Mod Mini Skirt Project: Blah Fabric

I love pop art. I love space age interior design. Mod clothing is the fashion equivalent. At it's boldest, mod fashion IS pop art. You need only look at the 60's fashions of an Andres Courreges or a Pierre Cardin to see this.

Some of Pierre Cardin's bold space age looks-- there is an exaggeration here that makes them even more wonderful, even if slightly tongue-in-cheek
(ABOVE)

Andres Courreges space age looks
(ABOVE)

So, as I progress with sewing, I hope to create projects that more fully incorporate my love of this aesthetic. I know I've already been doing it to an extent, but I would love to be even bolder with my projects. My hope is to create things you really and truly could never find in a store. As such, I want to incorporate more graphics and words into my projects Why? Because, it's fun, that's why! : - )

This is what I mean by bold graphics: mod as pop art exemplified here
(ABOVE)

And this is what I mean by bold words--
too bad you need three people to pull off this look!
(ABOVE)

And after I made this particular skirt project, I did start experimenting with applique. This has allowed me to venture into the words/graphics arena, and I'm having fun with that. More on that in future posts. A lot more on that in future posts!

With this first pop art inspired project, I took a modern day fabric and made a mod mini skirt. This particular fabric is very "pop art" despite not being created for that purpose at all. Why? Because pop art often incorporated bold graphics and/or words to make a statement. So, with the word "blah" on the fabric, we have a statement. It's how I feel about the times we live in. We are inundated with so much information. Eventually, it all starts sounding like one big "blah." Aren't you sick of all the talking heads out here? Opinions truly are like assholes.


Funny enough, this fabric was created based on the "catchphrase" of a Hallmark Cards character. I remember seeing this character ("Maxine") in their stores, but I never knew she had a catchphrase. Whatever the case, I certainly don't think the character can claim a monopoly on the word "blah", and I doubt many people would associate the fabric with that character. So, I didn't worry about those associations.


Now, I know I said I'd never use 100% cotton quilter's fabric again. I lied.


I just couldn't resist this fabric. And, here's the thing-- I KNEW what I was getting into when I bought it. What ticked me off last time was that I thought I was getting a poly/cotton blend and instead got quilter fabric. So, I guess the lesson is-- I can deal with it, if I know what to expect.

So, more pop art inspired projects to come! And some regular ole mod stuff too.

Happy sewing,
Astrid

Simplicity 7587 aka Astrid Needs Colorblocking Rebab & Has a Mystery Neck

Prepping the circa 1968 pattern- easy but time consuming

(above)

Here I am doing black and white colorblocking again. I feel about colorblocking how Lindsay Lohan feels about cocaine. Okay, fine, she probably likes blow a little better, but who can compete with that romance?

The process of making this dress was pretty uneventful. I had a few snafus, but overall, my hair remained firmly rooted in my scalp. It wasn't without one tantrum, however. This came when I got to the side seams.

I love to tailor, but I've been trying to scale back just a tad. I want my dresses to drape a little better, while at the same time, being nicely tailored to my body. I always use machine-basting to test my tailoring, because although I love Mr. Seam Ripper, I'd rather rip out long stitches over small any day (duh, right?). So, I tailored this black and white number, and it was way too loose. I asked my husband, who agreed. So, I drew a line with my tailor chalk and went in. It didn't seem like a lot. But it must have been a lot (you'll see later).

After basting this second time, I tried the dress on. My husband thought I tailored it a little too tight, because he noticed the dress was rippling a tad at the center seam. I didn't listen. After all, I'd had some pulling with stretchy knits like this before (ponte roma polyester again, by the way). It was just the nature the fabric.

So, I went in and finished off the seams. I cut them. I pinked them close to the seam line. I put the dress on to admire my handiwork. Wasn't I awesome? No, I wasn't. Because, it wasn't the nature of the fabric. It was the nature of the Astrid. It was the nature of me being impatient. And it was that stupid overconfidence sickness all over again.

Before cutting-- the tailoring looked worse when it was longer
(above)

My husband pointed out the rippling again. I defended the tailoring. But just like parents defending an ugly baby, I knew I was lying to myself. My baby might not have been ugly. But it did have this wart. Maybe just a tiny one but a wart nonetheless. Oh well, I still really like the dress and will wear it proudly. While I did tailor it a tad too much, it doesn't feel very tight when it's on me. I can breathe. That's important.

My buddy & me
(above)

I did try one "last ditch effort" to fix this snafu. I tried to rip out the side seams and sew a little closer to the pinked edges. It didn't work that well, because there wasn't much fabric to let out the dress. It helped a little (I think).

"Hey, if I place my arm a certain way, no will notice the ripples right?"
(above)

I hemmed the dress shorter than the pattern and struggled a tad, as I did with the orange dress. Finally, I had to accept my imperfect hem for what it was. I would have tried the great techniques that were recommended to me in the orange dress comments (I.e. rolled hem, bias tape hem, etc). However, I actually completed this black and white dress before I posted the pictures of the orange dress. I would time travel, but it seems like too much work, and I might accidentally step on an ant or something.

One other aspect of the dress presented problems: the collar. I handled this problem with relative ease, though, so I don’t consider it much of a snafu. It just required some adjusting, because that thing was WAY too tall for my neck. In fact, I had to unbaste it from the neck edge, dismantle it, cut it down by about 60%, and then sew it over again. It worked with these adjustments, though, so I was a happy camper.

Me doing my best turtle impersonation

(above)

Actually happy--yep, for real
(above)

So, here's the thing: I have a pretty small skull. My heritage is mostly Norwegian, and I read that it's pretty common for Nordic people to have smaller skulls than most people. I can even wear kids' size eyeglasses, which is kinda cool. What I am wondering, though, is whether my small skull is accompanied by a short neck? My neck doesn't look short with my small head, but could it be shorter than most people's necks? Then again, one could always have a really small head on a really long neck...okay, time to shut up. I'm weird; I know.

Another theory: they probably have to make pattern pieces to work for the largest possible size that would be using the particular pattern size. Because, while I can size pieces down, someone with a longer neck would be left with a short piece of fabric that didn't fit her neck. This would then require her to make a new piece over again with a larger piece of fabric. And that ain't cool. I'd be mighty ticked off if I followed a pattern only to have to do that.


Anyway, I have two new dresses already sewn as I write this blog, so more to come very soon!

Happy sewing adventures!
Astrid