I’m always learning new things when I sew. This time I learned how far ahead of the needle my serger’s knife cuts and why you don’t serge seam allowance after sewing inseam pockets.
After a long time out it turned out to be an easy fix. I removed the pocket, cut an inch off the width of the skirt, and started fresh.
It’s the same pattern as the dress I made MJ last year. I used the same button loop placket and cap sleeves, but added the i-cord and used inseam pockets because I thought I ought to mix it up a little bit.
I’ve sworn off Joann Fabrics. Again. Joann, why can’t I quit you? Oh yeah, because you are the only place anywhere close-ish that I can reliably buy notions which is something I re-remember every time I need buttons. I got super lucky, though, and hit a timely and unexpected jackpot at Urban Mining: vintage buttons!
Unbelievably I found buttons that were a perfect match in the quantities and sizes I needed. And I needed 4 smaller and 3 bigger, so let’s take a moment to acknowledge the improbability of finding these buttons in a space mostly dedicated to furniture and knick-knacks mere blocks from my house, no long, trying to trips to Joann necessary!
MJ, of course, would have been happiest with Minnie Mouse buttons. Here is the godawful dress I made at her behest also out of clearance Joann fabric that MJ spotted, adored, would not let go of, and insisted be made into a dress immediately upon arrival home. She will surely wear this dress instead. Ah, well, more power to her. The girl knows what she likes.
Like everyone else in the sewing universe who loves sewing small dresses, I discovered the Geranium Dress, bought the Geranium Dress pattern, made it up, and delighted in it. Possibly unlike everyone else, I didn’t stop there. I made more Geranium dresses than I had possible use for. I made them in every size with every neckline and every sleeve. I made them in geometric, bird, floral, dinosaur, cupcake, and sausage (that one was for my restaurateur cousin) fabrics. I made them for friends, I made them for friends of friends. I looked for every opportunity to give the things away and when I ran out of outlets I stowed them in a drawer from whence I drew this quite wrinkled version to finally pass along:
A birthday dress! A dress for a birthday! A birthday that’s today!
Pattern: Lotta Dress by Compagnie M.
Fabric: Cotton something or other. With peacocks!
I made this a while ago, but today is its debut. Lovely button details. In the pics they are a little lost in the busy-ness of the fabric pattern, but they pop well enough in real life. Well, that or my eye is lovingly drawn to them in admiration regardless. So adorable.
The buttons are a near-perfect match, but they came in a package of 90 various-sized ombre buttons so now I have 83 leftover. I guess that’s better in some ways than the scads of single buttons I have rolling around my button tin. The buttons, they burden me. Will they ever be useful? Should I just get rid of them? Why do I have so many buttons I love but never a button that matches? How long can I stave off my husband’s requests to sew new buttons on his shirts? When will the day come that one of my buttons ends up in a child’s nose?
Post title is a direct quote from my husband this morning. My neck seized up while I was drying my hair because that’s a thing that apparently happens to me, now, and I complained that I felt like I was walking around with my neck sticking out. You know, like a chicken.
Chickens, then, are the theme of the day.
Simple and unfussy, this little dress came together like a dream. I had a disproportionate amount of coordinating fabric leftover from making Oliver & S’s Hide-and-Seek tunics – lots of the leafy fabric, only a bit of the chickens – that worked great for this pattern. This project doesn’t feel like a Sewing Accomplishment, but clothes that are easy to get on and off and to wear are the ones I reach for in the morning and I am hopeful it will see a lot of use. You can never tell with kids.
Pattern: Polly Peasant Dress & Blouse
Fabric: Mayflower UK, Jolly Farm, quilting cotton
Mod: I sewed the hem facing so it flipped to the outside. More chickens this way!
Epilogue: later my husband called me “sweaty paws”, obliterating all goodwill he had engendered when he told me I didn’t look like a chicken.
Epilogue to epilogue: I finally broke out my camera – here’s a pic of scalloped chickens!