Gzhel

Yesterday was Transfiguration, and on Saturday, I pulled this skirt out of the naughty pile where it had been since late spring.

I made it in April or May out of a very small gifted remnant of fabric, and it was a squeak!  I actually didn't have enough fabric to cut the side panel for the everyday skirt, so I cut the front panel wider and hoped for the best.  I had to use some plain broadcloth for the pocket facing, it was that close.  I think I have a 6" square of fabric left.  Whew!

I made it up, pleated the front, finished everything, tried it on, and...not good.  The waist was weirdly big, both in front and back, and the front poofed out weirdly around the pleats.  At the time, I didn't really know how to fix it (and didn't want to), so I put it in time out for a while.

I pulled the skirt out on a whim on Saturday and tried it on again.  I thought maybe a center pleat fix like on my chambray skirt would work, but it looked strange.  Then I decided that front darts would probably fix it, as well as snugging up the elastic a bit.  It took about an hour to unpick, repin, and resew, but I finished it just in time to wear for the feast on Sunday.  (For the record, Transfiguration is a liturgically "white" feast in the middle of the Dormition fast, which is blue, so I figure this one ticks both boxes).

I think it turned out reasonably well, given what I was working with.  The fit still isn't perfect, but it looks fine, and was nice to wear yesterday.  I'm calling it the Gzhel Skirt because the print reminds me of a particular pottery made in Russia called gzhel.  It is similar in look to Delft, but the florals are more rounded.  I'm not even sure I can properly call it an Everyday skirt, since the lines are much straighter, but I did use the pattern as the base of the skirt, so I'm just going to go with it.

It goes well with a gray cardigan I have as well, and I think my blue top with the battenburg lace inset would look nice too.  It's not a great skirt for wearing all the time for a variety of reasons, but it is nice to have a couple of special pieces for once in a while.

The fabric is some kind of linen blend, I think, and is from Germany.  My friend had made napkins out of the original yardage when she lived there.

We also bless fruit (particularly grapes) on Transfiguration, so that was half the baskets lined up after liturgy!  (There were an equal number on the other side).  In southern climates, grapes are the fruit of choice, but in places like Russia, grapes don't grow, so they tend to bless apples (or sometimes peaches).  In the U.S. it seems to be fruit more generally, with an emphasis on grapes.

It is also the only fish day during the Dormition Fast, so I splashed out on some salmon for dinner.  

I finished watching a really excellent indie film last night called Zoe, and I think I might have to write a whole post about it.  I can't stop thinking about the film--there is so much texture and complexity to the film.

Happy Feast!

Birdie's Fusion Blouse

One mistake rectified at least:

I used the same Lazy Daisy Jones pattern as for Birdie's namesday shirt, and she loves it!  I even found a yellow skort on ThredUp that will match the yellow of the shirt, so I think she'll get a nice late summer/early fall outfit out of this!  (It is exactly the same style as the blue skirt below and I had enough credits to pay for it.  Win).

The shirt was fast to make and I reused all the bias tape I'd used on my blouse, so it was easy peasy.  I think it took all of 45 minutes to cut and sew it.  (It took maybe 20 minutes to unpick all the original stitching, but I had a friend over yesterday, so I sat with my seam ripper while she and I talked and our kids played together).

I also got Birdie's birthday dress sewn up at the same time--I had cut it out several weeks ago and the clock is ticking to get that thing finished!  I ended up rolling all the hems to finish rather than using bias, and I rather like it in the rayon challis.  I'll take more pictures once she wears it for her birthday.

I'm (Not) Feelin' It

I made a thing earlier this summer that I immediately regretted.  It was an impulse purchase of fabric, and I'm sorry to say, I didn't heed my better judgement.  Namely: DON'T SEW GARMENTS WITH ART GALLERY QUILTING COTTON!  I don't know how many times I have to learn this lesson.  Sheesh.

(For the record, I don't mind sewing with quilting cottons, but Art Gallery's quilt cotton is a different beast.  It behaves differently from other cottons and has a kind of poplin feel to it.  I always feel like I'm wearing paper).

I fell in love with the print in the spring, and had been saving up to get the knit substrate for a fall dress, but the cheapness of the quilting cotton version whispered my name.  I thought: I can make a simple blouse out of that!  (This was shortly after I converted my Blue Forest dress into a blouse, and I was feeling overly confident).  Famous last words.

I used my Dottie Pearl dress pattern as a block and just cut it shorter without bust tucks.  It came together very quickly, and I thought it was going quite well.

Until I put it on, and I immediately felt claustrophobic.  The armscyes are annoyingly tight and while it feels better after having it on for a few minutes, I still feel slightly sausage-y in it.  Which is not really the feeling I was going for with this blouse.  I don't really know what the problem is, as both of the dresses I made from this pattern don't have this issue.

I cut the length such that I could wear it untucked, but that means it wants to untuck constantly.  *le sigh*  I'm hoping the Brooks Blouse will work better for me.

So, not my best effort (and why you get phone photos in the bathroom mirror).  I've already cut it down for a shirt for Birdie and will post photos of that soon.  I have the knit substrate of this print waiting in my fabric pile for a fall dress.

All Bodies Are Good Bodies

I’ve long been intrigued by maps.  I took a class in historical cartography in graduate school and loved every minute of it.  (I considered focusing my studies on medieval maps, but ended up moving in a different direction with it.)  Maps have many layers of meaning, and ancient maps are coded with many different symbols and signs that provide a window into the worldview of the time they were produced.

One of my favorite quotes is about maps.  I’ve shared it here before, in an entirely different context, but I’ll do so again, because it is so beautiful.

“We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves.

‘I wish for all this to be marked on by body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography - to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience.”

~Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Recently, I’ve been thinking more about the concept of the body as a map.  I just finished reading an interesting, if slightly dense, book on corporeal feminism and philosophy called Volatile Bodies: Toward a Corporeal Feminism by Elizabeth Grosz.  Some of the book is a bit dated, and I do feel that Grosz’ discussion veers off into unhelpful territories at times, but there have been some real gems in terms of thinking about the female form, at least from a philosophical point of view.

I’ve alluded to this a few times in the past couple of months, but I’m just going to come out and say it plain.  I’m profoundly uncomfortable in my body right now.  It’s a very weird place to be, because, paradoxically, I was in a more body positive place when I was heavier.

I’ve always been a pretty harsh critic of the image in the mirror (it is worse right now).  I’ve written pretty extensively about my struggles with weight, with body changes, the way I feel in my body.  I would say I even had a good sense of humor about my body’s quirks.  I suppose I thought it would get better if I lost weight.  I’m down 30 pounds and it isn’t that much better.  I mean, yes, I feel better physically, and yes, it is super nice to fit into smaller sizes and to be able to grade my slopers down.  But my body is still unpredictable and fluctuates a lot within my cycles (3-5 pounds every couple of weeks, depending on where I am) and my waistbands still feel tight at the end of the day because of gastroparesis.  I’m constantly frustrated by my body’s unwillingness to do anything “normally.”

I want to lose more weight, but I’m less motivated to work on the last 15 pounds because I know it will take another level of asceticism with my food life that I’m having a hard time contemplating.  Losing 15 pounds won’t change the basic shape of my body, or alter its composition or quirks or proportion.  I also think it won’t fix what ails me inside.

To be clear, this is about me.  (Because I’m narcissistic that way).  I am quite body positive about everyone around me.  I celebrate what My Body Model is trying to do with its message of body positivity and size inclusivity.  I love that Gretchen Hirch, Sarai at Colette, Closet Case Patterns, Sonya Philip, and other indie pattern sellers are trying to change the visual cultural ideal by using images of women of all shapes, sizes, and ages on their patterns and in their books and magazines.  I appreciate that Gertie slopes from a larger size and the proportions of her patterns are close to my own proportions.  I adore Gwendoline Christie, who is 6’3” and wore 6” heels to publicize a movie with her much shorter male co-stars.  I’ve already written about my girl crush on Tilda Swinton, who is probably my body positivity model.  Swinton: ‘A body is a body, and everyone has one.’

All bodies are good bodies.  (Rinse, repeat.  I need to frame this to remind myself). 

I think perhaps a lot of my own discomfort has to do with the gap between visual cultural ideals and my own body (I re-read this post while putting this one together, and it still holds up.  Much of what I’m noodling through here is just rehashing it from a different mental place). 

When the gap between my body and the cultural visual ideal was very wide (i.e. I was very fat), there was nothing for me to aspire to.  I knew that the visual cultural ideal was so far out of reach, why even bother about it?  I was talking about this with a friend with many children and she commented that it was kind of like being pregnant—you just can’t be bothered with living up to some unreasonable standard when your body is housing another human. 

Now that the gap is narrower, and I find I’m much more focused on the narrowness of that gap.  Because I’m human and I’m aware of the society in which I move and live.  I do try to be careful about my visual diet—I try to avoid shows and movies that are populated with Beautiful People, style magazines, and pictures of tall, thin people wearing clothing that will never look like that on me, no matter how much I weigh.  But still.  The visual ideal still lives in my head.

I had a sudden realization that what our culture really idolizes, and even fetishizes to a certain extent, is the idea of the body as a tabula rasa.  (Somehow, it always ends up back with Descartes, blast him).  The idea is that a person is born whole, pure, a blank canvas upon which to write; a disembodied mind carried around in a body that has little use beyond the decorative.  Setting aside the basic problems with this theory, let’s talk about the body as a blank canvas.  I remember when each of my children received their first scars—a mark on previously unblemished skin.  The scraped knees and elbows, the stitched chins and foreheads, the messiness of childhood, marked up on their bodies for the rest of their time on earth.  I felt a bit sad about it at the time, but now I’m coming to realize that it was silly to feel that way.  The marks upon our bodies show our lives.  It is unfortunate that our culture wants our bodies to remain unmarked, blank, unlived in, at least visually.  (One could extend this metaphor to the pictures with which we saturate our screens and magazines—homes are staged to look like no one lives there, stock photos of empty landscapes that appear uninhabited).  I don’t know about you, but as much as I find those types of images swoon-worthy, when I turn back to my real life, in my real body, in my real home, with six people inhabiting the space, the cognitive dissonance is enough to undo me.

Volatile Bodies has me thinking about the ways in which our intellectual framework for the physical body undermines a healthy view of it.  Starting from Descartes onward (as I said, it’s always down to Decartes), the thinking Western world has divorced the body from the mind, and placed the body on some lower inferior level, rather than seeing the body, mind, and spirit as an inextricably intertwined thing.  That it is all on the same level. 

I can try to change my own thinking about this, come at it from a more Eastern point of view, or even a pre-modern Western point of view, but I still have to live in this culture, in this time, with opposing messages and ideals.  It is impossible to ignore them.

Another point Grosz makes that I hadn’t focused on previously is that women’s bodies, rightly or wrongly, are culturally judged by their fluids, whereas male bodies are more culturally neutral (both from a purely corporeal aspect as well as a fluid standpoint).  To my mind, this makes for a lot of body shaming on the basis of things women have almost no control over, and shouldn’t be considered any more or less dirty than a man’s, but there it is.  It also reminded me of Mary Roach’s excellent book Bonk, which explores the connection of science and sexuality, and, in particular, sexuality in different cultural contexts.  She notes the differences in fluid preferences among different cultures, and the (sometimes bizarre) lengths that women go in order to conform to those standards.  She mentions that in places value “dryness,” women will pack sawdust or newspaper in their parts to achieve this, for example.  Can I just say this: all bodies produce fluid.  It is the normal and healthy way of things. 

All bodies are good bodies.

On the one hand, this whole thing is rather absurd: body image, our cultural obsession with a particular type of slenderness (starvation chic, shall we say).  For most of human history, people have struggled to have enough to eat.  It was only recently that slenderness became a visual cultural ideal.  In earlier ages, fatness was celebrated, envied, because it meant you had a surplus of food and could afford to eat more than you needed.  Recently, I read an interesting article on the depiction of mothers in 17^th century Dutch paintings, and I was struck by how robust all the women are.

On the other hand, I see what our culture celebrates as normal and ideal in the female form, and I see all the ways I don’t measure up.  All the ways I cannot possibly measure up.  Gertie points out in her croquis book that the fashion industry standard is to use croquis that are nine heads tall (croquis are proportioned using the head as a unit of measurement).  The average woman is seven heads tall.  Just let that one sink in for a moment.  The visual cultural ideal that is being put out by the fashion industry is one that is physically unattainable for probably 98% of the female population.  Add to that the unrealistic way that our cultural standard bearers present themselves after major body-altering events like childbirth; is it any wonder that almost no one feels comfortable with their physical selves?  (And yes, I’m aware that celebrities are under an enormous amount of pressure to look “normal” again immediately after having a baby.  It’s just not right, for anyone). 

I read a mostly forgettable book a few weeks ago by Emily Bleeker called When I’m Gone.  One of the main female characters is described (in what I’m sure the author meant as a body positive thing) as a woman who prefers to eat cookies for dessert and sitting on the couch after dinner instead of fitting into a size 2.  It is clear the author wanted to make her character “relatable” by making her not skinny.  She goes on to describe the character as a size 10.  Well whoopdie doo.  Congratulations, you are still below the average size of American women.  Was that supposed to make me feel better?  Or like the character more?

I couldn’t help but think: this is what “fat” is to you, lady?  What if she were a size 12 or 14, or 16?  Or bigger?  Would she still be worth writing about?  Would her husband have laughed at her indulgence or would he have shamed her for it?  (In the book, her husband likes her fluff.  I have a hard time understanding how any woman who wears a size 10 can have that much fluff, if I’m being honest)

So what to do?

I can work harder on my visual diet—continue to be aware of what I’m putting in front of my eyes, about the images that provide a visual reference point for “normal.”  I can steer myself toward older images of women—those robust carriers of many children, those workers of the fields, milkers of cows, and generally hard-working women whose bodies reflect the lives they lived.  #lifegoals

I can seek out more body positive models.  It isn’t enough to avoid that which is bad for me; I should actively go toward that which is healthy and good.  For the ready-to wear that I thrift or buy new, I should stop shopping with clothing companies that don’t slope for my body type.  I’ve done enough thrifting over the years to know which brands tend to fit me well and which don’t (although be open to change—Target used to be a rank disaster for me, but they’ve changed their clothing game in the last two or three years and are using radically different slopers now).  I should stop torturing myself with brands and pattern companies that don’t slope for my body type (I’m looking at you, Boden and almost anything curated by Modcloth).  There is a whole other post I could write about the way that clothing companies make their clothing blocks and how that affects everything from the number size on the garment to the overall fit and feel of them.  Maybe I’ll get to that someday.

It is worth trying to think about the body in positive terms, so when I’m tempted to start parsing various things about my body that I don’t like, I put my hands over it, and remind myself of what that part has done.  “This belly has housed five humans.”  “These arms have carried four children.” “These breasts have nourished four babies.”  “These legs are strong and capable.”

The thing I’ve arrived at is two fold.  Number one is that I need to work on acceptance.  Acceptance that this body of mine is a map that has a lot of history marked on it.  That the stretch marks, the loose skin, gray hairs, scars, coffee-stained teeth, freckles, etc. are part of where I’ve been and who I am. 

Number two is to surround myself with other women who understand these struggles, and also women who have arrived at a place of body acceptance.  I’ve talked with so many women about these issues in the last few weeks, all at different places in this corporeal journey, and it was so helpful to hash it through with them.  The women who have learned to love their bodies gave me hope for the future.  The women struggling with post-partum changes, with peri-menopause, or just general life shifts that affect their bodies, commiserated with me, offered their thoughts and were generally so supportive of my own issues.

I suspect we all have someone or something in our lives that mocks our attempts at acceptance and contentment.  Maybe it is a relative or a friend, or a garment we loved to wear when our bodies were different.  Maybe it is just the magazines in the grocery check out line or the leggy skinny models on clothing websites.  Often these negative influences are not things we can excise from our lives.  My suggestion (and I make it as much to myself as anyone) is to dress to please yourself.  Wear clothes that fit now and feel good.  Don’t hang on to things for “someday.”  Don’t shame yourself with clothing that makes you feel terrible. 

All bodies are good bodies.

My great hope is that one day, perhaps some day soon, I can look at my body in the mirror, see all the contours of this map of mine, to see the marks of my history, of my tastes and experience, of my particular self, and be content.

Casey Skirt vs. Everyday Skirt

I'm long overdue with this blog post, which I meant to post last month when the pattern released.  Earlier this spring, I was able to test a pattern for the lovely Brigid Everson, of Brijee Patterns: the Casey Skirt.  It is based on a 1940s design, with a big box pleat in the center front and center back and the biggest patch pockets I've ever seen!  It is my first time testing a pattern and I was happy to do it.

The high waisted design and the unique elements of the skirt appealed to me.  I tested a size 12, even though I'm more or less between a 12 and 14 on her size chart. 

I had a little trouble with the pdf pattern because I didn't have the ability to turn off all the other size lines, so it was difficult to figure out which size line to cut in some places, but if you have better tech skillz than me, she has a great tutorial on the blog about how to turn off the extra size lines.  

I used Robert Kaufman's Essex Brussels linen line in brick, and liked it very much.  The rayon gives the linen some heft and a nice drape.  It doesn't carry wrinkles the same way that pure linen does.  I'll be using this fabric again!  

The pattern was very easy to put together, the markings were good, and the instruction had lovely and clear illustrations for the pleats and the pocket construction.  I ended up constructing the pocket differently because I wanted the flap to lie flat (I do not need additional volume on my hips), and also because by the time I was applying the pockets, I was pretty sure the skirt wasn't going to fit me.  I ended up taking 2" off each side seam for a better fit, and then refitting the waistband at the end. 

I really liked that the pattern has markings for the whole pocket, given the size, so it was really easy to make sure the pocket placement was correct.  I worked my buttonholes by hand and used two vintage buttons from my gram's button box that matched.  They kind of have an Art Deco feel to them (and going by the feel and a few other factors, I'm guessing they date from the 1930s).  I wished I had reinforced the waistband with petersham instead of fusible, as the fusible did not want to play nice once I started wearing it.  

My zipper was not the cleanest at the top edge, but that is down to me and not the pattern.  Because I was just trying to finish the skirt and not necessarily wear it, I did a quick and dirty hem by zig-zagging the edges and hemming up 3" as instructed.  I machine hemmed it, but the thread is such a close match it hardly shows.  This is similar to how ready-to-wear hems are constructed in woven fabrics.  I liked that the skirt was a longer length to start with--I almost always have to add several inches, and it was nice to just cut the skirt as printed!

Let me say for the record that this is a cute skirt, and I did wear it a couple of times.  I got a lot of compliments every time I did.  That said, however, I struggled to feel good in it.  The waistband is a little too high for my short waist and needed constant adjusting through the day, and the length is a bit long on my short calves.  The overall volume of the skirt felt slightly matronly to me (it is the same problem I have with the Hollyburn, now that I think about it).  I couldn't reach the bottom of the pockets without angling my body in a weird way (Hobbit arms strike again!) and I didn't think the back box pleat was particularly flattering on my body.  (It looks very cute on a straighter figure, however).

I tried it with another blouse to be sure about it and confirmed two things at one blow.  Number one is that even though I love that feedsack Portrait blouse, I don't want to wear it any more.  I also don't really want to wear short sleeves right now.

Number two is that the skirt is just too much volume for my current taste. I like the gentle sweep of the Everyday skirt better--it has a nice fall to it, but skims the body nicely.  

(also, these shoes are horrible.  They gave me terrible blisters, look really frumpy on my frame, are not my style, and were generally a not a good ebay find.  Oh well.  You win some, you lose some).

I ended up refitting this skirt for Birdie's godmother, who is quite a bit taller than me and has the right length arms for the pockets!  She loved the big pockets.  I took out the back box pleat, cut a new waistband for a 1" height with petersham, and added back elastic for a comfortable fit.  It turned out pretty well and looks great on her!

In the meantime, I made my Everyday skirt out of the same fabric with the same box pleat in the front, as I really like that feature of the Casey skirt and find it super flattering.  It is a great way to hide front "fluff" without adding visual volume.  I'm really grateful to the Casey pattern for this idea, as I'm sure I'll continue to make this modification on my Everyday skirt pattern going forward.

I bought the Brooks blouse during Brigid's sale and I'm eager to make that one up soon!

Yarn Along: August

~knitting~

Welp, it only took me four years, but I finally finished my Gemini!  Whew!!  I cannot believe it took me this long to get this sweater off needles.  Wait, I can.  Here's why.  

REASON NUMMER 1: fingering weight linen yarn.  'nuff said.  I had a pretty hard time getting gauge with this yarn.  I think I ended up on size 2 needles.

REASON NUMMER 2! That bleepety bleep lace panel.  I was so confident that I could manage it--it is 17 stitches wide, by 16 rows, and it was written out in addition to charted.  Yeah, I can totally do that.  *snort*  I mean, yes, I did actually do it, but I realized that most of my knitting projects are things I can do while doing something else.  Not this one.  I literally had to sit in a quiet place, with my pattern and a pen and something to mark lines, and keep track of every.freaking.line.  Since it is all knit in one, until the sleeves come off the needles, it is a lot of stitches.  Tiny tiny stitches in unpleasant yarn.  Even once the sleeves were off it was still a lot.  Plus the button band was knit in one with the sweater, so I had to keep track of button hole rows too.

Sometimes I thought my brain might explode.  I nearly frogged it several times, only to realize I was further than I thought and I just needed to soldier on already.  By this summer, I was like, enough already, I HAVE to finish this sucker.  I was concerned about the raglan sleeves, since I now know that they don't fit me that well, but I was pleasantly surprised by this pattern.  

This sweater is designed to be worn front or back (so the lace in the front or back.  I like it both ways).  My two complaints are that the fabric is looser than is ideal (obviously I need to wear a different bra!) and it doesn't look that good on me untucked.  

I also had to reknit the sleeves because they came out too short and oddly bell shaped at the bottom on the first go.  I added 6 more 6-row decreases before starting the edge and that was about right.  They are maybe slightly too long now, but I tried them on as I went and it seemed right before I blocked it.

I am pleased with how the lace panel came out, but man.  So much brain exploding.

The "wrong" side rows were at least super easy to keep track of, and honestly, I've seen worse lace panels.  This one wasn't super hard, I just never memorized the pattern, and couldn't "read" where I was in it at any given point, so I was always nervous about losing my place.  I did mark everything, but if I set it aside for longer than a day, I had to spend some time figuring out where I was again.

As I said, it looks better tucked in, and I do like the closely spaced buttons on the back (although one or two holes are slightly too big and the buttons want to slide out.  I may need to cinch a couple of them).  I blocked it in the washer and laid it flat to dry, and when it was mostly dry, I chucked it in the dryer on medium for about 10 minutes to soften it, because it was pretty crispy feeling.  The dryer helped, but some of my woven ends didn't like that.  It was super hard to weave in the ends neatly because of the way the fiber behaved.  I still have a couple of skeins left, and I honestly don't know what to do with them.  The color is so pretty, but the fiber, man.  Maybe a simple shawl or scarf.

That said, I might like to try this pattern (sans lace panel) in a lightweight wool, because I do actually like the fit of it quite a bit.  It would be easy to modify that panel for a different stitch pattern or leave it off all together.  I'm glad I made it, because it was a challenge for me on many different levels, and I learned a lot.

~reading~

I finished Volatile Bodies, and started Purity and Danger.  I expected to like P&D a lot more than I am--so far she seems to be having an argument with 19th century anthropologists.  I keep waiting for the real meat to arrive at the table, because it's all been fizzy drinks to now.  

I'm still noodling that essay on bodies and women, aging, expectations, etc, so these books are proving helpful, but they are also dense.  I'm nearly there on the essay.  I need to make another pass or two at it before I share it here.

I'm also re-reading MOBY when I can't handle anything else.  Jamie and Claire just make it all better.  

I bought Nora Ephron's two books of essays for some down time reading later this month and am looking forward to them.

~sewing~

Not much, to be honest.  Birdie's godmother came down for two days in July for a sewing workshop with me, and we made a ton of garments in two days' time.  It took me a bit to recover from the intensity of drafting, cutting, fitting, and sewing all those things!  (For the record, we made her newly ordained deacon husband a linen kombu, three skirts (one was a refashion and just needed a new waistband), five simple shirts, as well as refitting a few of my Dottie Angel frocks for her.  I have no photographic evidence of this sewing intensive, because there wasn't any time to stop and take a picture!  It was the best stash diving experience ever, as we only used stuff from my bin for her clothes (wide linen selvages, remnants, some gifted fabric, and other odds and ends I had to cut down for something else or use up)

I did squeeze out a shirt for Birdie's namesday last month, and cut down one of my Birch dresses for her birthday dress later this month (but haven't sewn it up yet).  

I used the Lazy Daisy Jones pattern and just cut it shorter for a shirt.  I really like this as a shirt pattern (less as a dress), and will probably make more of them, as Birdie is starting to want to wear separates more often.  The fabric was a remnant gifted to me, so I only had enough for the shirt.  It was a quick 30 minute sew.

 I cut down my grey flannel dress into a pencil skirt.  It just okay.  I lined it with some dark gray bemberg I had in the bin, which wasn't too bad.  The skirt was a pain to fit because my skirt pattern needs to be redrafted, I think.  I'm not totally happy with the result (for a variety of reasons), but we'll see how it feels come December.  It was a good exercise in using what fabric I have on hand rather than buying new.

Sometime in early July, I also changed the pleats on my chambray everyday skirt to a center box pleat like my other summer skirts and am much happier with the result.  It was a bit pesky to do, but I got way more wear out of it that way.  I also replaced the back elastics (again!) with 12" ones, since that seems a better fit at the moment.  I think my basic issue with this skirt is not sizing but fabric.  I loved this fabric as a dress, but it just doesn't behave that well as a skirt.  I should try again next summer with a different chambray.  I have several candidates in mind, starting with the Kaufman Essex line.

~watching~

Finally caught up on a bunch of movies I've been meaning to see this year.  Early Man is the latest Aardman production (think Wallace and Gromit) and it is so cute and hilariously funny.  Just what you'd expect from Nick Park.  

I also (FINALLY!) saw Black Panther and it totally lived up to the hype (although I was about 15 or 20 minutes in before I thought that).

I finished both seasons of Berlin Station and it was pretty intense, but Richard Armitage was worth the ride.  My main complaint about the show is the language is pretty over the top, and I also didn't appreciate some of the grittier aspects of it, but the writing was superb, and I really enjoyed the ensemble cast.

Woody Allen's Wonder Wheel was interesting.  I've never really gotten into Woody Allen's films, so I wasn't prepared to like this as much as I did.  It felt like a play, and I liked Justin Timberlake's narrator speaking to the camera in the 4th wall.  Kate Winslet was amazing in it.  

I also finished season two of The Path (also excellent, but taking a break before finishing season 3).  I also finished season five of The Americans, and am eager for the final season.  I may even pony up for it instead of waiting to next summer for it to go prime.  

I went back to NYPD Blue's first season this week and it holds up quite well.  I loved that show when it was on, but I don't think I watched the last two or three seasons because I was overseas and then didn't have a television when I got back.

On another note, speaking of women and the conflicted messages we get about our bodies (see under reading), I ran across this yesterday and fist bumped the air.  Yes, yes, yes.  

Next on my queue is series two of The Hollow Crown (the second set of Henry plays by Shakespeare).  I adored the first series; I think we've established how much I like the Henry IV//V triology and the cast of series two looks equally amazing.

That's all she wrote!  Linking with Ginny for Yarn Along.