Poppalina

In with the new (and out with the old)

On Friday, I went to pick up a new machine: woo hoo!

It's what I call a babylocker, but since the brand name is, in fact, Baby Lock, this could get confusing. (My Baby Lock babylocker?) Basically, it's a domestic overlocker that is versatile enough to do 4 thread overlocking, 3 thread overlocking, a tiny, rolled hem—or babylocking—and almost anything in between.

It's always exciting to unpack a new machine. This one comes with a dinky little zippered plastic pouch containing extra and spare bits and pieces.

One of the nice things about this machine is the way the whole front opens up, for ease of access.

People can get a bit overwrought over the complicatedness of threading overlockers, but I find that most domestic machines are pretty intuitive. (By which I mean you can pretty much tell where the thread is supposed to go to from one point to the next.)  Plus they tend to have a little diagram inside the front panel if you get lost.

I've been wanting a machine that can do a babylock finish since forever.

So now that I have one, in addition to my industrial five thread overlocker (Brother), my industrial straight stitch (Consew) and my domestic zigzag machine (Husqvarna), I really don't need the three thread domestic overlocker that I haven't used in years.

Which means that if there's anyone in the Sydney area (local pick up only) who'd like to own a simple little Husqvarna Huskylock 435 three thread overlocker, I have one available.

I bought it second hand in the '90s, so it's old, but it still works beautifully, and there's nothing wrong with it.

One of the particularly good things about it (that I'm really going to miss when using the new machine) is that the lever to raise and lower the presser foot is on the right hand side of the machine, rather than on the left at the back.

That means that when you've got your work all lined up and ready to sew, and you're holding the work steady with your left, as is natural, you don't have to stretch your right hand across to the other side of the machine and around the back in order to lower the foot. Why in God's name they design them any other way is beyond me.

And yet they do.

 

Introducing the Craftorialist

A Kapinny post

Not content with having a craft overload, and a co-authorial position with Popplina, I have started a new project that, with any luck, won't be finished for a very long time.

The Craftorialist is a new blog of inspirations, instructions, pictures and patterns, in which I share my technical expertise with anyone interested in textile-based craft. It's brand new, so there's only a few posts to see right now, but I will keep adding to it over time.

Feel free to drop by and have a look, ask a question, make a comment or—hell—add it your reader!

thecraftorialist.com

Metaphor

By Shula

The hand-piecing continues, often long into the night. Not great on the old eyes, but still...

A balm for the soul,

And that's a fact.

A faired inkum scrap quilt is a massive exercise in nostalgia. You use all the weird little pieces of fabric that you've kept over the years because you love them and couldn't throw them out. Some have been around for decades - I've got scraps of fabric here that were worn by my grandmother, others that were saved by my mother, nightie fabrics from various siblings, exceptionally groovy 70s hotpants that Mym wore as a little girl until the seat fell out of them. I have selvedges and offcuts from my days with the Frock Fairies in the Nicholas Building, (where I was renowned for rubbish bin-raiding, pride not being my forte). I have superb silk remnants of Maxmillian's ill-fated swimwear collection of 2004. I even have the odd teatowel scrap that flew over Pene's shoulder at 100km an hour in one of her Production Frenzies, and I caught mid-air ....

And then there are the gifts. A whole box of pieces from Jude, carefully and lovingly sorted by colour. More still from Leah. Other people's treasures. Other people's memories. All of them important.

And then one day they all come out of the cupboard,

And you begin...

It's very important that you don't hurry. You're handsewing, and a hexagon might take up to half an hour from start to finish. That's a lot of time for a piece of fabric to be resonating on your ass. You can remember a LOT in 30 minutes.

So.

Lots of looking back. Lots of wandering in your mind. The odd chuckle. The odd tear. Mostly just reflecting and being still, and letting the fabrics do their thing.

From time to time I have pondered the question of why I'm suddenly so obsessed with patchwork.

I think it was Oona who brought my attention to this, I'd linked to the page on Wikipedia without even noticing it. The following is a diagram of triiodothyronine, or T3, a chemical that I have in such abundance at the moment, and which is causing me such enormous inconvenience.

Bears a rather uncanny resemblance to this, don't you think?

 

Coincidence?

Hmmmm.....maybe.

Except that I don't believe in coincidences.

I'd call it a classic example of creative healing.

  

Craft overload ...

A Kapinny post

Ever feel like you have started too many projects already, but you keep wanting to start more before you're even close to finishing the others?

I'm knitting a poncho/cape thingy, which should be gorgeous and warm when it's done. It's in a gorgeous 4-ply wool, and it's just over a metre long on both sides, so it's a longer term project.

I've finished the crochet pullover (pattern here), which would be great, except it's just too small, and I'm going to have to unpick it all and make it again, bigger.

There's another couple of babies I'd like to knit or crochet something for, and that should be soon, while they're still new.

And I know the dearest little two year old who needs a jumper.

I'm part way through I don't know how many sewing projects, but I really need a new pair of warm trousers.

One day a week in the studio just ain't enough, y'know?

High School Formal Frock

A Kapinny post

Last year I made my step daughter's Year 10 end of year formal frock. She had found the pattern in an op shop.

 

Though the skirt was far too long and full for someone of her small stature, the bodice and collar are designed for her, really. She has one of those old-fashioned hourglass figures.

The trip to the fabric store was fun and excruciating in equal measure. It took ages, but finally we settled on a cherry red silk satin ...

... which looks a lot brighter red here than it really is, and a gorgeous black lace overlay.

And the lovely French lady serving us found a fabulous black lace trim we decided to put on the hem. After it was finished, and she had tried it on, I described her in it to my husband.

Me: 'Gina Lollobrigida. That's all I'm saying.'

Him: 'I don't know what you mean.'

Me: 'You know what I mean.'

Him, putting his fingers in his ears and screwing up his face: 'I don't want to know what you mean!'

Vintage pattern cache

A Kapinny post

My aunt found a bunch of '50s and '60s sewing and knitting patterns in a second hand shop. I have the choicest ones on loan, so I can copy them.

It's perfect timing: I've been so loving the Mad Men aesthetic (if not the culture) as we make our way through the DVDs.

Here's the first pattern I have copied and actually made up.

And the result. I'm not entirely happy with the way the sleeves sit (hard to show on the dummy), but this is only the first trial version; I'll be making some adjustments. I've made it up in a stretch woven, since it's more closely fitting than the illustrations would suggest. Also, I don't have that kind of figure any more.

I love the print on this fabric; for some reason blue and white always does it for me.

And here's a gorgeous coat pattern that I'm in the process of making up.

So much fun.

Treasure Chest

A Kapinny post

My beloved Grandma will be 91 years old in August. She's very much alive and kicking, in fact she'll kick your Scrabble-playing arse any day you care to take her on.

 

This year, she sold her home and moved to the only actually cool retirement community I've ever heard of. This meant downsizing her formidably large collection of gorgeous STUFF.

And look what ended up in my clutches.

It's a beautiful chest full of crafting things ...

... fabrics, knitting needles, buttons, laces, ribbons and braids.

Fine, hot pink silk; natural linens; batik cotton. A tiny floral print (blue) that she made the dress of my favourite doll from, when I was little. She'd also made the doll, Amelia, whom I loved dearly.

Do you have any gorgeous 'inherited' things in your stash?

  

 

Making Big Bear Faces

Shaky hands,

Make for blurry photographs,

But you get the idea.

Epiphany

That's right.

The Consew totally kicks arse.

Making Bear Fabric

I broke not one, but two domestic machines today. My fault, entirely. I asked them for more than they had to give.

And I did this, quite simply, because I am Mortally Afraid of industrial sewing machines. Or, to be even more precise, I am shit scared of hand injuries. The likelihood of me sewing my own hands to the table with an industrial is approaching probability one.

Meaning the prospect thrills me not.

But be that as it may, the time has come.

I must dig the Big Sewing Machine out from it's current position (hiding in the far corner, disguised as a Really Handy Thing to Pile the Stuff You Don't Know What To Do With On Top Of),

Remember how to thread the bobbin winder (could be a problem...)

And face my demons.

Because bear-making is not for the Faint of Heart,

Or domestic machines, it would seem...

scene fades slowly to black as Shula stands alone, looking nervous, though humming bravely...