Miss Lotta Bundles Up: Ottobre 05/2018 -- Autumn Warmer Cardigan

Good morning, kittens! I'm taking a break from Kibbe ruminations today to share my latest project, the Autumn Warmer sweater from the latest issue (05/2018) of Ottobre Woman. This was the last project I cut out before tumbling into wardrobe revamp plans, but it actually aligns nicely with some of my forthcoming style changes. 

Over the past few years, I've increasingly turned to sewing magazines for both inspiration and patterns. It began with Knipmode, when they expanded their sizing to a European 54 on every pattern published, and has continued with Burda, as they've improved their plus size (EU 44-52) collections. Every time I review a pattern from those magazines, however, someone always comments with how much they love Ottobre Design. The Finnish family-owned magazine mixes what I like about the other two publications--they have an English version (Knipmode doesn't) and they publish every pattern in every size, up to a EU 52 (Burda doesn't)--then adds a modern, practical design aesthetic on top of it. This fall, I finally gave in and purchased a subscription to Ottobre Woman. 

Y'all, I'm so glad I made that decision! This issue has quite a few patterns that caught my eye, from the elegant pegged pants to that simple surplice dress, and one that I absolutely loved. Their cover pattern, the Autumn Warmer cardigan, rocketed up my to-sew list. The hood/shawl collar combination is such an interesting design feature, elevating the pattern from just another sweater to something I desperately needed in my closet. 

I wasn't alone. My fellow Curvy Sewing Collective editors, Michelle and Megan, also fell hard for this pattern and we all agreed to make it for a "Same Pattern, Different Bodies" post on the CSC. Even better, right after we committed to this plan, winter arrived early in Texas. Our first freeze this year was in October and it's been cold front after cold front ever since. We actually have snow chances in our forecast, later this week! In Central Texas! This is definitely the year for all those cozy, snuggly projects that I usually put off.

I ordered a few sweater knit options from Mood, then settled on this gorgeous red bamboo French Terry as my first version. Let's be honest, the moment I see a hood in my future, my thoughts drift to Little Red Riding Hood and red is a foregone conclusion. Fairytale archetypes live large in my fashion sensibilities, it seems. Now that I've made it up, I don't think this was the right fabric choice. While it's a gorgeous terry, it's also a bit too much of a classic sweatshirting for this project, bagging out with wear. A sweater knit with better recovery is an ideal choice for this draping silhouette. Not all sweater knits are created equal and terry really is better suited to something boxier, like a Linden Sweatshirt.

I also made a mistake in choosing my size. Having never sewn with Ottobre before, I erred on the side of caution and made this up based on my full bust measurement, which puts me in a size 50. Like with Burda, however, I would've been better suited to a 48. I had to take in the shoulders considerably, the sleeves are much too baggy, and the whole thing just feels big. If I don't pay attention to how it's laying, the sweater shifts around and looks messy, because there's too much excess fabric. With this combination of fabric and the wrong size, this sweater can easily look too messy, which is a shame because with other choices it would be gorgeous. 

This is actually a problem I always have with sewn sweaters. I've had legions of failed sweater projects that haven't made this blog, y'all. I never go with my instincts and size down, then am disappointed with the baggy, saggy, shapeless results. A few years back, I made a Sew House Seven Toaster Sweater that almost sent me over the edge with sizing rage. Finding the perfect combination of pattern and appropriate fabric is key to a wearable sweater, but it's a balance I rarely find. This sweater is actually pretty close to ideal, when compared to those past failures. 

Red Riding Hood or...Handmaiden? It's a close call. 

All that being said, this sweater is not only wearable, but beloved despite its problems. There's something about the brightness of this color and the way the hood opens up into that wide shawl collar that I adore. One of Kibbe's recommendations for Soft Dramatics is a large open neckline like this and it's easy to see why. The proportions of that collar are rocking my world and reiterating how desperately I need to sew up the Butterick 6604 coat.

Additionally, this terry is cozy AF. Throwing this sweater on over jeans and simple blouse looks dramatic and daring, but feels like I'm wearing a bathrobe out into the world. It's not nearly as warm as a merino wool version would be, but perfect for the crisp, blustery days we keep having here. 

Let's quickly talk construction, shall we? For a magazine pattern, this was a joy to assemble. Ottobre's pattern sheets are less cluttered than their competitors and it was easy to find my pattern pieces and size. Twenty minutes later, thanks to the dynamic duo of bee paper and a double tracing wheel, I had a traced off a pattern with seam allowances. (Seriously, get a double tracing wheel if you trace off patterns! It makes adding seam allowances to magazine patterns infinitely easier. That, or  use my shoddy, but reliable method: tape two classic Sharpies together for a perfect 1/2" seam allowance.)

Like most knit patterns, this was a really quick, easy pattern to make up. I used my sewing machine (a Janome Magnolia 7330) to do all the seams and hems, deploying a lightning bolt stitch on the seams and a decorative stretch stitch on the hems. The neckline and shoulders are reinforced with clear elastic, to keep them from stretching out, and the bottom hem is stabilized with wonder tape. My only complaint about the construction is that, because the hood is part of the collar itself, cleanly finishing the neckline is a challenge. There's a pivot from the shoulder line to the back collar that I needed to redo three times, before I got it right. Baste it first, then sew a stretch stitch once you're happy with how it lays. 

All in all, this pattern was a moderately successful introduction into Ottobre, and one that I'll make again before the season is out. With the right fabric--ideally a drapey wool knit with springy recovery--this can be such a chic, unexpected twist on the classic hooded sweatshirt. For me, this was also a nice entree into Kibbe's recommendations for my body type. If I ever doubted my ability to pull off bold color and large details, this sweater would quiet those doubts. 

Next up, I'm taking on a dress for the holidays! If you're interested in the Autumn Warmer pattern, be sure to check out Megan and Michelle's great versions over at the CSC blog. I always find it enlightening to see different sewists try the same pattern and share their thoughts. 

Currently reading: The Christmas Sisters by Sarah Morgan

Note: Any Amazon links on this or other posts are affiliate links. 

Miss Hildy Gets a Promotion: Knipmode 03/2016 + McCall's 7351

Kittens, this was a week. 

You know the kind. Everything with a plug breaks, deer jump into the road right as you drive by, and you discover that the night shift Emergency Room doctor knows you by name. I. Am. Drained. Give me a fainting couch and a cocktail, because that's all I have the energy to face.  

Well, that and finally blogging about this outfit. Both of these garments are in heavy wardrobe rotation, so it's high time they made an appearance here. They weren't actually meant to go together, per se, but I ironed them at the same time and gave into whimsy. Polka dots in opposite colorways cancel each other out, right? We're going with it. 

Let's talk about this skirt first, as you've seen the shirt pattern (many times) before. This skirt is pattern #9 from the March 2016 issue of Knipmode,* which was filled with on-trend basics for spring. So, naturally, I waited until autumn to make this up. It's almost like there's a nursery rhyme about Marys and their contrarian ways. 

Anyway, this pattern. It's a full, pleated skirt with asymmetrical pleating, a curved waistband, and an invisible zipper side closure. On both the front and the back, there are two knife pleats and an inverted box pleat. Simple enough, right? I didn't even bother translating instructions from Dutch, so confident was I in my skirt skills. I raided my stash, came up with this dishy polka dot stretch twill from Mood, and started sewing this pattern in a straight Size 48.

Foolhardy decision. Look closer, my dears.  

*Note: This pattern is also available as a PDF. If you'd like to know more about how I use Knipmode, from translating to tracing, I recently posted about it on the Curvy Sewing Collective.

See those pleats? They don't look quite the same as the original, do they? There's something amiss. You can almost put your finger on it...

AHA!

Yes, I sewed the pleats in the wrong directions. Somehow, when marking up the pattern, I ended up with a knife pleat on either side of a center box pleat. It's like my persnickety devotion to symmetry couldn't stand the intended design and hijacked the whole project.  Well played, subconscious. 

By the time I noticed the error, I'd pleated both sides. It was either unpick the whole thing or live with a more (though not fully) symmetrical design. Obviously, I didn't care that much. All I really wanted was a polka dot skirt in a full silhouette. I tried it on, decided it looked fine, and called it a design decision. 

Other than unforseen pleating adventures, this was a quick project. There's a black invisible zipper at the side, a fairly deep hem, and a faced waistband. It really doesn't get simpler than that, does it? I've actually made two further versions of this skirt, with full linings and correct pleat orientations, for more swishy basics. Mood has a great collection of cotton sateens right now, which lend themselves well to such garments. 

Onto the shirt! Have you guessed what pattern this is, yet?

This is another version of McCall's 7351, everyone's new favorite shirtdress. A couple months ago, I made a few alterations and also turned this pattern into my go-to button-down. It's a simple darted top with a classic collar, separate button bands, and a back yoke. 

What's fun about this garment is actually the fabric. This black and white polka dotted shirting is a gorgeous, lightweight lawn picked up from Gail K Fabrics in Atlanta. Back in May, Sam and I took a grand road trip through the Southeast, visiting beloved relatives, attending an academic conference, and frolicking our way through six states. 

The Georgia part of this trip was filled with sewing shenanigans. First up, I was lucky enough to attend the annual Young Designers Sewing Program fashion show, thanks to Sam's amazing Aunt Gail. The Young Designers program is a nonprofit in Athens, which teaches girls how to design and sew their own clothes, along with interviewing skills, college planning, and basic small business practices. Each year, they have a fashion show, where the girls show off all the clothes they've been making, from refashions of wedding dresses to vintage-inspired outfits that look straight from New York. I have never been so awed. Many of these girls were still in elementary school and already working with sergers, knits, and invisible zippers! If you're in the Athens/Atlanta area, this is a great organization to check out. They're always looking for fabric donations, financial backing, and sewists willing to donate their time! 

After Athens, we headed to Atlanta for the conference and some exploring of Sam's old graduate school haunts. There, I had the good luck to run into the gorgeous Sumiko, who is both a brilliant communication scholar and a fellow curvy sewist. We met up for coffee and sewing gossip, then afterwards I headed to the famed Gail K Fabrics. Y'all, this store deserves its reputation. Outside of Britex and Mood, I've never been so overwhelmed by a fabric store. They had walls upon walls of fabric, many stacked all the way to the ceiling. It was a labyrinth of beautiful prints and luxe fibers. In the end, I walked away with this shirting and two Marc Jacobs voiles (sapphire and emerald). It's definitely worth a trip, if you find yourself in Georgia! 

Though polka dot shirtings are fairly thick on the ground, this one is special. It washed up into a gloriously soft, draping cotton that skims over curves and is somehow impervious to wrinkles. Even better, it's printed on grain. On grain! I can't remember the last time I used a polka dot that lined up perfectly with the grain. That alone made it worth the purchase. 

The construction of this shirt was identical to my previous version, apart from the addition of two extra buttons. If you're curious about some more complicated aspects of button-downs, however, I have good news! I recently wrote a post for BERNINA's blog, We All Sew, about how I construct and sew collars. If you've wrestled with turning points and getting collars to curve, the tips I share in "The Secrets of Sewing Perfect Collars" should help out. 

There you have it, not one, but two polka dotted garments. Like I said, both of these pieces have gotten heaps of wear, in recent weeks. The button-down looks killer with skinny jeans and a drapey, bright cardigan, while the skirt dresses up beautifully with Bardot tops and heels. Honestly, though, I do prefer them worn together. There's something about the inversion of the same palette that lends a certain elegance to the humble dot. It's unconventional, but still classic. 

In short, I dig it. Now, where is my fainting couch?

Miss Margot Could Be Your Silver Springs: Butterick 5878

Good afternoon, my dear wombats! Over the last year, I've alluded to my evolving sense of style. It's something everyone goes through, of course. Your body changes, you get older, you move. All of these shifts reverberate through our wardrobes, as well.

When you make your own clothes, however, this transition can be more of a headache. My many cotton versions of Simplicity 1873 go unworn nowadays, crowding my closet with their bright, novelty prints, but there aren't nearly enough silk blouses to pair with skinny jeans. Add in measurements that are bouncing around like a rubber ball and my closet fills me with dread, a morass of slightly too-tight skirts and colors that don't suit my current mood.  

Then again, there are new additions that get plenty of rotation. Shirtdresses continue on, beloved and easy to wear, jewel tones speak to how much I'm over summer, and the 1970's has crept onto my radar. Think a light smattering of voluminous sleeves and bohemian silhouettes. My love of Stevie Nicks is finally influencing something other than my Spotify algorithm, it seems.

Any moment, I'm going to start wearing shawls and twirling. Tambourines, ahoy. 

In all honesty, I am in love with peasant style dresses for the fall. McCall's 7431 (View C, with those dramatic sleeves!) is high on my sewing wishlist, as is this maxi dress from Burda. However, Butterick 5878 seemed like the best way to ease into this look, if only because I'd already cut out the pattern. 

This is a woven surplice dress with a tiered skirt, three sleeve options, and elasticized waist. I'm not going to lie, kittens, that elastic waist drew me in originally. With those aforementioned bouncing measurements, sewing pieces that will fit from one month to the next is crucial right now. It's a miracle I'm not just sewing knits until my hormones even out again. 

Anywho. I opted for View B of this pattern, which has three tiers on the skirt and elasticized 3/4 sleeves. There was a point, halfway through, when I tried on the dress and almost left off the sleeves entirely. While this version of the pattern absolutely screams peasant dress, the sleeveless view looks decidedly modern when done all in one fabric, the perfect transitional piece from summer to fall.

I'll obviously need one of those, as well. 

Despite threats to leave off pieces or sub in a simple circle skirt, I embraced the design of this dress fully. Everything on the pattern is as-is, except for a Full Bust Adjustment taken before cutting. I probably could've skipped it, but the impulse for staying true to design integrity overrode me. I err toward fitting things as intended, rather than using ease to skate by with my measurements. It's always easier to take things in than to wish for more room, after all. 

The fabric of this dress is a rayon challis from Fabric Mart, which has languished in my stash for years. It's a minimalist tulip design in white, teal, and sapphire on a black background, with all the swish and body you'd expect from a challis. I had scads of it and no particular emotional attachment, so it was the ideal fabric for trying out a new pattern. Plus, it wouldn't push this dress into "prairie chic" territory, which was a legit concern. The tulips point in both directions, but more one way or another, depending on which side is up. I opted for more tulips pointing down, like little Tiffany lamps. 

The construction details on this pattern are what you would expect from a Big 4 dress pattern. The instructions are detailed and thorough, but I changed it up to suit my preferences. Butterick suggests that you encase the elastic in the loose seam allowance of the waist seam, which was waaaaay too messy for me. Instead, I serged that seam to finish it, then used it as a channel on the inside bodice, top-stitching the seam upwards, flat against the bodice. Leaving a few inches free, I then threaded the elastic through that channel and closed it up. Easy and much, much cleaner!

Everything else was a cinch. The tiers require a ton of gathering, but I rather like such mindless, longform sewing. Put on a podcast, zen out for thirty minutes, and you're done! On the sleeveless version of this dress, I will probably sub in a 3/4 circle skirt, though. There are only so many aggressively tiered dresses a woman needs. 

The final dress looks so close to how I imagined it. Loose, but feminine and begging to be layered with tights and boots. Arguably, it was meant to be belted, but my favorite skinny belt went M.I.A. for these pictures and I like the shape just as much without. The elastic waist still gives the dress plenty of definition and it's shockingly breezy and cool for the warm September days we're having. Hooray for rayon!

The one thing I don't like is the sleeve length. It turns out that elasticized sleeves kind of drive me crazy on my forearms. They're not tight enough to stay still, but they're not loose enough to keep from bothering me. I keep leaving them at my elbows, as in these pictures, which gives them a bell shape. It's cute, but definitely not as intended. 

When I change up the skirt on this pattern, I'll increase the depth of that crossover wrap on the bodice, as well. Like others before me, I added a tack at the center front, to prevent the bodice from blousing open. With a slightly deeper crossover, I could nix the tack and the camisole underneath. Using the current skirt, though, the shorter waistline from a deep wrap would have messed with the top tier's size. The pieces measure one for one, along the waistline. I didn't feel like pre-gathering before the elastic insertion or narrowing that tier, so I left the bodice intact. 

Can you tell I'm ready for fall? Things are getting desperate around here, when I'm willfully adding sleeves to dresses and wearing black by choice. After looking at these pictures, I'm dreaming of another version of this dress in true autumnal colors. Maybe a berry polka dot or mustard floral? Those would look gorgeous layered under cardigans and over tights. 

There's nothing wrong with a spot of aspirational sewing, right? Sew for the climate you want to have and all that. I haven't even started on my winter coats yet, so I'm still being somewhat practical. We'll ignore the piles of wool on my cutting table and pumpkin cake recipes crowding my browser tabs. 

Notes from an Overcommitted Hobbyist

Good morning, friends! As you may have noticed, things around this blog have been a bit official lately. For the last month, I've been either blogging about Project Sewn or participating in a blog tour of some sort. While this may not bother some people, I know that others start to get twitchy when previously normal blogs start joining up with promotional events.

I get it. It's like when Second City's Sassy Gay Friend started selling Mio, as a part of delivering a wake-up call to literary heroines. It devalued the whole series for me and I stopped watching, because water should not taste like grape candy and amusing literary criticism should not include purple syrup.   (Though, for real, the Giving Tree video is my favorite thing to happen on the internet. It should also be acknowledged that these videos exist in that morally weird space of comedic self-stereotyping, as discussed in this Salon article. The literary skewering, however, was brilliant) For sewing blogs, there is also a line for many people, when the same patterns pop up in every blog or the same promotion is heard about for weeks on end. While I love seeing a pattern on as many bodies as possible, before I shell out cash for it, it also can seem like a bombardment of pseudo-advertisement to some. That is a legit complaint.

With that in mind, I thought a little transparency was in order. If you've been uneasy with the direction of this blog in the last month, don't fret. The end is in sight. You see, a few months ago I started getting requests for the first time ever, to participate in pattern tests and blog tours. This made me extraordinarily excited, because such endeavors seemed like fun, interesting ways to be involved in our community. Plus, it was pretty cool to be asked! Unfortunately, once I said yes to Project Sewn, this meant I'd way, way, way overcommitted myself for the months of May and June. All of the unveiling dates for these projects and commitments ended up falling within a few weeks of each other. Currently, I have two more committed posts for the month of June, before the wide, clean slate of July is ushered in. I am quite excited about both of the pieces made for these posts, as they fall into a category of new-to-me sewing and stylistically unique patterns, but it would also be understandable for y'all to roll your eyes. Another blog tour, Mary? For real?

I'm right there with you. As it turns out, I hate having a full schedule of necessary projects. When it comes to sewing, I am a hobbyist in the truest sense of the word. I like to sew what I want, when I want. Similarly, I like to not sew for days on end. A few necessary projects in the lineup are fun, but I would go crazy if they were all I made. Even when I really love the pattern I'm working on, it feels more like work than my usual sewing adventures. There are instructions to follow by the letter and constructive feedback to consider. My normal sewing is more of a joyful, scattered sort of process that happens in a few hour-long bursts.

I know many sewists view sewing as their true passion, that one thing they would turn into a job, if those lucky lottery numbers ever came up. That is not my dream or the goal of this blog. It actually sounds like the quickest way to make me throw my machine off a very tall cliff. If Sam and I were independently wealthy, one of the first things I'd do is buy a kick ass, crazy expensive machine...which I'd then use just as often as my current cheapo. My dream careers involve becoming an Egyptologist or opening up a tea house/bookstore with my best friend, not sewing forever after.

For me, sewing will always be my favorite hobby. It's the thing I turn to, when work is overwhelming or my emotions are running high. I love the creative buzz that comes from it and the way time flies by without worry, as a garment is constructed. It's introduced me to the most interesting, supportive community on the internet and some true kindred spirits. So, while I will blissfully keep pattern testing (because--let's be honest--plus sizes need to be involved more in that realm) and participating in blog tours I believe in supporting, things are going to ease up around here. These past few months have elucidated what I love about both blogging and sewing, which looks more balanced than its current form.

On that note, I'm quite curious where your passion for sewing lies. Do you long to open up your own sewing studio or teach classes for a living? Or does sewing and blogging as a job sound like the worst thing ever to you? The spectrum for such a thing is fascinating, when dealing with a passionate population like ours. Incidentally, what would your dream career be, if you won the lottery? There have to be other Egyptology groupies, who've been overly influenced by one Amelia Peabody Emerson.

Note: There was no specific criticism that launched this post, in case you're worried. It's just a product of my own unease and pathological need to discuss and dissect the things that brew in my mind . 

The Extravagant, Perfect Details of Alabama Chanin

Y'all, I have fallen down a rabbit hole of stitchery.

Last year, I posted about my wedding dress, which prompted tales of your own handmade and custom made dresses. Though they all sounded gorgeous, one left me utterly gobsmacked. Susan, who doesn't blog but is awesome, made her own Alabama Chanin style wedding gown.

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Note: This is not Susan's dress. I saw pictures, however, and it was a cream-colored bit of perfection. Imagine a white version of the dress above and you're close. A-mazing. 

Did you just gasp in awe? If not, I can only assume it's because you're unfamiliar with the opulent, environmentally sustainable Southern fashion house that is Alabama Chanin. Dealing mainly in midweight cotton jersey, Natalie Chanin & co. hand make some of the most intricate garments on the continent. Each piece uses a combination of techniques, from reverse appliques to embroidered seams and beading, that can be called nothing short of wearable art.

Alabama Chanin pieces are stunning online, but more so in person. The aesthetic here is the opposite of modernist simplicity. Instead of clean lines and androgynous shapes, these are the clothes of deeply feminine, romantic wood sprites. The women of the Alabama Chanin collection look as if they're en route to a DIY wedding, held in a secluded meadow by Tolkien elves who now live in Regency England.

So, you know, I adore them. Ardently. Shall we ogle a bit?

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Unfortunately for me, the labor involved in these garments and the ethical business practices of Alabama Chanin mean that they are priced, quite fairly, at a gazillion dollars. Until my first book hits the NYT list, they are a few stratospheres above my price range.

There is, however, a bright spot. Three of them, even! Natalie Chanin has authored multiple home sewing books, detailing in full color photographs, the Alabama Chanin techniques. The latest book, Alabama Studio Sewing + Design, arrived into my greedy hands tonight. After much hemming and hawing, I ordered it on Amazon, resolved to make my own opulent wood nymph creations.

The book comes with sewing patterns, up to a bust size 42'', and 175 pages of embellishment techniques. Each technique is explained beautifully and looks deceptively easy. I'm pretty sure that my first attempt will be disastrous, but I'm dying to try it out! When enumerating what I love in RTW clothing, charming embellishments are high on the list. I seldom add them to my own projects, however, which needs to change. This book is an excellent start.

Have you ever attempted reverse applique or running embroidery a la Alabama Chanin? Do you have any other small, handmade fashion company that you'd love to release a home sewing book? Do you just think I'm crazed for attempting such a thing?

Miss Anya Stretches It Out: Lady Skater Dress

Happy 2014, friends! I hope your new year has started off well - full of conquered resolutions and stretchy post-holiday fabrics. In a combination of both notes, I've already had a sewing breakthrough this year. I, Mary Danielson Perry*, just sewed a knit dress.

I know what you're thinking. But knit fabrics are hard, Mary! They stretch and warp and have caused many a poor sewist to wander the moors in sorrow for wavy hems! You're completely right, of course. Knit fabrics are finicky beasts...unless you have a serger. Thanks to one dashing professor, I am now the proud owner of a Brother 1034D. The bearded one gives great Christmas gifts, non? I've had my eye on this model for quite some time, as it's the perfect blend of cost effectiveness and functionality. After my first project using her, I can totally endorse the reviews: this little machine is a wonder. Every seam is not only perfectly finished, but it was a breeze to thread and get started on. Joy!

Of course, I started on a relatively simple pattern. This is the Lady Skater dress from Kitchsy Coo, which was recommended as an ideal beginning knit pattern. It's a knit dress with sleeve options, a gently flared skirt, and banded neckline. Not only did it seem easy to construct, but it looked heavenly on dozens of body types.  For as terrifying as knits are purported to be, a sure bet pattern like this one seemed the way to go. I opted for a 3/4 sleeved version with coordinating neck and arm bands, then sewed the dress up exactly as instructed.

For fabric, I used a rayon jersey bought with a coupon at JoAnn Fabrics. It's a lovely sky blue, with white polka dots on one side and stripes on the other. After reading every knit fabrics tutorial online, I knew one thing was most important: finding the stretch of the fabric when cutting. A stripe that ran the length of said stretch was so helpful! Even better, I could use the striped side as my bands, to add visual interest to an otherwise plain dress. Sweet!

So, let's talk cutting knits, shall we? After extensive research on the matter, I decided the best way to handle this cunning fabric was to cut on a single layer. Knits want to slip and slide, as you handle them, so cutting on one layer ensures that your pieces are symmetrical on the grain. Sure, it took more time than a folded layout, but the other option was pinning down my fold line. I'd rather take laborious than tedious any day. I also used a rotary cutter, to prevent warping with the sheers, and a carp ton (Yes, carp ton. It's a better visual, right?) of pattern weights. It worked perfectly! I'm definitely Team Single Layer, when it comes to knits.

As for the sewing, that's where knits earned my love. From first seam to hem, this dress took me two hours to construct. Two hours! That's with a beginner's learning curve included. There were no darts to sew or pleats to fold, just serging seams together left and right. It would definitely have been more labor-intensive on a traditional machine, but I used my serger for everything but the hem. It was, well, fucking awesome.

Fit-wise, I made a straight size 7 in this pattern. It's a little big in the waist, but the bodice and sleeves fit perfectly. I totally didn't see that coming. No FBA? Really? Knits are so rock awesome. Honestly, if I don't need an FBA for this pattern, I can't see anyone needing one. With a properly stretchy fabric, it should fit sublimely on a myriad of body types. There's a six inch difference between my high bust and full bust measurements and it still worked well. 

Most of this dress was made with a simple serger seam, as mentioned above. The only step I really had issues with was the neckband, which I had to repin a few times to make sure it stretched evenly on the front and the back. Knit bands are cut smaller than the openings they cover, so it took a bit of coaxing and estimation to get it correct. However, once it had been well pinned, it was a breeze. I just ran it through the machine and - voila! - instant fabric finish. The hem was a bit more complicated. Upon the advice of Patty the Snug Bug's fantastic knits article, I invested in some Steam-a-Seam 2 Lite. After applying this magic strip to the hem, you peel the backing off, flip it up the prescribed amount (in this case, I opted for 1/2 inch, unlike the pattern's suggestion of 1 inch), then press. It stayed in place beautifully, while I did a simple zig-zag stitch around the hem. Too easy! 

So...that's it. I made a knit dress! If you have fireworks handy, set off a few in my honor, will you? That's the most terrifying thing on my Sewing Skills to Conquer list checked off. The instructions that came with this pattern, however, are delightfully vivid. There weren't too many missteps to make with such a simple piece, but any possible ones were headed off by the manual. It was an easy, satisfying sew. For my next knit project, I'm considering making a mock wrap dress a la Duchess Kate's engagement frock...in illustrated fox print jersey. Nothing says sophistication like animated vixens, don't you agree?

This is my superheroine pose. Something about the polka dots, stripes, and comfy fabric makes me feel like I could fly up, up, and away at any moment. Just call me Super Sewist. 

Now, after all that gushing, I have a confession to make: I don't actually wear knits, kittens. I've always been a woven girl. Give me a cotton voile or silk twill any day! Before this polka dot jersey, there wasn't a single knit fabric in my stash. Sure, I knew knits were comfortable, but that's what pajamas were for, right? Fashion doesn't need comfort! Such thinking is, of course, ludicrous. Now that most of my days are spent sitting at a computer, typing at furious speeds, I understand the appeal of knits. I don't always want pretty lined cottons digging into my side boob, you know? Unfortunately, my addiction to wovens meant that my only knit wardrobe options were camisoles and sleepwear. Answering the door at four o'clock in your pajamas gets really judgmental looks from the mailman. So, this whole Lady Skater project was not only a pattern test, but a fabric test. Would I feel comfortable in the slinky, clingy, comfy world of knitwear?

Spoiler alert: I totally do. This dress is amazing. It feels like pajamas, but looks like a grown up outfit. I can twirl and move and do jumping jacks in this dress. The silhouette is classic, but the fabric is down right space age. I looooooove it. I want a million of these dresses. More knits please! If you're also on the fence about taking the knit plunge, I can't recommend this pattern highly enough. It's deceptively cute, for such an easy make. You'll be converted, I promise.

The details...

Things I Loved:

• The ease! No darts. No pleats. Just serging. What's not to love?
• The banded neckline! It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but I adore the striped bands with the polka dotted main fabric. There's something very comic book superheroine about the pairing.
• The fabric! It feels like pajamas, but looks like real clothing. Genius!

Things I Changed:

• Nothing. That's got to be a first. 

Things I Would Change, If I Made It Again:

• Change sleeve options. As much as I love the 3/4 sleeves on my version, I would love to have a couple short sleeved versions in my wardrobe, once summer rolls around. This is an ideal Texas summer dress. 

Notions & Fabric:

• 2 yards rayon jersey - $16 (Note: For the 3/4 version, 2.5 yards is called for, but cutting on a single layer reduces fabric waste by quite a bit. You can totally get by on 2.)
• Steam-a-Seam 2 Lite

Construction Time:

• Two hours. Holy carp! 

Best. Christmas. Present. Ever. 

*I'm trying the unhyphenated double-barrel last name out, before deciding on any legal changes. On one hand, family unity makes sense, on the other I'm not giving up my last name completely or sounding like a nursery rhyme, but I don't want a hyphen. So, two names! No hyphen! I'm going to be saying "You know, like Hillary Rodham Clinton" a lot, methinks...

Miss Elisalex Finds Something Blue

Hello, my darling dears! I am late to a party, but that's fashionable, non? The party in question is not, it should be said, a rollicking Wednesday night wayzgoose, but rather a year-long internet fête for By Hand London's Elisalex dress. People love this dress.

People, it turns out, have excellent taste. The Elisalex is a flirty little frock, with her extravagant skirt lines and perfect princess-seamed bodice. She's just the pattern to reach for, if you need a fancy date night dress to knock his/her socks off.

As for me, the Elisalex was just the thing for my date with destiny. 

Destiny and loads of presents are the same thing right? I made my second Elisalex (the first a wearable muslin of sorts, to be blogged shortly) in Italian cotton brocade, for my bridal shower this past weekend. Thrown by my two best friends, maid and matron of honor, I was given specific instructions to do nothing but show up to the shower "in something fabulous." A brocade Elisalex, paired with my new blue Seychelles heels, fit the bill nicely. 

This blue-and-white cotton brocade has been in my fancy fabrics box for about a year, after I impulsively bought it from Fabric Mart. It was $24/yard on sale and, with a buttery soft feel and surprisingly soft drape, was worth every penny. They had a least a dozen colorways of these brocades, but this blue set my heart fluttering. I had to have it, despite not knowing what the heck I'd do with it. It was an auspiciously good buy, because this fabric screams fancy bride at her fancy bridal shower. 

It also, of course, frays like the very devil and doesn't hold stitches terribly well. Why must the beautiful things always be evil? Just once, I'd like a party fabric that's easy to sew up or a purple tree frog that doesn't secrete toxin. 

To be fair, I wasn't exactly easy on this fabric. Despite doing not one, but two, Elisalex muslins before starting this project, I still took a few fit adjustments mid-construction. There were princess seams to tame (after a six inch FBA, which we'll get to in a second) and whimsical skirt proportions to nip the whimsy out of. The seam ripper got quite a lot of usage during this project. 

When muslining the Elisalex, I knew the skirt was going to be problem. It's all very well and good for wee tiny sylphs to wear Marie Antoinette proportioned tulip skirts, but I was skeptical about how one would translate onto my viking warrior princess build. The skepticism was well placed. My hips would have looked right at home participating in the Albuquerque Balloon Festival. So, for this version, I took four inches out of the length and used a size 10 skirt, instead of the size 14. 

It was still too wide. Thanks to the body of the brocade, those hip curves went out for days. I took an additional four inches out of the side seam curve apexes, after sewing it all up. The result is still a pegged tulip skirt, but one of more modest proportions. I dig it. 

Thanks to all the taming I did on the side seams, I also made the executive decision to do tuck pleats at the waistline, instead of the box pleats prescribed by the pattern. They just fit the new silhouette more. Woohoo for massive structural changes, while working with delicate fabric! 

The other major pattern adjustment was the aforementioned full bust adjustment. There is a reason I don't often work with princess seams, y'all. Namely: the six inch discrepancy between my bust and high bust measurements. An FBA for princess seams is already finicky, but adding three inches to a curved pattern piece turns a pleasant, challenging fix into a Herculean labor. My resultant pattern pieces only resemble their foremothers, in that they are on pattern paper and say "Elisalex" on them. 

My center front (charmingly spelled "centre front" on the pattern) still needs a bit of tweaking, but I was too impatient to sew this up last week. It's just a bit too wide at my underbust, which causes a crease, after hours of wear. One more muslin, it is!

If you have a large bust and are looking to do an FBA on a princess-seamed pattern, By Hand London's own tutorial is a great resource. The only caveat is that it will be more complicated for you. There are extra bubbles to deal with and more lines to true up. By the end, you'll have two pieces that you truly doubt the usefulness of. How can a center front piece need six extra length inches? It will work. You just need to have faith...and perhaps a glass of bracing champagne. 

Or, if that fails, tune back here next week. I'm planning a step-by-step princess seam FBA tutorial for large busts. The whole time I was doing mine, I was wishing someone else had told me what to expect. We'll make sure you're not as surprised! 

Original pieces on the left, my darling monsters on the right.

Once again, I'm not super impressed with By Hand London's directions. They definitely assume that the reader has dressmaking experience. For the box pleat, the instructions literally read: "Form the box pleat now." Which is great and all, unless you're a novice who hasn't formed a box pleat before! If you haven't, a quick Google should sort you out. 

As for the pattern itself, it was a breeze to sew up. It's not something I'd recommend to a beginner, thanks to the princess seams and instructional vagueness, but it's a fun little dress pattern. Elisalex is a very chic, modern design, which is what I'm coming to expect from BHL patterns. They definitely have a bead on what young sewists want to wear! 

The Details...

Things I Loved:

• The fabric! Italian designer brocade. Just the words make me feel a swoon coming on!
• The bodice! Once you fit them correctly, princess seams are so fun to sew up and so lovely on the body. 

Things I Changed:

• Cut a smaller skirt, took in the side seams an additional four inches each. 
• FBA to add six inches at the bust
• Did a hand-picked metal zipper at the back. 

Things I Would Change, If I Made It Again:

• Not much! Now that the fit is down and I've tamed the skirt panels, this is a fabulous pattern.

Notions & Fabric:

• 18 inch metal zipper
• Two yards of brocade - $48
• One yard of white cotton shirting for the bodice lining - $6
• Cut a US size 14 bodice, with an FBA, and a US size 10 skirt. 

Construction Time:

• Including muslins, eight hours. 

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