A story of toile and error (or what the heck do I do with all these misfits?)

The more I learn about dressmaking, the greater my enthusiasm for constructing toiles.

Toiles (or muslins) are my insurance policy against my regular mismatch of intention and actuality. My buffer against buffoonery. Take McCalls M5522 as an example. Without a trial run I would have most certainly created a blouse that made me look like overcooked frankfurter bursting out of its skin.

At the time of writing, I am now up to toile #3 for this particular garment. Like its predecessors, its flawed. And missing bits. And sewn with white thread on black. But despite its failings, it - along with its kin - has helped me complete extensive alterations to the original pattern. Sometime soon I will be able to cut into my fashion fabric and make a properly-fitted, pretty blouse.

But what now for the toiles? And the two toiles of this Folkwear empire dress. And the two for these Burda trousers. And another this Simplicity tunic top? The list goes on. I am accumulating half-made, ill-fitting garments in ugly fabrics.

Help me here: what do you think I should I do with my growing collection of misfits?

Pictured above: Toile #3 - a one-sleeved, placketless, collarless, buttonless beauty. Please note that the picture has been edited and a posterize effect applied. That shadow round my chin and armpit are not of the 5 o'clock variety. Well, that's my story and I am sticking to it.

A media distortion

I have to admit, I really can't resist a sight-gag.

So when my dad recounted the shock of unfurling the morning paper, I fell about laughing.



Remember folks: always unroll the whole newspaper before reading the headline about the new Prime Minister.

My creative space

I am joining in with Thursday's My Creative Space at Kootoyoo.

This space has been a little quiet of late: a case of craft versus winter ails (craft has put up a valiant fight, but is punching above its weight).

Sitting awaiting some attention is a pristine brown moleskine book. It arrived from half a world away earlier this week and is part of The Sketchbook Project. The plan is to fill the little sketchbook over the next 6 months, before returning it to a vast collection (thousands of sketchbooks!) that will tour galleries and museums across the U.S. next year. The collection will then be permanently housed in The Brooklyn Art Library.

The theme I have chosen for my book is "Happy thoughts". Do you think a sketch of a large bottle of cough medicine is too obscure?

Thank you very much Kirsty for hosting My Creative Space. Its great fun seeing what everyone is doing. To see who else is showing their creative space today (or to join in), head over here.

Make a wish

As the refrains of Happy Birthday concluded and the knife touched the cake, a small voice interrupted the all-important wish.

Wish for a duck, suggested Bargy.

So sincere apologies to Bargy's auntie, who may shortly find herself in the possession of a waterfowl instead of a tropical holiday, sports car or lotto win.



I made these cupcakes to accompany a magnificent birthday cake from Arnold's Swiss Cakes. The kids got the cupcakes; the adults the Sacher Torte. The children are still none the wiser about the injustice.

40th birthday cupcakes
250g (½lb) butter, melted
1 cup caster sugar
4 eggs (I used an egg replacer, which works very successfully)
2 cups plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
4 tablespoons cocoa powder
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 tablespoons milk

Preheat the oven to 160ºC (325ºF)
Place the dry ingredients in a food processor and pulse to combine
Add the butter and process until combined
With the motor running, add the milk
Spoon into 12 large paper patty cases and bake for about 20 minutes

Buttercream
75g (3oz) cocoa, sifted
300g (⅔lb) icing sugar, sifted
1 teapsoon vanilla
125g (4½oz) unsalted butter
125g (4½oz) white shortening*
Edible decorations

Beat the butter and shortening until fluffy
Beat in the cocoa, sugar and essence until well combined
Ice cakes (I piped the icing) and decorate

* In Australia, you could try Solite which is a commercial product available from cake decorating stores. Crisco, a shortening produced in the USA, would also work very well.

That other Cup

Isn't it amazing how advertising slogans can stick?

Nearly 25 years after the fact, I still remember being challenged by a jeans ad campaign: Do you fit the legend? Ah, that stretch denim; the high waist; the red tab. I remember so well. Mostly of course for the fact that I fitted neither the legend - nor the garment in question - particularly well. My fragile, youthful self-esteem was of course dented by my lack of legendedness.

Oh well. As I've grown older I have tried to take less notice of slogans and buy-lines.

Which is why I should have exercised a little more caution when I saw a ladies' pattern line called Made For You. A pattern made for moi? Really? Yippeeeeeee.

Sadly the bubble burst early. While the patterns boast bodice pieces between an A and a D cup, the NY Times tells us that the best selling bra is now a DD cup. What a pity the pattern companies are not keeping ... ahem ... abreast of trends.

Its a disappointment, that's for sure. And unfortunately feeling deflated is in no way matched by any actual physical deflation. So, multiple pattern alterations and three toiles later, my suspicion is that Made For You doesn't really mean You in the sense of Me.

I can only hope one day there might also be a Made For You Even If You Have Big Bazookas. Now that would be both fitting and legendary if you ask me.

My creative space

I am joining in with Thursday's My Creative Space at Kootoyoo.

This week my creative space is full of pins and batting. They await a meet-up with this quilt-top.



This is my first quilt, so its best no-one looks too closely at the seam intersections. Or the seams themselves for that matter. That ⅝ inch garment seam allowance is a hard habit to break ( ... and frankly those 5" charm squares are now looking a bit on the small side).

And in case you were unsure of the scale of the quilt, here's a comparison. And a cat in flagrant breach of the Hoppo Bumpo no bed-no chair-no cushion-no blanket rule. (Its a harsh operation we're running here). I'd better add quilts to that.



Thank you very much Kirsty for hosting My Creative Space. Its great fun seeing what everyone is doing. To see who else is showing their creative space today (or to join in), head over here.

Monty

Sketch of adopted feliney friend.
Ink & aquatone pencil* on watercolour paper.

* In those shades that escaped the great preschooler Derwent annihilation of 2010. The one that occured shortly before dinner. And proved the complete solubility of water soluble pencils. All I can say is thank goodness Monty is ginger and not chartreuse or magenta.

Danger is not my middle name

I worry a lot. I am faint-of-heart.

I imagine all sorts of craft-related accidents. Like cutting my hands with the rotary cutter. Or dangling my hair into the path of overlocker blades. Or searing my fingers whilst ironing bias binding.

Frankly, I don't do dangerous particularly well.

Which is why my attention was diverted from the promise of rich, intense and profoundly dark on the packaging of "Velvet Black". And how I came to hone-in on the warning.

Blah blah ... breathing difficulties ... blah blah blah ... serious skin and eye irritation ... blah blah blah ... allergic reaction ... blah blah blah.

Perhaps the restoration of my favourite skirt - and removal of an infuriating bleach mark - need not involve fabric dye at all.



Call it unconventional ... or even a little bit wrong ... (and correct me if I am mistaken) but I am yet to hear of a serious mishap involving a Sharpie marker.

Deciduous

I find trees really tricky to draw.
Thankfully this one will get easier with time.
By next Sunday, I'll only need a brown pencil for the trunk.

Sew ... what are you?

Subculture (n): a group of people with a culture that differentiates them from the larger culture to which they belong

When my machine went kaput last weekend, I joked to a few people that it "must have been the quilt". You see, since learning to sew I have focused on clothing. This quilt was a departure and patchwork was, as it were, quite unfamiliar territory.

Was I paying for crossing to the dark side?

Now, before anyone sets upon me with a rotary cutter and basting pins, I promise this was all said in jest. I have the greatest respect for quilters (despite their funny quarter inch feet). I really did mean dark side in the sense of craft-in-which-I-display-complete-and-utter-ineptitude.

But it has got me to thinking.

Is this craft I have been calling sewing a practical art in itself or an umbrella for some very distinct crafty subcultures? Quilters and embroiders and garment makers all use a needle and thread, but do quite different things. And one doesn't necessarily give you license in another.

My embroidery is horrible and the quilt-top above bears all the hallmarks of some rather dodgy, slapdash practices. I like to think on the other-hand that I finish garments quite nicely.

When I consulted the font-of-all-knowledge Wikipedia, I discovered that sewing is even used in taxidermy. I don't know about you, but despite my love of sewing I have never been the least bit interested in stuffing and mounting a vertebrate.

So, do you sew? What are your thoughts? Do you consider yourself a sewist ... or as something more specific?

My creative space

I am joining in with Thursday's My Creative Space at Kootoyoo.

Following a weekend foray into DIY fix-it, I am lamenting the demise of my sewing machine. Yes, a lost screw was retrieved from the depths of the machine (and I am most grateful for reader advice - thank you all!). And yes, I did manage to reassemble her. I even miraculously preserved her ability to stitch. But in the process I introduced the sort of loud hammering that one associates more with carpentry than chain stitching. Ooops.

So I'm admitting defeat: sending the machine away; ignoring The Great Pile of Unsewn; and switching projects.

Given my current dose of inept-fumble-fingeredness, I have settled on something chunky: Kirsty's wonderful hexagonal Granny Shrug. I have never crocheted anything more than dodgy granny squares, so I am taking my instruction from her excellent video tutorial and Lara's fantastic downloadable pattern.

After a bit of experimentation (read: unravelling), I am crocheting with two stands of super bulky yarn. The work is most enjoyable, but of gargantuan proportions. See the hook up there? Its almost the diameter of your arm. And frankly, the yarn is the thickness of a garden hose.

I am feeling a bit like the tiny version of Alice down the rabbit hole ( ... and of course ever hopeful of finding a piece of cake labelled Eat Me).

Thank you very much Kirsty for hosting My Creative Space. Its great fun seeing what everyone is doing. To see who else is showing their creative space today (or to join in), head over here.

Tutorial: sew a personalised mouse mat

I recently asked the kids what they would like to give their dad for his birthday. They were quick off the mark with ideas. Bargy thought necklaces, whilst Argy was adamant it should be Star Wars. No, no ... Lego. No wait ... maybe Star Wars Lego.

While the necklace idea came and went, Argy continued incubating his Lego plan. Finally one afternoon he built a dazzling array of Lego vehicles and pronounced them all to be gifts. They were very intricate and rather good. But frankly there was no way the plastic engineering would survive more than a day or two. If Bargy found them, they'd be toast. In a rare moment of inspiration I grabbed my camera and recorded them for posterity.

Which is how the boys came to present their dad with a one-of-a-kind mouse mat depicting, amongst other things, a Lego tractor being driven by Darth Vadar.

Happy birthday, Mr HB!


PERSONALISED MOUSE MAT

Requirements
A digital image
Good quality printable cotton fabric for top of mat
Contrasting quilting or decorator weight fabric for reverse of mat
Heavy weight fusible interfacing
Batting
Matching thread
Scissors, iron, sewing machine

Instructions

1. Print the image to your printable fabric, following the manufacturer's instructions.
   
   
   


2. Take the printed and contrast fabrics and cut both to size - remember to include an allowance for hem turnings. (I cut mine to 24cm x 21cm [approx. 9½" x 8¼"] which included 1.5cm [approx. ⅝"] hem allowances.)


3. Place the printed and contrast fabrics face down. Turn single fold hems on all sides. Press, then open the folds out again.
   


4. Mitre the corners of the hems. (The dotted lines indicate the fold lines for the hems and the third diagram shows a trimmed corner). Press with an iron as you go.
   
   
   
   


5. Cut two pieces of heavy-weight fusible interfacing and one or two pieces of batting to size. Their length and width should be about 2cm (approx. ¾") smaller all round, than your fabric.


6. Fuse the pieces of heavyweight interfacing to the wrong sides of the printed and contrast fabrics. Make sure you centre the interfacing so that you have a 1cm (approx. ⅜") perimeter left clear for stitching the mat.
   


7. Sandwich the batting between the printed fabric (face up) and the contrast fabric (face down). Match the edges of the fabric carefully.
   
   
   


8. Staying as close as possible to the edge, machine sew around the perimeter of the mat.
   
   All finished!
   
   
   
   (And just in case there are moments at work when Darth Vadar is inappropriate, we have a flip side)