Thursday, 3 December 2015

Jen attempts to develop style: finished projects review

Following on from the "pictures of things I've worn and liked" post, I thought I'd try a "quick and dirty evaluation of things I've made" post. Here is everything I've ever made and posted (up until the writing of this post), reviewed in one sentence or less, divided into three categories by frequency of wear.

Things I wear a lot:


(Probably the least 'me' thing I've made, but if I keep everything else simple and dark I'm comfortable enough to get a lot of wear out of it)


(Super useful pullover summer dress)


(I mean, I don't wear these three a lot right now, but it's December in London and common sense is still a thing)


(I'm surprised how useful this one has been)


(Love it, but might remake it - some of the construction bothers me)


(Again, surprising, given occasionally indecent stretchiness. Apparently that doesn't bother me as much as I thought)


(Love this and wish I had more of this jersey)


(Best skirt shape)


(BEST SKIRT)


(Really great dress, will make more, but need to be aware that I won't like it as much if I make it in a neutral colour)


(I need to get over my fear and make another pair of trousers)


Things I wear occasionally:


(It's a bit big and it's not very well finished, but it's still purple and swishy)


(This annoys me because I really like it, but there's a disconnect between style and fabric; it's a basic cotton cushion fabric so it doesn't feel fancy, but when I wear it as a regular dress people ask me what I'm all dressed up for)


(This is great, but because it's SO high-waisted it doesn't go with that many things)


(Turns out this isn't an everyday dress. Also I want to buy myself a softbox)


Things I hardly ever wear/have never worn:


(I think this needs some fixing. I often go to put it on and take it off again because it's just too baggy in the shoulders)


(This photographs so well but it goes with literally nothing else I own)


(This wasn't the right fabric for this top)


(Too short and too itchy)


(Zip needs fixing)


(Zip needs fixing)


(I've had this for about two weeks and so far no suitable occasions have arisen)

Things I can learn from this:

1. I need to work on my zip insertion
2. My success rate is higher than I think it is
3. Having put them all in a list, my makes aren't as schizophrenic as I thought they would be
4. I need a defined purpose and pairing for everything I make
5. The biggest reason for my not wearing something is poor fabric choice
6. I wear prints more than I think I do, but since I hardly ever mix them I need an equal amount of neutral things
7. FIX YOUR MAKES, JEN
8. Very bright + very dark = happy Jen

It is now time to work out exactly what I'm going to do with all this information I've acquired. Slapdash analysis time!

Monday, 30 November 2015

Vogue designer dress, or ARGH

I saw this dress (Vogue 1395) on Lladybird, and I wanted it. The pattern seemed easy enough to get hold of, but there was no point if I didn't have the right fabric, I told myself, and I wasn't going to find a lovely black fabric with a pretty cherry print like that, was I? So I left it, riiiight up until the point where there was a half price sale on Vogue patterns and I was having a bad day and needed cheering up. It only sat in my pattern folder for about a week before I found some pretty black floral fabric of indeterminate make-up at Walthamstow Market that I thought might work, and I started making the dress the next day.


So, obviously it doesn't look as good as Lauren's, but then I'm new at this. Also I am so glad I read about her experience with this pattern, because the instructions were absolutely fucking terrible. This was the first Vogue pattern I made (I made this one pre-red skirt and am posting things out of chronological order because I'm a rebel now), and it put me off sewing up any of the other Vogues in my stash in case all their instructions were like these (luckily, they don't seem to be). I spent literally an hour and a half trying to work out how on earth to put the shoulders together, and I'm sure what I did isn't what it told me to do.


So in many cases, I did what she did. I did French seams (for the first time ever) rather than double-stitch all the seams because I am never going to double stitch all my seams without being given a bloody good reason, I took the shoulder seams up by 4/5cm because the neckline was all huge and loose and gapey, I entirely ignored all of their hemming instructions and I'm fairly sure I didn't put the facings on the way the instructions told me to either.


It has an overlay attached at the back which wraps round and ties in the front. It does not appear to enable the wearer to fly, which is a mark against it in my book.

I also didn't understand their instructions for sewing the elastic casing, though I'm not sure whether that's more my fault or the instructions'. So I literally just sewed the elastic onto the seam allowance of the skirt, which is maybe not a great long-term option, but meh. By the time I'd got to the elastic I was a tad bit annoyed by this dress and wasn't really thinking about its longevity. Also the hems really need redoing - I recently acquired a stupid cheap overlocker from Lidl because apparently that's a thing, and it looks easy enough to do a rolled hem on those.


RANDOM CHANGE OF SCENE FOR ONE PHOTO ONLY. Somehow the lining ended up being longer than the outer skirt even though I did a tiny hem on the outer fabric and a huge one on the lining. This was an earlier photo, in which you may or not be able to see that I accidentally folded the hem towards the outside because I am a moron. I've cut that off now, so hopefully the dress looks like a bit less of a derp in the newer photos.

Having finished this dress, I do like it, though I'm not sure when I might wear it. I was hoping it would be a good dress to go dancing in, but because of the way the overlay sits the ties ride up and create a boob shelf if I put my arms up, so I don't think it'll work for that. Also it's a bit short, and I'll definitely add to the length if I make another one. But since I've got very little negative ease in the elastic, it's incredibly comfy and will be an excellent dress for massive dinners.


You all wanted to spend some more quality time with my amazing shoes, right?


BEST SHOES. Oh, the dress? I might make it again in the summer, by which time I'll hopefully have a better handle on how to make the process of constructing this thing less of a pain in the arse.

Thursday, 26 November 2015

Jen attempts to develop style: previous hits

Most of the style overhaul advice I've read suggests starting off with a mood board. I've tried a couple of times to do a style mood board thing and I just can't get it to work for me. I understand the rationale, but there's always a disconnect between what I come up with picture-wise and what I would actually wear. So I'm not going to try that this time; not yet, at least. Instead, here are some outfits I have loved in the past, represented through photos which are mostly very poor, but we can work through it, right? Right. Let's go:

1. Grey fitted jumper and red tulip skirt




My favourite outfit six years ago, which I would say was the time I felt happiest about my wardrobe. I don't have a photo of the top, but here's the skirt, which I am obviously VERY excited about: high-waisted, bright red tulip skirt, mid thigh length with pockets and a thick black waistband. The jumper was thin, fitted, in a mid to dark grey with mini shoulder pads.

2. Black dress and grey wrap




I only have these two in separate photos. As you see, one photo is very small, and the other features me in a pink pointy party hat, because why wouldn't it. Black short-sleeved dress with neckline/shoulder seaming detail, fitted through the top with a drapey skirt which probably has a technical term but I don't know it. What's the technical term for 'random folds of fabric'? The wrap was literally my favourite thing ever until it fell apart - I got it from All Saints and they called it a 'pirate cardigan', but now they're calling something else a pirate cardigan and it's not even remotely the same. It was basically a cross between a wrap cardigan and an infinity scarf and I LOVED it. I've never found anything else like it since, and I'd buy another one in a heartbeat even though it fell apart rather too quickly for the amount of money I spent on it.

3. Black wrap dress



My hair looks like a wig here. Basic black wrap dress, wore it to death, sure I still have it somewhere but can't find it. If I ever find it again I will be working out a way to clone it. Oh, also, this blue thing? I bought it from a market in Galicia about ten years ago and I wear it constantly, as a scarf, as a wrap, as a sarong, as a shoulder-protecting device when it's sunny. I'm not sure what I'll do when it dies.

4. Black strawberry print dress, black belt, black leather jacket and tape measure necklace



I was looking for a photo of this dress, and I found two featuring the whole outfit, which would be great except for some reason I am a) looking far too excited about M&Ms, and b) standing in a bath. Oh, Past Jen. Anyway, I really want this necklace back. It's a tape measure twisted into a heart that I bought way before my sewing days and it would be my favourite thing ever now if I hadn't lost it. I would also be wearing this belt all the time if I knew where it was. The dress is a printed chiffon over black lining with shirring round the waist and little cap sleeves (and a LOT shorter than I remember it being), and the jacket is a very thin leather with a draped front which I still have.

5. Blue lace dress



This is one of my favourite ever photos (photo courtesy of the amazing Fred Lindbom; dipping courtesy of the equally amazing Alexis) and I love the colour and style of this dress, though not so much the way the lace overlay started unravelling really quickly. Hmph. I got a lot of wear out of it in the short space of time before it became too tatty, though.

6. Burgundy silk dress




Dress has split sleeves and a wrap effect at the front. I wouldn't normally think of wearing bird print but I loved this dress. It was also surprisingly versatile and I used to wear it quite a lot; not to work or anything, but it was my go-to "thing to wear in the evening" for quite a long while. The second photo doesn't add much but it makes me smile.

7. Short sleeved red jersey dress



This is the kind of dress that was my go-to a couple of years ago; simple pullover jersey dress with a fitted bodice and flared skirt. I wasn't going to put it in but I seem to have been photographed more in this dress than in anything else I've ever worn and they're all great memories, so here. In my long-hair days, dancing in Genoa with Micky, who is basically a unicorn in human form and we love him for it. Photo credit: Alessandro Cabella

8. Jeans and black vest top




Apparently posing in baths used to be my thing. These were my favourite, favourite jeans. They were the best-fitting jeans I ever had, I felt amazing in them and I wore them long past the point I should have thrown them out. I got them from Oasis at the same time as I got the red tulip skirt, and after that they apparently had a complete overhaul of style and fit because I've never found anything I like in there since. Omnipresent grey wrap again in the second picture, where I am on a carousel because that's what grown-ups do.

9. Mustard dress and black belt





Gah, I miss this belt. This was one of several long-sleeved fit and flare skater dresses that I had from Asos before Asos quality dropped massively. Here are two photos of me in Venice - one that shows what I'm wearing and one of me pissing about with a lamppost.

10. Cream jumper and shorts




I'd forgotten how much I liked these shorts. I wish it was easier to find ones this length. (Giant chair and fake old lady because why not.)

11. Bright pink party dress



A bonus one; this is by no stretch of the imagination daywear, but I would be remiss not to include it because I'm not sure I've ever felt so good as I did in this dress. Bright pink Karen Millen strapless satin minidress with some kind of origami pleating thing at the front. I can't wear this anymore but I'm never getting rid of it.

This is about as much as I can do from memory and Facebook photos. Going back through photos of me trying to find ones where I'm wearing day clothes that I liked has been a bit of a slog - there are 20+ photos of me in a Goth ballerina dress, about a dozen in a hooded Santa dress and approximately forty-six million of me in stupid wigs, but decent photos of normal clothes? Can't help you.

From this we can pick up:

- a lot of black, red and blue
- quite simple
- short skirts
- shoulder detail
- knee high boots
- oh, black tights, I love you so much
- very dark or very bright
- assuming we ignore the bonus dress, easy to wear
- that one belt was really great
- there aren't a whole lot of sensible photos of me in existence

I will be doing something very important and useful with this information (I assume), so hold that thought and we'll come back to it in a couple of posts' time.

Monday, 23 November 2015

I see you shiver with pantici...

...pation.

(I'm sorry. I don't even call them 'pants'. I just couldn't not.)

Behold my first ever pair of me-made trousers:



These are made from Sew Over It's Ultimate Trousers pattern, and I went to a class to make them. I'm really glad I did, because I never would have got a pair of trousers that fit from this pattern otherwise. Not to disparage the pattern at all; it's just not designed for people with as much hip as I have, and if I'd gone through and followed the instructions diligently, I would have ended up with a pair of trousers that looked perfectly fine until I tried to put them on and expose everyone to the tight hip/loose waist/baggy crotch/odd length extravaganza.

After trying on a couple of pre-made toiles and doing a LOT of in-progress fitting, I made the following changes:

- added 1cm to the hips on the pattern
- added 5cm to the legs on the patten
- omitted the front darts
- swapped out the long, thin back darts for a couple of huge squat chunky things half the length and two and a half times the width
- pinched about 1cm out of the crotch seam
- added a slight tapering to the legs
- taken another 1.5cm or so off the waist once I got them finished and home in true slapdash fashion (no, it's not proper tailoring, but the waist fits, so I don't care).




These trousers have a concealed zip down the side. I put mine in, put the trousers on, did the zip up, and the zip immediately split. Note to self: shoddy market zips maybe not the best idea. They also have a faced waistline, which I'm not especially keen on, so if I make this pattern again I'll probably stick a waistband on.



I think for my first attempt at pattern-matching checks, it's pretty good. I know quite a few people thought it was a bit rash of me to use this kind of pattern for my first ever pair of trousers, but once we'd got past the 'have I cut it out right?' bit I was actually really glad to have it. You've got built-in guides all over your fabric! It's great! It is entirely possible that I'll take all of this back the first time I have to cut something out with no assistance from Julie the Magical Sewing Fairy, but for now I say, Yay Tartan! More tartan trousers!



These are by no means perfect trousers. The waistline isn't completely even (particularly around the zip), and despite understitching the facing and sewing it down to all the seams it still likes to bubble out of the top. I may make this pattern again, but not without a waistband of some sort.

However, another pair of these is not what is next for my trouser-constructing journey. Oh, no. My next trouser project will be a pair of Jen Trousers made from a completely accidental self-drafted pattern. Yes, accidental self-drafting. Story coming very soon...

Thursday, 19 November 2015

Jen attempts to develop style: introduction

So, five months into this whole learning-to-make-clothes lark, I have approximately two dozen finished garments of varying quality, a stack of unused patterns, and a cupboard full of fabric which boasts extremely limited compatibility with any of my pattern stash (used or otherwise). I'm not sure I like this whole stash thing; I think I'd much prefer to see a pattern I want to make and then go out and buy fabric for it. I have no plans for at least half the fabrics sitting in my cupboard and most of the projects in my queue will require me to go out and buy yet more stuff, and any attempts to do that will result in so much pressure to only buy the exact right things for these very specific projects that panic will ensue and I will end up with yet more stuff I can't actually use. Ask me how I know.

My wardrobe in general feels a bit all over the place at the moment. Vintage Swing Dancer is fighting with Sleek Lines which is fighting with All Of The Colours which is fighting with Please Don't Notice Me (ugh, depression) which is fighting with Please Explain To Me Why I Am Not Phryne Fisher Yet. All of which is fighting with my tendency to impulse buy things I will never wear, or will only wear for a very specific occasion which may or may not ever happen. As a result, most of my clothes don't go with each other and getting dressed can be a bit stressful. I would rather this wasn't the case, especially right now when I've just quit my job and am trying to recover from a year of fun with anxiety and depression.

I go back and forth on whether I would want to develop a uniform, or at least a go-to shape and style. On the one hand, SO much easier. On the other hand, limiting (my boyfriend has a very specific personal uniform and sometimes complains that it's now impossible to get dressed up for anything because all his clothes are exactly the same). I used to have this - short-sleeved jersey minidresses with short sleeves, fitted bodice and flared skirt, with black tights and flat shoes. It mostly developed for practical reasons; i.e. I spent all my time dancing and that was the most comfortable thing to wear. Plus with sleeves and black tights I didn't have to bother about keeping a regular waxing schedule NOT EVEN SORRY HAIR REMOVAL SUCKS BURN THE PATRIARCHY. This go-to died out because I was buying cheap dresses that lost their shape and/or shrank pretty quickly, and when I stopped dancing as much I didn't really have the incentive to buy more of them. I don't think that's where I want to go back to; I tried one on the other day and felt "meh" enough about it that I didn't buy it even though my mother liked it and it was an amazing bright blue colour that I really ought to wear more often.

So I've decided that in order to make my wardrobe, my sewing, and in some small way my life make more sense, I'm going to write a bunch of posts to help me work through it. I'm going to attempt a multi-part trial and error series, borrowing a bit from Colette's Wardrobe Architect project but mostly just me futzing about. There are a lot of traps I could fall into here:

1. Searching for a pattern that most closely resembles my previous go-to dress, regardless of whether that's still the right thing for me
2. Not finding the right things immediately and latching onto something that isn't really me
3. Not finding the right things immediately and giving up in despair
4. Trying to make myself fit into a particular style rather than finding a style that fits me
5. Thinking I need to have all the answers before I publish anything and getting stuck because it turns out that I don't
6. Writing so many lists that I never get beyond the list-making stage

Ideally, I would like most of the garments I acquire next year to be working towards a broad common theme, with the occasional ridiculous experiment thrown in because we still have to have some fun here and ruts aren't fun. Hopefully through a combination of planning, reviews, analysis, experiments and reminders that it's fine and actually helpful to be shallow every once in a while, I can achieve Wardrobe Happiness at last and not stumble into quite so many sewing blocks. Here goes.

Monday, 16 November 2015

UODPH part two: Wren

I had thought the Colette Wren dress would be one of the later projects from my October haul, probably fourth. I figured I'd want to space my knit fabric and woven fabric projects fairly evenly, and since I already had the fabric for the Tiramisu and had been planning to make a Moneta for longer, the Wren would probably be de-prioritised. Also I still wasn't quite sure about it. (Spoiler: I was not correct to be unsure about it.)


But then I instituted a two-out-one-in rule to help me achieve the goal of all my fabric fitting in its designated cupboard, and while trying to sort through what I had that could be immediately used, I realised I had a remnant of pink ponte knit of the exact dimensions specified for version 1 of the Wren. It seemed like fate; there would be more space in my cupboard, and I could try an initial test run of a) the pattern and b) the company on a piece of fabric I paid £3.99 for. Result.


(Possibly this is my "Result" face)

I settled down to start cutting and immediately hit a snag. When deciding what size to cut, I looked at the finished garment measurements, saw that the pattern was designed to have two to four inches of negative ease at the hips and went HA HA HA NOPE. I am not going to be wearing negative ease on my hips. I'm not saying I will never ever wear negative ease on my hips, but right now that is not a thing that will be happening. So instead of grading out to one size larger in the hips as I would ordinarily do, I graded out two sizes larger. Which is fine, but the 1.5 metres of fabric wasn't enough for that. Luckily I also had a ton of black ponte from the same remnant bin, so I decided to colour block it (also, two fabrics used! One new fabric for me!). Once I'd started cutting it I panicked that a bright pink and black dress would look too 80s for words, and not in a way that would seem deliberate, but eh. It was only a test.


(I cannot explain this pose to you. I'm sorry.)

The first thing I did was sew the skirt up, because that's what I was most worried about. I tried it on and it seemed to fit perfectly. It wasn't the super-fitted "here is my ass" type of skirt that I think they were going for, but for what I wanted, it was great. Going two sizes up in the hips gave me somewhere between zero and a fraction of an inch positive ease, which gives me a nice silhouette without pulling and make me feel self-conscious. I will possibly make myself a carbon copy of the skirt and put some kind of waistband or facing on it, because it seems like the perfect work skirt, for when work is a thing again.


I moved on to the top. "Hem with a twin needle", it said, and I thought, hey, this is just a test one, I could try the twin needle, everyone says it's really easy. If I had to sum up my first evening's attempt in one word, it would be GRAAHHHkcjnbvhruuogb (or something to that effect). My machine ate the fabric, which it hasn't done in months. The threads kept tying themselves in knots, and once one of the threads managed to feed itself directly through the middle of the other thread. I have no idea how. I eventually got the neck edges hemmed, but it took me 40 minutes and about nine or ten complete rethreadings of my machine. I put it to one side, discouraged and disgruntled.


But I would not be defeated. I WOULD finish. I came back to it the next day having read up on how best to tame a twin needle, and I managed to hem both my armholes with only one reset. I was pleased. When I hemmed the skirt, I got it all done in one go and felt extremely accomplished.

BRAIN: We did it! Now for decorative topstitching in bold contrasting colours!
ME: You do know this hemming isn't actually straight, right?
BRAIN: Tra la la...



I have a tiny bit of weirdness around the bust, as you can probably tell from the flashes of bright blue bra you're getting in these photos. I'm not entirely sure how to fix that; I think I need to raise the armscye slightly and possibly even go down a size in the shoulders then try doing one of these full bust adjustment things. Basically, though, I'm really happy - it gave me more grief than I was expecting, but I can see how this would be a fairly easy pattern if you're a bit less useless than me. I think it's super flattering and having gone up the extra size in the hips, really comfortable as well. 


Also, let us stop for a minute and admire my amazing shoes. They are from Miss L Fire and they are bright yellow suede and they are super comfy and I LOVE them. They cost a lot more than I generally spend on shoes (I don't like shoe shopping because I have weird-shaped feet that behave themselves when I'm walking around the shop trying shoes out, but start screaming in agony when I try to wear any shoes I've actually paid for. A lot of money has been wasted this way), but my boyfriend instituted a "when I get my first paycheque from New Job, we're each getting a pair of entirely frivolous shoes" rule. I highly recommend this rule for anyone looking to win at being a boyfriend. Having not really worn yellow anything since I was eight, I'm now convinced it goes with everything. You will be seeing a lot more of these shoes, and you may get sick of them. I, however, will not. YELLOW SHOES.

Anyway, dress. We were talking about a dress.

Boyfriend's assessment at the trying-on stage: "It's not even that 80s. I was expecting much worse from what you said. It's actually just quite a nice dress." Then he noticed that I hadn't sewn the bodice and skirt together yet and starting poking me in the midsection, because our relationship is largely based around being quite childish quite a lot of the time. 


I have plans for a couple more of these - one in this style with long sleeves, and one with a gathered skirt, possibly in the aubergine print jersey I've been hoarding (once I've tested the other skirt out on something, because I am completely terrified of making a mess of that material. I'm not sure why it's such a block, it wasn't even that expensive in the grand scheme of things). I also need to make a cropped jacket to go with this, because it is very much not November attire, even with this weird-ass fake November we have going on at the moment. 


Yay Colette! I'm so glad this worked out, I wanted to like you so much that I think I'd have been a bit upset if the dress hadn't come out well. Next stage: see if the Moneta works as well for me as it seems to have done for every single other person I've seen in one. I have high hopes now.