Garment 13: Estate Donation 3: Puzzle (3/5)

Polyester double-knit: all the optimism of the hippy movement, in easy-care wash-and-wear

Background

Twiggy - swinging girl

Here's a puzzle: what to do with a large garbage-bag full of too-small-to-bother scraps of Early Space-Age textiles. None big enough to be a pocket: they should have been chucked when all the pieces of the A-Line Twiggy dresses - and later, the plaid, Mary Tyler Moore pant suits - had been cut. But they weren't, and here they were, 50 years later, in a black plastic bag between my knees, as I sorted donations at Our Social Fabric. An estate donation - I didn't know we had received it, so there hadn't been a chance to thank the donor, or ask my usual questions: who was she? What did she sew, and for whom?

I had only the clues in the one bag, and I wasn't learning much: she sewed. A lot. She liked colour, texture, plaid. She was fashionable, and - despite the unrestrictive fashions of the time - no doubt usually uncomfortable: nearly every scrap was 100%, non-breathing, abrasive-textured, double-knit polyester. She must have been perpetually chafed and sweaty. But she looked good. If not a little pilly.

Mary Tyler Moore - working girl

I wondered: was she on the bus? Did she work? Did she love the Beatles? And why did she save those scraps? What was it about the pieces - too useless, even, for the OSF Free Bin - that caused her to keep them all, and for so long? Too small for garments, not absorbent enough for rags. Not for patches... polyester doesn't wear out. What was she expecting to do with them? I took them home to see if they could tell me their purpose. If not, I would have to throw them out.

It seemed wrong to chuck such hopeful fabric, when it had waited so long: hopeful colours, hopeful patterns, hope for equality, for love, peace and change. Hope for the future. With all that hope, could the pieces really be so hopeless? But there is nothing at all useful about a massive bagful of dinky, ugly, non-absorbent, abrasive, polyester off-cuts... except maybe to piece together like some wash-and-wear, perma-press, crazy quilt. Or something more useful... like a housedress... Or an apron... Or a pop-over! Well! What else could I do?

The back - what a load of scraps!

No scrap was altered in the making of this utilitarian, pull-over pinafore. What you see is exactly what I found in the bag: strange, jagged cuts; long, narrow strips; tapering slivers of psychedelic colours - the negative shapes that remained from making all those fabulous outfits. Three days' sifting produced the right interlocking pieces to accommodate the curved edge of the neckline, armholes and hem. Good thing I like puzzles.

Grain, the Music and Being on the Bus

But wait: there's more! The hang of a garment depends (almost) entirely upon the grain of the fabric, which, in the case of double-knit polyester, should run perpendicular to the floor. This made for tricky scraps placement. Not only did they need to conform to the outline of the pattern, but each piece had to be on grain to prevent wobble and twist. Luckily, there were lots to choose from, and I had Jake Bugg to keep me company!

Jake Bugg

Jake Bugg: the young English singer who caused me to realize we may not be going to Hell in a hand basket, after all. What a relief.

Instead, we are riding the same wave of hope the Beatles rode with everybody else who was on the bus - the Beatles so far in front they seemed to be pulling the wave. They channelled the zeitgeist of the time, providing a sound track to social change that was rooted in hope. That wave crashed, but now is cresting again, and with the aid of information technology it's many times more powerful. Artists like Jake Bugg and movements like Our Social Fabric are riding along with it. These are very hopeful times; we might just yet clean up the mess we're in.

Who is Jake Bugg? He is not his influences: the Beatles, the Everly's, Don McLean, Johnny Cash, Donovan, Neil Young or Hendrix. He is not Dylan, though I see the comparison. But he is special like them. He intrigues me for his honesty, modesty, sharp commentary on his own experiences, and his indifference to public opinion. Like the Beatles, the important thing is the music.
Read the Rolling Stone review of Jake Bugg's first album
Listen to a song: Broken (start at 53sec)

Pattern and Sewing

Solvy, diagonal basting, on freehand embroidery sample

The design was done the usual way, by altering a flat-drafted pattern on a mannequin until it looked just right. However, the sewing is unconventional. There are none of the usual seams. The scraps fit together to form the 3-D shape, sewn edge to edge, without seam allowances. A whole lot of Solvy and diagonal basting* was employed in the construction, as well as some old, abandoned rick rack, which provides the bust shaping and delineates the neckline and armholes. For sewing nerd details, click here.
*You might be wondering: what is diagonal basting? It's a revelation, that's what: the best stitch ever for holding pieces exactly where you want them, prior to machining. It is also quick, and uniquely satisfying.

Pocket and Button

"Buttonhole test" pocket

The hip pocket is made of a buttonhole test, found with the scraps. (What did she save that for?!) The cheap-ola, plastic button - original dingy thread intact - came from a garment discarded decades ago. A new shank was created with special thread from a flight attendant - a friend of a friend - who flew in the days when stewardesses were required to be trained nurses and wore high heels and pillbox hats. On layovers she bought sewing goodies: silk buttonhole thread - lustrous and delightful for hand sewing. Some of the tiny spools are now mine.

Sewing the button on this top caused me to ponder two ways to sew on buttons. One results in a tiny, recurrent thrill, and utilises a toothpick. The other is nifty and quick. Which one did I use?

Spot the two fabrics not from the scrap bag. 
Hint: Cygnet and Authorship

Note to Jake

Thanks for reviving my optimism and for helping me finish this puzzle. More music please! I'll keep checking to see what you come up with next.

Size S-M. Available

For a hand-copied pattern, please contact me.

Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com

Good photography by Jeff Minuk www.lostinkits.com

Puzzle 1: Buttons Two Ways - Tutorial
Puzzle 2: Blatant Advertising
Puzzle 4: Puzzle Top Tutorial
Puzzle 5: Rick Rack Tutorial

Garment 10: Love

Love letter, or recycling gone too far?

Shortly after our son was born my husband declared, "I love him so much I would suck the snot out of his nose. If I had to." With our daughter it was, "Even her poop is not offensive." Now that's love.

Are those pockets, or are you just happy 
to see me?

When the elastic of 4 pairs of my husband's underwear finally, simultaneously, bit the dust, I joked he should save them - maybe I could make something out of them! It was a joke. Really. It was. But, before the end of the day, I had draped the front of this t-shirt, telling myself it was an excuse to play around with the neat, variegated thread I had acquired at Our Social Fabric . I mean, seriously! Who would want to wear something made out of my husband's ancient, discarded gonch? Well... I would! Yep. I love him that much.

Wearing my heart
as a sleeve?

The back is made from a piece of mesh cut three years ago for a rain pants project begun when our daughter started skating lessons. If she loved the ice half as much as I had done, she'd be spending an awful lot of time with wet legs and bottom. Some times my tights would be so wet that when I fell, my legs would freeze to the ice and would need to be hacked free with mittened karate chops.

I cut the rain pants size 7, plenty of time to grow in to them. She's now 8. For a long time the bundle of lavender Gore-tex and white mesh lining sat on my sewing table, ready to go. Then it was moved to a box of things to be sewn soon, but not quite yet. Later it found a spot in a closet of useful, but not currently needed, sewing gear. No matter where I moved it, I could hear it whispering to me between projects, haranguing, becoming progressively louder as it was ignored over time. It got a little aggressive near the end, which is how it comes to be the back of this top, even though not directly related to my husband's underwear.

And will I wear it? Guess that depends on if we can find a sitter on Valentine's Day.

Co-incidentally - and I hope this may redeem me - shortly after I made this little number, we received at OSF a personal donation that included 4 pairs of someone else's husband's used underwear! (We never know just what we'll find in those boxes and bags! That's part of the fun.) I admit I was tempted ever-so-briefly (get it?), but NO! Ultimately I could not do it! Guess I'm just a one-man woman.

Size S-M. Taken. By me, of course! Who else would want to wear my husband's old, discarded gonch? Gross.

Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com 

Photography by Jeff Minuk  www.lostinkits.com

Garment 8: Authorship

This angel top was inspired by a 1967 Stretch & Sew pattern I've made up for myself in 3 different cheap-ola abandoned knits . There are plans for more to come.

I loved the shape and fit so much I started to wondering how much an existing design would need to be changed before it could be considered one's own. More a musing than anything, I still haven't bothered to find out for sure. This lead me to drape the angel top, based on the way the neck edge of the raglan sleeves and bodice pieces fold back to form the square neck facing. It got my brain doing contortions trying to work it out, which says more about my brain than the complexity of the pattern. Sewed it up from more abandoned, cheap-ola, t-shirt knit and even more cheap-ola rib-knit fabric, both of which came from Addie's stash, and there you have it.

The pinwheel is made from stitch samples found in a number of manila envelopes - along with an instruction disk each - that had accompanied brand-new, but now obsolete, computerised embroidery machines. Not old, and no doubt still use-able, but obsolete - like my cellphone. The volunteers at the OSF sorting bee had a good laugh when I asked if anyone might want the disks. We dumped them, and two of us took some of the stitch samples home to percolate. I especially like the pencilled-in stitch type, width and tension notes. Wonder whose job that was, and how much she was paid to do it: endlessly stitching samples to accompany shiny new machines, after the kids went to bed, no doubt. What a job.

The yellow fabric is a snippet from a very large, cheerful, stained, polyester double-knit book dust-cover. It was donated by a woman who told me it was made by her elderly grandmother, a tailor, and had been used to protect a "holy book" in a Vancouver temple. Not sure the exact type of temple... I didn't ask enough questions when the donation came in.

The Delta Airlines pin, "Good Going", was found in a cookie tin of junk discovered on a rummage through the dregs of the Prophouse restaurant when it closed for business.

Creepy '70s ad

I know the design is mine now, because it makes me think of Charlie's Angels, Farrah Fawcett's feathered hair, Love's Baby Soft perfume. To be worn with your best bra, unless you plan on keeping your hands in your lap all evening.

Size S-M. For sale by appointment. 
Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com

Photography by Jeff Minuk www.lostinkits.com

Garment 3: Exploration #1: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

Answer quite slowly

My record player!

I discovered Elvis playing hot potato at Teresa Armstrong's 8th birthday party in 1973, her mother dropping the needle randomly onto that thrilling record to signal us to GO! and doing her best to lift it up again without scratching the vinyl, to STOP! An exciting game for an 8 year-old, but not as exciting as the feeling inside my body when I heard that incredible voice.

I returned home to enthusiastically tell my mom about the new singer I'd just discovered. Turns out, she had been just as excited to discover him, years before. A few months ago I watched my 7 year-old daughter dance around the living room, clutching an old vinyl copy of Blue Hawaii, and squealing, "He's so sexy!" The apples didn't fall far from this fuzzy tree. She, too, was all shook up.

That Christmas I received three Elvis albums. I played them continuously on my plastic Sears Wish Book stereo, writing out the lyrics to the songs as fast as I could. Later, my first CD purchase was a box set of Elvis' complete '50s catalogue. I didn't even own a CD player yet.

The Beatles I discovered over the course of decades. The first of their songs to transfix me was "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". For a period of months in 1980, I repeatedly pencilled the opening line on the surface of my desk in Mr. Humphrey's Social Studies classroom. I was in grade 10. "Picture yourself in a boat on a river..." And she's gone.

Julian Lennon's drawing, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

John Lennon was inspired to write the song when his son returned home from preschool with a drawing he had made of his friend, Lucy. She was in the sky. With diamonds. I, myself, have a painting by my son entitled Vase of Crud and Stuff. There could be a song in there, I suppose, or certainly a garment made of abandoned materials.

Inspiration can come from anywhere. When it does, it is simply a matter of shutting up and letting it come, flowing from the universe through the mind and right down to the earth. I think this is what I responded to as I slouched in my seat, doodling Lucy. That pure, channelled song has been stuck in my head now for 35 years. So has "The Lonely Goatherd", though that one I'm not so sure about.

Back

This top is my homage to "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". The first of two identical metallic blue/brown tunics made of hand-me-down fabric, it features extended shoulders, French darts, French seams, bias trimmed hems and a draped collar with a mind of its own. My very first felting project, I spent 8 blissful hours stuffing the roving fibres through from the front to the wrong side to anchor the loose, discarded threads and serger dregs that make up the lettering. When it was over I ran machine stitching along it once or twice, to make sure it wasn't going anywhere. Guess what I was listening to...

I hope the blue will become crumbly and faded-looking, and the brown will show through the cracks even more. Though the fabric is pre-shrunken, washing gently will preserve the felting.

Answer quite slowly. Or, shut up brain, I'm trying to listen!

Size M. For sale by appointment. Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com

Good photography by Jeff Minuk www.lostinkits.com

Garment 4: Exploration #2: Sie Liebt Dich

Sie Leibt Dich, yeah, yeah, yeah

The "Sie Liebt Dich" top is the second of two metallic blue+brown, over-sized, sleeveless tunics born out of a beautiful relationship with the first garment I ever draped for myself.

The background

Blossom's blossoms. Sigh.

The pink linen top with safety-pin daisies that preceded "Sie Liebt Dich" was inspired by one of Blossom's exquisite embroidery samples, and draped as homework for a collar class. Comfortable and easy to wear, I lived in it all last summer. The only thing is, a draped collar is not meant to go into battle, as Blossom would say. The kiss of death is creasing the gently folded neck edge: no washing, no drying, and certainly no ironing. I ignored this fact completely when choosing the linen fabric and utilitarian design for such a delicate feature as a couture-technique collar. Figured I would deal with it later.

Before: perky

But as I said, I wore it a lot, and eventually it needed to be washed! I went to all kinds of lengths to preserve the collar: I washed it by hand, holding the precious collar out of the water. When it got wet anyway I hung it dry, taking pains to separate the collar layers, thereby keeping the fold uncreased - kind of. I steamed it, wearing an oven-mitt-like protective ironing .....mitt. Eventually, I gave in and chucked the thing in with all the other wash. 

After: flacid - in a good way

It was a sad moment, knowing my beautiful collar was most sincerely dead. After a brief period of mourning I took a look to see if there was anything to be salvaged. Well... the whole thing, actually! It looks terrific! It has gone from crisp, precise, hovering, elegant, full of hope and promise to soft, droopy, relaxed, comfortable, enveloping, wrinkled, creased, experienced and full of character. I loved it before, but I love it after, too! It's like trying to decide which version of my daughter I love best: the smiley, snugly baby who smells like butterscotch; the wobbly toddler with the black eye, splashing in the toilet when I'm not looking; the almost-8-year-old who rubs my back when I vomit "because we're connected, you know". I love them all, and I love the transformation.

The garment, itself

I love it so much I made two copies so someone else and someone else might enjoy it, too. Cotton or linen or a blend, the fabric was handed down to me by a friend. It's a bit heavy, and I expect the colours will crack eventually. Hope so, anyway; it will be good consolation for killing that poor draped collar.

Sie Liebt Dich

"Sie Liebt Dich" is one of only two songs The Beatles ever recorded in another language, the other being "Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand". The German branch of their record label suggested it, convinced their records wouldn't sell in Europe, otherwise. Though they didn't feel it was necessary to their growing popularity, the Beatles all reluctantly agreed, being a little sweet on Germany, having practically grown up there, after all, to misquote John Lennon. The general consensus is that the pronunciation is done well, but they refused to ever translate their songs again. Just as well; they had other, more important, things to do!

Interesting tidbit half-remembered from a memoir by John Lennon's personal assistant during his time in New York: John Lennon did speak some German, but it was phrases like, "How much for the hour?" or some-such. And there exists a wonderful snip of George Harrison being interviewed in German and singing as much as he can remember of a German folk song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj5tmhdcUAA

"She Loves You" is important for these reasons:

• it is considered a landmark in the evolution of song-writing by John and Paul. A seemingly insignificant detail - the story is told in the third person - is the zero point of their radical departure from the typical way of writing songs of the time (e.g. "Hello Little Girl"). One small step for the Beatles, one large step for mankind. You can trace the trajectory directly from "She Loves You" to the perfection that is the 2nd side of Abbey Road, through all the other moments of sublime brilliance, intuition, inspiration and world-changing innovation in between. They channelled the muse, man.
• it captures the essence of the screaming, fainting and unprecedented bizarre fan behaviour that was Beatlemania, before it had a name, and while it was still a novelty. On the day of the recording session, a swollen gaggle of fans broke through the meagre security in the building, resulting in running and chasing and chaos all through the studio. From this point on, the Beatles increasingly became prisoners of their popularity. But on the day of the recording they had no idea of what craziness was to come. The adrenaline boost caused by the hysteria is evident in the recording: it's pure excitement, itself. 
• The choice of the word, "yeah", rather than "yes", ignited social upheaval, and shows how plugged in to the zeitgeist of the time the Beatles really were. The phrase will be forever associated with everything to do with the '60s.

On the decoration

The writing on the garment is made of the threads and dregs that come off when a fabric is serged before pre-shrinking (i.e. what normally goes into the garbage) - in this case a c. 1970 green and white polka-dot polyester double-knit, and a pink nylon tricot, of uncertain age, but likely intended for a slip or negligee. These have been stitched over with freehand machine embroidery - a very pleasant way to spend an hour or two.

On the spelling of the decoration

I struggled with the spelling of "yeah" in German. Ja? That didn't sit right. The top waited, unfinished, for weeks, while I dwelled and asked around. Happened to meet the principal of a Vancouver German school, who seems to have a particular interest in how words become appropriated from other languages. I put the question to her, and after thinking out loud for a bit, she emphatically proclaimed the correct spelling to be y-e-a- h. Just as the Beatles refused strong advice to change "yeah" into "yes", they also refused to translate it into "ja" - of course it should be "yeah"! I admire the Beatles for staying true to their instincts way back then. I aspire to be even half as fearless.

Size M. For sale by appointment
Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com

Good photography by Jeff Minuk www.lostinkits.com

Garment 1: Agenda

Front - one of these arm slits is not like the other

This satisfying poncho is made of three new-but-old mohair scarves that once belonged to a friend's mother-in-law. New because they were unworn. Old because they were acquired over the course of a long lifetime, along with other mohair scarves, sweaters, coats, blankets...

Seems this lady had a big soft spot for mohair, but a big disinterest in wearing it. Or was there more to it? What attracted her to mohair? The loftiness? The luxuriousness? Did it remind her of a place or time? Or a person? Was there an empty space inside her that only mohair could fill?

Why didn't she wear it? Itchy? Allergic? Hot? It reminded her of some place, or time, or person? Was there an empty space in her that no amount of mohair could fill? This is what I wondered while my mind percolated on the weightless puffs - so cloud-like they refused to be properly folded.

Back

I stared at them for many hours over many days before they gave up their secret. Even so, making the only cut was a complete leap of faith. My friend was counting on me. Or was that me?

The construction consisted mainly of pulling and separating the yarns from the edges of the scarves to use for stitching. I wasn't sure at first if I should pull the threads from the long or the short edges, but both proved equally - surprisingly! - stubbornly enmeshed. I don't know much about the process of weaving mohair, but from trying to un-make it I've deduced that it must require some sort of felting step. It looks airy and nearly fragile, but it's no pushover. It took an hour to produce each decent length of unbroken, not-too-frayed sewing thread, regardless if it was warp or weft. After that, stitching it by hand with a darning needle was easy-peasy lemon squeezy.

Back fringe detail

Clues

Small ball of yarn fluff

My only agenda was to create a true zero-waste garment, using all of the 3 mohair scarves, and nothing but the 3 mohair scarves; the rest was up to the mohair scarves, themselves. I came pretty close to my goal. This small ball of fluff and yarn is all that was left. It's earmarked for a future project involving The Beatles starring in their first full-length, hilarious, action-packed film!  "A Hard Day's Night". And some felting. Still percolating.

Note: A tiny brown mark just under the front right collar was original to the scarf when I received it.

Hmm. Maybe she did wear mohair.

Size S-M. For sale by appointment. Enquiries at enoughstuffblog@gmail.com
Photography by Jeff Minuk www.lostinkits.com