Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Mouse

Child's Plush Toy Inspired by Childhood Drawing Drawn by Person Prone to Childish Tantrums During Sewing Projects


Oh, that Martha Stewart. I can tell by the general tension that surrounds her that she is, despite her flawless persona, a fellow angry seamstress. Someone on her staff posted a brilliant idea on marthastewart.com to sew children's toys inspired by their drawings. Even though my future child is the daughter of an artist who could out-draw most adults by the time he was four, current technology prevents me from obtaining any creative output from her just yet. So I found the next best thing: a drawing I did at the age of three, “Mouse.”

As you can see in the picture, “Mouse” has a very large belly button, a mustache (or is it teeth?), and a couple dozen legs (or is that just long hair?), which I think makes him the ideal candidate for this project.

Martha recommends that her minions cut out the child’s actual drawing and use the pieces for their patterns. This proves that Martha is neither sentimental nor humane. A better idea is to make a photo copy of the drawing, trace it with a Sharpie marker, enlarge it on the copying machine, and make a pattern.

Now to choose the fabric...

Friday, June 4, 2010

Fabrich


My Granny's double knit fabric (recently rescued from my cousin's attic) washed and folded OCD style.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Recent Internet Buys


Summer 2009 Sun Dress

Home EcoChronics


Or – the class in which I am grouped with all the alternative school kids

The Home Economics class I took during my sophomore year of high school was divided into two parts: cooking and sewing (if there was an Economics segment of the class, I haven’t the faintest memory of it). For the cooking segment, the class was divided into groups.

Perhaps I was a little bit gangsta. Or perhaps the teacher thought I would be the serious, responsible one, but I was grouped with the most stoned and underachieving of the flunkies. If S.E. Hinton were writing the script for my Home Economics class, these guys (yes, I was the only female in the group) would be the Greasers. If they blew off the regular high school courses, you can imagine their attitudes towards an elective like Home Ec.. So my memories about the cooking segment of the class are best forgotten.

But Home Economics is where I really learned to sew. I learned how to operate a real, live electric sewing machine, how to make a button hole, a new definition of “darn”, how to adjust tension, etcetera. And for our final project – while most of the other girls were making boxer short pajamas out of Looney Tunes fabric- I made the most excellent pair of velour leopard print lounge pants. And those pants are what I consider to be my first official sewing accomplishment. My second official sewing project (created during my free time at home) was a sock monkey. I personalized him with a gold earring, gold chain, and velour leopard print vest. He was Pimp Monkey. And I was a little bit gangsta.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Slowly Sewing Insane


Growing up as an only child out in the country, I spent countless hours in the back bedroom of my paternal grandmother’s house (she was my closest neighbor) watching her pump away on her vintage Singer sewing machine. Unlike gardening, canning, barn painting, and tending to the chickens, sewing was a wintertime activity. The back bedroom closet was full of quilting squares, patterns, material, buttons, and batting.

Throughout her marriage, she sewed most of the family’s clothing. In addition to outfits for her three sons, she made house dresses and summer bonnets, dabbled in embroidery, repaired the floppy necks of teddy bears, mended and altered dresses, and once – her own skin after she cut her hand.

At least once a year, when her project outgrew the back bedroom, a wooden quilting frame was stretched across the living room where, during her free time between house chores, she’d meticulously mark and stitch her masterpiece. My younger cousin and I found this to be the most glorious fort and hiding place. Granny found it to be one of the most nerve-wracking times of the year. Between my grandfather’s nightly news and Wheel of Fortune TV time and our careless, grimy fingertips, the newborn pristine quilt was in a constant state of peril, and Granny didn’t forget it for a second. Yet, she was patient.

She was fastidious, certifiably tidy, and more than a little obsessive, but she was patient. And while I inherited her deep sense of satisfaction from a freshly scrubbed counter, a carefully organized cabinet, or a perfectly stacked pile of magazines, patience during sewing projects is one that passed me by. While I was busy sneaking her disappearing ink fabric pen and cutting my My Little Pony’s hair with her pinking shears, I should have been paying attention to exactly how she pulled all of this off. But alas, my sewing endeavors involve a great amount of cursing, the occasional throwing of objects, and a few secretive-as-I-can-manage temper tantrums. This is the world of The Angry Seamstress, where I learn to take deep breaths and manage my frustration along with how to do smocking and thread the machine without assistance.