Where do you buy fabric?

I open up my email Thursday morning at the crack of 5:00 and there’s a message from Denver Fabrics saying that they’re having a sale on knit fabrics for 97 cents/yard.  “What?!” I say.  “Must needs be rearranging my day.” 

So I did what I needed to do around the old homestead by 8:45 and I packed up Noah and we headed out.  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I found.  This fabric is ridiculously nice.  Ridiculously.  And there was tons of it.  Some lady even found some wool jersey.  All told, I walked away with 11 yards for $11.46.  It was a happy day.

As things were being cut, I was talking to one of the employees and marveling at the quality of this fabric.  She told me that they buy it (and most of their fabric) from designer workrooms where the fabric, having served whatever it’s purpose was originally is typically discarded or treated very ill indeed.  These fabrics, for instance, though of lovely quality (can you tell how excited I am about this stuff?) had random stickers heartlessly masking taped to them, and the tubes they were on were all broken in the middle from being tossed about and packed away all smooshed up in boxes and so forth.  This was all very interesting and enlightening when one considers buying fabric.

If you think about big box stores and the fabric available to purchase there, their business model is quite different than a place like Denver Fabrics.  They are having fabric directly manufactured for them (note below),

so I would guess that the quality of the fabric being made for them is lower so that they can artificially inflate the price so that they make the most money.  In markets where they are the only fabric store in town (and there are many around the country), who’s the wiser?  So they get away with it.  I won’t just randomly accuse JoAnn of having basement-quality fabric for boutique prices, so I’ll speak from my own example (I feel like when I’ve strolled through Hancock’s things seem to be a little nicer, but I don’t buy fabric there because my local Hancock’s is populated by grumpy employees who are always trying to sell me things I don’t want, like spray starch).

Below is my Frankenpattern creation that I made for the mini-wardrobe contest at PR in April.  It’s made from rayon lycra jersey I purchased at JoAnn for no less than $12.99/yd (you better believe I used a coupon).  It has sustained only 4 trips through the washing machine, and I wish that my camera would all you to see that it has already lost quite a bit of its original color and it’s covered in a whole lot of pilling.  I won’t mention how horrible this stuff was to sew with.  While pressing my bodice through no less than 2 layers of silk organza, the fabric got permanent shine marks on it.  Every stitch pulled out of it on Gnomey, and my serger had a hard time gripping it too.  Actually, quite a bit of my serger stitches have undone themselves through the wash.  I saw a lady eyeing it on the bolts the last time there was a big pattern sale, and I wanted to tell her to run away.

To contrast, here is a maternity dress that I made with fabric that I bought at Denver Fabrics (clearly, it’s too big for me ).  Anyone who has been pregnant knows how much torture your clothes go through as you grow, so knowing that this dress has been through the wash no less than 20 times and trucked with me through big, bigger, and biggest, I’m pretty impressed at how good it still looks, especially considering that my skills as a sewer had considerably increased by the time I got to that rayon shirt above.

What are my conclusions?  Well, if you live in a city where you have access to a fabric store that buys from designers, go there.  You’ll probably get better prices, and if you don’t get better prices, you’ll at least probably get better quality.  If you don’t live in such a place, find some of these stores online.  There’s tons of places that will send you swatches, and plenty of those will send you swatches for free.  Vogue Patterns Magazine and Threads list websites in every issue.  If you hang around the Patternreview boards for any length of time, you’ll find out places that you can shop online, too.  Look for unusual sources of good fabric.  You’d be surprised what you can find in grandmothers’ closets and at estate sales or in thrift stores.  It takes more time than going to a sanitized big box store, perhaps, but fabric finding is treasure hunting at it’s best, no?  Life is too short, and sewing time is too precious to be using fabric that will shred to pieces and sabotage your construction.  I have said my peace.  What say you, dear readers?

Super soft

Sorry for being MIA (and for this awful picture–I think my camera is dyyyying).  We got home this weekend from my in-laws’ in super-Northern CA where we were able to escape the hottest week of the year.  Knowing that it would be significantly cooler at my in-laws’, I thought I’d reach into my stash for a warmer bit of knit fabric I’ve been holding onto for a quick project before we left.

I found this lovely super soft rayon (I think there’s some poly in it, but this is my best guess.  I do know there’s no lycra.) rib knit at Denver Fabrics a couple of weeks ago, and I knew it would make a really comfy version of Simplicity 2369.  I love the color on its own, and in the fall, when my hair naturally gets redder, I think it’ll be a great color on me.  

The fabric did sew up so nicely in the serger, too, and it was strong enough to withstand removing my serging when I sewed the side seams in the wrong layering (oops). 

Simplicity 2369 version 2.0

What I learned:

Twin needling: I finally mustered up the courage to mess around with my twin needle.  I helped myself out by running a line of SewKeysE interfacing in the hems, so it was easy to fold over and go to town.  My tension isn’t perfect, but I can definitely see the value of a twin needle.  Much more experimentation will follow I imagine.

Removing serger stitches:  I’ve known how to do this since I took Understanding Knits with Sarah Veblen at PR a while back, but I’ll share because it’s so useful.  Like magic really.

Modesty panels:  I love this cheat.  When I started sewing for myself, I vowed to rid myself of my dependence on camisoles to save low cut garments from the trash bin.  Typically, I just raise center front; however, on a wrap top like this, it is difficult to raise CF high enough without losing the original style lines of the garment.  A modesty panel is a good alternative in these situations.  Since I was using contrasting fabric that was a bulkier cotton knit, and a self-lined panel would have shown through, I just made the little triangle to span the gap.  It attaches along the serging line on the neck binding.  I wouldn’t use cotton knit for this purpose because it does stand out a little bit, but it was good for me to experiment. 

*Nota bene:  There is an excellent tutorial for a full modesty panel at Pins and Needles.  

It’s good to be back.  I’ve got a dress I’m finishing up for a wedding this weekend, and then I need to do some serious planning for fall garments.

 

In the nick of time

So I’ve finally finished my June projects (minus the dress which just wasn’t right for me).  Though It’s July now, I’ll give myself a break because I didn’t start my plan until June 7th.  All along my real deadline has been today because we’re going to be out of town with family this weekend.

I nixed the pencil skirt I had planned because just looking at my stretch cotton induced sweating.  Last week it occurred to me that a simple gored skirt in a lightweight fabric would be a nice alternative.  I was irritated that I had nothing in my stash, but I “suffered” and drove down to Denver Fabrics and found this totally amazing tencel/cotton.  It was in the shirtings, but it has more than enough weight and drape to be perfect for a sweat-reducing skirt.  It’s wrinkle resistant, but the fabric breathes.  To boot–it looks like denim.  Methinks it’s the best of all possible worlds.

8 gored skirt

What I learned:

I need to draft more: I followed the gored skirt tutorial from Weekend Designer for this skirt.  It’s just too simple, and fits absurdly well.  Why do I bother with patterns when I can draft a skirt that fits so much better?  The waist is high on this one–partly because I wanted a skirt that for once actually fit my real waist, (it does!) but also because I’m using this skirt as the bottom of a dress I’m modifying.  As a skirt, I can’t say I’m crazy about the high-waisted feel, but it’ll be perfect for the dress.

Take that invisible zipper!:  I won’t say I’m terrified of zipper installation anymore.  I’ve avoided them for a long time mostly because I haven’t needed them.  My last invisible zipper was woeful though.  And the one before that.  But they were in the side seams of dresses which I think are tricky anyhow, and ultimately I’ll never do because my sides are way too curvy to make the zippers lie flat.  I’m a CB zipper kind of gal, which is kind of liberating to realize.  But back to THIS invisible zip.  I used this tutorial and it worked out smashingly.  I’m so thrilled to have an actually invisible invisible zipper with no lumpy parts in it.

Making things hang well:  I’m a hem nut if you haven’t noticed, and it seems like I’m always trying something new with hems.  On the linen skirt, I interfaced the entire hem, which was fine, but perhaps a bit too much.  I ran a strip of fusible half the width of the hem right next to my thread basting line that I use to mark the fold lines on my hems.  It’s less poofy than the fully interfaced hem, but still adds enough extra to help this lighter weight fabric hang better at the hem.  I also ran a line of seam binding along the top raw edge of the skirt to help stabilize the waistline.  Twill tape would have been too bulky for this fabric.  The binding kept things nice and contained while sewing in the facing, and the facing actually sits better for it being there. 

Noah had to get in on the photo taking action:

Color my thread

Sew Mama Sew is doing a thread stash meme, so I’ll throw my hat in the ring.

 * How did you select colors for your personal thread collection?  Color is so inspirational to me.  If I see a color that I love, I get it.  My collection is heavy in blues and teals and reds, as I wear mostly teals and blues and accent in reds, but I have a little bit of every color.
    * Do you always match the color perfectly to your project? 98% of the time I do.  I’m anal detail-oriented like that.
    * Do you ever use contrasting thread?  I do when I’m marking hems or basting things so that I can find those threads later to take them out.  I don’t usually topstitch in contrasting colors because it’s so obvious if you mess up, but once in a while I like the detail.
    * Do you use the same color in the bobbin as the upper thread?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.
    * What if a fabric has big areas of very different colors?  I try to pick the color out of however many that blends in the most.
    * Do you have any tips or suggestions about choosing thread?  People respond differently to color, so I think you have to find what works for you.  I don’t want to hate on Coats and Clark, but my machine is way more excited about Mettler Metrosene and Gutermann.  I think their spools just work better on my machine.  Mettler’s silk finish cotton thread is so awesome for topstitching–it feels great!
    * Can you show us a picture(s) of your thread collection? The above picture is of my colored threads.  My husband made these little paper boxes and all of them fit into a big tackle box where all the thread is stored to keep it out of the air so it lasts longer and is easily accessible to me.  I have a box of neutral colored thread as well, but neutrals are about as inspirational to me as dirt, so I don’t keep them as nicely organized.

    * Do you ever buy thread because you fall in love with the color (without a particular project in mind)?  Of course.  I’m a color junkie.  Give me a set of anything ordered by color, and I’m there!
    * Do you “invest” in thread? Yes.  How can you pass up 50% off sales, especially on serger thread?
     * What types of thread do you have? (elastic, quilting, all-purpose, wool, etc.) serger, mostly all-purpose, some silk thread for hand sewing and basting delicate fabrics, some fine thread, cotton for sewing lining fabrics, and a whole lot of vintage thread I pick up in thrift stores to use as hand basting thread and because the spools are so awesome (my son loves to play with them).  I have a of white hand quilting thread around all the time because I’m a yoyo addict.

Tradition

 

My Great-Grandma was an interesting lady.  Fiercely independent, opinionated, entrepreneurial, yet absurdly generous.  She baked a cake for someone in her company every day she worked, she made Easter eggs out of sugar with little scenes inside of them to sell, and she sewed many many many Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls.  Those things were everywhere, and I’m pretty sure each of her 17 great-grandchildren had multiples of those dolls.  Fast-forward to present day. 

Next week, when I go to see my family, I’m going to a baby shower for my dear cousin who is due in September.  She’s doing her nursery in Raggedy Ann and Andy motifs because (I imagine) it makes her remember Grandma St. Joe.  How could I pass up the opportunity to make her a doll that Grandma would be proud of? 

I used my TNT doll pattern, piecing the arms and legs to make them a little more patchworky, like Grandma’s dolls were.  I copied the face in fabric paint from a vintage Raggedy Ann doll picture I found on Flickr.  I used this tutorial for the hair, and the clothes I just cut a little bit of this and that and went to town, as I always do for my dolls.  Actually, it’s probably because Grandma St. Joe that I make dolls at all.  I remember being a kid and being allowed to raid her scrap piles in the attic.  I made many many a costume for my beloved squeaky pig, Spam from those bits, the most treasured being my Henry VIII garb I made from an upholstery scrap (wouldn’t you know Spam is at my parents…one of these days I’m going to rescue him and do a proper photo shoot).  I never cared much for the dolls themselves, but clothing them has always been a pastime for me, as I imagine it was for my Grandma.  Traditions at their best always feel that way to me.  It’s amazing to participate in a tradition and to remember those before you doing the same thing while you’re doing whatever that thing is.  

So, though my Grandma was quite a firecracker, I feel really blessed that she invited all of us into her world and taught us things.  I miss her.

(I was the baldest baby ever!)

Failure is part of the creative process

Depressing as this statement may be at times, it is true.

I forged on from yesterday’s confusion over the sleeve.  After fiddling around with it, I discovered it’s a sleeve drape, not really a sleeve at all.  As a design element, it’s really cool.  I figured out how to raise the neckline despite all of the pintucks, which really wasn’t terribly hard.  I could have stood to go a little higher still, but I would have to involve the side front piece.  I was willing to do all of that and then a nagging little voice in the back of my head told me it wouldn’t be a bad idea to muslin the skirt too.  I’m so glad I listened.  Exhibit A:

I know this is practice fabric, but I can’t quite get over the feeling of this:

I’m all for Oktoberfest, but that’s not the look I was hoping for from this dress.  The waist seam hits me weird and uncomfortably, but the big shapeless skirt was the death knell for me.  It somehow dragged down the very well fitted bodice into a big pile of schlumpiness and put 20 pounds on me that I don’t have on my body. 

I could scrap the circle skirt in favor of a gored skirt, but I think the seams would fight with the pintucks. 

What did I learn from this?  I can’t say it enough: making practice garments is a good idea.  Unless there’s a bun in the oven, empire waists, especially in woven fabrics aren’t the best silhouette for my short, curvy frame.  Back to the drawing board.  

I think I’ll go cook lots and read Frog and Toad stories to Noah to help ease my fried brain.