Built By Kristin*

*And Scott

If you know anything about sewing, this effort might seem juvenile. But consider: It represents our first attempt at a) reading and cutting a pattern b) cutting out fabric c) machine sewing d) understanding the mechanics of a machine and e) interpreting sewing terminology (another freakin' language).

And if you think I'm going to show you the inner seams you are high on drugs.

Love it - But then I'm Biased aka Sewing Puns Are Endless

FabricLand is the coolest place. Seriously. And sort of scary too.

Nicole and I decided to get there early last Saturday - our plans thwarted by a once-in-a-decade power out in the Hudson's Bay Centre. We arrived and the place was closed. Till noon.

While we waited we talked about sewing books and other stuff and even checked out Holt's recently raised "holiday display". Yes, Holt Renfrew had its Xmas shit out in full form on Halloween day:



It's entirely whack, I realize.

Brief aside: You really should check it out because the yummies (candy, tea, chocolate, coffee etc.) are entirely beautiful and special. The irritating SA stopped me from taking photos because "it's against the store's policy". I guess so is free publicity. Whatevs.

But back to FabricLand: There used to be one on every corner. Now there is but one downtown location. I guess, in light of this, it shouldn't surprise me that it was packed to the gills (esp given the power out inconvenience) but I was shocked to find so many shoppers! And a good third of them were men?! (Really, I didn't imagine anyone sewed anymore, much less men.) Hideously, the power problem meant the store was literally 30 degrees celsius. It was torture with our winter coats and all the crap we were amassing as we browsed. Alas, we perservered.

I'll cut to the chase, in case fabric shopping doesn't thrill you: We found a really helpful SA who spent 2 hours with us giving us pointers on everything from suitable patterns to how to iron on interfacing. She was terrific. And I got this discount card (20 bucks) that instantly saved me 3x that amount. And I bought a lot of stuff.

I realize that it's not within everyone's means to kit out all at once, and it's certainly not in everyone's philosophy. But I really believe that it's key to being ready to learn. If I a) don't know what I'm doing and b) haven't developed skill then I really need all the help I can get, no?

The beautiful thing is that, being so well-equipped from the excursion - I had all I required to get going on a pattern. I bought 2 - a simple a-line skirt (and denim with which to sew it) and a jersey shell (with a subdued peacock blue wool blend knit). I opted to start with the skirt, though both purported to be equally easy, because I didn't have any experience with jersey - or ANYTHING for that matter - and, as yet, I had not purchased a walking foot (a gadget to help with this kind of sewing in lieu of a serger).

The skirt, a New Look pattern, was called "Easy 1 Hour!". It took me 15. But who's counting. I'd never sewn a stitch before I started and it took me hours to figure out my machine and do testing and read stuff and look dumbfounded at the horrendously badly-written technical directions. And then there was the time required to feel my feelings. Of inadequacy.

At this point I have to give mega props to Scott who went through the entire adventure as a true partner. Every time I considered hurling the machine out the window, he suggested beating it with a hammer instead. :-) Seriously, he figured out all the crazy instructions and the machine and made half of the finished product.

This process hasn't been easy, per se, but it's been so interesting and exciting I can get with the confusion. In fact, having made one skirt, I decided to start on another immediately after. Yes, the week of a huge work project-deadline, I opted to spend a night measuring and cutting a skirt for M. I want to give it to her for Xmas. The pattern is similar (from the same packet) but a diff model (in the tiniest size). Don't even get me started on pattern sizing. You know why Marilyn Monroe was a size 12 in 1960 - because that's what a freakin' size 4 is now. I've heard this countless times, but only now do I fully understand it.

Question: I could write a post or 2 about the "best way" (i.e. my way!) to buy things to support your new sewing habit. But maybe this is less than interesting to y'all who have no intention of ever taking up sewing. Let me know. That could grate like sandpaper on a disengaged audience. Thoughts?

Gross Domestic Product

I have to level with you. I never took home ec. Not a semester, not a class. I went to this rather academic school where, it was determined, skills like nutrition and sewing would only get in the way of one's running the world. Motto: Ladies pour tea. Women change the world. (Note: I'm not running the world.)

And yet, I would have had so much more fun for the opportunity to learn these fabulous creative arts / life skills in a classroom. Don't get me wrong. I had my hands full with chemistry and calculus (which I absolutely sucked at) and French and English etc. Lord knows, I needed the time I would have spent enjoying learning how to cook on figuring out meiosis.

But let's consider the facts: Sewing teaches spatial reasoning and three-dimensional thinking, algebra and geometry, patience, proportion - and a freakin' skill you can do something with! Nutrition / cooking is absolutely essential. As a society, we are coming to realize this while a third generation moves toward adulthood with little understanding of how to make an omelet or boil an ear of corn.

Of course, girls and boys both need these skills. Just as it's helpful to know how to build things (the skillsets are very entwined, those who know both subjects - unlike me - will tell you). My husband has the mind of an engineer. He doesn't read the manual (though he can). He feels it takes the fun out of the process. He's not afraid to make something - to make mistakes. In his world, that's self-sufficiency. Given my background, it's unheard of. I know I've said this before: my people are outsourcers. We don't fix it. We call someone who is trained to fix it. We don't make, we buy.

Having said this, I've discovered in my adulthood - in the years I've been with Scott - that I am a creative person in a very pragmatic sense. I build food (esp. baked goods), sentences, songs, outfits. And now - I am starting to build clothes.

I get this. I love the feel of raw material in my hands. I love the alchemy of production. I love starting with nothing and ending with something and letting it be ok if it's not perfect, because there's always a next time. I am so glad, at this stage, to recognize that skill is five parts planning, one part patience and a little bit of luck.

So I will show you my new project (just gotta stage some photos and this week has been insane) warts and all. But first, I'll tell you about my awesome trip to FabricLand. Coming up next post.

Who's Counting?

Hey Peeps: I'm going to be a bit inactive blog-wise this week, not because I don't have anything to say (trust me, it's exciting times here), but because I've got a major work deadline that all happens on Friday. It's the culmination of months of work, and I'm optimistic it's all going to land well -but now the push is on.

Let me say, though, that I will post about my fab forays into fabric/sew shopping and actually making something. Yeah, I know, it might have been prudent to wait for my many books to arrive by mail, or my sewing basics course in mid-Nov., before I started to make clothing... But I didn't say I was careful :-)

Word to wise: My 1-hour Easy! pattern - took 15 hours.

(And yet it was a great learning experience.) But oh, my neck and shoulders.

Breaking News (Ha!)

A while ago, before I decided I seriously had to get a grip on my cooking habit for the good of my thighs, I bought Michel Roux's Eggs (companion of sorts to his recent book Pastry, which I've written about before). This book is a beautiful resource, which shows how to use eggs - chicken and then some - in endless ways, not simply in omelets and quiche but in sauce, souffle, ice cream, desserts etc.

The photography is beyond lovely and, in true Roux fashion, the recipes are simple, elegant and clear. But impressive!

Ever wondered about the relative sizes of all the eggs produced by all the birds you can imagine (from emu to ostrich to quail to goose)? Well then, this is the book for you.

I'm sure I don't need to convince you that the egg is one of the most awesome and useful foods in nature. A mini universe, each egg provides complete and delicious nourishment and is useful in just about a million contexts.

I fully intend to put this book through its paces - as soon as the holiday season comes around. I'm trying to exercise a bit of baking control for a while - though given my work stress and the move to dark, dank winter I've been finding my calories in the form of chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

Maybe I should try eggs instead.

All Wrapped Up

In case you're in the market for a new bag - this one's on Laws of General Economy now...

Don't you deserve a lovely green bag for November??

Method Sewing

On the weekend I went to see John Irving at the Harbourfront Reading Series. My friend Nicole, she of the sewing fame, kindly invited me to go and it was an awesome event. Intriguingly, Mr. Irving opted to spend most of his allotted reading time to a discussion - well, monologue really - of his "creative process". This was both fascinating and irrelevant (as far as I was concerned). I mean, seriously, his process isn't mine and, even if it were, I don't have his brain to back it up. Nonetheless, it's intriguing to learn about the strange creative paths of others.

So I bring you: Kristin's Creative Process re: New Pursuits. Trust me, it's really interesting.

1. I identify the interest i.e. sewing. (This stage can be nebulous and inactive for years, btw.)
2. Something coheres to catalyse activity (In this case having a friend who's been sewing for a year was encouraging. But, being treated by Scott to a sewing machine(!!!) galvanized my move from theory to practice.)
3. I read every book I can get my hands on.
4. I read everything on the internet I can get my hands on.
5. I watch every video on the internet I can get my hands on.
6. I talk to friends who know what they're doing.
7. I talk to strangers who might know what they're doing.
8. I buy magazines on the topic.
9. I look into the history of as many facets of my new pursuit as possible i.e. the mechanics of the sewing machine (in this case), the history of textile production etc.
10. I take courses at reputable studios (M and I are signed up for Sewing Basics in mid-November).
11. I get set up in the best way I know how - get all the accessories I'll need, find clean workspace with best light etc. - and work with the best materials I can justify purchasing.
12. I make Scott learn half as much as I'm learning so that when I get stuck he can help me. (He has much more patience than I do.)

And then, truly, I immerse myself so fully in the new activity that I think about it constantly. I dream about it. I can't shut up about it.

That's when the word "enthusiasm" starts to look like "insanity".

But let me say this about that: I'm not half-assed. When I give something a go I take it on to do it with as much skill and experience as I can bring to it. And, if I do it well, I know it's because I've worked my butt off. And tormented a few people.

This post is dedicated to them.