Well it's no "forever comfy," but it's a damn sight prettier than that too.

     Have you seen the infomercials for the Forever Comfy? It's pretty convincing. It will make your butt comfy forever. For all eternity. In this lifetime and the next, you shall have the comfiest bum. I want it kind of badly, but also not at all because I'm not an arthritic 80 year old postman who needs to shore up his La-z-boy's defenses before plopping down to watch golf and eat a microwaveable Salisbury Steak. So. 

     Anyway, I needed a new cushion for my desk chair, because the one I had was not squashy enough to suit my needs, and it was also bought as a placeholder while I looked for something better, but it did that sneaky thing where it hung around for like eight months without me noticing. Originally I wanted to buy a new chair entirely, because the one I use is actually a decades-old kitchen chair that is badly warped and incredibly uncomfortable, but it turns out chairs are expensive and I am le poor. So the next best thing was to get a new cushion, and when I couldn't find one that was the right dimensions and suitably cute, I realized it was time to engage the craftiness ray. I picked up a cushion filler thing-jig and a nice geometric print duck cloth that matches the accent colors in my room (like the dark blue throw pillow on my bed and the various blue tones on the back of my desk), as well as a zipper so the cover could be removable for washing purposes (important because I sit at my desk and do my makeup, and apparently I put makeup on like a toddler, so it gets everywhere). And then...

     Cue the record scratch sound, because I couldn't actually find the motivation to stitch it up. I go through phases with my DIY-ing, where for a while all I want to do is craft this, sew that, make this, but then for a long time I might not want to make anything (except food. I always want to make food). Or sometimes I wake up with a weird urge to clean, and all I'll do is clean for three days. I dunno, it's a weird process. 

     But whilst I was out the other day my mom decided she felt like sewing, so she made it for me to surprise me when I got home! She's the best. And she even took all the pictures in this post so I could blog about it. Did I mention she's the best? So! Here's how she whipped it up. 

     After cutting two pieces of fabric that were two inches bigger on all sides than the foam, she folded the edges over half an inch on one end of each piece of fabric, ironed them down, then laid the zipper on top of the folds and sewed it in. 

"Put a picture of the zipper in, that's the most impressive part!" she says. I know this picture is from later on, but we're talking about zippers now, so whatever.

Then she opened the zipper and sewed a half inch seam on the remaining three sides.

     For the corners, she opened up the seams and lined them up. The cushion was three inches thick, so she measured three inches edge to edge as pictured, then sewed across that line. Then when it's turned right-side-out, it looks like this! 

     And that's it! I came home and found my chair looking all snazzy like this.

     And the best part is it makes that chair of angles and sorrow a thousand times comfier. 

Quick and Easy Maxi-skirt!

     This little project was born of necessity. Basically I was wearing the two other maxi skirts I own every day (well, every day it was warm enough) and realized I could use a more neutral one so I would never have to wear pants ever ever again so long as I shall live (until fall). So I picked up that gold polka-dotted stretchy number you saw in that preview post, and a bit of elastic here and some stitching there, then I had a skirt! Ok, it was a little more than that. But not really. Basically here's what happened.

     Only one seam, since I wanted it to be gathered anyway (so you wouldn't see it) and "there's no point cutting it just to sew it back together" as a front and back panel, as my mom said. So wise. Elastic at the top, sewn on with the elastic streeeetched out, so it gathers when in its natural position, with one row of zig-zag stitches to hold it to the back of the fabric, folded over, and another row of stitches to hide it. Hem at the bottom -- honesty time, I haven't done it yet, which is why in the "finished" picture I'm about to show you I'm on my tippy toppy toes -- and that's about it. 

     So now I just need to hem this bad boy, then I shall commence wearing it every day until people start to make fun of me for it, at which point I will... continue to wear it but know in my heart of hearts that those people kind of suck a little bit. 

Sneaky peek-y!

     Over the weekend I was really very sick. For reference, I'm generally one of those stubborn idiots who won't go to the doctor until I'm knocking on Death's door at 3AM yelling "Come outside, Mr. Deathy, unless you're scaaaared," and at one point I was so dehydrated I was genuinely concerned I might need to go to the hospital. Couldn't keep any water down. Stomach bugs, man. They are my downfall (Well, I have many downfalls. I am a delicate flower). I'm feeling somewhat better since my dad ran out and got me every flavor of Gatorade so I could force in some electrolytes and junk, and my mom made me a grilled cheese when I was capable of eating again. That's the great thing about parents, man, they just refuse to let you die. Anyway, the point of that was to preface why today I've just got a little preview of some upcoming projects.  

     Any ideas what I'm making with these things? Don't worry, I'm not going to leave you in suspense. The sheer fabric with the cool little flower embroideries is going to be a kimono(?!)/sheer jacket/thing like the one from Target that I recently put in my favorites. Yep, just loved it so much I decided to pull a Thor (I like this. ANOTHER!). The black pom-pom trim is going on the sleeves, just like the Target one -- partly because I guess I ran out of creativity there, partly because I thought it would be a good way to keep it from looking too funereal/lingerie-like. As for that stretchy black fabric with gold polka dots, it's going to be a maxi-skirt. I have a blue one that I made from an old dress (I can't remember if I blogged about it or not, and I'm too mummy-brained to go look for it) that I wear constantly, so I thought it would be pretty easy to make another one. It's just an elasticized fabric tube, after all. Do those sound like last words, courting danger, asking for it to be really difficult for some reason? I kind of feel like yes, but I'm feeling reckless, let's leave it. 

Don't Cross the Streams

     Well, the weekend Halloween parties have come and gone and now it's finally time for me to show you my finished Zuul costume! Drumroll super '80s synthesizer beat please...

I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you I wore a slip under this dress, so you're not seeing anything untoward here, I promise. 

     And of course, after spending that much time working on my demonic contouring, you know I have to include a close-up, and being the person that I am, obviously I'm gonna have to add lightning and an end-of-days-esque filter...

     This was so much fun to do. The hair was floofy, the dress was slinky, the makeup was over the top, and I was shimmerier than a disco moon (rarer than a blue moon, a disco moon happens once every couple of decades when funk music makes a comeback. The more you know!). 

     I hope you guys enjoy this epic tribute to a seriously classic movie, and I also kind of hope I'll somehow start a trend here. Every Halloween there's always a ton of Ghostbusters running around, but no Zuul! It's a crying shame! 



PS: If you're curious how I got my hair (yes, that is my actual, real, growing-out-of-my-head hair) to do that, how long it took, and how I turned it back into my normal hair again, stay tuned for Wednesday's post! 

Oh-ho, Zuuly you nut!

     And the Zuul dress is done! The sleeves were cut in according to the diagram in Part I, then finished off with some elastic, and it's got a much better shape to it now. Of course, it's not supposed to have too much of a shape at all, but there's a good amount of middle ground between "potato sack" and "Real Housewives-style bandage dress."  

     I included two slightly different angles there just so we can all appreciate the pretty shimmer of that fabric combo. Preeetty. 

     The slit is also new since the last update. Obviously the original Ghostbusters dress has a much higher slit, but I'm not too keen on the idea of accidentally flashing my underwear to the world, so mine's shorter. You'll also notice the dress is pinned onto the dress form on one side. That's because she's got no shoulders to hold it up (don't bring it up, she doesn't like to talk about it). It'll stay up better on me, due to my possession of a set of arms. If I feel like it's falling off, I'll just use some double sided tape to hold it in place. The only other real change I made to the design (in comparison to the movie version) was to make it a bit shorter, so it hits just above the knees. That's entirely a personal decision, just because the original hits mid-calf, and I happen to know that that length would do me absolutely zero favors. So it's just to make it a bit more flattering. 

     The final update on this will be when I put the whole shebang -- the dress, the mahoooosive hair, and the extreme '80s contouring -- together to wear out for Halloween, so be sure to keep an eye out for the big reveal!

There is no Dana...

     The day has come! It's time to reveal my devious plans for Halloween, since I've finally gotten my act together enough to start working on it. My Halloween costume is...

     Dana Barrett (as possessed by Zuul) from Ghostbusters! I'm super excited to finally do this for Halloween, since I've been saying I wanted to for years. 

     I bought the two different types of fabric I showed in my sneak peek post knowing that there was never going to be one single fabric that matched the Zuul-y gloriousness above, and I was going to have to layer for authenticity. I could have just found a shimmery orange and it would have been passable, but I'm not aiming for just passable. If I'm doing Halloween, I'm doing Halloween all out. The shimmery shade-shifting fabric, underneath the orange sheer fabric, creates the perfect combination. The only drawback is that they're both sheer fabrics, and two sheers do not make an opaque (though it's not super obviously sheer, either). So I'll be wearing a nude-colored slip underneath my ensemble just to err on the side of caution and covered skivvies. Anyway, here's my plan of attack for this project. 

This picture also illustrates how surprisingly well those two fabrics layer to get the desired effect. In the picture above, the lining looks gold, but in other shots you can see it's really a much darker silver/purple/green color that just gives a hint of shimmer when it peeks through.

     
     First I spread the fabric out in the floor, doubled, and stared at it for a while. Then I asked my mom to please come help me before I destroyed everything, because I wasn't sure how to go about achieving my vision here, so I needed her advice, and also because I have a bad track record with specialty fabrics and didn't want to ruin the limited amount I had bought for this, only to go back and find out it was gone and I couldn't buy anymore and all my dreams would crash down around me. Point being, I ruin specialty fabrics sometimes, so I asked her to do the actual sewing for me, since she's got way more sewing know-how and experience than me. No shame in asking for help when you're out of your depth!

     Once that important step was out of the way, we came up with the basic plan you see above. The top is on a fold, and the bottom edges have been sewed together (so it's four layers of fabric, orange and shimmer sewed together, then another orange and shimmer together) so that it can be treated as one swath of fabric with a hem already in place. From there we cut off a strip along the side, on the fold, that will become a sash/belt. Then we guesstimated a size for the neck opening; I tried it on and we ended up making it a few inches wider anyway. Now, for my purposes, we ended up cutting along the top (where the neckline goes) all the way across after cutting off the sash piece, then re-sewing the dress at the top of the sleeves and finishing the neck opening with a small hem. But that's just an option, you could just as easily leave it on the fold and only cut out and finish the neckline. Different strokes and all. 

     The body of the dress is going to be formed by cutting out and sewing a Dolman sleeve onto a basic tunic shape that's intentionally left quite loose and wide so it can be gathered by the sash. I say "going to be" because after the intense planning stage and the surprising amount of time it took to get the fabric flattened out, trimmed into even pieces, sewed together at two ends, turned out right and ironed, and cut and sewn into the basic formation (both of the fabrics are quite clingy and finnicky, and the shimmery fabric tends to roll, which makes the whole thing kind of a nightmare to even get laid out evenly, honestly), my mom and I both agreed that we'd made a respectable amount of progress for one night. But you know I couldn't leave you without another preview, so here's how it looks draped on the dress form right now, just to give you an idea of the direction it's headed in. Obviously, since the sides haven't been shaped at all, it's rather bunchy right now. But it'll turn out brilliantly, I'm sure. I have faith in the powers of Halloween magic! Ok, and in my super helpful mom. 

     This picture also helpfully illustrates why I'm opting to wear a slip underneath. In real life, this looks fine. But add flash photography and suddenly you're untagging yourself in every Facebook photo you can find because oh hi, there's your underwear.

     I'll be keeping you updated on any progress as it's made on this project, including when I road-test the method I'm thinking of using for getting crazy-big, frizzy, ultra-80's demonic possession hair. I am beyond excited for that. Note: not sarcasm, I seriously cannot wait to push the limits of exactly how much space my hair can occupy. For science! And my own amusement. 

    

Halloween Sneak Peek!

     I know that for some people it's still way too early to think about Halloween, but not me. This is partly because Halloween is one of my very favorite holidays, but mostly out of necessity. See, when you insist on being something weird and making your own costume because it has to be authentic, you have to start planning pretty early on. You can't just run to the store at the last minute to pick up a costume if you're gonna be zombie steampunk ax-murderer Minnie Mouse or what have you. So I'll be keeping you updated along the way as I put together this year's costume, but for now I just wanted to give you a little sneaky peeky to see if you can guess what I'm scheming.

     I don't think it's that hard to guess, but then...I already know the answer. If you're stumped, don't worry, I'll be back to show you how it's going soon!

Upgrading the Cloud Situation

     I realize that title sounds like code for some sort of horrible top secret operation, but don't get out your conspiracy theorist hats just yet. All it means is I spent some time working on fixing up my bedding (aka the Puffy Pink Cloud; the memory foam and fluffy pink duvet combine to create a rather convincing cloud effect). I decided I needed a different accent pillow after my mom pointed out that the one I had been throwing on there wasn't quite right. I also thought I should go ahead and make a cover for a second body pillow while I was at it, because since I recently removed my boxspring to fix a bunch of weird height alignment issues with the windowsill and various outlets and junk (turns out you totally don't need a boxspring if you have a bed frame that has slats and stuff to support your mattress -- unless you just really like the extra support of a wooden box under there. I do not. I wish to sink so far into my bed that there is almost a suffocation hazard. Almost.) it's had the side effect of my pillows getting sucked back behind the mattress at the top. So a second body pillow was in order to combat the pillow suck. So off to the sewing machine I went, and a couple hours and under ten bucks later (all I had to buy was the white polka dotted fabric and the ruffled trim -- the blue striped fabric is the same stuff I used to cover my bookcase to keep Bessie the Destroyer out of it, and it was from my Grandma when she was clearing her fabric stash a bit so it was freeeee!), this change had occurred:

     I realize that makes it look like it also got dark outside, but the first picture is actually from a few days ago, because I'm a cheat like that. I should mention that I didn't actually cover the pillow that wasn't quite right, it's sitting in my glider now and it looks nice there. The new pillow is made from a pillow form I found in the attic.

     Anyway, I took some process pictures and was going to write out some basic instructions but now that I'm looking at them, I realize that the whole process is basically, "Rectangles. Sew a bunch of them. In various sizes. At some point, add some trim if you like." 

     Seriously. I shan't patronize you by showing you pictures of what it looks like to sew a rectangle. Instead I'll just leave you with another picture of how pretty that accent pillow turned out, and how adding the second body pillow makes everything a bit more structured and less "I just rolled out of this bed three minutes ago." 

Fixing the Ugly Chair (Finally)!

     So I've got this chair in my room. 

     Yeah, that one. It's super comfy (I like to sit there while I write up these posts), and the fact that it's a glider appeals to my inner old-lady, but...it's ugly. Real ugly. That huge swath of dark blue with the "dusty-spider" pattern all over it was just acting as a black hole in the middle of my nice, light, fluffy pink cloud of a room. You may remember that for a while I had it covered with my ruffly pink duvet. That worked for a temporary solution, but as the weather got hotter, I wanted that duvet to actually, you know, sleep under (it's nice for hot nights because I don't actually have a duvet in it, so it's basically sleeping under two sheets sewn together. All the monster-protection, none of the overheating!). I knew it was time to think of a better solution. 

     And that's where this comes in!

     Yep, I went a weird route on this one. I'd been keeping an eye out every time I went to the fabric store for something I'd like to cover the chair in, but I just couldn't find a fabric that spoke to me and was soft and cozy but also durable enough to sustain me dramatically flinging myself into the chair when swooning, or whatever. You never know! After I took the pink duvet off the chair, I had draped a  blanket exactly like this one over it instead, and eventually I decided I actually really liked the look of it. The quilting makes it seem plausible for furniture, but it's also plushy and soft and delightful, and it's a nice creamy neutral color. It seemed like a winner to me! But obviously I couldn't just leave the chair draped in a blanket forever. For one thing, it kept getting all bunchy and droopy and sad whenever I sat in it, and for another, I knew as soon as it started getting cold again I'd want the blanket back to sleep under and wear around the house like an oversized toddler with her blankie. So I sucked it up and bought a duplicate of the blanket I had specifically to cover the chair in. It was $30, which is probably around or cheaper than what I would have paid for several yards of upholstery fabric anyway (if I ever found some I liked). And the great thing is that since this blanket has two layers (a quilted front layer and a non-quilted back layer), I could get enough fabric out of it to make the front and back/underside of both cushions for my chair! 

     Now, I'm going to make a judgment call here and not go too in-depth about how I made the cushion covers, because I know most of you will never do this, and if you do you'll probably find a super-amazingly written tutorial for making cushion covers somewhere else on the internet anyway. Most of you just want to see a pretty before and after and go, "Oh, cool! That's less ugly!" So I'll just summarize in case you're curious: basically I took the covers off the cushions and used them as patterns for the new covers. For the top cushion, which was pretty straightforward (the front and back pieces were the same) I just flattened the old cover on top of my blanket and cut around it, then separated the layers for a front and back piece. For the bottom, which had side panels and was a little more complicated, I took a seam ripper to the old cover (it was too old and grimy and ugly to be saved, so don't worry -- sorry, I'm heartless) and used the pieces just like pattern pieces: a top piece of the quilted layer, a bottom piece of the unquilted layer, and side pieces of both layers together, because why not? Then I just sewed the pieces together the way they had been on the old covers, leaving a slot open to shove the stuffins in, then wrestled the cushions in and hand-sewed the slots shut. And now, the final result...

     Ta-da! Aahhh, so squishy and soft and inviting. I love how this turned out. Something about the fluffiness makes me feel like this chair could be in Hagrid's hut (though it'd have to be bigger, obviously). At some point down the road I'd like to paint this chair, because I really dislike this orangey color. It's all solid wood, so I could strip the varnish and stain it a rich dark brown or white-wash it. I could also paint it, but I always feel like it's kind of a shame to take lovely old wood furniture with scratches and dents and character and cover it with a solid painted finish that you can buy anywhere. But for now, I looked at all those spindles and nooks and crannies and moving parts underneath it and said "Eeeeh, I can deal with yellow wood for a while." It's daunting! In the meantime I'll just enjoy my squashy little cloud chair as-is!

Quick Fixes: One-hour Skirt!

     Let me lay out the timeline for you on this skirt: I bought some plain black stretchy fabric yesterday, intending to make a skirt just like one I already own with it for this blog post. Faffed about town for a bit, went home, did some work on the manuscript I'm editing for a few hours, then realized at 9:00 that I hadn't started the skirt. Panicked. Started sewing...then finished the skirt at 10:00 pm. It was like magic! I love when projects go quickly without any huge life-altering "why did I think I could sew in the first place" mishaps. 

     So let me walk you through how I copied the skirt on the left to make the black one on the right! 

If you're noticing that the black skirt looks longer, that's because it is. It was on purpose, I promise.

     First I flattened the existing skirt out on top of my fabric and simply cut around it, leaving space for seam allowance. I know it's hard to tell, but the existing skirt does actually have a waistband, so I folded that over at the seam, added seam allowance, and cut it out as if it wasn't there so that I could add the waistband as a separate piece later. 

Go ahead and just cut around the cat. Also, I'm wearing shorts here, I promise. They just got hidden behind my giant "Depressed Mr. Rogers" sweater.

     Then I folded the fabric over so that when I cut out the waistband I'd be left with four pieces. To do this, again I just cut out around the free edges, leaving seam allowance, then folded the skirt up at the seam to see where I should cut the remaining edge. Which left me with a skirt front, skirt back, and two waistband pieces, each of which is two layers of fabric. It's helpful to fold the pieces exactly in half and cut a notch in each to mark the center for alignment purposes later.

More cat-butt. I guess that's what you get when you work in the floor.

     
     Then I pinned the edges together and sewed along the sides of the main skirt piece and sewed the waistband pieces together into one circular piece. Next I sewed along the top of the circular piece so that when I turned it right-side-out it would have a finished edge on top and an open edge on the bottom.I know that was confusing, so here's a picture to (hopefully) help:

In case that description was super confusing: two seams here, connecting a front waistband and a back waistband, each of which is two layers of fabric that I treated as one. Helpful? Making it worse? I dunno, I try.

     Then I just had to carefully align the seams and notches and sew the waistband to the skirt with the raw edges aligned. I suppose if you're an over-achiever or a perfectionist you could serge the inside edges, but this fabric isn't going to unravel or fray at all and I'm lazy, so I didn't. Don't be like me. Or do, it's fun sometimes. 

     All that was left at that point was a quick hem, which I won't bother including pictures of because duh, it's a hem. You fold it and iron it and sew it and then go "yay." And it was done! 

The weird line on my face is because there's a mirror on the wall reflecting funny, I didn't just get overaggressive with the contouring this morning. Also I can tell my brain is straight up DONE for the day because I just stared at this for three full minutes trying to figure out how that shadow works.

     So there you have it, the world's fastest skirt. If you don't have a skirt to copy but you still want to make one, you could easily just pin the fabric onto your body wrong-side out, pin it where you want it to fit, and sew it up that way. Or you could do the whole bit with measuring and thinking things through, but I don't enjoy that, so I wouldn't recommend it, personally. The end!





    

The Cute Cut-off Quest

     You may remember that not long ago in a Favorite Things post, I mentioned that I had bought a pair of shorts. And that was all well and good, but I still wasn't totally satisfied. You see, those shorts are great, but I also wanted a pair of cut-offs. Something about a pair of old, fraying denim shorts that look like you whacked them off on impulse is so classic Americana to me. But I could never find a pair I liked because most stores insist on making them ludicrously short, which doesn't work for me. Because of my own particular body shape, I also found that if a pair of shorts fit at the waist and hips, they were generally too tight on the thighs. So at last I gave up, resigned to the fact that no store would have my ideal cut-offs. 

     But of course when I say I gave up, I just mean on shopping. I never give up! Unless the task is really super duper un-fun. So over the weekend, I ventured to the attic in search of a pair of old jeans that were big enough to be loose in the end, with the intent to make my own Holy Grail of Cut-offs. I came back with a pair of my dad's old jeans from before he lost a bunch of weight, knowing he won't need them back and thus, I was free to bend them to my will. Muahahaha. Here's what they looked like when I started out...

Can you believe I lost this much weight eating at Subway?! Yeah me neither.

     And here's what they ended up looking like!

     Let's talk details and process. They may look like plain old shorts from this angle, but they're actually high-waisted! Which is exciting for me. High-waisted shorts were always one of those things that I thought were cute and vintage-looking on other people, but probably not for me. Turns out that they actually do work for me! Surprise! The great thing about tailoring these myself is that I got to make them fit my somewhat unusual hip to waist ratio perfectly, so they're not weirdly tight or too big anywhere and they emphasize my smallish waist. Plus, by virtue of simply eyeball trickery, anything with a high waist makes your legs look longer. 

     They also may look like they're folded over funny on the sides, but that's actually just where I took out all the extra fabric to make them fit. I ended up taking a lot of width out of the waist-band and tapering it out to make the legs loose and comfortable. That's why they look vaguely triangular in that picture: I'm actually a triangle (are you seeing now why it's so hard for me to buy shorts?). That's also where I lost a chunk of the small pocket, but I don't mind.

     You may notice that after all that talk of wanting cut-offs, these have a roll instead of a plain cut-off edge. That's because I'm still deciding how I want the edge to end up. I may leave them rolled (although if I go that route, I'll definitely even out the roll so it's the same width all around), or I may run them through the washer and let them unravel and fray a bit. I can't decide!

     As for the process, it breaks down into three steps, with an optional step depending on the size of the jeans you choose:

1. Try the jeans on inside-out and mark out a general indication of how much you need to take out. Don't worry about being precise; this project is mostly a series of adjustments that will eventually yield your ideal result. 

2. (Optional) If the jeans you're working with aren't ridiculously big on you, take the outside leg seams out of both legs. This way, if you end up keeping any part of the jeans the same size, the seam won't fold and pooch weird where the old seam ends and your new one begins. If they're super big, don't worry about it, you're just going to cut off the old seams anyway. 

3. Turn the jeans inside out and sew new leg seams in the general region of where you marked them. I recommend erring on the side of too-big (easier to adjust later) and doing this with a long basting stitch so if you don't like the result, you can easily take it out and try again. I also recommend doing this very slowly and carefully, because you can break a needle very easily on this type of project. I personally burned through two: one when I got too speed-happy and ran into a rivet, and another when I hit a particularly thick seam. Old denim and men's denim are tricky like that: because they're thicker and not stretchy, the seams are super thick. Once you've got your new seam, turn them right side out and try them on. If you like the result (keep in mind, they'll be a little snug with the extra fabric tucked in there -- I know it's a pain, but it really is better to check before you whack it all off), go ahead and sew the seam in a shorter, more permanent and sturdy stitch length, and cut off the extra fabric. Then try them on again and adjust to your liking. If they're still too big anywhere, just keep moving your stitch lines in on each side wherever the jeans need shrinking.

4. Cut off the legs at the length of your preference. Remember that you probably don't want to cut the shorts straight across unless you're a skinny minnie whose thighs have never thought of touching one another.  For most people, it's best to cut them at a slight angle, with the inseam a touch longer than the outside seam. That way if they ride up a smidge when you walk, you won't get that weird hungry-crotch effect where it looks like your crotch is eating your shorts (awkward).

     And because you know how I do, let's end this thing with a before and after shot! Let's also be appreciative that I'm putting a picture of myself in shorts on the internet, where things live eternal, all for the sake of this blog. The things I do for love!

Swimsuit Rebuild: Part II: Swimsuit-ier

     With the top of that old bathing suit successfully transformed into a cute bikini top, it was time to tackle the bottom. I thought it was going to be a real headache for one simple reason: swimsuit elastic. I'd never worked with swimsuit elastic before (only the thicker fabric elastics used for clothing), and the thought of trying to finagle that little plastic ribbon into place while maintaining proper stretch, all on a finicky swimsuit fabric, sounded terrifying to me. But surprisingly, it wasn't hard at all! I love when things turn out easier than you expect; it happens so rarely. So let's get down to details!

     The first thing I did was whack off some of the extra fabric to make the bottom a little easier to work with. Then came the tedious part: taking out all the old elastic. I decided it would be best to take it out, instead of trying to match up the seams of old and new elastic for two reasons. First, because I wasn't sure how well I could get everything to come together, and I really wanted a smooth final result. Second, because it was an old swimsuit that had been stored in the attic for a while, and I didn't trust the integrity of the old elastic. When I got inside the seam and started ripping it out, my suspicions were confirmed: it was all crackly and breakable. No good! So out it all came.

     Then I turned it inside out, tried it on, and marked where I wanted the top to end. I figured I'd want it to just go straight across from right before where the curve of that middle piece started, which seems straightforward enough, but it's always best to try things on, mark 'em up, measure and measure again before you do anything that can't be easily reversed.

   
     Next came the part I was so nervous about: the elastic. I wrapped the elastic around my hips at a comfortable tightness to figure out how much I needed, then marked the front center, back center, and side of both the elastic and the inside of the swimsuit so I would have some idea how taut I needed to pull the swimsuit when I sewed in the elastic. Then I sewed the elastic in with a zigzag stitch to allow it to stretch. According to the YouTube videos I watched before trying this (gotta learn somewhere!), you want the zigzag to catch the elastic and also get the fabric to roll over the edge of the elastic a bit, if that makes sense, to finish the edge. Admittedly, this part was a little harrowing: it involved some trial and error tying to find the ideal stitch width, and since the elastic is clear, I sewed right off of it without noticing a time or two at the beginning and had to go back and try again. But once I figured it out, it was easy peasy lemon squeezy.

     After I'd attached the elastic, I folded it over and sewed around the top twice in order to match the seaming on the rest of the suit. If I were fancy, I would have used twin needles for this part, but...I'm not. I don't have twin needles. So I just tried my best to keep the stitches straight and evenly spaced, and succeeded pretty nicely at it, if I do say so myself. Which left me with this finished product!

     And the best part was that when I tried it on, it fit perfectly! It was a fabulous surprise because I was convinced I'd have mucked up the whole "stretch the elastic as you sew it" part. 

     Here's the finished suit together!

     And a reminder of what it started out as, because you know I love a good before and after.

Bathing Suit Rebuild, Part 1

     Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, I ordered a swimsuit from a catalog. It had a really cute pattern, and appeared to be a simple, classic one-piece shape. But when it arrived, I thought some grave error had transpired: it was not a one-piece at all, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. It actually just had a front piece to it, and huge gaping cutouts, if you can even call them that, on the sides. So the front was a one-piece, and the back was a bikini. It was the mullet of swimsuits. It turns out that the model wearing it in the catalog was just so skinny that you couldn't see the cutouts. It didn't do me any favors with the surprise cutouts, and there wasn't any support in the bust anyway, and so I never wore it. 

     Recently though, I dug it out while rummaging through my stored clothes and thought "Why not try to save this?" I was never going to wear it, so I had nothing to lose. And I did still really like the pattern of the fabric...

I mean come on, it's hearts, I couldn't just throw it out. You knew it was gonna be hearts or polka dots.

     The way it's put together, I figured it would be pretty straightforward to turn it into an honest-to-God bikini, instead of just a from-one-angle imposter. It would need a lot of work to make the top fit right, but I knew I could do it. So I set to work! 

     First I cut the top part of the swimsuit away from the offending midriff piece. They were two separate pieces that had been attached to each other in some mad scientist's lab to begin with, so separating them was no big feat. Next I ripped the underwire out of an old bra. You can buy new underwire if you're not into butchering your old clothing, but if you know me at all, you'll know hacking old clothing apart to repurpose it is something of a hobby of mine. Plus I'm cheap, so why not use what you have? 

I wonder who invented underwire? "Yes, it shall be a great invention! It shall support women's chests and periodically break free and STAB THEM in the underarms and/or sternums! Brilliant!" You just know it was a dude.

   
     Then the wires went into the casing from some boning that had had the plastic bits removed. The ends got folded over for comfort and protection against the afore-mentioned stabbing.

Looks like the sad eyes of a cartoon ghost.

      
     Then I stuck 'em in the pocket that was already there (it originally had those obnoxious little inserts that never sit flat in there, but you better believe I tossed those suckers im-mee-jut-ly) and tacked them in place at the outside edge and the bottom of the cup (to keep the lining from rolling outwards and showing-- it's flesh colored, that would look rather unseemly). 

     
     Then my mom very sweetly offered to sew the pocket shut by hand, probably because she knows that when I have to hand-sew things, I become a whiny little gremlin for the duration of the project. 

      Next, the whole thing just needed a general tightening. All that entailed was moving the halter strap down a few inches and re-attaching it, then cutting off the extra, and for the back, moving both the plastic hook and the loop it goes through over an inch on each side in the back.

     And suddenly I had a finished, wearable top! Obviously I'm not going to model it for you because the internet is forever, and the flash from my camera would probably rebound off my pale belly-flesh and blind people like a laser. So you'll have to settle for this picture of it nicely arranged on my work surface. 

     Ta-daaaa! I'm so glad I decided to put some effort into this thing and save it. Now that it's just a regular bikini top, I really do love it. It's very 1950s pin-up esque, which I dig. 

     And iff you're curious how I'm going to turn that weird swimsuit overalls thing up there into a bikini bottom, be sure to check back for part 2! 

Quick Fixes: Dress Reclamation (That doesn't sound like a real word, but it totally is, trust me)

     So I had this dress that I really wanted to be able to wear this spring and summer because it is TOTALLY a Game of Thrones dress. Vibrant blue and drapey and floor length. But it also had a series of...issues, let's say, around the neckline. This is because I once had a comedy of errors in trying to make it slightly less cleave-a-licious. Basically, I was young and foolish (this was like, a year ago. How I've grown!), I thought I could simply stick a safety pin in there. Alas, because the dress is a jersey-ish material, it just made holes in it, and I felt like I had ruined the dress. So then I thought "Ah, I know! I'll fold the edge inward to hide the holes, glue it with that liquid-stitch stuff, and no one will be the wiser!" Guess how that worked out? It bled through to the other side, further ruining the front of the dress.

     But no more! I finally dragged it out of its storage box home and decided I would re-animate it with the simple addition of some pretty trim to cover all those missteps from a past life. Which took the dress from this...

Waaaah, sad holes and glue spots!

      

     To this...

Yaaay, sparkly shiny grecian delightfulness! I had a hard time getting the clingy fabric to fall right on the dress form, could you tell?

     Now in the interest of full disclosure, this is not the quickest of quick fixes I've ever done, because I wanted to do it right (and avoid having a third mishap in my seemingly endless quest to accidentally destroy this dress) so I sewed it on by hand. With clear thread. I swear to you, if I ever get the job of Activities Director in Hell, on Thursdays we will hand-sew things with clear thread. It's finicky and tangly and weird and makes me feel like I'm sewing with a strand of hair from Dumbledore's beard. But the tedium was worth it to bring this dress back to its former glory.

The Pink Housecoat Reimagining

     That could totally be the title of some weird indie movie starring James Franco as a mentally unstable crossdresser. You're welcome, Hollywood.

     But no, that's not what I came here to talk about. I wanted to give you a quick update on the progress of what was originally supposed to be the pink jacket. You remember, the thing that looked like Sleeping Beauty's dress before they fixed it with magic?  

Basically.

     Well, after staring at it on the dress form for a good hour or so, I decided there was no way it was going to turn into a cute jacket. Not without magic anyway. It just wasn't going to happen. T'was not in the cards. Le sigh. 

     But I wasn't going to let that stop me. I'm not about to waste fabric. So I started planning how I could salvage it, and ended up deciding to go for a sort of 60's mod sleeveless dress. But figuring out a plan was the easy part. Actually turning that mess of a thing into something a human being might wear is turning out to be even more of a challenge than I thought. So far I've cut out a good foot of fabric from various ludicrously oversized areas, as well as added darts in the front for some shape--the new front, that is. I flipped it around so that the back of the jacket is going to be the front of the dress, so that the front won't have a seam all the way down the middle. 

This is on the dress form, so no one has to feel weird about this being a picture of boobs.

 
     And it worked out nicely because I wanted to put a zipper in the back anyway. I picked white, rather than a matching pink, and chose to leave it visible because I plan to add other white details later that I think will all tie together nicely.

In other good news, I actually took the time to color-correct these pictures, so they're at least somewhat close to their true colors! Wheee!

     Still to come: more shaping, facings, a collar, and hemming. It's slow-going work, trying to troubleshoot the approximately 8 million things wrong with the fit of this thing, but it's a good learning experience for me. And hopefully for other people, who will read the tale of how this went so horribly wrong and learn from my mistake (that mistake being: TRUST NO PATTERN SIZING).