awayuq

making a mess

Big plans gone astray. Over the long weekend, I thought I'd get a lot of things cut out and get started on my summer wardrobe and the refashioning project. It didn't quite work out. I began at my closet, evaluating the clothes I have that still fit me and I found that my wardrobe has become restricted to large, loose pants with elastic waists, worn with sweaters that cover the waist, or shapeless dresses with no waist at all. While I work on accepting my body as it is, which they say is the first step to successful weight loss, I would like to sew some things that don't make me look like a flour sack. I could make a bunch more of my favorite elastic-waisted pants, but frankly... is that really going to help? Surely there is another style out there that would suit?

Next stop, the pattern drawer. I wasn't in the mood for developing anything from absolute scratch, though I will in time. I found some patterns I'd taken from dresses in my closet so I got the originals out and tried them on in front of the biggest mirror I have. Then I had to go lie down for a while, realizing that even these would need significant alterations and that any way you slice it--front, rear, side--I am larger than I used to be.

The result of all this was that instead of spending the day cutting out fabric, I spent the day retracing and altering patterns. I like to have standard, simple, well-fitting patterns that I can use over and over and embellish in different ways. Creating the patterns is time well-spent, though in this case I was not overly enthusiastic about it seeing as the alterations were not for design reasons but for anatomical reasons. Still, it had to be done and I very much hope that after this summer I can go back to some old favorites. I have a highly technical and organized way of ordering the patterns as I finish them. They all get placed on the floor.

Patterns I altered included
--a loose-princess line dress taken from a commercial dress in yellow linen. I lengthened it--the original is above my knees and you know, I think I might be past the age when I can look my best in anything above the knee. At least with bare legs. I'm adding a gathered panel at the back for some extra ease over the rear.
--a yoked circular skirt. Added width in the back over the--you guessed it.
--a McCall's pattern for a princess-line top with short sleeves. I retraced it with the petite tucks taken up. I'll make a muslin--maybe it could be lengthed into a dress...
--skirt and pants from the same McCall's pattern. They have darts at the waist and a faced waistband. A muslin is definitely called for, but if they work, I'll have more basics to which I can add pockets, flounces, ribbons, or wild print fabrics.

The refashioning project officially begins on June first. No boughten clothes for six months. The first big challenge will be a wedding I have to go to in July. I do need something special, so I better get thinking what I can make from my stash that will stand up to a formal evening in Lima!

what in the world?

Things you should know in order to understand why this picture makes no sense:
--I have never been an embroiderer. I'm about pattern, not picture; scrolly leafy lettery embellishments have never interested me.
--My favorite colors are bright clear turquoise, brilliant yellow, and aqua blue.
--Pillow covers don't interest me. Because where in my house would I put a pillow?

A few days ago I came across this site. Pillow cushions in crewel embroidery in zingy, bright colors. Wow! I love the designs. I love the abstract flowers and the fully saturated hues. The orange flowered pillow is my favorite. A few clicks later, I found out the designer, Kristin Nicholas, has a book called Colorful Stitchery and in one of life's minor miracles, my local library had it on the shelf. I like those pillows on the cover. Not the plaidness so much, but I like the abstract flowers with chartreuse leaves. They remind me a little bit of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. I wanted to try it.

I cut a scrap of linen, doodled some faint outlines directly on the cloth with colored pencil, and started stitching with cotton embroidery floss. The stitches are stem stitch, chain stitch, and french knots (in the center, the bumpy looking part). Of all embroidery stitches I've ever tried, admittedly not too many, I've always disliked french knots. Therefore I expected the center to be a royal pain, but in fact I quite enjoyed it. There should be leaves on this thing, I think; otherwise it looks like a bizarre blob. Still, there is something about the gloss of the stitches, and creating blocks of color that have texture, which is enormously appealing.

And speaking of color--what's with these hues? Obviously I was influenced by the book since I'd just been looking at it, but really--what on earth can I ever do with this piece? It certainly can't go on display in my house; my walls are painted turquoise and canteloupe. Gold, dark green, and maroon--wow. The total piece is only about 12" square, of which you see only one corner. I doodled 5 "flower" shapes on it and if I fill them all in, maybe I could make a small purse. Then again, not everything has to be useful. I feel as if I've been caught up in a creative tornado, one that screamed "do something totally, entirely different!" and, well, there you go. Another fiber doodle. Maybe it would make a nice patch pocket somewhere.

advantages to being short

I'll never be able to wear Erté, nor reach the top shelf, but at least I can be pleasantly surprised by the quantities of yarn needed to make myself a sweater. I'm on the bottom ribbing with more than two balls left. One will be used to make a shawl collar and finish the front edges. The rest will finish the sleeves. They are not quite at their final length in this (bad) photo. I think I'm going to make it!

At some point this spring I discovered podcasts. By that I mean I indulged in my first listen. Not all of them seemed to me to merit the raves that were going around. But I have to say, I love the Craftypod. Love it! It's my new theme music. I go around the house humming the funky soundtracks she puts in. Sometimes I even catch myself muttering the tag line. I've always sort of steered clear of "craft", at least the kind of craft that involves lots of glue and cheap sparkly things or acrylic felt. It's not really my style. I don't have much knick-knacky kind of stuff, nor do I want any. So, I will probably never make any of the things Sister Diane describes. Still I love to listen to her! She has a clear speaking voice, she does good interviews, her editing is great (did I mention the funky music?), her philosophy is sound. I love this show. I wish it came out every week, or every day.

In other news, I have completed my first year of grad school. Huge whoop of release, huge collapse. I declare--all those things I was aching to do while in the throes of looming deadlines and prepping for exams? Once the last thing was turned in, I didn't have the energy to move. I could hardly get out of bed. I checked out a bunch of old mysteries from the library, baked a batch of chocolate oatmeal cookies, and didn't leave the house for three days. I took a lot of naps. Somehow I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop--to get the e-mail saying "you forgot to..." or the one saying "we're sorry, but you have not passed the required class on..." I can't really believe that it's over. And there's a whole 'nother mess of challenges waiting for me as soon as I have the stomach to face them. The number one question I get these days from all and sundry is "what are you going to do this summer?" Don't know. That's right, I don't know yet so please just hold off a few weeks before you ask me, ok? I'll be travelling, as little as possible.

Now, as to what I want to do this summer, well! There's the refashionista project, and I have stacks of fabric yearning to be made and worn. There's all that knitting. And spinning. A variety of things has made me want to weave again, at least some bands if nothing else. There's so much to be done! Am I the only one who can't believe it's practically Memorial Day already?

flash me some sleeve, baby

Ok, here you go. The Om sweater with half a sleeve. This picture is out of date; I now have most of this sleeve done and have started on the other one. I'm still dubious about the yarn situation. Will there be enough? One skein of yarn doesn't quite make it from the underarm to the wrist. I have a feeling this sweater is going to fully utilize the put-stitches-on-hold technique as I switch back and forth from sleeve to second sleeve to body and back again, ekeing out my yarn as far as it will go. (is that ekeing, eking, or eeking? I suppose it's rightfully eking, but it looks odd.) What would be a truly low-yardage way to finish the front and neck while still allowing for some closure? I'm thinking attached I-cord. The thing about chunky yarn is that it always runs out long before you hope it will.

In other news... a light! I see a light! Two of my major assignments were completed today, as in turned in to the professor, as in out of my hands. Over. Praise be. Now I just have an exam and a couple other shorter writing things to finish up... I can almost see the end! Freedom! I may yet survive!

weaving spears?

Ancient Female Weaver Warrior!

described briefly here.

I'm not a joiner...

but, when I saw the Wadrobe Refashion blog mentioned on Whip-Up, I had to check it out. This is for me! In so many ways!

--I have a stash. Inspiration to use it up instead of reaching for more!
--I need some new style. Definitely. Inspiration to spruce up and stretch out.
--I need to either give away or re-make clothes that no longer fit. Inspiration to finally get around to cutting up some of that pile in the front hall (I missed the last charity pick-up day... I didn't really believe they'd be there by 7:30 am!)
--Budget contraints. Inspiration to stay within them.
--People get good stuff at thrift stores. I need the inspiration to start making the rounds again. I've heard you can even recycle good yarn from thrifted sweaters!
--Maybe, just maybe, this will help inspire me to follow through on my resolve to reverse some of the weight changes that have been creeping around the past year. You know what they say: love yourself as you are. Maybe a creative new image will help.

So, as a part of this wardrobe remaking, recycling, restyling project, I am supposed to post the pledge. Once it's public, I guess that makes it more difficult to go back on my word. Here it is:

The Wardrobe Refashion Pledge

I, Carrie,

Pledge that I shall abstain from the purchase of "new" manufactured items of clothing, for the period of 6 months.

I Pledge that I shall refashion, renovate, recylcle pre-loved items for myself for the term of my contract.

I Pledge that I shall create and craft items of clothing for myself with my own hands in fabric, yarn or other medium for the term of my contract.

I Pledge that I will share the love and post a photo of my refashioned, renovoated, recylcled, crafted or created item of clothing on the Wardrobe Refashion blog, so that others may share the joy that thriftyness brings!

Beginning June 1st. Stay tuned!

(p.s. There is a built in exemption for work/school type clothing. In other words, if I have to buy a hat or something for fieldwork, that's not cheating. Just so you know.)

to Sara

On the future of weaving. Sara Lamb had a post a few days ago on this topic. She does wonderful work which has been featured in Spin-Off and probably lots of other magazines, which I am afraid I’ll mis-cite. I especially love her silk Andean bands. Scrumptious. She’s been wondering about where weaving is headed, and why more young people don’t seem to be taking up the practice. (Notice how I so aptly avoided labeling it as “art” or “craft”? Not a debate I want to get into today. Another time maybe). As a lapsed but ever hopeful weaver, I have some opinions…

1. I began weaving about 15 years ago. At that time, I attended guild meetings regularly, subscribed to all the weaving magazines I could get my hands on (Weavers, you are missed!) and read weaving lists religiously. There were a handful of topics that kept coming up on those lists over and over and over. One was the art/craft question. One was how to sell your stuff, how to set prices. One was why conferences are so expensive. One was… “where are all the young weavers?” No-one had any answers then. I’m not convinced the situation is significantly more dire now than it was more than a decade ago, though I’m open to persuasion.

2. The space issue is real. I didn’t believe this when I started weaving—because I had a full finished basement I used as a weaving studio! When I moved to a different city, into about ¼ of the space I had been used to, I resolved not to let that stop my weaving. I kept my 24” fold-up loom, regretfully gave away my 45” Nilus, and figured I’d become a specialist in kimono-type couture, you know, clothing creatively pieced out of narrow panels. The reality is, I’ve only had two or three warps on the loom in as many years. There are other issues, definitely, but the space issue is real. When you don’t have large blocks of dedicated time, the various steps of warping, winding, threading and so on can seem to take forever and more to the point, take up a lot of space. It’s one thing to have a nicely warped loom with the cloth part woven in your spare bedroom. It’s another to have a loom in the middle of being warped, with chains of yarn all over the floor, piles of sticks, extra threads, lease sticks, etc etc etc.... not such an asset to décor.

3. The time issue is real. Everyone my age that I know works too much to weave seriously. (Well, all the women anyway.) We are building careers, building families, or both. I don’t know anyone whose life lends itself to the kind of time—and not just time but blocks of time--that weaving requires. I used to get up very very early in the morning to make sure I had time to weave. That was when my work week was only 40 hours. Now, when my work will essentially fill whatever time it’s given… does that mean I’ve sold out and I’m not a truly dedicated weaver? Maybe. But I don’t think it’s just me; periodically studies come out about the number of hours in an average work week and surprise, it’s not 40. Add in commute time, cooking time, try to have a social life time, and there’s not much left.

4. Not meaning to offend anyone, and asking pardon in advance for any suggestion of stereotype… I know individual situations differ extremely. But for many people my age, social realities are different than for women born 20 or 30 years earlier. I was once at a weaving conference where a well-know weaver gave a talk to a packed auditorium and one of the first things she said was “I have a patron of the arts. His name is—“ and named her husband. Well—good for her. Lots of the rest of us don’t have that luxury. I could be an expert in lampas too, if I didn’t have to work. I could run an indigo vat too if I were home all day. I could write THE book on you-name-it if someone else was willing to buy all my supplies, pay the mortgage and the utilities, and let me weave all day long five days a week. Obviously this doesn’t apply to everyone, because there are many, many dedicated women of all ages who work and struggle to do things on their own and don’t have the support of a patron of any kind. But I confess, it bothers me when women who say they’ve never had to work outside the home wonder why younger ones don’t dedicate more time to weaving. (And just so we’re clear, I am NOT suggesting that Sara falls into this category by any means. I do not mean to reflect negatively on her queries in any way.)

5. The guild issues are very, very real. I used to attend guild meetings regularly and yes, once helped in a tiny way to plan a huge conference. When I changed cities, I found that the local guild met out of reach of public transport, and in the middle of a weekday. ??? And how do you think you’re going to attract young weavers that way? I was able to attend a guild meeting once (only because I was giving a talk, so I was able to cadge time off work for “professional” reasons) and it seems like a great group of people, some excellent weavers, lots of enthusiasm, and the kind of accumulated knowledge that leaves you in awe. Still—there’s no way I can take a day off once a month. It’s just not realistic.

6. The intellectual issues are real. For all knitters’ angst over the gauge game, the sett/fiber/tie-up/treadlin-order-what-if/finishing game is much more complex and likely to be bewildering, unless you really thrive on challenge. The variables in weaving are numerous and not always well defined. I don’t think there should be value judgements attached to what kind of weaving someone chooses to do—privileging structure over colorful plain weave doesn’t do anyone any good and just leads to shaft envy and similar resentments. And after all, perfect plain weave is harder than it looks. I do think though, for me, that the interesting corners of the field are the places where the boundaries get pushed and experimentation is done. It’s difficult to do this without a sound understanding of drafting, the properties of different structures, and how to manipulate your tools to achieve what you want. It takes intellectual effort, and not all of those who work with yarn are willing to give that effort.

7. In my opinion, we do ourselves a disservice by aiming for quick grab ‘em projects to get new weavers involved. If we come up with a successful weaving equivalent of the fun fur knitted scarf, I do not think it will ultimately be to our benefit. Already we have weaving conferences filled with non-weaving seminars. One of my main complaints about conferences I’ve been to is that the quality of even the weaving seminars is at such a basic level that in many instances, you might as well just sit down with a cup of tea and a copy of van der Hoogt’s handbook and review what you already know. (Complex Weaver’s Seminars are notable exceptions to this generality). Weaving is not a practice that leads to quick gratification. No-one should be discouraged from trying it, but neither do I think we should varnish it to make it appear all easy or simple. If weaving becomes a series of weekend recipies for mug rugs, we are doomed.

8. A comment which I hope is out of date… last time I was keeping track, a lot of the everyday wearable items being produced with handwovens weren’t that appealing. Maybe one issue is that to have a finished object, you often need to add other skill sets to weaving. Some sewing is usually required, even if you just need to hem table linens. Many weavers say they are terrible seamstresses. Judging by some finished garments I’ve seen, I’d say there are times when this is not an exaggeration. Then too, what’s fun to weave doesn’t necessarily make good clothing (or curtains or whatever). If creating something to wear is a strong motivator for indulging in a fiber hobby, as it seems to be for many knitters, then we need to find attractive current styles that can be made with handwovens. Unfortunately, I don’t have any solutions to this one right now, but some solutions probably involve finer setts, which again ups the time involved. A sort of vicious circle…

9. In the end, I’m not as concerned with how many weavers there are as with how good they are. Increasing the weaving population ten-fold doesn’t help me as a weaver if 90% of them only want to follow printed directions for the latest cushion/handbag/tablerunner/scarf in plain weave stripes. I don’t feel squeamish about saying this because as someone who was a knitter long before the current craze, I can honestly say that the cheap chunky simple get ‘em going knit faddish stuff leaves me cold. I’m not saying people shouldn’t publish it and make it, but the sum total of what it adds to the knowledge base of knitting is, imho, negligible. Similarly, I could die happy if I never ever saw another recipe for a woven chenille scarf. The real weavers, the ones who stick with it, will, I believe, appreciate the more challenging stuff: doubleweave, damask, collapse, pique, pick your favorite. Even if they never try it all (because who has time to try everything?) they will appreciate that it’s there, and that is what will keep us moving forward.

Over the past few years I’ve done a lot more studying of woven cloth than I’ve done weaving myself. Thanks, Sara, for getting me thinking seriously about it again and prompting me to remember the challenges and intricacies of weaving.

another deep breath.

You know how sometimes everything is ok, and then you hear something or get some news and all of a sudden you feel as if you were in an elevator and someone jerked the cable? I’m having one of those moments.

There’s really no excuse for it. When I became a student I knew things would be financially precarious. The project I work for just got some news about the most recent grant we applied for. We got funding, but at a greatly reduced rate. They suggest a summer “salary” for me--that would be JuneJulyAugusthalfofSeptember -- that about matches my monthly expenses. I’m trying not to panic. After all, it is a good thing to get funded at all, and it’s not like there are no coffee shops in my neighborhood; worst comes to worst, I’ll dredge up the 15-year old experience making mochas and plead. There’s no reason to panic, yet. Things will work out.

I guess what’s getting to me is that lack of financial security brings up so many issues for me. It reminds me in a gut-wrenching way that I am the only thing between me and poverty. It’s just me--no husband, no generous boyfriend, no rich aunt or uncle. It’s true that I have relatives who have helped me a great deal in crises and I’m very grateful for their assistance. But they can’t support me continually and I pray I never have to ask it of them. Ever since I started working at 15 I’ve been terrified of ending up a bag lady. One of those women with a shopping cart who has no home, no heat, just the sidewalks and the trash she picks up. Or, maybe worse, one of the invisible elderly we pack away into terrible “homes” that smell of urine and tinned green beans. I’m more than a decade older than other people in my program, and I feel so out of step. What I want to be doing right now is creating a safe, domestic haven for a partner and children. Not happening. I thought by this time in my life I’d be thinking about college savings for my children, not me. It also reminds me what a gamble grad school is. I’m in a field where jobs are notoriously scarce. Of course I value intellectual endeavor. Of course I value scholarship, and academic freedom, and ok go ahead, accuse me of being an intellectual snob: I like being around smart people. But a sudden potential gap in the income spectrum makes me wonder: is it worth losing retirement funding for this? Is grad school reducing my statistically already negligible chances of finding a long-term partner? Is it worth having no savings, no financial cushion, and potentially no skills that are marketable in a non-academic world? I have to keep reminding myself that I can find a way to market myself; I’ve done it before, I did it right out of undergrad when I had significantly fewer skills than I have now. I’m going to do my best not to decline into an impoverished, lonely old age. But it is scary. And all of the uncertainty reminds me forcibly that I really don’t like where I am living. For what’s available, I have a good situation, I realize that; but I hate living in the city. And excuse me, a place with more than 19,000 people per square mile is a city, I don’t care what New Yorkers say. Yes, you read that right; my non-city city is the fifth densest populated in the US as of the last census. My mortgage is quite high. Sometimes I think about selling my condo, but the fact is that rents aren’t much cheaper, and I initially bought so that at least I’d be putting a pittance towards equity. Not to panic, but a close neighbor with a comparable place has had it on the market for a year now, and it hasn’t sold yet. Which doesn’t make me any more confident about being able to realize that equity should I need to.

So... a perfect time to go back to the Om sweater. It now looks like a sweater, no? I’m down to the body part. Now I’m just worried about running out of yarn. I’ve already used three skeins of 10. I’m trying to judge how far I can go... I think one skein might be enough for each sleeve. Which would leave me four for the rest of the body and one for a collar. That should be enough, but I think I’ll start on a sleeve next to see how far I get. I may have to alter the plans; I wanted a shawl collar. I could live with 3/4 sleeves, if it comes down to it. I could add bordering stripes of a different color if it turns out to be really scanty, but I hope I won’t have to.

I liked the sleeve increases and wanted to echo them in the side and underarm “seams”. To keep the stitch count even I have to border them with a pair of decreases. It’s simple, but harmonious. I like it; it keeps this sweater basic but still interesting enough to endure knitting.

And finally--thanks everyone for your kind comments on the doll couture. I’ll let her know :)

little sewies

Last weekend's distraction. The doll is a modern replica of a mold that first came out in 1926 or '27. I bought copies of vintage patterns from the era to make her a wardrobe. They really suit her; I'd love her to have a whole trunk of clothes! I made no attempt to find vintage prints, this outfit is created from stash, but it would be fun (if I ever have the money) to go looking for reproductions or old clothes that could be cut up. In the meantime, I enjoy creating quasi-old-fashioned looks with modern materials. Her hatband is tacked together on the side with an old mother-of-pearl button

and you can also see the bow in the back of her dress.

The doll is 14" tall, which is not particularly small. Creation of clothes no human will ever wear may seem frivolous (if I'm not going to be sewing for me, shouldn't I be making baby quilts for a shelter or something?) However, I find that it can hone one's sewing skills. Precision is a must; handsewing is almost always required. And recreating vintage things gives one a chance to practice techniques that may not be so common nowadays. This outfit was pretty easy, but try scaling it down to about half that size--you'll quickly see what I mean. It's harder than it looks to create something good-looking in miniature. I like to think of my doll creations as stretching the boundaries of my skills.

And now about me--the print collection for wardrobe summer '06:

YUM! Have I got plans for these! I'm going to try to wait until I've finished all my papers to cut into them. It will be my sweet reward for surviving this year. Only two more weeks... or so... but I don't know if I can hold off that long! I'm really excited about the bright colors (not unusual for me) and the large-scale blossoms (quite unusual for me). It's going to be a riot.