Baby, it’s cold outside…

Snow! In October!
Usual for many parts of the world, I’m sure, but quite unusual in my little corner.

I spent an hour first thing this morning walking around with the camera, trying to catch the atmosphere of such a crisp, cold, icy morning in the middle of what ought to be Autumn.

 Snow in October

I walked through the woods, which had no snow at all, but everything was bathed in the most glorious morning sunshine.

Snow in October

The colours were simply stunning. All of the yellows and golds of the fallen leaves, covered with a light dusting of frozen snow just starting to melt.

Snow in October

I’m very tempted to have some of these images made up into greetings cards, to sell at the next Art Market.

Inspired by Soule Mama, I’m also considering the idea of making a calendar of seasonal pictures. I think mine would have to be a little desk calendar though, rather than a big sumptuous wall planner. Because I only ever use my photos online, my camera’s set to a relatively low resolution.

Time to change the settings, or hijack Paul’s fancy SLR, perhaps?

Spellbinding Stout.

Mmmm, Beer.

This is something of a rarity for me!

I’ve been pretty much teetotal for about five years now, for health reasons. I started taking a new medication a week or so ago, and ever since then I’ve been desperately craving Marmite, and a good dark beer. Sometimes you just have to give in to these things…

 

When I first moved to Reading in 1993, I made a lot of very good friends in my local Wychwood pub. Black Wych on draught was definitely my tipple of choice back then.

I’ve also painted the lovely lady a number of times. In 1994/5 I was roped in to paint all of the chalk boards in the pub, and the Black Wych was featured, of course. Many years later the boards were all updated by the brewery, but I was asked to come in and repaint the Wych. For a while she even featured on the back of my leather jacket but, due to an unfortunate paint mixing incident, there was a problem with the blue and her face peeled off. Oops!

All of the original Wychwood artwork was done by an extremely talented illustrator called Ed Org. He has a beautiful website called The Siren Gallery, where you can buy his prints.

Ed does the most extraordinarily detailed drawings, which are exquisite in both colour and black and white. 

If you’re in the UK, I can heartily recommend seeing Ed’s work in person. The small pictures on the website don’t do it proper justice, as you can’t see the incredible attention to detail. 

I have a print of Spellbound, a Sleeping Beauty story, and I see something new in it every time I look.

Another step forward.

Wooden lasts

Look what I’ve just bought on Ebay!  Aren’t they beautiful?

Even better, they’re roughly my size, so as soon as they arrive I can start to make a pair of shoes!

I’ve been reading Mary Wales Loomis‘ book, and doing a bit more online research. I’ve now found a company who make and sell lasts, and a place to buy shoe soles by the pair, rather than in enormous quantities.

Whilst I can’t afford to go on any of the shoemaking courses currently available in the UK, there’s plenty I can do at home, with the materials I have already.

 

If anybody else is interested in making their own shoes, these are the UK courses that I’m currently aware of:

If you know about any others, please let me know!

The things we do for love.

In this case, having your photo taken wearing the latest hat and scarf that your girlfriend’s just knitted.

Colinette Point 5 hat & scarf

Paul’s not mad keen on having his photo taken, but he agreed to let me snap away just this once, so I could have a fabulously manly picture to show off the hat and scarf sets.

These hats and scarves are ever so versatile – as you can see, you can wear them whilst standing in a field, leaning against a tree, and checking your email on your swanky new iPhone, all at once!

Thinking about shoes.

It has to be said that I used to do an awful lot of thinking about shoes – not to mention an awful lot of buying!

I had a hip operation a few years ago, and ever since I’ve had to be a bit more sensible about these things. I wear orthotics inside all my shoes, and I am now the proud (if rather financially-challenged) owner of four pairs of MBTs. They may be expensive, but they are absolutely the best shoes that I’ve ever bought.

However, MBTs are only available in a limited range of styles, and most of them are, let’s face it, not what I would be looking for in terms of a funky or indeed a fashionable shoe.

Being the sort of person who follows a train of thought to its logical if ridiculous conclusion, I’ve spent a while this year investigating the possibilities of designing and making my own shoes.

Skull slippers!

I’ve got as far as making a few pairs of funky slippers (guess what everyone’s getting for Christmas?!), but sadly not a great deal further.

The sticking point is turning out to be the soles.

The uppers can be made from pretty much anything that can be wrapped around your foot. The soles, on the other hand… they need to cushion your entire skeleton, protect you from the cold and wet, preferably be light and flexible… and this is something which is apparently quite difficult to accomplish without access to a convenient shoe factory.

I’ve started to do a little bit of research into how shoes were made in pre-industrial societies, and the answer mostly seems to be, “using skills and tools which nobody has access to any more”. I’m not about to take up wood carving in order to develop a pair of clogs, and I don’t fancy weaving myself a new pair of papyrus sandals every time it rains. In terms of something hard-wearing, I think the Romans had the right idea with their hobnailed soles – the entire underside of the shoe was covered in short metal nails, hammered directly into thick leather.

I’m not certain I want to be clip-clopping about on hobnailed sandals though, so I’m currently investigating cork and rubber soling. Because I’m doing this on a very small scale, I was thinking of buying some rubber floor tiles to go with the cork ones that I have already.

At the moment I have no idea how I’m going to fix these layers to the bottom of my shoes, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out…

Five Scarves and a Hat.

Well, okay, not yet they’re not.

But those are the plans for this little pile of goodies from Colinette:

Colinette

  • Isis, shade Summer Berries – 100% viscose chenille type
    This one’s going to be a plain scarf, I think. It’s pointless trying to work a stitch pattern in chenille yarn, and the velvety soft finish should be interesting enough.
  • Tagliatelli, shade Paintbox – 90% merino, 10% nylon tape yarn
    Destined for a very simple garter stitch scarf. This yarn looks better and better the more you handle it, as the edges of the tape start to fray a little. Paintbox is so bright it’s practically fluorescent!
  • One Zero, shade Marble – 100% wool
    I am absolutely in love with this yarn – both the weight of it and the beautiful subtle colourway. I don’t think a lacy pattern would work with a thick-and-thin yarn, so perhaps something with cables.
  • Graffiti, shade Fresco – 100% wool
    This was my attempt at choosing a manly colour, for a manly scarf. Destined for something with ribbing, I expect.
  • Point Five, shade Tapis – 100% wool
    I bought two skeins of this, to make a new display model for my hat and scarf sets

All of these are destined for the Art Market on November 22nd. 

I have to admit that I did spend rather a long time squidging the parcel and poking at each individual skein before I wound them up into these pretty little wool cakes.

I may also have had a little game of “when I own a wool shop…” which is a part of my imagination that I like to retreat into every now and again. My Imaginary Wool Shop sells many things that I can’t buy locally, such as Colinette, and Addi needles, and the lovely Brittany ones which I’ve heard wonderful things about but never met in person.

But mostly, My Imaginary Wool Shop has a sofa, and a swift and a ball winder, and a library shelf, and a lot of friendly, happy knitters.

Biased.

I seem to have had a bit of a disaster.

I’ve been making Butterick 4975, a pretty drape-fronted bias cut dress.

Here it is from the front.
Apart from the fact that it’s not centred on the stand, with a little imagination, you might believe that this would come out okay. The drape at the front needs sewing into place, the bodice needs lining, and the whole thing could benefit from a good steaming, but perhaps it doesn’t look all that bad.

Disastrous Dress!

And then you look at it from the side.

Disastrous Dress!

I’ve never seen anybody with a spine quite that shape, have you?

There are several problems going on here:

  1. The front drape isn’t sewn in, so the side seam is falling towards the back. Okay, that can be corrected by adding the front drape. But…
  2. The whole dress is smaller than the measurements stated on the pattern. So once the drape’s sewn in, the entire dress will be much too small on the hips. This may be down to inaccurate cutting on my part, or the fabric not having as much stretch as it really needs. (Maybe both.)
  3. As well as the zip not lying flat because the dress is too small to drape over the hips properly, it’s also not lying flat because I’ve managed to stretch out the bias of the fabric whilst sewing it in. Oops.
  4. Even if I were to sew in the drape and fix the zip, I’m still not entirely convinced that the gathering at the front is going to be flattering. It’s very poofy.
This was my first try at sewing on the bias, and I don’t think I’m going to even attempt to try and wrestle it into the shape of a nice dress.
Sometimes it’s better to know when you’re defeated, and back away slowly!

Kyoto Hollyhock Corset

Here’s what I’ve been working on for the past few days – a corset made from a beautiful Alexander Henry quilting cotton. The design is called “Kyoto Hollyhock”, and it’s swirly red leaves on a black background.

Rhona's Corset

I’m really pleased with this one, although it’s not shown to its full effect in the picture. It gives a waist reduction of four inches, which will give the wearer a staggering seventeen inches difference between her waist and her hips. Those are the same proportions as Dita Von Teese! My dress form couldn’t accommodate that difference, but I can assure you that this corset is going to look sensational.

With each corset I’ve made, I always seem to have a crisis moment, after I’ve put the bones in but before I’ve added the binding. Will it fit? Can this really be the right shape? In that stage, a corset looks absolutely dreadful, but once the binding’s on, a real transformation takes place. Suddenly it’s neat, and almost finished.

It’s always very reassuring to put the eyelets in, lace it up, and see the finished piece in three dimensions.

Hand Knit Hats & Scarves

Colinette Point 5 hat and scarf

Yes, it’s that time of year again!

I’ve worn my woolly hat and scarf two or three times now, which makes me wonder whether there are any of you out there with cold heads and necks… or maybe you have a chilly friend or relative who might appreciate a nice woolly Christmas present? 

So, Hand Knit Hats & Scarves are now available to order.

I may have accidentally done a little shopping at the Colinette website, so hopefully I’ll soon be able to bring you a better picture than my scruffy old hat and scarf that could do with a trip through the washing machine!

I’m also knitting up a nice warm pile of assorted scarves, to take to the next Art Market on November 22nd.

You can see the knitwear I have currently in stock, over at Etsy.

Complex Curves.

So far I have made a grand total of seven and a half corsets. Two for me, four for friends, and one which is still under construction. The first one I made from a commercial sewing pattern, and it was such a ridiculous shape (even for a ridiculously-shaped garment like a corset) that I decided that drafting my own patterns was the best way forward. This plan was also borne out of two abdominal operations and an ongoing stomach-ache, which means that I don’t like to be squished too much around the middle.

Now I appreciate that seven and a half corsets doesn’t make my anything even faintly resembling an expert! But eleven years as a dressmaker, plus a year of fitting bridalwear, does give me some sort of clue as to the range of shapes and sizes in which the female form can manifest itself.

Here is a work-in-progress picture of the corset that I’m making at the moment:

Rhona's corset - in progress

You will notice that it has peaks and troughs, where it doesn’t lie flat on the table.

This is because (shock, horror) people aren’t flat.

I frequent a number of online communities for corset wearers and corset makers, and time after time I see pictures of completed corsets, often beautifully made, lying completely flat on a table.

Of course, the primary function of a corset is to reduce the size of the wearer’s waist. The best way to make this reduction very apparent is to do this by taking all of the reduction out of the side seams of the corset. This results in an extremely dramatic silhouette, and a very flat corset.

The trouble is, once again, people aren’t flat. They don’t squish only at the sides. My back, for example, has an exaggerated curve. If I were to wear a corset where the sides had been reduced but the back was straight, there’s no way it would be comfortable for me to wear. I also have a rounded stomach, so I need to make allowances for that in the shape of my corset, even if the intention is to make it appear as flat as possible.

My eight-panel underbust corsets are about the simplest style it’s possible to make whilst still taking into account the curves of the wearer. If I wanted to go for a much more precise fit, taking into account the shape of the wearer’s ribcage, or the curvature of their spine, I’d probably be looking at doubling the number of panels, in order to accommodate the complex curves.

(Complex curves is also the reason I don’t take orders for overbust corsets, by the way!)

 

Of course, the principle that people aren’t flat doesn’t apply only to corsets.

Kathleen at Fashion Incubator, for example, has two extremely interesting articles which explain why your trousers don’t fit.

And because most “industry standard” (as if there were any such thing) clothing is made to fit a B-cup, a great many of my customers are either women with larger breasts, or smaller women with curves they’re not “supposed” to have. Oh, and plus size women who don’t have shoulders like a weightlifter, which is what a great deal of clothing apparently expects from them.

 

When I become a Proper Fashion Designer (stop laughing at the back!), I can assure you that my clothes will be designed for, and modelled by, a whole range of different shapes and sizes of woman.

Believe me, this is going to be much, much more difficult than buying a set of slopers or a grading scale or some pre-set CAD software. If I use those, my clothes will come out the same shapes and sizes as the ones you see in the shops. And that rather defeats the object of making clothing from scratch in the first place.

Apparently I’ve never been one for doing things the easy way…