Steampunk Black Dress: Bodice Fitting

Before the fitting, on with the corset.

Last Saturday morning Jenni of Living With Jane and Laura came over for a quiet morning's chat and to fit the dress bodice.

The bodice pattern is Truly Victorian TV 400, the 1871 Day Bodice. Heather McNaughton, Truly Victorian's creator and pattern designer, developed a novel fitting system. One takes careful measurements of one's body, and then selects individual pattern pieces that best fit the measurements. Since I am fairly proportionally sized, and also 5'5" tall, all my pattern pieces are size E. That might not be the case for someone else: they might use pattern D for one piece, and pattern E for several others, etc. In this way there is less fitting needed.


The corset is by Kay Gnagey. I bought it before the twins were
born and at that point had a two-inch smaller waist. Now
the corset barely fits, hence the wide spring in the lacing.
I'd be happier with an even 2" top to bottom.
 

Fitting Notes

Not all fitting issues can be solved by a pattern (how many times have we heard that?), hence the need for fitting. Per Heather's admonition, we made all the fittings to the two front pieces, with the exception of making the side pieces just adjacent a little narrower.

We found that we had to reshape the darts into a fish shape, and take up a great deal of the front piece's shoulder line to smooth out the entire front and to avoid gapping when I leaned over. After all, I am a mature woman, and my chest lacks the roundness of a younger person; the allowance for roundness had to be taken up.

I am so fortunate Jenni lives nearby: she is a good fitter. It is SO nice to have help. Else I'd have been tweaking for weeks -- months, really -- as I had to for the Regency cross-front dress.



This picture is a howl! Christopher is so solemn, and I seem to be sensible that I am am wearing
what appear to be shoulder wings. Fly, fly away!

I was tempted to fit the bodice even more smoothly in front, except for Heather's admonition that it should fit snugly, but not tightly. When it comes to finishing the actual fronts, I will place the hooks and eyes such that a smoother result obtains.

Notice the hollows above the bust, next to the underarms. Ah, the effects of aging. Elizabeth Stewart Clark of The Sewing Academy has discussed that hollow many times on her forum, and teaches us how to deal with it in her sewing guide, The Dressmaker's Guide, Second Edition. Light padding! Yep, padding, no thicker than what one might find on this decade's typical bra, but placed a little higher. By the way, I've found her book invaluable over the years, not just for mid-century sewing, but for modern sewing. Her instructions are concise, crystalline, comforting; her discussion of bodice draping is one of the best around. Want to learn to swing a dart? That book will bond how it's done into your memory.



Geek  note: for better fitting, get your hair out of the way. No hair clip? Wind hair into a
chignon and stick a pencil through it. Geekalicious.

Back fit, above. Eep. There is a little more lumping near the top of the corset than I would like. If it doesn't pull out from the weight of the skirt, or the boning, well, I have some tweaking to do.  We didn't notice it at the time, worse luck. Remember, though, that one should not futz with this part of the pattern, according to Heather McNaughton. If the back doesn't fit, check your measurements again and select different pattern pieces.



Hello, says my sweet helper!

The side view always bothers my modern eye. The Victorians allowed, even celebrated, the little rounding of the abdomen below the waist and a woman's natural bustle was definitely celebrated :} Well, I certainly have one -- always have -- and have never been happy with that particular shape, but for this era, it's perfect. Still, it's so apparent some weight still needs to come off. Bit by bit. It was gone last fall, but recurrent illnesses over the last year allowed it to accumulate again, dadburn it!

You can see the hollowing above the bust and near the underam very clearly here.

Again, there's a wee wrinkling in the bodice, but when it's smoothed down with the hands, it goes away, and I believe that when the bodice and skirt are hook-and-eyed together, it will be pulled into straightness.

When I lean over, there is no gapping. That's important. The bodice fits like a sort of skin, as it should.

The bodice is long. I will trim it off to a slightly higher than natural round waist, per 1870.

Post Fitting Notes

We marked all the changes carefully while I was still wearing the toile. Later I darkened the markings, and evened them out, recut the edges of the toile pieces as needed to get rid of excess, and then made a master copy in Swedish tracing paper, complete with all markings. Because the left side doesn't quite match the right side -- one of my shoulders is a slightly different shape -- there are 8 pattern pieces for the bodice (excluding sleeves), not just four.

I am reusing the final toile as the lining. Here it is.

The seamlines are marked as solid lines. If the vertical seamlines connecting the pieces together appear to have a lot bigger seam allowance than Heather's 1/2", well, they do. That's because I am constructing the bodice according to directions from Harper's Bazar, circa 1868. The directions have you use lapped seams, which I am used to from Regency-era sewing, and into which bones are inserted. No need to create boning channels! Integral seam finishing! What's not to like?

I will be following these same directions for the rest of the bodice: for the piped armscyes and the cording at neckline and waistline, for the front closure, and so on. The directions are straightforward. The highly detailed article, which covers putting together bodices and skirts, is a gem, and is superbly illustrated with the original copperplate drawings from the magazine. It delves into minute detail: exactly how to construct plackets, fabrics to be used for linings, making and attaching shank buttons, stitches to use, cording and piping, seam allowances...

You can find the article in Frances Grimble's Reconstruction Era Fashions, a fantastic book I've had on my shelf for several years. Patterns for everything you need for 1868-69, and with a little tweaking, through maybe 1871.

Today I leave you with...

...the twins, driving Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, the marvelous Edwardian roadster that could float and fly. We're in the middle of it (we watch little bits at a time), and we're having such fun!

 

Steampunk Black Dress: Finished Petticoat!

Yes, it has a wee train!

Good morning! After a good bit of sneezing and sniffing, getting used to the twins' Kindergarten routine, helping with housepainting, and handling the rest of the daily round, I am back to record the actual completion of a garment. Am I proud! It's been ages since anything has actually been finished, and it feels nice. Hobbies always take a back seat to life's responsibilities and the pleasures of family and friends, but they are important to me nonetheless. They're an expression of the purely personal interest, a portion of the identity set apart from responsibility, duty, societal expectation and the common culture. I need my hobby like a plant needs that extra bit of rich soil to really bloom its clearest and brightest.

There. In defense of hobbies. So expendable, but so integral to a well-rounded, full life.

As you may remember, the petticoat bottom is covered with a flounce, so we have two layers of fabric there for extra foot-level fluff. The flounce comes from a very damaged petticoat. Poor thing, it was worn and repaired into practically rags and didn't even make a good piece to show people as a learning tool.

One of the repairs still sits in the new petticoat, a large patch of a rip that I suppose had turned into a vee-shaped hole.



.

Look at the picture above. Do you see the vee-shaped hole with the patch behind it? The seamstress put a running stitch around it, and then also made another running stitch around the entire patch. She used coarse thread and a very large stitch size. I've seen all qualities of repairs on garments: the roughness of this one is pretty common.

The bottom of the flounce has been stepped on so that some of the dagged whitework edge is torn or missing, and part of the applied insertion is torn or missing. I can do those repairs at some other point. For this steampunk event, I want the slightly tatty effect.

The top of the flounce is turned under and top-stitched on. The 1870s flounced petticoats I've seen usually seem to just stitch the flounce right side to right side, and then fold over the top so that the flounce hangs down. Feeling that the old fabric should be stitched through twice, I top-stitched it. The join will be covered by whitework trim when I find the right type. Could take awhile, so for this project, we're fine as as.

Ooh, What an Extravagant Silhouette, Bounce, Bounce

Note the damage on the flounce.

That's what I love about the early 1870s. It's curvy! Looking from the front, the base silhouette is tapered, a A-line. From the side? Whee! Spirited puff! The underskirt will have a similar shape. It's the overskirt that creates the final fluffy, pouf: side paniers and a back puff.

The critical eye might find that the uper front of the skirt is a little lax, a little undulating. That's the fault of the bustle. Looks like I need to tighten up the front portion so that it hangs tightly.

Next up? The bodice. With help from sweet and talented Jenni of Living with Jane, the bodice toile has been fitted.  I'll report on that, of course, because you'll see just how much the front bodice pieces can be shaped to get a smooth, gap-free result.

In the meantime, I leave you with late-summer boys, watching the goldfish in the arboretum's fishpond. Oh summer, by now you've stepped out the door. Goodbye, goodbye!

 

Kertyschoo! The First School Bug Hits

Achoo! Sniffle. We all hab codes in de dnose.

Last week marked the first week of school and a couple of cold viruses decided to make a bold entrance, and drop near the entire class with sneezles and wheezles. Parents and siblings too.

Ah well. My mother remembers going to school with a cold, and I certainly do too; the rule in this town is that you're in school unless you have a fever or something nasty like roseola, etc.

Hunh. I know our nation hopes and expects our children to grow up to be well-educated, helpful and responsible citizens, but does that include passing around germs so that their families, parental workmates and colleagues, fellow parishioners, and store clerks everywhere share in the sneezy joy, lose both sleep and equanimity?  Especially while we gain bad moods, exhaustion, and general whininess all around?

I am well aware that staying home with sick children make parents who work lose work hours or adds to the burden of grandparents or sitters. I am aware of the chaos that causes, because I work part-time.

How can we balance this? With quarantine rooms at school, for all the sickies who cannot stay home?

I just do not know. Our society is so complex, and so unbalanced...



Are we expecting too much of little five year olds?

Steampunk Black Dress: Petticoat Progress

I had some unexpected time this week, and was able to turn out the most part of the bustle petticoat!

The pattern is the sensibly designed Truly Victorian Underskirt pattern, TV201. It can be used for petticoats, too.

It's been easy as pie to do. All skirt seams are left raw or are pinked, the skirt hem is 1" deep and machine sewn in straight stitch. The placket is simply hemmed. I checked Reconstruction Era Fashions, by Frances Grimble, and sure enough, the Harper's Bazar petticoat pattern therein directs the seamstress to hemming it with a narrow hem, and overlap the closure 1-2 inches.

The flounce is an antique. I had a heavily damaged petticoat in my possession with a massively gathered flounce on it. Most likely 1890s or Edwardian, the embroidery nonetheless recalls that of earlier decades. Therefore, I removed the flounce, undid all the gathers, and voila, more than enough for the bustle petticoat.

The petticoat has seen lots of use: the eyelet embroidery on the bottom had been trodden on or caught on things so often that parts are missing or torn. I will back those spots with plain muslin. Another part shows a large mend where a hole had been patched. I am making sure that the new muslin base skirt is long enough to protect the flounce.

I've pinned it in place, mostly, a fiddly process since the flounce is still whole, not in a long strip. It's laid flat in front, and will be laid in tiny gathers in back. The raw top edge is turned over.

It's been fun doing this project so far. See you next time!

Farewell to Babyhood

Tomorrow, Kindergarten. Farewell, babyhood, farewell.

We've visited each babyhood haunt, we've hugged and kissed and looked deeply at them, willing our minds to embed their moments into unfading memory, we've had our favorite meals and treats, we've read our favorite books.

They've already left most of babyhood, of course, yet as they step through the double doors tomorrow, it's the ceremonial step into a new world.

Farewell, babyhood, farewell.

We will hug you and kiss you and guide you and help you learn responsibility and the Golden Rule that is the essence of all good living. We will learn to let you fly on your own, bit by bit.

Oh, it's so hard to begin letting go!

An 1870s Steampunk Black Dress



"On the Grass", by Berthe Morisot, 1874.

Not steampunk, but it is black

and in a setting dear to a

mother's heart.

 Ever since 2008 I've had a First Bustle era bustle all made up and waiting for me. At last, it's time to use it, because in October we are going to have a Steampunk Sunday Tea! A whole bunch of us, including Jenni over at Living with Jane, are getting really excited about the possibilities.

Anything goes at this event, and my ensemble will be much more about inspiration and fun, and much less about being a stickler for perfection. Plus, it has to be unfussy to make, with little or no handwork, because family life is so busy. Pinking shears, I need you: no handsomely finished seams this time...

Out comes the treadle, of course, and out come the Truly Victorian patterns that have been waiting, and the "I'm-not-sure-it's-really-cotton-gray-broadcloth", and the Hancock's Halloween black muslin, all of which date to before the twins' birth. The only thing to purchase? Some black ribbon. I even have thread.


Scene from "Stardust", a steampunk-
fantasy, complete with fallen
stars, flying pirate ships,
and witches!


The look? Chic, restrained, a study in gray and black and cream, mattes and satins, in honor of the season.

Well, well, that's all nice, but what about the details? Let's start with the all-important overskirt, a defining element of the early 1870s aesthetic, other than the bustle itself, of course. Let's look at some options and see where they lead.

Warning: wordiness ahead: I have been thinking things out around bedtime for awhile, now, and have been tippy-typing on the computer as ideas occur. Lo, it all piled up.

Those of you wondering where the sleeveless spencer went? Please be patient, it will get there. Meantime, I am off playing during this silly season.


Split Pannier Tunic Overskirt, March 1870

Here's an idea for an overskirt, from Peterson's, 1870:



The description:

The pattern and how to put it together. All I need is the tunic part. I can attach that to a waistband.


If you look carefully, there is a sash worn on top: it's attached to a belt. Sashes were considered "indispensible", as Peterson's put it, and could be easily changed out. The belts hid the joins between bodice and skirt.

Well, it's sweet, but the overskirt is too short for my taste. Let's look again.

Black Double-Aproned Dress, Sometime in 1873



Image courtesy Fashion-Era.com

  There we go, that's better. It's the figure in black, second from right, that pitty-pats my heart. The front and back apron design is exactly what I was looking for, and the underskirt effect, the train, everything. The only thing I am not sure about is the jacket styling of the bodice. I'd prefer a plain bodice with a belt.

Let's look at an extant piece to determine how to make it up. Here is an 1870-75 walking dress, accession number, 2009.300.1900a–c, from the Met. The back has a large bustle effect, and is a little boufier than I want, but the seamlines clearly show the number of panels needed to create it. I have used colored lines to indicate the panels.

There are a total of 8 panels needed, 4 to a side:

• The front apron needs a front panel (#1), gored, with two side panels (#2), also gored. The back of the side panel is drawn up almost to the top of the overskirt; the drawing up is hidden by the side "tie" trim. The bottom of both gores is shaped into a curve.
• The back needs a gored panel #3, slightly curved at the bottom, and the back is composed of two panels, cut on the straight and pleated at the top.
• In this case, the waistband to which all panels are attached is hidden underneath the bodice.

To create it:

• A short front apron, using a variety of the pattern from the split pannier tunic, up top. I may or may not need multiple gored pieces, depending on how I can cut the fabric.
• The back piece: made of one panel, but doubled fabric to make it double wide), pleated at the top and with a curved hem. When cut out, it would be shaped like a very wide, long "U", I think. The upper part lined with net or "crin" to help hold the puff. The puff would be pulled up into shape with an interior cord. 
• The overskirt is trimmed with knife pleating, with header. The details are unclear in the image, but a narrow satin ribbon can cover the join of pleating to the aprons. Follow Heather McNaughton's directions to make them.




Miss Blueberry Muffin, outfitted by nature with her own bustle and train.


• I will have to make up the underskirt first, then drape the overskirt on top. Both front and back should be lined with plain white muslin, so they hang better, so I can drape the shapes using that plain muslin lining.

What About the Underskirt?
The 1873 Peterson's underskirt is just beautiful The upper part of the skirt appears to be scalloped, or perhaps it's ornamented with ribbon or soutache cord in scalloped shapes. I can find no detailed image to tell. The double layer of knife-pleated flouncing without headers, is streamlined. Love that.

Here are detailed instructions on making it, written down now so I don't forget!

Cut a black muslin lining, using TV201 as pattern, and adding a wee train. Face the back with another layer of lining, to about 6 inches deep, cut from the same pattern. Cut a third from iron-on interfacing. Turn right sides together, sew, and turn in the facing. Stitch down the top of the facing. This makes a fine strong hem that will not catch on anything, and was done during the period (although crin or other stiffener was used instead of the commercial interfacing). It helps hold the skirt to the right shape.

• Mount a short top layer to the lining.
• Use the TV201 pattern, but cut the pieces short, to mid-thigh in front, to knee-level in back.
• Line the bottom to a depth of four inches or so, but put the right sides together. Baste strongly.
• Using a stencil, cut scallops along the outer edge, through both lining and fashion fabric. Sew along this line.
• Turn the lining inwards, and tack closed. Top-stitch along the scallop edges if necessary to help them lie flat.
• Sew to skirt lining.
• Cut and pleat the flounces. To pleat, use Heather McNaughton's directions. Spray with vinegar and press to help the pleats hold their shape.
• Mount the upper of the double flounces to the lining. Sew it to the lining just up under the bottom of the upper skirt. Pink the top flounce so it needs no finishing. Mount the lower flounce the same way, plain hemming it for durability.
• Inside the bottom of the muslin lining, tack a gathered balayeuse.

Oh, and There's a Sash?

Yes, but of course! The design, to come.

How about the Bodice?

Much as I like the jacket look of the 1873 plate, it's too hefty, and would not have a square neck, of course. I want the square neck, and need a very fitted waist.

Therefore, a plain, high waist is best, using TV 400, but with elbow-length sleeves. Trimming the neckline and sleeves is the next question, and I will save that for another day.

This evening I leave you with another memory of the lake:



Silliness on the pontoon boat: we know Christopher loved his Fig Newton cookie, but what's with Noah?



Summer Interlude on a Lake

Splash, sigh, tre, tre, tre, tre, sighhhhh, sing the waves on the pebbly shingle.

Zzzhhhhhhhhzzzzzzz says the reel as the line is slung out into blue-green waters.

Chattering, the boys hunt for fossils.

Giggle-sploosh -- Mama and Noah in the warm, soft water.

Whisper, and sit under the sycamore at the old water's edge, and sniff the pure smell of summertime.

Sigh.

Sleeveless / Convertible Spencer: Proof of Construction!

Whee! Construction starts! Here's proof, in three pictures:

Turning in hem allowances along the armscye of one front piece -- pinning them in place prior to perpetrating a point a rabattre sous le main hem on it. Because the hem is curved, I needed a lot of pins. Otherwise the fashion fabric would have wrinkled badly.

Why is the stitching on top of Costume Close Up? Because I kept referring to it...

Hem sewing, in progress. Because I am left-handed, I sew from left to right. In Koshka-the-cat's version of the stitch, probably a more accurate one because it's faster, one makes a running stitch through the fashion fabric side of the work, but picking up a few threads of the lining hem when bringing the needle out. If one uses matching thread, this is fast and easy, and binds two layers and finishes the hem in one step.

I was concerned that my stitches be as even as possible, since I am sewing them in contrasting yellow thread for effect. Therefore, I push the needle upwards to the back, catching just the fashion fabric. Then I push the needle back through to the front, this time straight through both lining and fashion fabric. Doing so, I can measure the length of each stitch precisely. Slower, and therefore not efficiently mantua-maker-esque, but the result looks even, and nice from both front and back. Later I'll play with ways to make this stitch both fast and even.

Some finished hems. At about a hem or a lapped seam a day, it will take me a bit to complete the spencer, but it's about all the speed I can manage :}

Ciao!

Sleeveless / Convertible Spencer: Embroidery Completed!

At long last, eh? I started the embroidery in late April, and here it is, practically late July. The project started October 26, 2011. How's that for glacial movement?

Ta-da.

I've worked on the project in bits and drabs, obviously. Sure wish I'd kept careful count of the hours, but would say it varied from 30 minutes to 1 hour per complete motif.

Can you find the single blue motif? Why is there only one when the effect is so nice? I meant to use more of that color. Let's make up a myth to explain it. What shall it be?

The embroidery is sparse, similar to both extant spencers in the Metropolitan from which my design is inspired. It will feel tighter, however, when the seam allowances are turned and the pleating is added to the neckline.

American or European spencer, 1800-1830
Metropolitan Museum of Art

C.I.38.100.10

Late 18th century spencer
Metropolitan Museum of Art

1970.281.1

Now for construction, if I remember how to do it :}

Today I leave you with a bit of the silly season --

Three friends outside the entrance to the formal garden at Ashland Estate.

Will I Be There, or Not? The JaneFest Cliffhanger

La Migraine. Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons. My
favorite part of this picture? The maid running to
halt the little boy playing a big drum. Ohhh, the pain!

Our heroine holds one hand to the back or her neck, the other to her forehead, and lapses into a reverie. Will she take tea with friends the weekend next, not any ordinary tea, mind you, but four courses of delectables and multiple pots of proper looseleaf, piping hot? Will she happen upon a duel, attend a play and keep one eye on the stage while the other admires the company around her? Will she stroll meadows and allees under her parasol? Will she seek and gladly find the company of friends old and new?

Or will -- here her head drops to the marginal comfort of her crossed forearms -- will she lie in her chamber, the curtains drawn against excruciating light, her ears stopped with pillows to the ordinarily dear sounds of her own children, a heating pad under the neck and a cold compress on the forehead, wrestling in despair with the devils hammering at all sides of her head?

That moment lies in the next chapter, my friends, but if plot twists past indicate accurately, the abominable headache bed is as likely as the Jane Austen Festival. For our heroine and her family are prey to the migraine and to the spectre of overwork.

+ + + + +

Well, let's leave that grim scene, shall we? I've visited it too often in the last year to make writing about it any more than a barren pleasure.

So, if you see me next weekend at the Jane Austen Festival at Locust Grove in Louisville, with my twins in hand, let's celebrate together, for I've been looking forward to returning to the festival since last July. Bonnie Wise and all the staff and volunteers put on a really memorable Regency-themed weekend. If you don't see me, you will know that a) I am trying to keep the boys far from my husband's office, where he is working with few breaks, or b) the headache bed has reclaimed its victim and unseated the entire family's equilibrium.

If you do see me, you probably won't see this, at least finished and on my back:



The back section of the sleeveless spencer, pinned to the embroidery frame

It's the back piece of the sleeveless spencer, underway since last fall. Love you as I do, it's about time, Miss Spencer that you finished yourself up, for you're getting borrrrrring to your readers and realllllllllly boring to me, too. In fact, I wish you would finish yourself up, yourself, and leave me out of it, while I go work, or fold laundry, or weed the garden, or have dinner with my husband and boys, or picnic with friends, or pet the cats, or finish Blue at the Mizzen, or sleep, anything but see your pretty purple face, undone.

De Saint-Aubin's The Art of the Embroiderer, 1770

One final motif, at the bottom center of that back piece, needs doing. I am slowly getting better at embroidering them, especially with the assistance of a new book that's taken abode here, de Saint-Aubin's L'Art du Brodeur, or The Art of the Embroiderer. Hallie Larkin wrote about the book in May. I'd known of its existence of course, but only in French, and when Hallie Larkin said that LACMA had put out a facsimile version with English translation, in the 1980s, I was on the hunt like white on rice. Finally nabbed a copy at a quarter of the usual price. You all, if you embroider 18th century style, you have to have this book, and you must read it with great attention, and then compare text and images it to modern-day resources like Mary Corbet's Needle 'n Thread and 18th Century Clothing Techniques, then go muse and experiment.

For example, I could have been doing my flat silk embroidery with what is now known as split stitch, and have avoided the issues that have arisen with trying to do shading with laid stitch. Split stitch was the recommended method for embroideresses to use when doing shaded flat silk work. The stitch remains today, and Mary Corbet has an online tutorial about it, as part of her long-and-short-stitch tutorial, bless her.

Then too, de Saint-Aubin at last convinced me of what no one else could, that pinning my work to the impromptu embroidery frame may be fine for loose work on gauze, but not for silk. I need a real frame to get the proper tension and so avoid the puckers that bother some of the motifs. Now to figure out how to make one, because purchasing one is not in the cards -- erm -- wallet.

Finally, the book tells us how to work with silk chenille! At last, solid help in this area, for it's actually not as easy at it seems! Is anything ever as easy as it seems? Really?

+ + + + +

Ah, the current headache has lifted a little. It's not a migraine, just a run-of-the-mill bother, and I can at least write a bit. Now it's to work awhile. A deadline looms next week, and if I get a jump on it, so much the better. One never knows what the next day will serve up. 

A Slinking, Sneaky Vegetable

At first we thought the plant sprouting in the flower garden must be a sunflower from a seed scattered by birds. Then it grew sideways, not up, and we thought, poor thing, it snapped untimely, but let it be and perhaps new stems will grow from the stump. It put on wide leaves, and we thought it might be a cucumber. Then it made its first blossom, amidst now enormous leaves, and we thought, aha, squash. Then it tendriled up from the ground and slunk across the deck, and we thought, well, it's a hybrid: it's producing nothing. Then we left for vacation.

Not a hybrid. The theory yesterday, a watermelon, given the longish ovoid shape, and we did spit watermelon seeds that direction last summer.

Yes, spit them. I am an honest girl.

The theory now that I examine it again: pumpkin. That stalk, that shape, those stripes. The boys did leave their Halloween pumpkins near until just after a proper burial was due.

It's teasing us with dozens of blooms and lurches nightly towards far side of the deck and the fence, in the neighbor's direction.

I've not planted such a thing on purpose before, and acquainted I may be with misc. mesclun greens, gherkins, tomatoes, collards, cotton, peanuts, carrots, potatoes, arugula, lettuces and radishes, yet this beast is making me nervous. Not like the other sudden plant next the side of the house, cherrily bearing cherry tomatoes and so obligingly set by a messy chipmunk.

What is he, please?

Winner! Simplicity "Civil War" Patterns Giveaway

The boys pick a winner.

The twins say, "We have a winner!" This morning they wrote numbers on individual slips of paper, folded them up, and put them in a wooden box belonging to their blocks. I mixed up the slips, one boy drew out a slip, the other opened it, and they held up #10 for all to see.

So Jessie Schaefer-Winters, you have won the drawing! Please send your snailmail to me at L a d y b u g M i s s B l u e b e r r y M u f f i n at Gmail and I will send off the patterns in a bit.

Thank all of you for putting in your names, and for your kind comments. If only I had more of these patterns to share.
Congratulations again. I hope the patterns will be fun to make up, and I am so glad that they are going to a good home.

Another Giveaway: Simplicity "Civil War" Patterns, Designed by Martha McCain and Kay Gnagey

The cleanout continues. This time it's a batch of five Simplicity patterns for 1860s wear: chemises, corsets, hoops, dresses, apron. Four by Martha McCain, one by Kay Gnagey, which means they are well researched.

All the patterns are complete, never used.

Why are they going? The American Civil War is just too close for comfort. Our house is built on part of Henry Clay's former farm, Ashland (part of the estate is saved, thank goodness), and very close to here men fought each other and wounded and killed one another. Family members all over town argued and battled with each other because they took different sides in the conflict in this border state. People were bought and sold at Cheapside just downtown. Imagine the suffering. No, no, it's just too emotionally close; I cannot manage to evoke any sense of those years without sadness. I've tried, but just cannot do it.

Let me pass these on then, to someone who can enjoy this era to its fullest!

The patterns:

• 7212, size RR (14, 16, 18, 20, EUR 40-46)
• 9769, size RR (ditto)
• 9764, size RR (ditto)
• 7215, size RR (ditto)
• 2887, size US 16, 18, 20, 22, 24 (EUR 42-52) 

If you'd like this set of patterns, please leave me a comment with your name either in the body of the comment or in your name line. On Friday, June 15, at 8:00 p.m. I will pick a random name and announce the winner over the weekend.

Please spread the word: I want these patterns, and those that will follow, gone to good homes.

Very best, Natalie

Giveaway Winners: Maternity Patterns!

Since just two readers were interested in the maternity patterns and the embroidery kit, I felt sad just flipping a coin and only having one winner. Mrs. C. and Kerry, I have patterns for both of you!

I'll split up the patterns I have randomly between you, and add some buttons that would be fun to add to children's clothes! Again, I had meant to use these for wee toddler clothes, but never got around to making them. The ones to the far left are ceramic, and the ones to the far right are actually wrapped like leather buttons, but the "leather" is certainly ersatz. Still, that means it's useful in the wet :}

Edited 06/11/12: Thank you, Mrs. C! I now have your address and can mail you the patterns! Kerry, if you're still interested, please leave a comment and we will arrange to get your address.
May the patterns give lots of pleasure and happiness!

Next up, a set of five Simplicity 1860s patterns...four from Martha McCain and one from Kay Gnagey!

Giveaway: Children's and Maternity Patterns!

Christopher got not only a new bed, but a new, bigger room. That meant that I had to move the guest room to the smallest bedroom, and make it an office, too. That meant cleaning out the closet. That meant parting with items I no longer need or use.

What does that mean, in turn? Paying it forward, and giveways for you... I've not done a giveaway before, and it's fun to finally have an opportunity.

The first giveaway has to do with childhood and motherhood:  a set of four patterns and a DMC kit for embroidered sprigs.

(To see the image above full size, click on it. On the slideshow screen, right-click on the image again, and from the pop-up menu, choose Properties. Cut and paste the URL into a fresh browser or browser tab, and you will get the giant photo.)

 

Our tots in their little bear hats.

Top left: a DMC cotton floss kit with sprig patterns for napkins. Frankly, I think they'd look sweet on dresses or on bibs.

Top middle: cowboy and Indian costumes, size 2: they fit our three year olds, but can size up easily. The cowboy pattern has been used, but all pieces are there.

Top right: baby snuggies. I loved this pattern, though I only used the cap. It made such cute little bear hats for Noah and Christopher! Can't recall, but I might have made up the ears myself, and certainly made up the little bear paw mitts.

John-Johns in action, on Christopher, at right.

Bottom left: John-Johns! Some of the easiest-to-wear boy clothes ever. My boys wore them during summertime almost exclusively through their third year. John-Johns don't bind a boy's waist, so he can run and move unimpeded, and there's no shirt to get in the way, either. It's just about pure freedom for the boy, and pure adorableness for me. Checks! Stripes! Cute animals on the front! We had people stopping us all the time complementing us on how nice the boys looked, for they were fresh and trim and happy in them, even if up close you could see sweet potato stains. Yup, I am a big believer in John-Johns, and was delighted when dear friend Johnny gave me this pattern. However, I was so busy just raising those twins I never was able to make my own. Perhaps you will have more time than I will.

Wee cowboys.

Bottom right: maternity wardrobe, size 18-22 (bust 40, waist 32, hip 42) - (bust 44, waist 37, hip 46). Classic and good looking. From this pattern I developed my own, waistless dress pattern, simply by raising the "waistline" and gathering the skirt, but the base patterns are nice too. Alas, no pictures exist anymore of my favorite, brown and green spotted dress.

If you'd like this set of patterns, please leave me a comment with your name either in the body of the comment or in your name line. On Friday, June 8, at 8:00 p.m. I will pick a random name and announce the winner over the weekend!

Their Fifth Birthday: New Beds

Big-boy beds to celebrate a milestone. Five years old. Phooooo. Both climb into my lap as naturally as babies; Christopher's cheeks are still rounded and stained with that ephemeral young-child pink. Noah still says "Wes" for "yes", and I hope he will say so, to me, for years and years and years.

Yet they wrestle and bicker and Noah builds complex structures with Legos -- they have delicate pieces, he says -- and Christopher is mezmerized by baseball and can catch decently already and imitates the throwing position well enough to give me pause, as well as to make me giggle. They are boys saying goodbye to early childhood.

I love them so. They tell me that they will always be my babies and make baby noises just to please me. Before pinching one another just to annoy everyone in earshot. Hahhhhh.

Here they come, back from a bike ride with Daddy. They bang on the door!