Goodbye Vice-Chancellor (in my blue lace dress)

When an invitation to a formal event arrives in the post, my first thoughts quite naturally turn to oh-my-goodness-whatever-will-I-wear. I am one of those 'keep it simple' kind of gals, and my wardrobe has been kept deliberately spare. I have never been able to wear bold prints or blousy florals, and I so often seem to gravitate toward block colours of black or red.

But lately I have discovered that I can wear lace with reasonably good effect, and so when the invitation to attend my University's grand farewell to our long-serving Vice-Chancellor [President or Rector, to those in the UK or US respectively], I dismissed the boutique-de-frock and went searching for lacy fabric instead.

The blue was a considered choice spanning two trips to my local Spotlight store over the course of a week. With time getting down to the wire I landed back there on my way home from work on Wednesday and decided that it would likely do as not. Imagine my joy at the checkout to discover that the price had been reduced by 75% by deem of a mega-sale, and that pretty blue lace had serendipitously become more than ridiculously reasonable.

I had cut a pattern from a mesh sheath in my staple wardrobe, and fudged the hemline so that I was able to take advantage of the scalloped hemline. These things are so quick and simple to whip together using a rolled-hem on the overlocker [serger], and if not for my decision to add a border of flower motifs around the neckline, it would have been an evening's work. As it was, the neckline bit got a bit tricky, and getting it to all sit nicely nearly had me in a lather! I downed needle in just under two hours before it was time to slip into my dress and buckle up my shoes. But I did really feel quite lovely with my little home-made lacy number over a black ruffled-hem dress. Too easy!

And it was a truly wonderful evening spent with colleagues with whom I am the very best of friends; catching up with University chums of old, sharing memories, reminiscing, enjoying a rolling collage of photographs that document a long and prosperous chapter in the life of our Institution. And of course, commemorating the incredible contribution of a gifted, dedicated, warm and generous woman. She will be well-remembered, and remembered-well.  Goodbye, farewell, Professor Reid, I have loved you well.


Evie
xxx

Lizette, the vintage French mannequin

Let me introduce you to my darling Lizette, the newest addition to the House of StitchityBits. She is a vintage French mannequin (apparently), or that is what the seller told me. I'm happy to go with that. Hey, she even came with free pins stuck into her neck.

She is going to help me with future Regency gown-making efforts, but rather than leave her naked just now, I thought I would drape her with my beautiful antique Honiton Tape Lace Collar, thereby showing both to good advantage.

Honiton lace making has a long history, originating in the East Devon district in England during the 17th century. The majority of this style of lace was produced by hand in the town of Honiton, and it was highly sought after by the titled and wealthy. It was even worn by Queen Victoria. You can read more about Honiton lace on A Textile Lovers Diary or on The Textile Blog.

Mr P procured this piece for me some years ago from Bernadette Thomas of Needlewitch, and it forms a treasured part of my *small* antique sewing and textile collection.

But back to my mannequin. Having checked out her fittings and fixtures, I would think she is post-1950s. The three-pronged metal stand is somewhat pedestrian, and the metal cap atop the neck makes her more industrial than her wooden-peg top counterparts. There are a few minor stains around one side of the chest and shoulder region, but other than that she is in quite good condition. I will have to pad out her out a bit here and there to bring her up to my dress size, but her main purpose will be to make it easier to drape and pin the sheer muslins, organzas and lace trims used in reproduction costuming.

Here, Lizette wears the Regency petticoat with boned bodice, one of the garments included in the La Mode Bagatelle pattern range. It is a simple lawn under-dress, devoid of any embellishment. But the gowns that go over the top can be anything from sheer muslin for day wear, through to extravagant silk and lace for evening or ball gowns. I have been adding some Regency gown inspiration on Pinterest lately (and some garments for the gentlemen also), and I now have a head literally swarming with grand designs:

"Oh! my dear," continued Mrs. Bennet, "I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! and his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw any thing more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's gown——". [Pride and Prejudice: A novel in three volumes., Austen, Jane. Published by T. Egerton, London, 1813.]

I seriously wish that I didn't have to sleep, such is the width and depth and breadth of all that I want to create. Lace, or no lace!

Which I have started collecting ...

... in anticipation of stitching gowns, and petticoats ...

and trimming bonnets ...

with feathers ...

 

 

and brightly coloured things.

I never did grow out of dressing-up and playing with dolls. :)

I believe that Lizette has taken on a persona of her own. When she arrived in the back of the car, I flung open the door and ran out to hug her. It was love at first sight. She has taken up residence in the spare room for now, and I occasionally peek in at the door to relive the feeling of delight.

Bienvenue sur votre nouveau Lizette maison.

Evie
x  x  x 

Red Red and the Fair Ground Cushions

Were there any colour that I could be

I think it would be red for me.

I have given up hope of ever having beautiful, expensive furnishings in my living room. Boys will be boys, and dogs will be dogs, and cushions will be thrown on the floor for watching TV, lounging about and rumbling with said dog. So I have come up with a workable solution: European pillows! Covered with sturdy red and white stripey cotton drill, they remind me of  childhood fair grounds; the laughing clowns, pony rides, fairy floss and ice cream cones! 

 

French seam: 

n. a seam in which the edges are not visible [Collins English Dictionary]

I don't think that really explains it ...

 

French seam:

n. a seam stitched on both sides of the cloth.

 [Websters College Dictionary]

And that's just ambiguous ...

 

French seam:

n. A seam stitched first on the right side and then turned in and stitched on the wrong side so that the raw edges are enclosed in the seam. [The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language]

Now that makes more sense.

French seams are a wonderful way to finish off even simple, homely things. I love French seams. Raw edges are fully enclosed, meaning that they not only be hard-wearing and durable, but they will look neat and tidy forever.

And while we're talking neat-and-tidy, I thought I'd try the covered zipper end tutorial, posted by Julia on the Craftsy Blog last week. I've stitched in lots of zippers before, but it's still something that I usually dread. However, this method was super-easy, and it certainly is very neat and tidy. I only needed to hand stitch the covered zip end to the side seam to finish it properly :)

I've made a couple of these now. They're nice and comfy, easy to whip into the wash, and I reckon they look pretty snappy. I can't explain why, but red just seems to make me happy. :)

Evie :)

Regency Regalia (going to the Ball)

It’s been such a busy month here, and with my sewing sphere on the ascendant in the house of Stitchitybits, I haven’t had headspace to even think about documenting the chaos. But now that the rush is over I am finally sitting down to make a retrospective list of achievements. In the midst of juggling family commitments and the interspersed peckings at housework-never-done, I so often feel like a big fat underachiever (aspirations consistently unfulfilled). But this month my list is BIG, and the state of my household tangle well demonstrates the magnitude of my makings! The thing that has really pushed me off my comfy chair and into the sewing room has been the production of Regency era garments for the inaugural Regency Subscription Ball, held at the iconic Paragon in Katoomba. This was (I think) the first of many events oganised by my very talented friend, Lorna McKenzie from TheTailor’s Apprentice.

The females of my establishment, and many of my significant-others, are all Jane-ites [Austen, that is]. Many a school holiday was spent tucked up on the sofa consuming Lizzy and Mr Darcy et al, drinking pots of tea, and quietly stitching. And our affections have not been limited to the iconic P&P. Not only have the Austen classics been read and re-read with fervor, but works by the sisters Bronte, Mrs Gaskill and others have been well-thumbed by the bonnet-drama damsels. From time to time we have toyed with the notion of attending the Jane Austen Festival events that are held throughout the year in Canberra, but have generally been prevented by, among other things, the lack of a suitable wardrobe!

It was in a moment of excited whimsy that I pounced on tickets for Lorna’s Regency Ball, knowing that there is nothing like a deadline for producing results.  As with most things, I had good and great intentions of starting this body of work in a timely way. It turns out that I obviously work better under pressure. Thus, the latter part of the month of September was [quite delightfully] fraught and frenzied in the pursuit of something to wear. 

In anticipation of one day making it to the aforementioned Jane Austen Festival, my dear Pollyanna had procured a set of La Mode Bagatelle Regency dress patterns (she is a Jane-ite also). The patterns include several different styles of dress, including a bodiced petticoat, a gown with two bodice options and optional train, chemisette, false sleeves, spencer, beret, muff and reticule. Sounds good . . . The work of deciphering which styles were most suitable, and the configuration of undergarments and underpinnings and the difference between fabrics for day-dresses vs those used for evening gowns was the work of an entire day.  Polly undertook much of the prep work herself; tracing off pattern pieces and working out what went with what. I actually found it a bit hard to dive back in to dressmaking, having to challenge my left brain to talk to the right and vice-versa.  The ease with which I could once understand the ins and outs of a pattern, and conceptualise all of the steps involved seems to have diminished just a *little*, whether through something-to-do-with-my-age, or just plain old lack of use! 

But I got there in the end. The first garment off the production line was the Regency petticoat; a bodice top with drawstring neckline, sporting several rows of boning to (hopefully) support the bust, and a shaped skirt with front, back and side panels. Sizing for the bodice was a bit tricky (the DD isn't included in the smaller sizes), and despite being hopeful, yet not entirely confident, that my ample bits would fit inside, I pressed on. But I was right. My ample bits were overly-ample in the end. But it was perfect for my Anna-Lou, and made a welcome beginning for her own Regency garb.

So I went back to work and re-drafted the bodice front, adding an extra inch and a half to the depth across the bust and grading it up to meet the back section. I had a good length of pretty hail-spot voile tucked away in the cupboard (serendipity), and I teamed this with a lovely, soft self-stripe cotton to complete petticoat v.2.  Which actually looks good enough to wear as a day dress.

Starting to taste the success, I then moved on to the main course; a Regency ball gown. Again, I re-drafted the front bodice pieces to add *ample* depth to the bust sections. And then I was into swathes of delustered satin and the (slightly) expensive trimmed net lace.  The dress consists of a cross-over bodice with inset sleeves. I used a lace overlay on the front and back sections, and cut the sleeves just using the satin. The shaping on the sleeves appears very strange at first, and not at all like modern garment designs. Most of the ease is allowed in the back portion of the sleeve, which does allow for some exaggeration of arm movement in the finished garment. The sleeve that I chose to use has pleats from just below the shoulder and running around the back edge. There are also a number of pleats around the mid-section of the arm, covered by a separate arm band. The main skirt uses the shaped-skirt pattern pieces from the petticoat, but the lace overlay is cut using the round-gown pattern. I cut the lace in one straight piece, placing the hem of the skirt along the scalloped lace edge. This was then gathered and placed over the completed satin skirt. The skirt and bodice are then joined together, and the back opening is closed using hooks and eyes. And it was a perfect fit. :)

Time was really ticking by this point, and I still had a flouncy shirt and a gentleman’s vest to make (two days to b.day). *And I still hadn’t worked out what to do with my hair!!* The shirt is cut from off-white voile, giving it an ever-so-slightly-aged look. It did turn out beautifully, but is absolutely voluminous, and not a pleasant garment to iron, what with all its gathers and frilly bits. Love these gargoyle buttons by the way.

I used a very basic long vest pattern instead of the more tailored and shaped Regency style. Mostly, because I knew I would be running out of hours to do much more. This $5 piece of remnant furnishing fabric was just the ticket, and my Mister and me were inadvertently so very nicely matchy-matchy.  

In the middle of all the shirt and vest sewing I also re-worked the hail-spot petticoat to make it into a suitable gown for Anna-Lou. She did conceive high hopes of sewing a gown herself, but time, the eternal enemy, and the fact that I was hogging the sewing machine, prevented any such scheme. So I cut simple sleeves from one of the pattern’s sleeve options, and stitched them into the already completed petticoat. The skirt was embellished with several rows of pin-tucks, and sweet little grosgrain bows were placed on the waist band in line with the front bodice seams. Then it was hooks and eyes, and eyes and hooks all of Saturday morning and into the early afternoon.

In my final frenzied flurry I cut a strip of russet crushed silk and sewed it into a long band. Using my trusty foam head, I wrapped it around and pinned it together, shaping the remainder into ruched pleats. Then it was quickly hand-stitched to hold it all in place and finished with some remnant feathers from my old feather-duster and embellished with a pretty pearl brooch. I think I have encased more than one pin within the folds, which just made me brave in wearing it.

Another piece of silk, quickly cut into a bag-like shape, was whizzed around on the sewing machine, threaded through with a cord and prettied-up with a flower and a bow.

All this by 4:15pm on Saturday. I’m sure that no Regency lady headed for a ball would ever have managed a hasty 20-minute stint in the dressing room, but there we were, dressed and primped and powdered, and ready for stepping out (though I had lost my petticoat in pursuit of Anna's gown *blush*). 

It was certainly a night to remember. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves (Mrs Bennett would be proud); the assembly rooms were resplendent, our dance cards were full, the dinner was excellent, and the company unsurpassed!

There are some wonderful photos and a description of the event on Lorna's blog  - Head on over and have a read (and see if you can spot me and mine). 

And now it's back to my socks!

Evie xxx

Sing a song of Singer

I have been thinking about the life this lovely old Singer must have led. She is a similar vintage to the treadle that belonged to my Grandmother, and though the design detail on the cabinet drawers is different, so many elements appear from memory to be just the same. She (this Singer, this Songbird) is currently residing in my downstairs lounge room, where I catch regular glimpses of her simple yet beautiful form.

Singer 15-30

This is a family heirloom, though not strictly originating from my own family, and therefore I am feeling much-honoured to have been gifted Dame Singer, Queen of the Needle for safekeeping hereafter. She has for so many years resided with Marg, mother of my darling friend Jo, and before that she belonged to great Aunty Mickie, and possibly to Jo's great-grandmother before that.

How well her accoutrements have been kept and preserved; the hand-crafted box with multiple and varied attachments, all still accounted for and intact. The instruction booklet, published in 1896, is, as you would expect, slightly dog-eared and folded within a drawer. There are also numerous vintage boxes and tins filled with bakelite buttons, cards of press-studs and old hooks and eyes.

 

 

It is almost a time-capsule; a little museum all on its own. Aged packets of needles and wooden spools of thread sit all a-jumble in drawers, with scissors and spanner and awl.

I am transported to childhood moments each time I look into the room; watching my Mama's feet plying the treadle, while long small fingers pick and sort the treasures within her black tin button box.

I remember the year that I turned five, receiving a bulky package of dolly dresses for Christmas. Fully eight sets of clothes, complete with petticoats and knickers, bonnets and slips. Each matching set trimmed with narrow lace, some with pin tucks or frills. Pink, yellow, white, blue; miniature florals or delicate filmy fabrics. Such a gift no impish five-year-old ever deserved! Twelve days after Christmas my Mama had a heart attack in her well-tended garden and her treadle moved no more. My strongest memories of her were forged amid the tangle of the sewing-room floor. She was ever-resourceful; a true make-do-and-mend woman. Intensely practical, highly creative and productive. She would whip up a stuffed rag-doll and fashion a cardboard-box cradle while you visited for the day. She would cut thick rounds of white tank-loaf bread and smother them with slabs of yellow butter, and turn you into the wilds of the back garden to dig in the dirt or to run along the stone-lined paths.

Mama's old machine was eventually disposed of, along with many other pedestrian household contents. I think I have missed it ever since. How very blessed I feel to have welcomed Aunty Mickie's old Singer into the heart of my home. I wonder how many children were clothed by the threshing of her treadle; how many seams she seamed, how many rips were mended. Her stitches would have been fine and even; something to behold.

I will have her looked at by a man who knows about the workings of these things, and will anticipate threading her up for stitching again. But for now I am content to rest my eyes upon her ebony skin and happily remember.

x x x

I am sure that the joy of creating was forged during my foundational years. Being fully immersed in imaginative play with scraps of fabric, making rubbishy dolls clothes from the hoard of remnants in the cupboard; playing with bits of lace and braid, ribbon and string. I loved cutting out with those incredibly fun pinking shears, making zig zags all along the edges. Cardboard boxes were made into cubby houses, paper was cut into shapes and stuck all over the place with glue. I was a texta-freak; they were so much more colourful and instantaneous compared to the boring old pencils with broken leads. It's the thing I most value about my childhood; materials supplied, permission granted, encouragement received. Go forth and make. How about you?

Evie

x x x

Sewing like a mad woman and the broochy GIVEAWAY!!

So I'm really getting into this baby quilt now. After weeks [maybe months] of procrastinating I think I've finally hit my stride. I have planned to do 35 blocks (5 x 7 rows), but now I'm wondering whether that will make the finished quilt a bit too big. If I was a planner (which I'm not), I would have worked all of this out already, but I mostly avoid numbers if I can. Not that I can't do numbers, but it's just not how I tend to work. Anyway, I'm never terribly good at making decisions, so I'm just going to keep stitching up a storm and see how it's looking when I get to the 25-blocks mark. And I'm sorry about the rubbish photos. I *lost* my camera somewhere last year, and have temporarily replaced it with a $69.00 point-and-click 14mega-pixel digital, which clearly isn't doing the job as well as I'd like. But perhaps it's me and not the camera. Another thing I should read up on ...

Anyhoo, I have decided to make this a quilt-as-you-go job [note: I made a decision about something]. My days of tacking up big quilt tops and then trying to wrangle them under the machine are pretty much over. I am finding sitting at the machine, even for these easy blocks, is playing havoc with my dodgy back and my other failing body parts. I really do infinitely prefer the gentle rhythm of hand-work, but time is pressing, and so I am pretending that the machine is my best friend at the moment. I have been working on setting goals (thank you for your advice and encouragement JE), and now I am feeling on top of the quilt, instead of feeling as though the quilt were on top of me!!

x x x x x

And as well as all that, I have lately been reflecting on the whole *time* thing [as have numbers of people in my sphere]. I wonder whether women in generations past felt the pressures of life in the same ways that we do? Perhaps when roles were more defined, and social mores were unvaryingly prescriptive; when there was limited (or no) choice, the strictures of daily life meant that routines were adhered to and the boundaries made safe. Monday was wash day, Tuesday was ironing day, Wednesday was sewing day, and so it went on. There was no expectation that you could pack more into your hours than was considered appropriate for the day. Well, that's my thinking anyway [I have been known to be wrong before].

But since I left full-time *paid* employment a number of years ago, and my small kidlets have grown into big ones, I think I have let go the rhythms and routines that keep one on the straight and narrow. And in having more time, I now realise that I have not been using it all that well. Tomorrow I am doing a one-day seminar on "Tools for Personal Productivity", or something like that. It's at "work" (I am still a part-timer 'cos it helps to pay the bills), but I can see this as being very "timely" for my home life/sewing/knitting/everything else life as well! I have always been a bit of a listmaker, but it feels like I'm ready for a change of focus in how I approach the use of my time. Will keep you posted on this one. Maybe you could share your tips as well? It's always good to hear how other people manage to try and juggle all the balls at once and gives food for thought and contemplation!

Now my other reason for posting is that I want to remind you about my little brooch GIVEAWAY!!!

I'm out here in Stitchitybits-land because I need somewhere to share what I'm doing and what I'm making and what I'm thinking, and I'd really welcome some feedback about what it's like for you as well. So please, if you could leave a comment here on the blog, or head over to facebook and like my page, I'll add your name to my little list and on Sunday afternoon Watson and I will draw a winner for this pretty brooch by the talented Alexandra Callow.

In the meantime, I'm really hoping the ye-olde-laptop doesn't completely pack it in. It's been getting the jitters a bit in the last few weeks, and yesterday it had a complete meltdown. I think the interwebs gods must have taken pity on me, because it's back on deck today, good as gold. Otherwise, I will have to resort to le-iPad, and that just isn't the same for this 'ol gal.

If you leave me a comment, I will always reply.

Love love,

Evie xxx

Mending poor Bunny

Poor Bunny has been languishing in my mending basket with a very bad broken arm for years. Really, years and years. Probably five at least. Which tells you a lot about what a big priority mending is. I don't know why, but this afternoon I took pity on him, what with his severed arm and all that.

The vintage button tin was first stop in our quest to reinstate Bunny's limb, followed by a length of good strong hemp and that dangerously long doll-making needle that is safely stored in the drawer with other sharp-edged sewing tools. I love this natural hemp fibre, so strong, so earthy; redolent of brown paper packages tied up with string ...

And it really only took a very little while to stitch Bunny's arm back in place. With buttons and string and a very long needle and just a *bit* of apologetic love.

See, all better now.

Good as new!!  The man-child has long outgrown having Bunny on his bed, so I am thinking he may have to take up residence in my chair for a bit, just to make up for all of those lonely lost years.

Bunny must be ten years old at the very least, possibly older. He was cobbled together with cotton drill fabric found in a second-hand shop, and some hand-me-down fabrics pulled from my patchwork stash. The pattern was an early design from Sandra Paull of Sun Valley Primitives.

 [You can visit her Etsy Store here]

I'm kind of pleased that Bunny is back out of the basket. And I secretly think that he is too. Oh, what's that Bunny? Pipe and slippers and a pot of tea in order?? Seems he has also got his voice back. This could just get out of hand . . .

Yours in redemption,

Evie xxx