Forties Blouse, Take Two

It's nearly a year now since I started this blog, and a little longer since I started sewing in earnest (i.e. with the intent to make durable, street-wearable garments).  In even that short time, I've learned at least a couple of things, both technique and personal preference.  I can make a machine buttonhole, I can put in a lapped zipper, I can topstitch denim and flat fell a seam (sort of).  I no longer have to write out the order of operations for each garment before I start--my instincts are better, and I trust them more.  And now, when I set out to design a new garment, I rarely have to start from scratch; there's so much already in my collection to adapt.

Take this blouse:

It took a very long time, and countless re-reads of Peter's men's shirt sewalong posts, to get that pattern to work.  I was, and am, incredibly proud of it.  But with the benefit of hindsight, I can see all the things I could do better.  For one, I hate facings on button-up shirts--they're a pain in the ass to iron.  The collar is okay, but I've since realized that I much prefer more assertive collars, like this one:

I'm excited, too, to try some techniques I'm no longer afraid of, like flat-felling the sleeve and side seams.  Wish me luck everybody!

(Something else I've learned: I love to make sew-in interfacing out of contrasting quilting cotton.  I'm thinking of calling this the Secret Owl Blouse, for this reason:

Happy Monday everyone!)

DIY Roundup Part Two: Rhubarb, Rhubarb, Rhubarb

Greetings friends!  I haven't been doing much sewing lately because my sewing room looks like this:
 

The "Oh My God, I Made These, I'm So Awesome" Jeans

Time I spent talking about making jeans, considering making jeans, idly thinking about making jeans, telling people I was going to make jeans seriously really soon like maybe this weekend: approximately six months.

Time I spent actually making jeans: fifteen hours, tops (counting the trip to Joann's to pick up the denim).

Jeans: high-waisted medium-wash denim jeans with two back pockets, two hip pockets, five belt loops, back yoke, gold topstitching, contrast pocketing & waistband facing, side jeans zip and jeans button.

DIY Roundup Part One: Dairy Projects

Hi all!  I've been off blogging for the past month or so, partly because I took a few weeks of much-needed Laptop Vacation, and partly because my energies lately have been drifting away from sewing and towards what I like to think of as "lifestyle DIY."  I've been having a few thoughts in this direction lately, and when Dear Fiancee came home from her library day job with a copy of Making It: Radical Home Ec for a Post-Consumer World, I was sold.  Readers, I have tried every project in that book that an apartment dweller can reasonably try.  In the past month, I've started an herb garden, cut my own hair, brushed my teeth with baking soda and a cloth dentifrice, made my own lip balm, forayed into traditional food preservation techniques, lassoed wild yeast out of the air and put it to work for me in the form of a sourdough starter, and so on, and so forth.  I figure I've been keeping this to myself long enough: it's time for a DIY Roundup series.

Today I'll be laying out how to make butter, yogurt, and cheese--future posts will be themed around fermentation-based food preservation, apartment-friendly herb gardening, homemade cleaning products, and probably a few more things I can't think of at the moment.  As I'm not an expert in any of these things, often I'll just be referring you to a wonderful tutorial someone else put together.  I hope this inspires somebody!

First, and easiest, is butter.

All you need to make butter is a medium-sized container with a secure lid--I use a quart canning jar--and enough heavy whipping cream to fill about half the volume of your container--I do a pint at a time. It has to be heavy cream, not light--there's not enough butterfat in light cream to make successful butter.

Reading List Part Four: So You Want to Learn Some Primary Source History

With bonus jokes about how the Irish are dumb!

I recently discovered that my university has a Science and Technology library, which contains all the TX books--domestic history!  Ever since I made this discovery, I've been a veritable font of trivia about housekeeping practices of the past.  Did you know that seventeenth century farmwives gave their buttermilk to the poor as charitable sustenance?  Or that it was permissible (even admirable) for a middle-class Victorian housewife to do light needlework or knitting while receiving calls of an afternoon?

The English Housewife, written (or, more accurately, loosely compiled) by a gentleman farmer named Gervase Markham, is the only book you'll ever need for your new life as a seventeenth century English farmwife.  It offers instruction on everything: how to use your knowledge of "physic" (medicine) to cure diseases like bloody flux and pleurisy, which cheeses to put by in which months, the best methods of weaving woolen or linen cloth (not for your own use, but so that you can spot a cheating tradesman), and so forth.  Markham made his name writing manuals for farmers, and at one point there were so many editions of his books circulating that his publishers made him sign a pledge never to write another book about cow diseases.  True story.

I Made Underpants!

I know, I know.

Pilch knickers: in green seersucker with darts, a button placket, and some buttons from one of those dollar-a-bag button lots at my local fabric store.

Dear Fiancee In My First (And Nearly Finished!) Knitting Project