturdy stable cover is indispensable – apart from aesthetic reasons – is because Big Bertha’s thick duct tape skin gums up all my pins. Worse still, instead of stabbing her, the pins were pushing back into my much softer cushier finger pads. So I was getting absolutely no use out of her. I needed the fabric cover to pin onto.
As for the cover above, it looks reasonable enough. But I’ve since discovered that left-right average isn’t always the best way to solve lopsidedness problem. Especially when it comes to shoulders.
Big Bertha getting raunchy…
Big Bertha naked is white duct tape wrapped onto of some old fitted T-shirt, and stuffed with toy stuffing. Silver duct tape was just too industrial on the eyes. Looks like a mummy doesn’t she.
I got my BF to wrap me up. The whole process did take a few hours as you know men can’t follow instructions! So if you make one be sure you go to the loo first. Because you’ll be stuck: can’t sit, can’t walk, and of course can’t go to the toilet.
Mine’s obviously wrapped up only to the shoulder points and down below my bum. But I’ve seen somewhere pictures of others who made a whole body from head to toes!
OK, maybe not the head. Though Leah Crain, who I bought the Duct Tape Double instructional booklet from, did have a picture of hers with a mad hatter’s display head stuck on. It was a bit creepy though. I worried I’ll frighten myself when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the loo. So headless Big Bertha shall remain. Though I do have a book on hatmaking (From the Neck Up: An Illustrated Guide to Hatmaking) and have been very tempted to get hatter’s blocks.
Big Bertha in pieces
I told her strip tease always ends in tears. But would she listen? Of course not!
So here’s Big Bertha dissected, showing the stand that is her spine.
It was the bottom part of a Rubber wood coat stand I got on E-Bay. But you can also buy it off Amazon.
I ditched the top parts and used the base which reminds me of old fashion dressmaker dummy stands.
Unfortunately it wasn’t sturdy enough. Big Bertha is denser than you can see! The joints cracked under her weight and I had to patch the joints with wood fillers. Hence the unsightly discolouration in places.
Keeping Big Bertha standing…
She has a cardboard tube running inside her for the pole to go into. But it was bigger than the coat stand pole.
So I had to wrap several layers of cardboards along the pole, kept in place with – you guessed it, more duct tape.
The screw eyes just below the torso are to control the height. Twist the eyes flat and Big Bertha’s down to my level in normal walking heels. Twist the eyes vertical, and I’d have to get out my highest stilettos to see her eyes to eyes. Except she’s got no eyes. Deliberate of course!
What the birds see…
On the top, the solid steel handle of the wooden hanger I used as her shoulder frame pokes out of her neck. It wasn’t intentional, but it actually looks rather fetching. And if you have a hang-man stand, you could hang Big Bertha from the neck. I wouldn’t do that to her of course.
Next time I make one – and it’s only a matter of when not if, given the imminent middle age spread – I think I’ll try Connie Crawford’s paper packing tape version detailed in her Patternmaking Made Easy textbook and see if that gums up less.
Big Bertha wants her vintage wannabe
dress dummy cover & she wants it now.
Although the muslin cover has worked better, it still shifts and stretches a bit. A sewer at a London Meet Up suggested using ticking fabric, more commonly used for mattresses and corsets.
I got the fabric. I even stained it with tea to give it that antiqued look.
But I just haven’t found the courage to make a simple new cover for Big Bertha. Because perfectionism stands in the way. But I’m changing that. S…l…o…w….l………y!
In keeping with latest cultural trends, next up is of course a prequel to a prequel. So, how about a survey of dress form options I considered before settling on Big Bertha?
Now, you must understand, I have two criteria for my selection:
Aesthetics & Intended Purpose
Having been artsy fartsy most of my life, and having a job that requires none, I simply couldn’t stoop down to an ugly dress form in my leisure time. But on the other hand, my job has drilled into me Function Function Function (over Form – those damn artsy fartsy creative w**ker types! ;-). So I can’t settle for pretty but useless dress forms either.
Reject Reason: Aesthetic Atrocity.
And now I find out from a Did You Make That? blog post & Connie Crawford’s Pattern Making Made Easy book another defect: gaps in places when you adjust the form to your measurements. Pros: if you sew for others, it saves you having to make & keep multiple forms. But then I’m in the Cult of Elaine (sorry Selfish Seamstress, “Cult of the Selfish Seamstress” just doesn’t have the same ring to it), so this is no cup of tea for me.
2.Professional dress form + padding out
Reject Reason: Black Art. (+ expensive!)
These are of course very aesthetically pleasing. I drooled over…
The collapsible shoulder version.
The leggy version.
The Project Runway version with bum cheeks.
(Why do sewing patterns still pretend they don’t exist? Where I work there are lots of finance / City types, and a lot of the girls look curvy yet professional in their bootylicious skirts and pants. Come on pattern companies, move with the times!)
Out of the box these are all utterly useless, not to mention expensive. And sculpting with wads of cotton batting seems like a Black Art. Fabulous Fit does have a fitting system that’s meant to speed this up somewhat. But even then it’ll take ages, if ever, to get it exactly right. So one for those genetically blessed with a standard figure & measurements. Not for me.
Reject Reason: … actually I had one of these long time ago.
This one you get a form roughly your size plus. You fit the skin-tight cover on yourself (with a pair of extra hands of course). Then the cover reins in the extra bulk. So theoretically this should be perfectly you. But it does have ugly legs. And it’s not exactly cheap either.
And you really need a dress-maker friend whose hands you’ll be borrowing. BFs and hubbies probably won’t do. (Mine is long gone, abandoned across the pond. Which is just as well since I’ve gained a few pounds and a couple of pattern sizes crossing the pond.)
The process is just too messy, complicated, and time-consuming. I simply don’t have the patience to watch papier mâché dry!
You have to cast a mould first using plaster tape. I read in a Thread article some poor woman ended up overheating and fainted – plaster supposedly release heat when drying. So unless you’re quick with the moulding…keep the smelling salt at the ready.
And after all that you still have to build up your form in sections, then glue them together (see picture above)…See what I meant by mucking about?
Reject Reason: My days of getting high on fume are also over.
The end result does look quite good. But again, the process is messy, and presumably also fummy.
Again you have to cast a mould first using plaster tape. But then instead of using papier mâché, you pour this expanding liquid polyurethane foam into your cast. I can smell the toxic fume already!
This is similar process to making a Duct Tape Double, but you’re using paper packing tape. The one shown is the type that you have to dampen to make it stick. I don’t know how strong that would be, so how form-fitting you can make it. But presumably there’ll be no sticky pins problem pinning into this.
But my main gripe is with the Armadillo look. Presumably the tape isn’t very flexible, so the edges sticks out where your body curves away. So No! on aesthetic ground.
Having said that…I just discovered a variation of the paper tape dress form that I might try next time, which is:
Not yet a Reject:
Connie Crawford’s hybrid paper tape dress form
Non-Reject Reason: I don’t want gummy pins.
This I found in my copy of her Pattern Making Made Easy book. The end results looks decent enough. I’m hoping paper tape won’t leave sticky residues on my pins, and will be easier to stick into than Big Bertha’s thick skin. Here’s a DVD sample on YouTube:
And some picture of the end result from the book…
But for now, Big Bertha will do.
I’ve invested too much to give her up. She’s my girl, thick skin and all.
So of course as soon as I finished tracing out the pattern for Le Trench London weather turns too cold to wear trench. God has a very wicked sense of humor. I’m now considering putting Le Trench on the back burner and go for a full-on cozy cape or coat.
I got four less precious coat-weight fabrics and also two astronomically expensive cashmere. With my current state of slightly dodgy sewing skill and even worse fitting skill I think the cashmere will be safely tucked away for another year or two. So here are the candidates:
50ish Cape…
I quite like this 50ish cape from Burda Style 2011-08. I got a rusty colored coating fabric I my Mom gave me which I think would work well. I can just picture this with one of my classic golden brooches. Mmmm…
Unfortunately there’s only 1-7/8 yards of this fabric, so even this short cape would be pushing my luck a bit. But as this fabric is stiff as cardboard, I’m hoping I can skip the facings in self-fabric and instead go for a thick lining fabric instead.
I also quite like the rather structural shape of Vogue 8548 coat. I like view A’s retro feel, but am not sure about 3/4 sleeves for a coat. I get too cold in the winter to wear shorter sleeves, and long sleeves poking out is going to ruin the look. You need a pair of elegant, slim-fitting gloves to complete that look. So maybe view B would be better, if more boring.
Fabric-wise, well, there’s brown or brown or brown!
See what I mean about buying more of the same? 😉
OK, they’re slightly different weights. The left one is definitely coat weight. But I have just over 3 yards of this and it seems a waste to use it on this pattern that only needs 2-1/8 yards. The one in the middle I also have just over 3 yards. The one on the right is closest at 2-5/8 yard, but it’s a thinner fabric probably more suitable for a thick jacket. Urgh, decisions decisions decisions?
Le Trench had hit a hitch. I was concentrating so hard that my tracing wheel broke under the strain. So, fine, I finally placed an order online for a new one – no, I can’t find any locally. But days later, still no package. Luckily, while stewing over what to do next and starting on homemade shoulder pads for Le Trench, I stumbled across a sneaky back up tracing wheel hiding in the back of a sewing bits & bobs drawer. So tracing will commence again tomorrow.
And also in the meanwhile, I’m suffering a Fabricholic’s worst nightmare: The Battle of the Moths. My walls are covered with Mama & Papa moths’ blood stains. And the freezer too has been taken over by clothing in an attempt to exterminate those pesky Baby moths. I haven’t gotten around to the fabrics just yet. I’m praying that the boxes they’re in protect them to a better extent than my closet, which has curtains instead of doors because London apartments simply don’t have enough space for outward opening closet doors.
And here’s the load I’m fighting for. You think I’m kidding when I say 191 fabrics and counting? Ha! Here’s the proof: pages after pages of swatches. And that’s not including the latest load. (And what I might just order from Tia Knight any day now.)
The swatch books was an attempt to get on top of the fabrics. I thought if I can carry swatches of what I have with me when I go fabric shopping, then I’ll be less likely to end up with more of the same. There’s only so many washed out pastel habutoi a girl needs.
That it did help a bit. But so far no luck matchmaking fabrics to patterns, and the expectant piles of fab clothing yet. Not even after I’ve measured & noted how much I have of everything. I’ve given up identifying fibers. Like many others I have no luck with the burn tests. And as I have a reputation for burning pots & kettles, I thought it safer to keep away from boxes of matches.
On the rare occasions I did find a match for a pattern, it was also getting hard to keep track of which box the candidate slept in. So eventually I numbered all the boxes (and trunk), and noted the number on the swatches.
My 26 boxes + 1 trunk of catalogued fabrics. Not including the latest uncatalogued pile…
Fabricholic Heaven
At least the moths and I have something in common: An obsession with fabrics. I’ll probably come back in the next life as a moth for all the moths I’ve just killed.
And when I get swatted, please send me to this heaven, with all expenses paid & unlimited fabric budget of course!