Back to the fabric stash

3/5/14

So, I’ve been writing recently about mindful consumption and buying handmade shoes. A few years ago I wrote about Value versus Cost, and sneaked inside a post on vintage sewing patterns, I wrote a mini essay about ethically-produced jeans.

I’m trying very hard to be as responsible in my own shopping as I possibly can. My trousers are ethically produced. My yoga pants are organic cotton. My shoes are handmade. I try, as much as possible, not to support mass production in terms of clothing.

But, like everyone, sometimes I fail. I got very, very excited about these Yellow Submarine Vans, so I “treated myself” and bought them. (Ten months later, they’re sitting on my shoe rack having been worn only about half a dozen times because they don’t fit right and they’re not comfortable, so there’s a lesson for me!)

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Shortly after I’d bought them I got very excited about some almost-matching fabric, so I “treated myself” to that too. It’s cotton, but it’s not organic, and I had it sent over from America. I’m currently sewing it into a shirt that I can wear with the Vans. (Hopefully the shirt will actually fit, at least!)

I’m always a sucker for a novelty print, and in fact I’m currently waiting for the arrival of a parcel containing a shirt’s worth of this Lorax-print fabric. It’s coming all the way from America again, and at least it’s organic cotton this time. But while I was shopping I popped in a couple of other half-yards “for Milly”, and “to make the shipping costs worthwhile”.

That’s when I realised that I was basically making excuses to myself, to justify the purchase of cute things that I liked the look of, rather than thinking about what I actually needed, or how it was made.

Bishopston fabrics - straight out of the box

Given that I still have metres and metres of this lovely handwoven organic cotton sitting in my sewing room (bought all the way back in 2008, before Bishopston Trading closed down), I really have absolutely no excuse for buying any more fabric right now. Okay, so plain colours of cotton are not as fun and exciting as hilarious novelty prints. (And you know I do like a certain amount of my wardrobe to be hilarious!) But I can make up for that by printing simple designs myself… over-dyeing the fabrics… adding embroidery or lace… wearing lots of jewellery or knitted accessories… or just enjoying the nature of the hand-woven, hand-dyed material.

After that it’s time to go on a different kind of shopping spree I think – doing some research into what lovely new ethically-produced fabrics have become available since the last time I looked. Now that does sound exciting!

Speakeasy

I can’t tell you how excited I am to see these fabrics! I’ve been waiting literally years for these types of prints to be available in the UK, on sustainable fabrics. Once again, the Organic Textile Company have outdone themselves!

The prints and colourways are closely based on designs from a book of 1920s textile patterns, and they’re printed onto a handwoven organic cotton and bamboo blend. I absolutely love their other cotton/bamboo fabrics, so I can’t wait to get my hands on some of these!

The hardest part is going to be deciding which of the prints and colourways to choose. I think the centre print, “Roaring Twenties” in purple, is my absolute favourite, and I think it will go very nicely with some plain purple that I have in the Shed already.

Now all I need is for everyone to head over to the Inexplicable Emporium and buy a few things, so I can afford to buy enough of this gorgeous fabric to make some dresses, which I can then put back into the Emporium!

(Don’t forget coupon code “LIFEBEGINS”, for your 40% discount  throughout September…)

That didn’t go well…

Silk noil dyeing failure!

Last night, in my rush to have a piece of dyed fabric to work with today, I brewed up some tea in the urn and threw in a big piece of silk. Unfortunately, I didn’t really think through how much dyestuff I was using compared to the amount of fabric – and the answer turned out to be not nearly enough.

Silk noil dyeing failure!

The silk had been in the tea urn all night, but you can see that it came out almost exactly the same colour as it went in. The very weak colour of the dye solution is another clue that it simply wasn’t going to work!

Silk noil dyeing failure!

As I was emptying the tea urn into the bath I cleverly managed to kick the spout, which poured scalding water all over the top of my foot. Not my best move ever. It damn well hurts, and I don’t quite know how I’m going to put shoes on to go to work tomorrow. (I don’t have any ballet flats, all my shoes fasten over the instep. Ouch.)

Silk noil dyeing failure!

This is the finished colour of the fabric – almost exactly the same as before I started. It does have some rather nice iron stains (an experiment in modifying the dye with rusty nails), but they’re so spread out that they just look like a bit of an accident. Perhaps another dip in the tea urn with a darker dye will make them look a bit more purposeful. You can see below that the fabric has changed colour a little bit… but it’s far, far too subtle for my liking!

Silk noil dyeing failure!

I do this often – not the dropping scalding water on my foot, thank goodness, but the mad rush to have something prepared for my one day off during the week. Once a month there’s an odd junction in my work rota where I work all weekend and don’t get two days off in a row that week. My following day off always seems extremely precious (and a long away away from the previous one, even though it isn’t really), and I invariably put too much pressure on myself to get lots of creative work done that day. Sometimes that pressure works really well and I get lots of sewing done (such as the orange jacket I made on Thursday and wore to work on Friday), but sometimes… well, sometimes you get days like today.

Emergency Craft Box

The house move is panicking me too, as my new sewing room is also going to be the box room until we can get some flooring put down in the loft, so I don’t know how long it’ll be until I can get everything unpacked. Thankfully my knitting will remain accessible (it’s currently squashed into the storage end of the sofa), and I’ve packed myself an Emergency Craft Box. This contains lots of embroidery, plenty of sketching materials, and lots of small bits and pieces that I never seem to get around to. I might just pop a few bits of needle felting kit in there too. I may not get around to making use of any of it, in all the disruption of the move. But it makes me feel much calmer about it all to know that if I want to, I can.

ORANGE wool jacket

Orange Wool Jacket

Words simply cannot do justice to how INCREDIBLY BRIGHT this fabric is. Ridiculously orange, with teal, magenta and a little bit of yellow thrown in for good measure. In case you hadn’t guessed, this fabric is LOUD.

I think I bought it in Chepstow last year, in a fabric shop that was absolutely piled to the ceiling with goodies. This was everything that was left on the roll – 160 cm long, 150 wide.

Orange Wool Jacket

The pattern is one of my own, that I tested in cotton jersey earlier in the year. Irritatingly, I was so busy with the Emporium that I didn’t take any photos, but it’s very comfortable and I’ve been wearing it a lot. This style is perfect for wearing to work, where it can be quite chilly on the front desk, but it looks daft to be sitting there with your coat on.

It’s a double herringbone wool tartan, with a little bit of boucle running through it, for those who care about such things. The lower sleeves are cut on the bias, with a little bias cuff. This allows them to stretch a little bit, but not too much. There are no fastenings at the moment, although I’m contemplating covered buttons and little loops of selvedge to pop them through. I’ll wear it a few times first though, and see how it goes.

Orange Wool Jacket

I made absolutely no attempt to match the stripes at any of the seams. I didn’t have anything like enough fabric to try, and I don’t think it really matters. The only thing I want to change next time though is to eliminate the top seam on the lower sleeve. It doesn’t really need to be there, it looks a bit distracting, and it creates a dodgy junction of four pieces of fabric coming together in the same place. In a thick fabric that can be difficult to keep tidy, so it seems best to just get rid of the extra seam altogether.

I’m not sure it’s quite chilly enough to start wearing this to work just yet, but I’m definitely looking forward to wearing it!

Goodbye, Bishopston Trading.

The parcel!

Bishopston Trading closes tomorrow, after 28 years in business. This is the statement, in full, from their website:

“It is with great regret and sadness that we have to announce that, after 28 years in business, the Bishopston Trading Company will close at the end of July 2013.
The village of K.V.Kuppam, where our clothes have always been made, has seen huge changes. An entire generation has grown up since we started. All our workers’ children have been educated and very few are now seeking jobs as tailors, embroiderers or appliqué workers. The problem is even more acute with our weavers. In 1985 we formed a partnership with a community of handloom weavers in the village. Weaving is a traditional craft skill, passed down within families. We helped pay for a scheme to enable weavers’ children to stay in school until they were 17 years old. Many have been able to go on to higher education. There are now not enough weavers in the area to keep up with the supplies we need.

While India has developed financially, Britain’s economy has been slow for five years, and this has changed the buying habits of our customers. Our customers tend to be thoughtful, concerned, cautious people (a bit like us). They worry about the environment and over consumption and debt. They have not deserted us but are buying less – this is particularly evident with our online customers.

We can now no longer continue and wish to close down our business voluntarily and ethically and in an honourable way.
We would like to thank our loyal customers, in Britain and around the world, who have supported us for many years.”

The photos, above and below, are from the one and only wholesale order that I placed with them in 2008. To be perfectly honest, I ordered far too much, and five years later I’m still using it. I may have been a small and infrequent customer of Bishopston’s, but I’ll still miss them.

Bishopston fabrics - straight out of the box

There’s something that intrigues me about their statement though, and it’s this:

All our workers’ children have been educated and very few are now seeking jobs as tailors, embroiderers or appliqué workers. The problem is even more acute with our weavers.

So we’ve set up these co-operatives, and we’ve paid fair wages, and we’ve educated all the children… but there’s nobody left to do the weaving. Because traditional skills, passed down from person-to-person, generation-to-generation, simply aren’t valued any more.

Now I’m certainly not saying that any child, anywhere in the world, should have to forego a formal education in favour of sitting at home with multiple generations of their extended family and learning to weave. But if nobody learns how to weave, or sew, or lay bricks, or install plumbing… because those kinds of practical skills simply aren’t valued in an “educated” society… then how long will it be before we’re all naked and homeless? How bad do things have to be before actual practical skills are seen as anything other than menial?

New Bishopston swatches

I’ve learnt a lot of practical skills over the years. I very much doubt I could remember my Girl Guide training in how to make a shelter and find clean water, but I can still make a damn good stand for a plastic washing up bowl, given enough pea sticks and a handy ball of string! I’m hopeless at cooking, but I know how to make bread, how to make butter, and how to forage for some edible plants. (And how to burn baked beans inside the can into an inedible mush over a campfire. Thanks again, Baden-Powell!) I may not be retting a pile of stinging nettles to weave my own cloth, but I’m learning to spin wool, and I can knit, and I can sew and mend my own clothes. I realise that “naked and homeless” is a shameless piece of hyperbole. And I’m all too aware of the hypocrisy of decrying any skills other than the strictly practical whilst sitting at my computer shouting pointlessly at the internet.

What I’m searching for is balance. Something that seems to be lacking almost everywhere I look right now.

Psychedelic Dress

Psychedelic Dress

This is a test-run of Kwik Sew 3472, a simple jersey dress. It also has options for a knee-length version, a scoop neck and short sleeves. The fabric, I promise you, isn’t anywhere near as loud as it looks in this photo! In real life the colours are much more muted and dusky. I figured that any mistakes I made on this first try wouldn’t show up too badly against this very swirly pattern, but thankfully it seems to have come out pretty well! I think the only change I might make is to shorten it a bit, but I’ll wear it first and see how it goes.

I have nine metres of organic cotton jersey on order, ready to make three more of these – two black, and one purple. That should give me a basic work wardrobe that goes with most of my existing shoes and accessories. My fibromyalgia’s playing me up quite badly at the moment, which is seriously limiting what I can comfortably wear. Separates give me stomach ache. Anything that isn’t soft enough makes me itch. And frankly I need every scrap of my brain power to be working for me through the tiredness, not fighting against my uncomfortable clothes.

I realise this all sounds very dramatic, but unfortunately it just seems to be a fact of life for me now. Wearing uncomfortable clothes causes pain, which causes fatigue, and life’s too short to be exhausted because my stupid jeans gave me a blister. I’m sad and angry about it, because it seems as though I’m going to have to get rid of about 80% of my current wardrobe, including a lot of things that I’ve made for myself over the years. The thought of sending it all off to the charity shop makes me utterly furious that my body has decided to do this to me.

But hey, let’s look on the bright side. I get to make a whole new wardrobe of the softest organic cotton dresses.

Also, I have one really nice picture that Paul took of me at the Frome Steampunk Extravaganza. I’ll show you that one soon.

Floral fabric and vintage knickers

1980s underwear

I had intended to spend this morning sewing, but the temperature in the Shed soon put paid to that. It took an hour and a half for the little heater to force its way into double figures. Brrr! I think this is perhaps the only disadvantage of working in a Shed in the garden – it’s blooming cold when it snows!

By the time I’d spent half the morning sending work-related emails (on a day when I’m not at work, more fool me), it seemed pointless to start something when I have to go out this afternoon to catalogue some more beetles.

So, here are my latest bargains from the weekend!

The fabric is a £3.49/m cotton from Fabric Land, and it’s creased because it’s been through a 60° wash and the tumble dryer. This is a much harsher treatment than it’s ever going to receive once it’s a dress, so I can be confident that it won’t shrink or otherwise misbehave in the wash once I’ve spent ages making it. Paul mumbled something about cushions when I showed it to him. Rude.

The pattern was a bargain from my local Sue Ryder shop, in the centre of Reading, which has a large Retro and Vintage section that I love to bits. I’m not sure whether 1988 (the date of this pattern) counts as either Retro or Vintage, but it was 25 years ago… which certainly makes me feel old!

Anyway, the pattern only cost £2, and although some of it’s been cut up and sellotaped back together (argh!), the part that I really wanted is still intact. That’s the two different styles of french knickers, which I plan to make both in printed cotton and in bamboo. The pattern’s a size too small for me, but I plan to cheat it by sewing with smaller seam allowances.

I wonder whether I actually do have time to run up a quick pair now, before I go off to my beetles…?

Pinstriped velvet coat and cape

The tidy side

Remember when I bought this fantastic Ikea unit for the Shed, and tidied everything into neat little cubby holes?

Today I had every intention of making a hat. I had everything I needed laid out on the sewing table. Instructions, fabric, buckram, wire, lining, curved sewing needles… but no pattern. I knew it was in the Shed somewhere – most likely in the ever increasing pile of stuff I haven’t put away yet.

THE PILE

This is my (technically Paul’s) big comfy chair – where I can sit to do hand sewing. Except I can’t, because on the chair lives THE PILE. Anything that doesn’t have a tidy home yet, or anything that I’m going to “put away in a minute” tends to be dumped in the pile. I knew the hat pattern was in there somewhere, and I found it almost at the bottom – alongside the missing pattern for my niece’s dress. The last time I’d looked at either of those patterns was May. Eight months ago. Oops.

What you can also see overflowing from THE PILE is a mountain of pinstriped fabric. That’s about ten metres of cotton velvet, which I bought way back in the mists of time when I worked in a fabric shop. Scrunched up underneath it was the pattern for Butterick 5266, a pattern for a Victorian-ish coat with a cape. (Now out of print.) In my infinite wisdom, I decided that the best way to tidy this fabric and get it out of the Shed was to finally sew the dratted coat.

Cape and sleeves

So, I now have the cape part, and a pair of sleeves. Unfortunately I have also remembered how much I absolutely loathe sewing with cotton velvet. And the pinstripes aren’t helping either. They look great, but they’re printed onto the fabric rather than woven in, and they’re not printed on the straight grain. Which means that I have to choose either to follow the pinstripes or follow the grain. Not an ideal situation, particularly with velvet.

Pinstriped velvet

Isn’t this lovely though? That glorious moment when the pinstripes actually match at the seams as though I meant it, makes up for a lot. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make up for the frustrating way that velvet moves around when you sew it, even with the usually fantastic differential feed on my machine. So the pinstripes only match beautifully on one of the sleeves, and of course that’s the one where the fabric kept slipping as I was sewing in the lining, because the velvet was off the grain. And the sleeve that isn’t puckered around the cuff? The pinstripes don’t match up at all. Of course.

And that’s the easy bit.

The front and back panels are so big that they each have to be cut twice from a single layer of fabric. And then lined. I think from now on I’m going to ignore the instructions, and just leave out all the fiddly bits that could go wrong. No braid trimming, no side vents, no slits to put your hands through (what are they for anyway? the thing has sleeves!), no loops for the buttons – nothing. I’ll bag out the lining so it can’t slip around, and I’ll sew on enormous poppers with buttons over the top. Or buy frog fasteners.

It’ll be a few days before I can get back in the Shed to finish this off (my Real Job calls), but hopefully I can get this finished very soon. Then I can gleefully THROW AWAY* whatever’s left of the velvet, and rejoice in my decision to NEVER SEW WITH IT AGAIN.

 

*No, of course I won’t actually throw it away. I’ll give it to a charity shop, or donate it to anyone daft enough to take it off my hands after they’ve read this.

[edit] Well, Lisa of Off With Her Head has admitted to being daft enough – so when I’ve finished the cape, I’ll be sending her a big parcel. Look out for pinstriped velvet millinery, coming soon!

Spoonflower Scarf

Portwrinkle

This is a photo that I took in Portwrinkle, Cornwall, in June 2010.

Spoonflower scarf

This is how a part of it looks printed onto silk crepe, by Spoonflower.

Not as saturated as I would have liked, but given that the original image wasn’t quite at a high enough resolution for me to be able to mess with it too much, I’m really pleased with the way it’s come out!

Next time (and there will be one), I’ll have the image printed onto Spoonflower’s silk cotton blend. It’s much lighter, with a higher sheen, and I think it’ll show the colours better than the crepe which has a matt finish.

The image is 36″ (96cm) square, which is about the smallest size that works as a neck scarf once it’s folded in half. I think this will be better in the silk cotton too, as it’ll drape better around the neck. The silk crepe’s a bit bouncy! If I was a sensible, patient person (stop laughing at the back!) I’d have sent off for swatches first, but then I wouldn’t have had the finished scarf back before Christmas.

Now I just need to decide on the best way to hem it, and then I’ll take some photos of the finished scarf!

The Lorax meets Simplicity 1755

This is Simplicity 1755, which I had every intention of beginning to sew this morning. I want to wear it to a wedding next month, and my extra hours at work are continuing, so I need to get a move on in any spare time that I do have. The illustration to the right shows roughly how it will look in the lovely organic cotton and bamboo fabrics that I bought a little while ago.

This morning I received a comment on my post about making a Dr Seuss dress, which sidetracked me a little bit into thinking how good Simplicity 1755 would look in a combination of novelty print fabrics. A little look on eQuilter revealed that lots of Dr Seuss prints are still available

…as are several Beatles prints – although Sea of Holes is sadly gone.

But I’m trying ever so hard to only buy organic or recycled or ethically produced fabric for the clothes that I make for myself, so I was just about to sigh wistfully and close my browser when I noticed something exciting.

The Lorax prints are all on organic cotton!

Wouldn’t this dress look absolutely amazing in a Lorax print?!

And by “absolutely amazing” you know, of course, that I mean “utterly ridiculous”. In a good way.

A further search reveals that eQuilter actually has hundreds of organic cotton fabrics, which is fantastic! Of course there’s then the issue of the airmiles involved in shipping them over from America, but at least there’s only one journey, from their country of origin to me, and the same applies to the (mostly) Indian fabrics I buy.

Uh-oh.

If Simplicity 1755 goes together easily, and it’s comfortable to wear, I can feel a fabric shopping spree coming on…