Madras and Roses in the Cards

The last shirt I made involved some madras, and this project used the rest of it (scraps aside.)

It started as a simple Fake Burda 6401/Mock McCall's 8197.

But.

I have recently been exposed to Magnolia Pearl, and while, honestly, I recoil from the shapeless post-apocalyptic whimsy of the brand, it did remind me that I can put appliqués on dresses (as opposed to the project idea I've had for an appliquéd jacket, fabrics for which I've been squirreling away already.)  It seems to have been six years since I last added appliqués to a dress.

So, I dug around for my largest chintz motifs, and anything else I might add, and, after taking way too long to sew the basic, simple dress itself, I ended up with this 

 

Were these the best decisions?  Doesn't matter! Those appliqués aren't going anywhere now!

Mad(ras) About Dolls

The last trip to the craft thrift store saw me bring home an obnoxious doll print and a madras that coordinates so incredibly well with that doll print that I strongly suspect they were donated from the same stash.  I put them together for another McCall's 6613 (with all my usual deviations from the pattern as given.)

 

 When I say a print is obnoxious, I mean it.  I am also cackling gleefully while saying it.

Leopard & Chintz

Eleven years ago, I made a shirt that mixed a floral and a leopard print.  It was very cute, but I changed size and shape enough that it no longer fit, and I gave it away.

And now I've made another version!

 

 It is less serious and more campy, and I am very happy with it. 

Lime Leopard Cardigan

The parcel of fabric so generously sent for potential doll use also included one yard of a very large lime green leopard print 60" wide knit.  I immediately knew I wanted to use it for Simplicity 8951—and, surprisingly quickly, I did 

 

 

Pastel Rainbow Stripe Three-quarter Sleeve Cardigan with Trim

As mentioned in the last post, I recently received a very generous amount of fabric scraps left over from someone's clothing projects.  I had quickly sorted the larger pieces into the larger yardage storage when I first got them, and I decided the other day to sort all of my ribbing, more fully integrating the new stuff with what I already had.

This quickly showed me that I now had enough rib knits to make a complete, if pastel, rainbow.

Well, what could I make from this combination?  I did a bunch of burn tests and confirmed that all of them were, if not fully synthetic, then at least still blends (except for the yellow—it sparked and flared like a sparkler, and dripped, showing that it's 100% nylon.)  That meant I didn't necessarily want it in direct contact with my underarm area, so...cardigan?

I got out Simplicity 8951, for once planning to go with its as-given ¾-length sleeves, since they're the same length as the cardigan body, which meant I wouldn't have to make any length adjustments to the stripes.

I cut the strips for the shoulder area much wider than everything else, because I wasn't sure how much area would be needed to cut the tops of the shoulders and sleeves, and I cut everything else in 3½" strips.  I sewed everything together with roughly 3/8" seam allowances, using straight stitch for the assembly and serging the seam allowances.  I cut the pattern pieces from those assembled strips, figuring that would be a lot less hassle than trying to cut each strip also in the proper shape before assembly.

I did refer back to the post about making the patchwork cardigan, and that reminded me to put a drop of FrayCheck on each seam end right after it was cut, to hold it together long enough to get sewn into a construction seam.

I had originally planned to cut the neckband, cuffs, and waistband from the pale pink, just because I had so much of it left.  Once I realized that I would be most likely to wear the cardigan with my black dresses, I changed the plan to cutting those bits from black.

I was also not super happy with how the seam allowances between the stripes were laying, so I considered top stitching through them to hold everything down.  But what color?

I had done the strip assembly and initial body construction in beige, but I didn't really want that visible.  Black top stitching would make sense, but I felt it would look rather underwhelming against all of the other colors.

So...what about adding black trims...? And a different one at every seam.

Sure, why not. 

After that, black buttons were only logical.

Seven Slapdash Sleep Shirts

For quite a while, I've been sleeping in thrifted T-shirts that had gotten too worn out in everyday use.  I'd thrift a shirt, wear it until it started developing holes or other signs of damage, and, if I didn't creatively repair them for continued dressing use, retire them to the pajama drawer.  However, since I drastically cut back how much I thrift, my T-shirt supply has dwindled, and the pajama shirts have started more or less disintegrating.

Not too long ago, someone I've known online for ages asked if I'd like some fabric—left over from her clothing sewing projects—that should be good for doll clothes, and I said Sure, Thanks!  The parcel arrived and the generous amount of knit cloth was indeed a good weight for doll clothes.  The quantity would have taken me years to sew through if limited only to doll use (and probably had a lot passed on to other doll sewing people—in fact, I just sent two huge boxes of doll appropriate fabric remnants off myself); however, a lot of the pieces were large enough to be able to use for ribbing in person-sized sewing projects, so I sorted out those bigger pieces and put them on the large yardage shelves, then crammed the rest into the small yardage knits drawer.

I realized a few days ago that I just might be able to solve the sleep shirt problem with the larger odds'n'ends of the gift knits.

And I did!

Groovy

A friend thrifted a big bold piece of PeterMax-inspired fabric, and later surprised me with it.

The selvedge says Peter Pan Fabrics, but, given that Peter Pan Fabrics was around from the 1940s to the early 2000s and pretty much never changed the way they put their name in their (unlicensed print) selvedges, I am genuinely unsure if the fabric really is from the late 1960s/early 1970s, or if it's from the late 1990s revival of that groovy era aesthetic.

Either way, it's vintage, right?

After receiving the surprise package containing this fabric, I pretty quickly thought it would be a lot of fun to make it into a button up dress shirt.

I did not so quickly get around to making it, but, now I have.

 

It could never have been anything but ridiculous.