Waiting room reading

Yesterday saw an unexpected visit to the hospital with Bargy. Our GP advised that we might like to pack a bag just in case Bargy was to be admitted. Now being as I have never travelled anywhere lightly in my life, this put me in a bit of a spin. I spent an hour frantically jamming clothes, nappies, toiletries, toys, storybooks, drinks, chocolate and other essentials into a bag. You know how they always advise take two things out when you've finished packing? Well for good measure I threw in two Burda World of Fashion, pattern magazines.

Thankfully we were back home by the end of the afternoon. The Burdas would, however, have stood me in good stead should there have been any long periods of waiting around.

For example, I haven't yet tired of admiring this coat. I can stare at it for ages. I have been rather imagining myself heading off to the races with flowers in my hair and decked out in this coat. (We'll just call that the sleep-deprivation speaking.)

Apart from the fabulous eye-candy pictures, I do love the accompanying text. Being as I cannot speak German (which was a klein problem on that weekend by myself in Frankfurt ... but that's another story), I can never be sure whether I get the giggles from the elaborate descriptions or the translation. There are liberal references to patterns being witty, cunning and saucy, which I find most amusing.

But bordering on riotous, is the scene awaiting you in the middle of the magazines. Yes, the patterns.

Complete pandemonium: pattern pieces for various garments are printed in green, red and black atop one another; labels in four languages jostle for real estate; and the sizing is indicated by mind-bending line patterning. There are solid and broken lines. Short dashes and long. Dots and circles. And every permutation of these possible. (The scene is rivalled only by this out-of-print treasure).

To be honest, if you worry about me misguidedly heading off to the races, dressed twenty-years too young and shoe-horned into a petite-cut coat - don't. You can rest assured that I will never get my head around tracing off that saucy green dot-dot-dash line.

A magazine habit

I like magazines.

Just ask Mr Hoppo Bumpo. He will confirm that our house is crammed with them. Drives him to distraction, it does. There are piles on tables, on shelves, in cupboards and under the bed. Couldn't possibly throw anything away. Who knows when you might be wanting to find that special article again sometime?

I think it all started when I was a student and worked in a newsagency. At first the odd fashion mag would catch my eye. Spend where you earn, they say. So I'd take a little reading material home. But as time went by my interests diversified. I started to read more widely. There were magazines about cooking, politics, travel, music, children's clothes, world affairs and poetry to be had. I started to put the magazines aside to buy at the end of the week. I couldn't afford them until pay day. Then I needed to buy the magazine holders to organise them all in. Expensive. Never mind "spend where you earn" - I was starting to finance the whole newsagency operation.

I would like to think my habit is more restrained these day, but I cheerfully confess to loving cooking and sewing magazines. The problem is that its the promise of the unread magazine that thrills me most. The glossy, smooth cover and the possibility of the exciting contents. I love the pursuit of the "ah-ha" moment; the life-changing article. Sadly, after reading cover to cover, I'm often disappointed.

And so it has been with a particular sewing mag that I have continued to faithfully purchase. In recent months I have found Australian Stitches a bit too nanna-ish. Too much focus on editorial comments, ads, make-overs and daggy things I'd never make - and not enough technical information. That is, until I opened my new copy yesterday.

I was delighted to find two treasures written by Martyn Smith. Blissful Bonding is a terrific introduction to the use of interfacing. It discusses types of interfacing as well as techniques, problems and pitfalls in attaching it. Who ever knew that it was the massive blast of steam from your iron during the bonding process, that causes fusible interfacing to come off in the wash? Or that you should only ever use white interfacing (not black or grey) to back red fabric?

The second article Getting The Point covers sewing machine needles. I particularly like the accompanying chart, which is a good ready-reckoner for matching a machine needle to your project. The only thing it lacked perhaps, was a little explanation about how the needle sizing system works. But I did adore the accompanying illustration showing a little embroidered pin cushion; neatly segmented and labelled for each type of machine needle. Of course, if you were following the article's instructions to the letter, you'd never be sticking a needle into that particular cushion. The needle would be in the bin, as soon as you'd finished a project. Yeah, right!

All great stuff. Go out and buy Australian Stitches Vol.16 No.4 and read the articles. Then do what I do and stash it atop 45 other magazines .... just in case you need it again ...

What would Enid Gilchrist recommend?

This is my delightful new vintage 1960s pattern book. It's classic Enid Gilchrist - patterns for boys and girls, three to six. I have been leafing its yellowing pages, admiring the bias cut underwear, car coats and ever-so-practical shirts that fasten securely to trousers with buttons.

As I am back to the boys' trousers project this weekend, I thought I would see what words of wisdom Enid had for outfitting the small boy.

Most three-year-olds take a great interest in their clothes and although little girls can become excited over pleats and frills, your small son will want everything exactly the same as the boy next door. He has in fact reached the stage when simple, well-tailored styles will please him most.

The same as the boy next door? Well-tailored styles? Please him?

When it comes to attire, I have heard very little from my two. Argy once complained about the lack of pockets on his pyjamas. Recently Bargy has decided to wear lime green gumboots - indoors. That aside, I have little to go on.

So, what is it that modern small boys really want in a pair of trousers?

Vox populi - trouser requirements

1. Pockets - useful for filling with sand and tissues before the trousers go in the wash
2. Fabric with a nap - something that helps rid your hands of mud, food and anything completely disgusting that has its origins in a facial orifice

Just off now to draft some extra pockets for my trousers pattern and find that corduroy with the fabulously thick pile.