Black and white and, um, pink??? yellow??? reddish??? all over

As I was starting the above title, I was naturally reminded of an old Communist era joke, what's black and white and red all over?  Pravda (the official  newspaper of the Soviet juggernaut).  And that of course brought to mind the quip that there is no news in Izvestiya and no truth in Pravda.  Tee hee.  Shows my age if nothing else.  But I digress....

Velvet trousers and lace top, accessorized with silk scarf and bass flute.
Photo by the lovely Kyoko of CorgiMark Photography 

This has been an eventful couple of months.  After an absence of two and a half years, I've returned to work, so my available sewing time and after hours stamina have both taken a huge hit.  Guess why I haven't had time to post?

Since I have to be reasonably presentable at work, I suddenly began to feel most keenly the lack of clothing that actually fits the me that I am today, 25 lbs less than a year ago (and that's after regaining quite a bit).   It's shocking how awful one looks in trousers that used to fit but now sag off  jutting hipbones and flap around skinny thighs.  Never mind all my lovely jackets that are several sizes too large - one wants to weep.  But hehey, I am svelte with a vengeance.

So I decided that this sorry situation needed to be rectified in a hurry.  Out came my Jalie trousers pattern 2908, redrafted down from my previous V to a crazy small P, and a couple of trouser-weight black wools from stash.  One, a very nice somewhat beefy twill with a little stretch actually started out grey, but such an ugly utilitarian grey that I promptly threw it into a pot with some Jacquard acid dye and turned it black, the best colour of all.  Grey, btw, is the hardest colour of all - it's never absolutely neutral, there's always some colour cast on it or another - purple, green, blue, impossible!   Add to those two a beautiful stretch poly velvet on sale at my local store, and in quick order I had three pairs of black slacks, two for work, one for my musical evenings, from the same pattern.  

Before sewing these three I made an executive decision:  no front fly on any of them, thank you.  I put a center back invisible zipper in the two work-worthy wools, and made the velvet slacks on an elastic waistband.  You can imagine how very much this simplified construction, can't you?  All feel great in wearing, and I love their smooth feminine fronts.

Photo by the lovely Kyoko of CorgiMark Photography 

The lacy top is based on the Jalie tee pattern 2805.  It's hard to see the neckline in the above photo, but I basically cut it a teeny bit wider than the pattern and then just turned the raw edge under and stitched it down with a zig zag;  I didn't want the headache of using self fabric binding (very uneven, being a stretch lace) nor a heavy binding overwhelming the lightness of the fabric.

So, an easy black and white look that can - and does - take me anywhere.

As a little teaser of what's coming, I'm working on another fun little Jalie zip jacket, pattern 2795 (zip front jacket and hoodie), out of a very funky wool knit from Emma One Sock.  I made some changes to the pattern:  basically, since I wanted to preserve the design of the knit to the utmost, I combined the centre and side pattern pieces of both front and back.  Today, I spent the afternoon prepping two front zip pockets:  first I created two narrow rectangles using silk organza, then hand stitched the zippers and trim into them.  This fabric has beautiful selvage, which I used to its utmost along the CF next to the zipper, and as trim for the pockets.  Here's what the lower fronts will look like:

Cute, right?  Before putting in the lower sleeve/side seams, I'm also going to add hidden zip pockets to the insides of these fronts.  I made one of these inner pockets - yes, just one, on the left - in the last version of this pattern I made, and  it's been invaluable.  Money, passport - close to my heart and utterly invisible and inaccessible.  Every easy wear jacket you intent to travel with needs one of those.

Working away!
:)

Pattern alteration 1: from dress slacks to yoga pants

I don't know about you all, but, when it comes to making new stuff, I always prefer to attempt a rework of a pattern I already have.  A pattern you love, you ask? well, let's say, "....one I know well enough to use repeatedly".  Trousers aka pants or slacks in North America, are one of the items for which I'm not keen on rediscovering the wheel.  In the years since I've started sewing, I've relied on three trouser patterns:

Burda 8283, an envelope pattern (in fact, it's one of my first pattern purchases)
The much-loved by many Jalie jeans
Jalie semi-fitted slacks.

That is not to say that I don't have a whole bunch of other trouser patterns in my envelope collection, not mentioning Burda magazine ones, of course.  I just haven't cracked them open.  Are you rolling your eyes? If not, you're probably being kind. That's OK, really.  Yet, I see so much grief out there in the sewing blogosphere over attempts to make this or that new trouser pattern fit one's below the waist figure.  I figure (insert titter), for reliable results, might as well stick with what works.

Most of my office trousers are based on the Burda envelope.  I've worked this one into waistlines high and low, leg wide and narrow, even one-seam.

Recently, I felt the need for some simple slacks to replace a couple I spattered with paint, so, instead of looking for an appropriate pattern, of course decided to revise my old Burda standby for stretchy stuff such as fleece or the bottom weight techno-knit I grabbed when our local store carried a couple of months ago.  I've long ago adjusted the crotch curve a little by making it more L-shaped, so there was little need for alterations to the backside fit.

The Burda 8283 pattern is a semi-fitted trouser with front zipper, waistband, and a front and back dart on each side.  It has front pockets, but since I wear jackets, I feel no need for pants pockets, and have been omitting them from the get-go.  Call me lazy.

So, to make these knits fit me a little more closely than a no-stretch woven, and have them sit on my hipbones, not waist, here's what I did:

1. narrowed front and back inseam by 1" for a narrower leg
2. shortened the bottom front crotch by 1/2" - basically just cut away a little wedge at the top of the inseam
3. narrowed the front by 3/4" - that took care of the darts - I took that out of CF, not side
4. lowered the waistline by 3/4"
5. cut a waistband 90% of the needed width (with horizontal stretch), 4" wide.  The stretchiness of the fabric means that the waistband easily eases into the trouser top without pleats for a perfectly smooth fit.
6. cut the elastic 1" shorter than waistband, and closed the loop with 1" overlap (ie, elastic band is 2" shorter than waistband).  I might note here that I sew the elastic loop closed first, then wrap the waistband around it, and sew that into the trouser top.  It's faster than insertion of the elastic into a sewn waistband.
7. shortened leg length for flat shoes

That's it, folks!

Pretty simple, eh?  Notice I didn't touch the side seam at all, nor the back.  These slacks skim but do not bind, and are totally unnoticeable in wearing.  Perfect for at home wear, exercise, anything at all....

Best of all, they're super quick to make.  Above, three recent versions: heavy olive fleece for shoveling the snow at minus 20 deg C; black poly techno-knit; and lightweight navy fleece. I made these in a two-day run a short while ago.

Here's the original Burda pattern:

Not rocket science, is it?

Which brings me to one of the best nerdy mugs in my home, my fave:

Just what part of..... don't you understand?

....it's only rocket science:

Ah, NASA... say what you may, I'm a fan of its many successes.  I watched the very first footprint being stomped into the Moon, in all its speckly, grainy, black and white glory.  And camped across from Kennedy Space Center on a winter break trip with a bunch of university buddies... then showed the very same rockets and lunar rover to my youngest, in recent years.

Last year in Kabul, I volunteered with the Afghan scouting movement.  We held a Space Derby day for the kids at our base; along with the kids, I made a little elastic-band propelled rocket, and raced it with them (they won).

Afghan girl scouts making their propeller rockets. The dude at top left was my translator.

I also created a presentation for the scouts on the exploration of the solar system.  My translator worked very hard, and the kids' eyes just glittered.  And they paid attention!  One of them asked, if there's no air on the moon, how did the astronauts survive there?  An Aha! moment if ever I heard one.

Two rockets racing on fishing line.  Note the trophies at right for fastest rocket ships.

Trolling for trousers

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I've been madly rushing my olde Kenmore to Produce, Produce... and Produce even more.

The biggest hurdle of my upcoming high hot desert wardrobe was the fact that I have NO summer slacks. None. In summer I wear dresses.  I admit to having made two pairs in lightweight black silk a couple of years ago - one dupioni, one jacquard -  and have already worn one of them literally to death.  But traipsing around China's sights during a very hot couple of weeks one September not long ago convinced me that no no matter how light, black will cook you.  They did.  Black at 44C would be hazardous to my health (and, given the wardrobe directive I'm subscribing to, I'd be correctly suspected of being mentally defective).

When pressed to the wall, I'll concede to wearing RTW tops, blouses, etc, especially in a not too sartorially demanding working environment.  But finding lightweight heat-tolerant slacks in the Great White North in December?  Methinks not.  So my most critical need was for pants, trousers, slacks.    Remember, they'll have to ride me through both winter & summer seasons, in a dirty, dusty adventure.  And I'll be sharing laundry facilities (no, I won't be doing it myself, heavens!) with 4000 likewise dirty & dusty companions.

I gave myself October to produce as many as I could.  With 6 days to go, the count stands at (HOW many?!!!) seventeen.  Count'em.  Please.  Dirty. Dusty. Wear once, then throw in the wash. 

I made the first two (that's the olive linen and brown crinkle rayon in the left column) using standard trouser technique:  darts, zipper, zipper guard, waistband.  Of course, this took some time, and I literally freaked. At that rate, I'd still be producing trousers in January! And have no time to build a proper wardrobe! EEEEK!

Now, speaking of proper wardrobe, I decided it'll have to consist of:
1. trousers: see above ;)
2a. in winter, rayon knit and merino wool tees per Jalie patterns
2b. in summer, linen, cotton, and silk crepe (yep! I love it!) sleeveless tops
3a. jackets & 3b. lightweight shirting overblouses over 2a & 2b as the obligatory long-sleeved cover-ups.
4. a few sunhats

I'll make one warm fleece jacket, and likely purchase a 3 in 1 parka (breathable rainproof & windproof shell with zip-out fleece lining jacket inside, for you out there unfamiliar with the term), if out of time to make.  

Back to my eeek moment, I switched technique to elasticated pull-ons.  Boy that really helped me put on some speed!

As things stand, two are crinkle rayon; two crinkle cotton; four stretch cotton; one a techno stretch cotton-nylon; one a linen-rayon; one an amazing lightweight linen-silk; and the rest are plain linen, in various weights.

I varied them with different degrees of relaxed fit; different pocket shapes and placements; and even added faux front zippers, cuffs, and sewn-in front & back creases to a few.  You'll have to forgive me for not boring you to tears with a pictorial of each pair on my behind, but 1. there's no time, and 2. you might just start getting the "look of the dusty day" in four months or so.  Stay tuned!

By Saturday, I felt I could afford to return to tailored shapes, and cut out four jeans-style pairs, using the jeans construction but Jalie's more relaxed trouser rather than skintight jeans overall fit, so as not to feel like a steamed sausage.  Lucky me, I already made each of these in the recent past, so I could cut, sew, and not worry about fit in the slightest.   I added large patch style cargo pockets, and pretty much finished the four over the weekend, excepting the waistbands and hems.  Exhausting, much?  Yep, it was a sweatshop here. Especially with two of them being in a check that needed to be matchy-matched.  Painful, 'twas. 

Oh, and some four others still need hemming.  If worse comes to worst, and I run out of time, I can always hem them "over there".  That's the plan.

Next up:  blouses and tanktops.  I joined Sewing on the Edge's "never too many white shirts" for that - timely, oh yea.  Impeccably timed: thank you, Barbara.

Courtesy of the internet.

 Roll on Tanktop (or is that, top of the tank?) November.