Three times a bridesmaid

She's only just three, and already the small girl is on her third run of bridesmaid duties. I'm hoping that the old wives' tale doesn't hold true for her. Just in case it does, at least this time she'll have had a shot at walking down an aisle wearing a white dress.

She's wearing it with a little cardie and sparkly white shoes from her last outing as bridesmaid to her godfather, and is over the moon because we're spending the night in a real live castle, like real live princesses.

This silk was quite possibly the must frustrating fabric I have ever worked with. It was a challenge to get it sewn up before the whole thing unraveled, and I can't see it holding up particularly well in terms of washing, but its pretty and it only has to survive a day, so fingers crossed, hey? Also, I have learnt a valuable lesson: when sewing a white dress and wearing red lipstick, it is not advisable to bite off threads with your teeth.

Freshly picked pinny

We had a bit of an idyllic afternoon yesterday, the small girl and I. I spent an hour running up this dress, from a great tutorial over at Freshly Picked, and contrary to all precedent or character Ruby spurned Beebies in favour of watching me. "I love watching you sew, mummy," she said, heart-meltingly, whilst proceeding to observe me, chin resting on her hands, head to one side, for a full ten minutes, before getting bored and wandering off to get some crayons and sticky things.

This sweetness was only very slightly marred by the forty-minute screaming session that followed as a result of my tying a bow the wrong way. I'm willing to overlook it though, and store the little watcher in the memory banks instead.

Time travel, courtesy of some strawberries

I went back in time today. Approximately twenty years back as it happens, transported there by row upon row of warm, dusty red berries, nesting in straw. Who would have thought that a pick-your-own garden centre could have such a visceral effect, but there I was again, not much bigger than Ruby, with strawberry juice dripping down my chin and the sun on my back. I couldn't stop picking them.

And the peas, my other favourite things. Just to push me a little further down memory lane, Ruby and I spent a happy half hour shelling them into a sieve, eating half of them raw along the way. From field to plate in under an hour. Beat that, Captain Birdseye. It doesn't get much better.

In other news, the makeup bags have been at it again, breeding like rabbits. Honestly, they wouldn't be out of place on the Jeremy Kyle show.

In the oilcloth family way

Remember the oilcloth purse tutorial? Well, I made the mistake of not checking the sex of that first pair, and it seems that I inadvertently ended up with a boy and a girl. At least that is the only explanation I can think of, since the two of them have quite clearly been breeding. The dirty little buggers.

They have produced no fewer than four offspring. If that doesn't show a lack of self-control I don't know what does.

Like their parents, the babies are made from oilcloth with a shiny silver lamé lining, but their outer skin is a pretty Cath Kidston-esque floral which, frankly, has me doubting the paternity. And I don't know what they are feeding little oilcloth babies these days, but this lot are big. One of them could even be called obese. I blame school dinners.

We love them all the same though. Here they are, all together, the whole happy little family.

Le Quilt (aka. The Father's Day Project of Epic Proportions)

So, said the cat in the hat. So, so, so...

As promised, here are some pictures (as modeled by the small girl, who can never resist a camera lens anywhere in the vicinity) of the quilt I made for my beloved Baba for father's day, the secret project that has taken up so much of my time lately. You see, I wasn't making it up, I really was busy.

I made it using the Folk Dance Quilt pattern by Anna Maria Horner, and I love the geometric-ness of it. As a virgin quilter, it was a daunting project, but manageable. Very much a case of one step at a time.

It was machine stitched, hand quilted, and is made from 100% natural fibres. The middle of the quilt sandwich (anyone who knows the proper term for this, do please let me know - I have no knowledge in this area whatsoever) is a lightweight bamboo batting, machine washable, tumble-dryable, and perfect for snuggling up on mild summer evenings.

And so, 234 pieces, 13 yards of fabric, 60 hours of sewing, and thousands upon thousands of loving stitches later - the result is one very heartfelt gift, for one very special man.

And this is the man himself. Happy father's day, Baba. I love you xx

Late night whimsy

So, here I am again. Silly o'clock and no sleep to be had.

But I have made a little something, which is, well, something.

It's uncharacteristically pink for me, and very girly, and yet I kind of love it. I more than love the fabric, with its fanciful print, and I love the red heart buttons that clash a bit, in just the right sort of way. I think I dodged twee by an inch or so.

I'm not sure how much wear this will get, as it really goes with nothing the girl owns, but when I saw the fabric I knew I couldn't not make it. Oh, if only she had some red patent Mary-Janes. How good would that look? Or would that be overkill? Might have to settle for Converse high-tops for now, although I kind of like the incongruence of that too.

Quiet now, brain. Hush.

In the immortal words of Take That... (Or: Anyone can learn to sew)

... "We've come so far."

Every time Ruby stays over at my parents' she comes back with something or other that she has begged, borrowed or stolen. Last week she came back with a little pink dress she had found hanging on a forgotten hook somewhere, the first thing I ever sewed for her.

It wasn't that long ago, maybe two years, but I'd kind of forgotten about it. I'd forgotten that when I started out I really didn't know how to sew. I just knew that I wanted to. Obviously the girl has grown in the interim so you'll have to forgive the fact that she looks like an extra from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, but whatever allowances you make for that you will surely wince, nonetheless, to see the flaws in the shaping, the way the upper bodice gapes while the lower bodice barely makes it across her belly...

... the, um, generous armscye and the poorly finished seams.

The wonky stitching...

... the seams that didn't quite stand the test of time ...

... and the raw edges ...

... raw edges everywhere you look.

It made me really happy to see how for I've come in what seems now to be quite a short time. I've learned everything I know from sewing blogs, tutorials and books, from my marvelous mum, and from good old-fashioned trial and error. When I started I couldn't sew a buttonhole; I didn't know how to set in a sleeve. I had never sewn elastic, never used bias binding, never sewn a rolled hem or a french seam. Back then I didn't know what a placket was, let alone how to sew one. If something got ripped, or stained, or outgrown, it went to the charity shop, or in the bin. Now when Ruby outgrows a dress, I make it into a skirt. When my jeans don't fit properly, I alter them. I couldn't find a dress I liked enough to wear to my friends' wedding next weekend, so I am going to make one instead.

Two years ago I was no better at sewing than when I walked out of my last needlework class aged eleven. Now I feel as though I've always sewn. There is so much that I still want to learn, I'm standing right at the foot of the mountain, but it's not intimidating any more. I don't look at something I want to make and decide against it because I don't know how to sew in the zip, or what to do with the interfacing, or because I don't like the sleeves quite like that. Not any more. Now I look at something and work out how achieve what I want to achieve. I know that few things are as hard as they look.

So, that was the first dress I made for Ruby, which was only ever worn once or twice, which never really survived the wash, but which, like everything else I make her, was stitched so lovingly, with so much care. It was my prototype.

My other prototype turned three yesterday, but this one can't be improved upon. She's perfect just the way she is.

Insomnia-induced creativity

If jet lag is the mother of industry, then insomnia must, at the very least, be a distant cousin of productivity. I have forgotten how to sleep. My body seems to have forgotten it needs sleep. Actually, that's not strictly true. When I do sleep, I sleep really deeply and really well, but I am down to about five or six hours a night – four and a half last night – and I am a big fan of sleeping. I love to sleep. Until I had the small one, I was a nine or ten hours a night girl.

So, while I am not necessarily thrilled about this state of affairs, it is true that fewer sleeping hours mean I have inadvertently got my wish for more hours in a day – more waking hours at least – and I have been making and doing and fixing and... did I mention making?

I have very nearly gotten my act together and finished Ruby's room. I have finally screwed the dimmer switch, which I wired in over a year ago, to its back box. I have put up the roman blind I made for Ruby's room, with my very own drill. Yes, all right, it's pink, but it's still a power tool, okay? I am woman, hear me drill things! Rah.

I have bought and bravely ridden a bike, with my precious spawn on the back, on actual roads. This clearly was not done at night, so doesn't strictly qualify to be included here, but it is kind of a big deal for me, seeing as how I haven't ridden a bike in well over a decade. It was the shame and lasting trauma of failing my cycling proficiency that did it, you see.... So I am somewhat proud of my newfound roadworthiness, and thought I'd just squeeze it in there.

Sewing-wise, I have done loads (and thrown away a fair proportion of it on account of it being embarrassingly badly sewn tat, which perhaps goes to show that insomnia is not all good – but let's not dwell on that). Success stories include a shirt-to-dress refashion using this tutorial (I'll stick a piccie up when the girl is not asleep in such close proximity to said dress), a few nighties, since the girl, for no obvious reason, has renounced pyjamas, and a nice little bunch of summer dresses and tops, all from half yards I have been collecting.

This is my pick of the bunch:

A sweet little smock top made using Anna Maria Horner flannel;

A stripy pinafore dress....

.... with a cute appliqué on the back (which, because I quite like how the heart-on-the-bum-look turned out, we are going to pretend was not accidental);

And Ruby's election night dress, a lovely soft peasanty tunic, based on this tutorial, completed at about three o'clock in the morning when the reds and the blues were neck and neck, and I gave in and went to bed.

There's also a really awesome skirt, which happens to be in the wash, but you get the point. I think I have made more in the last week than I have in the last month put together. I have also learnt that lining and reinforcing things, while taking a little more time, makes oh-so-much of a difference to the end result. So, in conclusion, as much as I am wary as to what the long term consequences of sleep deprivation may be, as long as I can keep up this kind of productivity I am not going to complain. For now at least.

This tute will change your life.

It's not my tute. I wish it were though. It's Susan's over at Freshly Picked, but it really will change your life.

It made my jeans stop looking like this....

...and start looking like this!

They are my favourite jeans ever, but the waist was just way too big. The pictures aren't great (have you ever tried taking pictures of your own backside? No? Give it a go some time - hours of fun) but you get the idea. And now... no more hoiking them up all day, and, even better, no more builders bum! See how the two little brass studs are closer together in the second picture? That's what we're doing here.

So, I urge you to go forth and alter. Everyone has at least one pair of almost perfect jeans somewhere. See, I told you it would change your life.

In other news, would you check out this booty (as opposed to the booty above, haha... oh, I amuse myself). My dad cleared out his wardrobe and I got these shirts. I already have plans for at least some of these, such as this and this. Now, go on, say Oooooooh...

I am, not for the first time, exceedingly grateful to have a father who never, ever, wears a boring shirt.

Sewing porn

I don't have anything particularly wonderful to show off today, but I didn't want you all to think I'd been sitting around doing nothing. Oh, no. What I have been doing is perusing these nuggets of glory, given to me by my friend's lovely mum.

These books are the real deal, like yo mama used to use. It doesn't get much better. We have 'Basic Tailoring', 'The Professional Look' and, my favourite, 'Exotic Styling'. They were (more than) a little over my head when she gave them to me last summer, but now that I am getting to grips with what they are on about – despite not feeling entirely confident about being able to do what they are telling me to do just yet – I am lapping them up like a starved kitten. Yup. They are full of magnificent pictures like these...

...but even better they are packed with illustrated instructions on pretty much any formerly mysterious element of sewing you could imagine. All of which make my placket smugness look a little silly. But, man, I'm excited about all this learning. Now, if they'd just taught stuff like this in school I might have payed attention. I hope to god I'm not breaching someone's copyright by putting pictures up, but I get the impression these babies have been out of print for a while now, so I'm hoping that makes it okay.

In other news, I am working on a summer cardie for the small girl in Rowan's Kidsilk Haze on four – count them, four – double point needles. It's a while since I knitted, but I found this pattern for a cardigan that is knit all in one piece, allowing me to avoid my least favourite part of knitting (the sewing part – oh, glorious irony) and I couldn't resist giving it a go.

And in other other news, I have been taking my wardrobe apart (literally, with scissors and a stitch ripper) and refashioning things that the old me would have chucked out, experimenting with ruffles, darts and elastic. A lot of these alterations are proving to be less than successful, but, like I said, these things would have ended up in the bin anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I am also covetously eyeing a hemming foot and trying to persuade myself that it is a justifiable purchase.

All in all, there's a nauseating level of personal growth and improvement floating about. Anyone want to start a sweepstake on how long it takes before I crack beneath the pressure and go on an H&M binge?

Jet lag: the mother of industry

I was up until nearly 5am last night. I completely buggered up the sleep management side of things by having a power nap at 6pm which lasted for, ahem, five hours, hence – abracadabra! – wide awake in the wee small hours. So, with the small one (equally strung out) sitting catatonically in front of Charlie and Lola, I did the obvious thing, sidestepped the six months' worth of luggage staring at me begging to be unpacked, and decided instead to reunite myself with my fabric stash. Two hot cross buns, four cups of tea and a lot of folding and sorting later, I was the proud mama of this little bundle of glory...

But that is not all – oh no – that is not all.

Check out this lot. I didn't know it was possible to be this frickin' excited about buttons, thread and elastic (fold over elastic, no less), but I have been seriously roughing it in haberdashery terms for quite some time now, so forgive me while I go "Ooh, ooh, oooooh!"

One more for luck? Go on, say it with me: "Ooooooooh, scissors..."

Not to mention the bias tape maker. Hell yeah. No more fiddling with hair straighteners for me.

Not satisfied with sorting alone, not anywhere near sleepy, and evidently not willing even to contemplate unpacking things – shame on you for suggesting it – I decided to revamp Ruby's manky old doll's pram. Well, what else is one supposed do at three in the morning when the melatonin that was purchased with such forethought was left safely tucked away in the bread bin on the wrong side of the Atlantic?

I forgot to take the before pictures, so this is the point where you have to imagine the old blue hood with holes and scrapes and stains, and then marvel appropriately at the spanky new deckchair-striped hood and mattress.....

..... complete with matching pillow and duvet.

And, just to top things off, I snuck onto Amazon and very self-indulgently ordered myself a rotary cutter and mat before gathering up my girlie and sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted. Happy days.

Sewing for the frugal, via Indietutes

It has come to my attention lately that, as much as I like to pretend that sewing Ruby's clothes myself is a good way to save money, there are certain pitfalls that can make it seriously costly. You find yourself a sewing machine in the street and you think "Ooh, marvelous. Now it won't cost me a thing to make the small one's clothes. Just think of all the money I'll save!" But the fact is that it can be a bloody expensive 'hobby'.

Of course, there are many, many other reasons why I make clothes for Ruby. I think it helps to discourage the disposable attitude that is so easy to develop when you can buy ready-made clothes for a handful of pennies, that can (and has, to my shame) lead to just throwing away things that have developed a little hole or acquired an unshiftable stain. There are the obvious ethical issues involved in buying clothes with a price tag that implies seriously unfair trade in their affordable little pasts. There is doing it for the love of it, because I get to see my baby wearing something that has been made with thought and time and love. I have lots of reasons for making Ruby's clothes, which you can read about here, but that doesn't change the fact that unless you are very careful, you can end up costing yourself a lot of money, whilst at the same time sort of losing sight of why you are doing it in the first place.

And then I found this nugget of wondrousness, the most inspirational and motivational list of ways to keep sewing frugal and stick to the mission plan, and Vegbee over at Indietutes has very kindly allowed me to reproduce some of my favourite suggestions here. So these are my top ten picks from a very long list of truly great ideas, and once you are done reading these, I suggest you go over there and peruse the whole lot.

1. Organise your stash. Until you know exactly what you have, you will find that you keep repeating yourself. You can tell yourself otherwise as many times as you like, but there is such a thing as too many Liberty florals.

2. Keep track of discount days at local fabric stores and shop with a list (or, in Vegbee's wise words, a small child, because nothing will convince you to get what you need and get out like trying to control a 3-year-old in a fabric store).

3. When buying new, cheap fabric doesn't always mean a deal. Some cotton prints and flannels are always priced cheap because their quality is poor. You do not save money (or feel good) if your hand-made garments look faded and tear after just a few washes. If you are spending good money, make sure it is on quality material.

4. Search your local freecycle network and put the word out amongst your neighbours that you will take away the extras from other sewers' stashes. If you have just done #1 and you have some things going begging, you might be able to negotiate a trade-off. Most people looking to downsize their stash will be happy to give it to someone who will appreciate the fabric and use it well.

5. Thrift stores and yard sales are great resources, not only for fabrics. You can often pick up large grab bags of notions for a dollar or two, but steer clear of vintage thread – it dries out and snaps. If buying buttons make sure there are enough matching buttons to finish a garment.

6. Reconstructed garments are the ultimate in thrift and creativity, especially if you revamp your own wardrobe using what you've already got. I try to do as much of this as I can, and it's one great way that I can make things for myself as I am not quite brave enough yet to make adult clothes from scratch, but I can sure as hell restyle a badly fitting dress, or turn an old sweater into a skirt.

7. Check out sewing books at your local library. Most libraries will stock several older books full of general knowledge (which will cost a mint to buy new) as well as some of the new hip books on reconning that sell for 20 smackers or more in the bookstore. Also, and this is too obvious, the internet is an amazing source for free tutes and patterns. But you know this. As an aside, I have a set of books in the UK given to me by my best friend's mum, from which she learn everything she needed to know to make all my friend's clothes when she was little. They were a bit over my head when she first gave them to me, but now I cannot wait to get home and get stuck into them.

8. Keep your machine in good shape by cleaning and oiling frequently. Don't bother to use canned air to blow out the lint from your machine – a set of inexpensive make up brushes work just as well, can be used for years and are a fraction of the cost. Better maintenance means fewer service bills.

9. Don't get sucked in by all the 'essential' products sold as sewers' aids. Buy what is helpful and then make use of what you already have at home. For example, used dryer sheets are a great stabilizer for embellishments, appliqués can mostly be held in place with pins to avoid the need for bonding papers. Old sewing books (see #7) are full of great inexpensive techniques from an era that had never hear of liquid anti-fray agents.

10. Keep the original motivation and intention in mind. Remember that sewing skills were, once upon a time, used to save money and reduce waste. The darning of socks, patching of holes, mending of rips, and clever placing of appliqués can all save stained or worn clothes from the bin – and if you can't save them in their original incarnation, then try to work out how you else you can use them.

There are loads more ideas and suggestions over at Indietutes, so make sure you take yourself over there and have a look. I'd love to hear any other tips and tricks too, so leave a comment and share your wisdom. Thanks to Vegbee for such an inspiring post!

Sweater to skirt in 30 minutes.

I'm going to make a disclaimer of sorts now, and say I have no idea how robust this design is – my sweater says hand wash only so that is what I will do – but if you have a sweater that is on its way to the sweater cemetery then you can't possibly have anything to lose.

I found this particular beauty for $4 in an east village thrift store, so I didn't have an enormous amount at stake. I'm not suggesting they all need to be quite this garish. You need to start with a sweater that fits comfortably around your hips. It also needs to be long enough from underarms to hem for you to be comfortable wearing it as a skirt. You can cut it shorter but not longer. You will also need a length of wide elastic, 1-2" shorter than your waist measurement.

Take the length of elastic you cut and sew a seam with the right sides together, to make what will become your waistband.

Open out the band you just made, and use a zigzag stitch to secure the raw edges. This will avoid any scratchiness on the waistband.

With the sweater the right side out and the waistband the wrong side out (so right sides facing), insert the bulk of the sweater inside the waistband, up under the arms. You will be sewing along the upper edge of the elastic.

Stretch out the elastic and pin in place at intervals around the sweater so that the stretch is even.

Zigzag stitch around the waistband, stretching it out as you go to ensure it is spread evenly around the sweater. If you are very brave and experienced you can cut the skirt first, but do so at you peril. I was such a scaredy puss that I zigzagged twice around the waistband before daring to cut.

When you are feeling secure enough in your stitching, you can cut the top part of the sweater off, following the line of the elastic. Rest assured that in the fullness of time I will think of something worthwhile to do with the upper body of your sweater.

Turn it back on itself and, voila, you have a skirt. Send me pictures of your own sweater-skirts and I'll stick them up here. Enjoy! xx

Summer tunic with placket tutorial

So, I was going to do a tutorial for the top with the puff sleeves I made earlier in the week, but I decided to keep things a bit simple for now. This is a tutorial for a simple sleeveless tunic top with a placket, and once you have got the shape down, you can use it for more or less anything, and I will add separate tutes for puff sleeves and bells and whistles later. I based the placket on this tutorial from Made by Rae. I would suggest popping over there and looking through hers as well just to get a really clear idea of what you are doing before you begin.

If there's anything that is confusing please let me know so I can change it. It's long, with several thousand pictures, but surprisingly simple, so bear with it and thou shalt be rewarded.

You will need to pin down your victim and procure the following measurements, in inches:

- Chest, all the way around, as opposed to just across the chest;

- The length you want it to be, from shoulder to hem (mine is 16");

- Measurement around the upper arm;

- Shoulder width.

You will see that the lengths on the diagram below are marked as letters, so you should be able to make this fit your own child easily by doing a few simple sums.

C = your chest measurement divided by 4, plus 1"

L = your desired length (no sums required here!)

A = your full upper arm circumference, divided by 5 and multiplied by 4, to the nearest half inch

S = your shoulder width, minus 1", divided by two

H = C plus 1.5"

It pleases me greatly that these letters spell the word CLASH.

Cut out two pieces as below, rounding off the bottom edge as shown so that it is an inch or so higher at outside edge. Use a top you like as a guide for the neckline. You can either cut both the same, or choose to cut it higher on the back piece. Note that this pattern does not include seam allowances. For this particular project you will need to allow for seams at the shoulders, the sides, and the hem at the bottom, but the neckline and armholes will be finished with bias binding so there is no need for extra allowance here.

Using a contrasting fabric, cut two pieces for the band at the bottom of the tunic, indicated by the dashed line in the diagram. Mine was about 4" wide.

Using the same contrast fabric, you also need to cut a rectangle, 5.5" by 8", for your placket, and you will need to make enough double folded bias binding to finish your armholes and neckline (I needed about 40"). Make yourself a long piece of bias tape using these instructions, and follow the instructions for the straps on my summer dress for the folding.

Now you've got all your pieces you're ready to roll, so here goes.....

1) With the wrong side of your rectangle facing you, fold in and press 1/4" around the sides and bottom, and press in four creases, giving you five 1.5" sections.

2) Line up the centre of the rectangle with the centre of your front piece, and pin it in place, right sides together.

3) Following the creases you made, stitch around three sides of the middle section of the placket, leaving the top open.

4) Cut down the centre of the middle section, through both layers of fabric (terrifying, I know) and into the bottom left corner, as close as you can get to the seam without snipping through your stitches. Clip the bottom edge at the corners of the section you just stitched.

5) Fold and press the left flap across the centre to the right...

...and all the way round on itself so that it encases the raw edge where you just cut.

6) Pin and topstitch the edges.

7) Repeat stages 5 and 6 for the other side, only this time the bottom of the centre section needs to be stitched inside as well. You will end up with two placket pieces, one of which is attached at the bottom and side, and one which is sort of flapping about.

8) Pin one placket piece on top of the other (pick whichever one looks best) and stitch in place. Then give yourself a clap - you just made a placket! Isn't it pretty?

9) Join your front and back pieces at the shoulders and the sides, finishing the seams however you prefer. Stitch the ends of the two contrast strips together to make wide band, but do not finish the seams. Press them open instead to reduce bulk. They won't be visible when you're done.

10) With both pieces inside out, insert the main piece inside the contrast band, so the right side of the band is facing the wrong side of the main piece. Pin in place, and stitch all the way round the bottom edge.

11) Turn the top the right side out, and turn the contrast band back on itself so it's on the outside. Press and topstitch in place.

12) Turn the top edge of the contrast piece under. Press, pin and topstitch in place.

13) Sew the bias binding in place around the armholes and the neck.

14) Sew yourself a buttonhole on the top piece of your placket and stitch your button onto the underneath piece (noting how frickin' cool my cheshire cat button is as you do so)....

... and you're done!

Well done you.