The (very) simple little black dress

This really is my version of the Background Dress or the Second Look Dress. It's a black fitted dress. 3/4-length sleeves. High neckline in front and in the back. A simple vent. The only embellishment is the bound edges of sleeves and neckline. And I felt like a million dollars wearing it!

As I said, I continued my work on my Ultimate Dress Pattern. I changed the two front darts to four, and continued with split bust darts. I didn't make a toile this time but used the sky blue dress to estimate the fit, changed the pattern, cut the wool, basted all 12 darts (or 16 really - two on the shoulder, two on the sleeves as well) and pinned the rest of the dress - side seams, centre back, shoulders, sleeves... - and tried it on.

It was so good! A little less fabric over the hips, but most changes were needed on the sleeves and armscye - I removed almost all of the ease from the sleeves which surprisingly gave not only really nice fitted sleeves but also more arm movement. I'm a rather bright girl, but sometimes I just don't understand fitting.

Oh and the fabric! It's one of  my most recent buys, from Lisbon. A black wool crêpe, and lined with my favourite mix of acetate and cupro. It's so nice to work with and so nice to wear. The satin bias binding is in rayon.

Centre back is stabilised with twill tape and the zipper is prick stitched by hand. I used a new-to-me technique that I really loved (except that I did it by hand and without drawing on the right side of the fabric) and will be doing a lot more in the future.

Since the crêpe isn't the most stable of fabrics, I used twill tape for the shoulder seams as well, and rayon tape when I put in the sleeves. (Why rayon instead of twill tape? Because there's absolutely no give in the twill tape, but there are some in the rayon tape and I want some movement in the sleeve.) After I sewn all the darts I thought about underlining. Should I have underlined the entire dress in the acetate-cupro instead? Or with silk organza and then lined it as usual? Time will tell!

I cut the neckline and sleeves without seam allowances and bound the edges with bias binding - first one seam by machine and then I prick stitched by hand in the ditch, enclosing both the wool and the lining. The lining is fell stitched to the centre back seam.

I finished the seams in wool with a zigzag, while the lining simply is pinked. Both hems in wool and lining are finished by hand. As you can tell, the construction and sewing were really straight forward, and nothing complicated. (I think the most difficult was taking photos of a black dress in January...)

I could wear this dress more or less every day. Love it.

The ruby red coat in Threads

I had my favourite kind of morning today; it's a National holiday in Sweden so no work. I lit the candles, made eggs and lots of coffee while reading blogs.

Then I got a comment on my own blog that more or less made me jump up and down with joy and pride:

This evening I saw your red coat in Number 183 of Threads Magazine. It's beautiful and quite elegant. Anxiously awaiting your blog detailing the garment's construction. You are to be applauded on your work.

Thank you, thank you kind anonymous reader! I've spent part of the day translating the original blog posts about the ruby red coat since they were mostly in Swedish. So to all my international readers, now you can read about the beginning, the sewing and the end in three new old posts:
The coat begins
How to make a coat
A finished coat

After Threads contacted me I was afraid of jinxing it, so I was very happy when I signed the photo release. And now I can't wait until I get my hand on a copy of the magazine as well!

A jacket for Lisbon - sewing Vogue Vintage V2934

Obviously, I have a thing for new outer wear when going on vacation. The Dior-suit for Paris, the ruby red coat for London - and now a blue-grey cape-jacket. It wasn't planned at all; it wasn't even on my short list. I bought the pattern - Vogue Vintage Model V2934, an original design from 1950 - years ago at some sale, and then my sister bought some lovely wool in China, with the pattern in mind. And then I had it in my stash, and actually thought the wool would become a dress instead. Sometime.

On the Friday, I heard myself saying, "nah, I won't start another sewing project before Lisbon. The lace skirt is just finished, and there is so much going on at work." On the Sunday, I found myself making a toile, steaming the wool and adjusting the pattern. Ten days later it was done, something of a personal record for me. I wore it to work to see if I liked it enough to take to Lisbon - I did! - and so it went with me there. A bit too warm for some days, but I felt so chic and ladylike that I wore it anyway.

The wool is rather heavy, with a lovely sheen and nap, very much like the wool for my coat. Perhaps it's a seal skin as well? The lining is a slippery, ivory silk, that my sister also bought for me in China.

So let's take a closer look at the jacket or cape or cape-jacket. It's a really simple design - two front pieces and two back pieces. Centre back is not on the grain, which gives the lovely drape (and eats fabric). Darts very cleverly shapes the collar, and then cuffs to finish the shorter sleeves. Knowing that the amount of ease in contemporary patterns is a bit ridiculous, I cut a size small (even though they think that my waist measurement should be 10 centimetres less than I have) and the fit was perfect. I shortened both the sleeves and the cuffs 2 centimetres, and did the cuffs on the fold instead of with a facing - too much bulk.

I used horsehair canvas - as said in the instructions - as interfacing for the centre front and collar. I followed the instructions and cut the facing in wool, sewed it on, cursed it for quite some time and then removed it again. Reason one was the itchy wool next to my neck. Reason two was that the width of the facing and interfacing made the front part too stiff, and all the lovely intended drape over the bust area was lost - it just stood right out. I cut down the facings in the front, making them less wide.

Since I've already cut the lining, I cut the facings in the same silk, doubled it with silk organza, sewed it by machine to the lining and then fell stitched the whole piece to the wool (after prick stitching the edges).

I also did my very own version for closing - two loops and two rhinestone vintage buttons. A bit of a mess to close, but very beautiful.

The cape slash jacket has a tendency to fall backwards, perhaps because of the weight of the wool. I'm thinking about adding weights at the front hem. That would also stop it from blowing in the wind. I just need to find lead weights...

In Lisbon, I bought leather gloves to suit the short sleeves. (And then remembered that I found some suede long gloves at a second hand shop some time ago. Well, it can't hurt to have a choice can it?)

I'm actually thinking of making a second version. It would be lovely in some heavy silk; like faille or grosgrain like an evening coat. (Yes, I really, really need an evening coat, says the woman who has nothing to wear.)

Sewing in lace part six - and it IS a skirt!

With two and a half hours to go, my pencil skirt in dark blue soutache lace was completed. There is something with me and deadlines - the closer I get, the slower I become. But it is completed!

So I finished the waistband. (And then I notched the twill tape to make it lie smooth, and cross stitched it to the silk organza.)

And I finished the side seams, with burning the soutache edges and some stitches by hand. (A rather strange pose when you burn things. But I really didn't want to burn the skirt. After wearing the skirt for a day, I realised that the lace turns your tights to a fuzzy mess, so I'll either have to do something about it, or dedicate one pair of tights for the skirt. Right now, it's the former.

I'm very pleased how the skirt looks inside out - very couture if I may say so. Unfortunately, no one will ever see this again since I've covered it with lining.

I did the lining the easy way - measured the skirt at the widest point, took some acetate from the stash (silk was also an option, but it clings so much. I actually like acetate for linings.) and just ripped it to the right measurements. I marked centre front and sides, and then simply pleated along the waistband. I cut the edges with pinking shears and pressed the seam allowances. The only seam is centre back; fell stitching it to the zipper, fell stitching the seam, and finally fell stichting to the slit. And pick stitches for a very narrow double folded hem.

The final touch is always the label - and before that I removed basting threads for 16 minutes. (And one pin that I managed to sew into the hem - another 5 minutes.)

And then I wore the skirt when baby A got her name in church, together with her family and friends, and then after for some food and cakes. A great start for the skirt!

Read the whole story - in six parts - about this skirt, from beginning to end:

Part one, part two, part three, part four, part five and yes, you are reading part six. 

The importance of the right clothes

Well, I can't understand how not to take it seriously with clothes. It makes such a huge impact on how I'm feeling; when I have the right clothes I feel so much better, and when I'm in the wrong ones, it really makes me uncomfortable. If I'm doing a presentation at work, I need to feel strong, confident and grown up. If I'm going out to a restaurant, I want something that heightens the occasion and makes it even more special.

Right now, when it feels like I have nothing to wear I wish clothes weren't so important for me. That I could just put on anything and don't think twice about it. I wish that I could just chose a pair of plain jeans and a white shirt and be done.

Noo, not really. Just writing that makes me feel itchy. I'm really not the one for a capsule wardrobe, at least not as they are described in magazines and such. The jean, the black trousers, the white shirt, the grey cashmere sweater and ten white t-shirts. And then you accessorise with a chunky bangle - how novel! How individual!

I'm still working hard with my Wardrobe Architect-board on Pinterest. Yesterday, I wore my Dior pencil skirt - now with a very snug fit - a thin knitted black sweater and a rhinestone necklace from the 1950's, bought in Paris a couple of years ago. I felt so good about myself! (And all my presentations at work turned out really well. Not a co-incidence...)

I love big collars. But in reality, they overwhelm me. (Except for the one on my Dior jacket, that's perfectly balanced.)

I love poufy skirts. But in reality, it makes me feel too young and like I should curtsy. (Except for the black circle skirt. Should copy that one then, right?) But wait; going through my boards there aren't as many wide skirts as I thought. Perhaps I don't love them as much as I believed?

I love suits. But in reality, I feel a bit too vintage-y. (Except when wearing my Dior-suit, but that's not an everyday look for me.)

I love hats. But in reality, it's a bit too much, and too vintage-y. Since I made my small collection, I somehow lost the feeling for hats. The photo below was taken several years ago, and I'm not so sure I would be as comfortable in this hat now as I was then.

I feel a bit sad that there are so many things I love, but doesn't feel like "me" anymore. I still hold on to some of it, like the vintage hat collection, but by some sort of nostalgia. Is it time to sell more of them? Do I want it to still be me, even when it's not? And it makes me wonder - what changed?

Finding the right clothes for my new board goes really slowly. A lot of black, a lot of Dita von Teese. And slim skirts...

Seriously - I've got nothing to wear

This morning, I pulled out all clothes for autumn and winter, and tried them on, just like I did with my summer clothes a couple of months back. I would say this was just as bad. There was nothing that made me feel "Yes! I love this" and that's rather heartbreaking for someone like me. 

I repeat - there was nothing that I'm looking forward to wear. That calls for some serious action... 

Some vintage I'm letting go of - they just aren't right anymore. Some will be kep in the closet for nostalgia - the grey Dior I never got a chance to wear - some because I like the idea of copying them. Some I need to think about - are they worth all the work they need or should I just sell them? Some will need quite a bit of hours, but I think it'll be worth it. The blue in the middle for example, a dress I bought a couple of years ago. It's low in the back, high in the front, with a small shawl collar that ends with long tails, and neither a really full skirt nor a fitted one. I don't like the tails, and I don't like the width (anymore. I did from the beginning.) But the fabric is a nice wool flannel with a flower pattern in blue. I think it would be great as a wiggle dress - but that will take a couple of hours. 

So after celebrating my brother's birthday today I didn't continue working on the lace. I did some very intensive sewing on the black pencil skirt (part of my Dior suit) and the red and black brocade so now both are wearable. (But still not YES!)

This poor skirt has been through a lot the past years - I think this is the fourth time that I've reduced it in size. It's a lovely thick double wool crêpe, but I've mistreated it and there's a bit of sheen to it due to too much pressing. I really should make another black pencil skirt...

Proof that I actually use the sewing machine once in awhile. The dress has been fraying a bit, but mostly I wanted to give it some more shape and increased the darts. 

I'm still contemplating the Wardrobe Architect. But you can't go wrong with a black pencil skirt, a black knitted top and a statement necklace. (Just need the necklace...)

The evolution continues...

... and the frustration.

Yesterday morning I was getting ready for work. I felt - like I've felt way too many times this past year - that I really don't have anything to wear. So I thought I should wear the sky blue dress I finished a month ago, despite the fact that there is some slight tear in the centre back seam. I had planned to fix it before I wore it, but... There's been lace sewing on my free days and non-stop project management the other days. So I thought I could stand up most of the day not to increase the strain on the seam, and then fix it.

Turns out my working out have led to amazing results this past month. Not amazing results for my wardrobe however. The dress hangs like a sack of hay over the hips. I almost started to cry. But I really didn't have time for that, so instead I put on the black circle skirt (free hips!) that I've worn at least once but more likely twice a week and went to work. This morning I actually woke up with a heavy heart, didn't quite understand why and the remembered. The wardrobe of my dreams just slips away under my fingers.

Yes - I know I sound really dramatic but it's hard to explain how important what I wear is for me. But perhaps it is for you as well?

And yes - I could just give up exercising, eat some more of my favourite cakes and get my hips back, but I actually like working out. It's fun, gives me so much energy and I don't have an aching back or feel like a very, very old person when moving. A year ago I was in such bad shape (no energy, so much pain in my back and shoulders I could hardly work, and rolling a very stiff and heavy body out of bed each morning) and I don't want to go back there.

Yes, I'm almost freaking out over the lace skirt. We won't go into how much money I've payed for those fabrics. The darts are almost done - evidence tomorrow - but I'm really basting the rest for a good fitting before sewing anything. I hope it won't be a disaster.

So it's the wardrobe I need to adapt - and attack. This morning, I went back to the wardrobe architect I made back in January on Pinterest. I was so pleased with it back then, and felt rather smug that I at least knew what I wanted to wear.

Yeah, right. As I said, evolution continues. I still like my keywords - Tailored - Ladylike - Strong - Luxurious - but there's a lot of images I'm not too certain about. Not quite wanting to cry, more frustrated. Now what?

I need to try on what clothes I have for autumn/winter. What's too big and what's not really "me"?
I need to try to find out what actually is "me".
I need to find a way to have at least ten different outfits to rotate. (I've had less this summer and it really isn't fun. Plus it puts a tremendous strain on the clothes.)

The problems are:
My adventures in ready-to-wear didn't turn out so well the last time.
I don't have much time to sew on.

Yes, it really is this dark. The only thing I know is what I like to wear when I'm at home - a black viscose jersey dress and black thights. That doesn't make a great wardrobe. (Or pinterest board.) Welcome Wardrobe Architect Fall 2015-edition.

I'm going to pilates instead.

Saving a dress

Well, I identified three dresses needing more than their share of tender, love and care. It really isn't my favourite task, but this Saturday, two hours before heading out for some cocktails and wine (and cheese, as it turned out) I felt that I really needed to wear the one with torn sleeves. Not wanting to actually wear the torn sleeves, I started with ripping the seams.

(See the old stitching line and a rather sloppy seamstress (not me! The original seamstress!) who didn't follow it? I love seeing things like this!) I had some acetate bias binding that I made ages ago - to bind the seams of the grey Christian Dior dress I think - that was a good match. I sewed the first round by machine (one from the inside instead of the outside, a bit stressed as I was. Just to un-pick and do over again) and then turned them in and secured by hand. The fabric was torn in the vent as well, but I didn't have time to make it proper; I just secured it and went out.

But I did finish the vent the day after, to my great surprise. I removed the placket that was torn beyond salvation, reinforced the slit with silk organza and moved the crease where the fabric was all in threads. I also lengthen the slit a couple of centimetres and shortened the skirt with about four centimetres. It's still well below the knee, but not as much as before.

I really love the dress, especially the draped front. I should try to copy that sometime - along with three quarter sleeves. I do prefer sleeves, but I'm glad that this dress can be worn again.

By the way - can any of you read what it says on the label (except for Wien (Vienna) that is)? I've seen several beautiful made dresses from this label, but can't find any information on the lovely internet no matter what combinations of letters I use.

It's a dress!

I know! And it's not a two-year project that I finally finished; it's a dress from pattern to hemming in just two weeks (and that's rather impressive to be me)!

But most importantly, it's been fun. As you might have sensed during the spring; I haven't sewn, I've had a major wardrobe and style crisis, and also a bit of identity crisis - if I don't sew, what do I do?

But I do sew!

Anyway, the pattern is my own; the Ultimate Dress Pattern but let's say we're not quite there yet. There's still something about those sleeves. And I didn't make it in the Liberty fabric as planned, since I just couldn't decide on sleeve length, and neckline and lining or no lining and I went crazy with not being able to just do it, so I changed the fabric to this lovely sky blue cotton sateen (cotton satin?) that I bought last time in Paris. I did some project planning and started to cut. Oh well.

Since the last I sewed was the slippery fluid fabric from h*ll (also known as silk charmeuse and an absolutely a dream to wear) I thought it would be nice with a simple cotton. Ha. This was almost as fluid as the silk and didn't want to get cut at all. And for some reason, very difficult to mark. A bit hopeless to sew and press as well, and my, does it wrinkle! The fabric is a bit too drapey for the simple and rather structured design I chose; it would be better in a more stable fabric. I didn't think at all about combining the right pattern with the right fabric; I just thought cotton and summer. So next time. And some tweaks for the sleeves.

To get a really good fit I used double darts on the back and split bust darts as reminded by Did You Make That. The more seams, the better the fit. I finished the seams with rayon seam binding, a favourite of one of my favourite bloggers Laura Mae, but it was not my cup of tea. Perhaps it was more difficult because of the drapey fabric, but the amount of time and thread and it still looks a bit wonky... I didn't have enough seam binding for the inside of the sleeves, so I used one of my own preferred ways to finish a seam, the clean finished seam, also knows as the turned and stitched seam. (It happens to be one of Alison Smith's favourites as well, and she says it's perfect for vintage sewing and is very sturdy, making it suitable for children's clothes.)

But I did like seam binding in the armscyes, but sewed it by hand. I think it went almost as fast as with the machine, no harsh words were uttered and the result turned out so much nicer.

I supported the facings and the entire centre back seam with silk organza, and stabilised both shoulders and neckline (front and back) with twill tape.

The zipper is handpicked; both because I think it's the safest way to insert one(I've never had to insert a zipper more than once when I do it by hand. When I do it on machine there's always some little mess and I have to un-pick at least a bit.) and because I think pick stitches are so fun to sew. So that's what I used to understitch the facings as well.

As you can see above; double darts in the back, and the handpicked zip. When the dress was almost finished - just the hemming left - I remembered that I read about the couture way to sew a facing. I must remember that next time; I really don't like the standard way of sewing right against right side, flip over, notch and understitch. Now I need to remember that for my next dress.

The hem and sleeves are first clean finished and then hemmed by hand. And I even did a little arrowhead tack (or at least, my version of an arrowhead tack...) at the end of the slit with silk buttonhole twist.

I wore it the other day to work the other day and felt really good in it. Perhaps I was a bit generous with the ease, and I should have taken in a centimeter or two in the neckline back; it's gaping a bit. The fabric wrinkles when you wear it, but not as bad as I thought. (And of course I spilled some food - grilled chicken -  on it. I only do that when I wear a new dress. The grease is gone, but there's a light shadow from the water stain. Darn.)

(It's so fun with a tripod and remote to the camera!)

So what's next? I really must give some of my vintage dresses some love so I can wear them a bit more. And I have a baptism coming up in October and what better to wear than a dark blue pencil skirt in lace?