Thursday, June 26, 2008

Interfacing

My latest sewing project has been going just great - bar one or two major mishaps.

The side and shoulder seams went together no problem. However, I then realised that I should have ironed on the interfacing before sewing together all seams. Luckily enough, it is only the front that gets interfaced as the fastenings are buttons down the front. I was able to place the interfacing correctly and iron it on.

I let it cool and then I started to figure out if I was going to have any unfinished edges that needed to be dealt with before I continued on with the collar. I found that there were a few bits where the interfacing had not properly stuck to the fabric. So I got the iron out again. I'm used to interfacing that's white and stiff. This stuff is black and soft. The only way I know that it's interfacing is that one side is definitely sticky.

Once the iron was ready, I started going at the bits that hadn't stuck.

When I got my nice new shiny expensive iron, I kept my old iron. I only use my old iron for interfacing. I'm not sure why but I find that no matter what you do, interfacing glue goes on the fabric, the iron or the ironing board depending on what goes wrong. If the interfacing is a little bit bigger than the fabric and we're talking an eighth of an inch, you stick everything to the ironing board and have to pry it off. If you get the interfacing up the wrong way, you stick it to the iron. And if all goes well, you manage to get it stuck only to the fabric.

Apparently, my iron way too hot this time. Under my very eyes, the fabric started scrunching up under the iron as though it was being sucked up by it. I whipped off the iron and discovered that the interfacing had 1) shrunk and 2) turned hard like plastic. Luckily, in its shrinking, it had pulled itself off my fabric. Thank God for small mercies! I had no more fabric and the fabric was from last year so there was no way I was going to be able to get more. I took the scissors and very carefully snipped at the interfacing so that it relaxed and the fabric could flatten once again. This left me with an interesting shaped hole in my interfacing and fabric underneath that had tiny little black dots - the interfacing glue.

Very gingerly, I took some more interfacing, a cooler iron, and re-interfaced the hole. That's the one nice thing about interfacing. It's a bit plug and play. You can use bits of interfacing and still make it work. I was back in business.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

'Cuse me, Miss

All of a sudden, I saw her again. My eyes widened and I came to a rapid conclusion, "It's so unfair. I hate her" It's not personal. I don't know her. I'm sure if I did know her I would think she was a wonderful person. To be honest, I'm a little bit jealous of her - ok, I'm a seething pool of jealousy.

First of all she's taller than me

and she's thinner than me,

not that I need to be taller or thinner. That's really not the issue that I have.

She always seems to have good hair days.

If I remembered to buy the right product, I too could have good hair days.

The real issue is her clothes. Quite simply I haven't seen her yet wear an outfit that I didn't want - and I mean really want . I rarely look at someone and think, "Wow I wish I owned that." But she's a walking advertisement for clothes I wish I possessed. Today she was wearing a khaki dress that had safari influences. And I immediately wanted the dress - it would look fabulous on me! And I even have shoes that would be a perfect match. Except that she was wearing it and I have no idea where she bought it. I didn't want to run up to her and ask. That tends to freak people out. Plus she had bought it so if I bought it, we could end up wearing it on the same day, which would be awkward.

And then she would hate me.

But at least she would know that she was taller

and thinner

and had better hair days than me.

And that ought to be enough to keep her happy.

I mean, it doesn't bother me. I only want to know where she shops. Maybe I could become her new best friend. We could go shopping together.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Transfer All Markings

After you've laid out your pattern, and cut the pieces out, the instructions will blithely say, "Transfer all markings from the pattern to the fabric."

It sounds so easy and so quick. I was taught, in the best seamstress tradition, to transfer all markings using tailor tacks, great big loopy ones. You then cut all the loops, remove the pattern, gently tease away the two fabric pieces and cut the loops in the middle. Brilliantly easily. Brilliantly time consuming.

I have been told that I should be using transfer paper. As far as I can tell, it's paper with chalk brushed across it. I get it on my hands, next on my face, on the pattern piece but never on the fabric. If I do get it on the fabric, I can't see it after two seconds.

I've started another project. Goal is to have it done in time to wear this summer. (Keep your smirks to a minimum, thank you very much.) It's silk. I've never sewn with silk before and this stuff is slippery. (You can stop anytime.)

I decided that I would try and use the transfer paper. I spent a good ten minutes trying to figure out which colour would show up best on my fabric. End conclusion, none. I managed a faint thin line, which I instantly had to go over with a marking pen. (It's ok, I checked it would wash out first without leaving a mark.). I then spent another ten minutes trying to pin together the back darts. I then had to try and make sure they were actually the same length. Grrr. By this time, I was realising that silk moves, in all directions. So once I had my darts pinned, I then went and basted the seams to ensure that it wouldn't move while sewing.

So for the front darts, I went back to the old fashioned tailor tacks. In my mind it was somewhat faster and less frustrating. But now at some point I'm going to have to pull them all out. And I know from experience that there is always one or two that get sewn into the seam and you can't pull them out. This is when you realise that using bright fluorescent pink thread, so that you can see it, was a mistake. And the next thing you discover is that you're trying to pull threads out using tweezers so that you can take it out one hair at a time.

I'm sure there is a magical way out there of "transferring all markings" but no one has let me in on the secret. And when they did, it turned out to be more work. Next suggestion please!

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

New Sewing Machine II

Someone wanted to see a picture of the new machine so that we could celebrate - even though I don't like electrics. I don't like collecting electrics that is. And getting an electric when I thought I was getting a hand crank . . . well, it's just not the same.

The new sewing machine is a bit of a mystery. One of the first things I did was to look up its serial code on Singer's site. This makes it around a 1904 - and it has a shuttle not a bobbin.



However, it had the plate of what I consider an electric from the 1920's to have.


And there's the fact that it looks like an electric and electrics for the home didn't become common until the 1920's:


I'm mystified by the shuttle. I have a treadle machine and it has a bobbin similar to what you find in today's machines. However, it's a White not a singer. I also have a handy little motor to motorize your treadle sewing machine and it's not like this.

So I think it's an original electric and something's odd with its serial number.

(The machine works - once we replaced the plug.)

Monday, June 02, 2008

New Sewing Machine

Surprise bags. Unknown value. As a kid, they got me every time. They had a set price and an unknown content, albeit within a certain category. The candy ones contained candy. It was up to you to avoid choosing the bag with the sucker. The ones from a hair and accessories shop would contain that. It was by only by carefully sorting through the bags taking the time to feel them, shake them and gauge their heaviness that you would arrive at a decision. You then forked over your cash and ripped open the bag. I got enough good stuff to keep me going back.

I have decided that I have enough treadle sewing machines for now. The size of my living quarters has imposed this decision on me. So it was with some interest that I noted the prevalence of table top models so far this year at garage sales. However, they were electric so I was not interested. Old electrics don't interest me. By the time they were electric, they had stopped being pretty and had become utilitarian.

I was browsing through one garage sale, noting the lack of anything remotely interesting. It was mainly tools and tool related things. Then I spotted a table top sewing machine with a cover. It could be an electric or it could be a hand crank. I wandered over and pulled on the cover. Nothing. So I looked for the latch. Still nothing. As I'm poking away at the cover trying to locate how it was attached to the base, the seller came over. "It's locked," he said slowly. "I'm not sure where the key is. I had it somewhere."

I looked at him. It was clearly locked and it clearly needed a key.

"Perhaps we can find a screw driver" he continued." Someone else went off to find the screw driver. The old locking mechanisms are simplistic. As long as you can jamb something down the hole that will turn, then you can unlock it. After a bit, the person came back. The smallest screwdriver they had was not small enough. I knew that I could get it open at home. I just needed to know what was inside.

"What's it look like?" I asked.

The man gave me a funny look, "It's black and it says Singer on it. "

"Is it in good shape?"

"Yes, that's why I bought it. It makes a nice decorative piece."

"Is it a hand crank?"

"Yes."

I looked at the cover. Beneath it lay a hand crank sewing machine of unknown quality. It was marked $20. I hummed and hawed briefly. I had no idea what it looked like but it was a hand crank. I don't yet have a hand crank. They're as pretty as the treadles but take up much less space.

"Give you $15."

"Done."

So I marched off with my new sewing machine. Once I got it home, I got out the sewing machine screw drivers and choose one at random. I stuck it in the lock at and turned. I heard the satisfying click as it unlocked. Success on the first try.

With great ceremony I pulled off the cover to discover

it was a blimey electric.