Ever since I made my first 3D scarf for last week’s Makeover Monday, I’ve been wearing it almost every day. It’s the perfect light-yet-warm layer that goes on easily over everything. (I’m wearing it even as I type right now!) In fact, this surprisingly versatile piece has gotten so much use already that it inspired me to root through more than my scarf collection for makeover candidates. And lo! Lurking deep in a stack of seldom-worn hand-knitted sweaters, I found this:
Cardi-Wrap, pre-makeover. This is literally just a long, wide scarf with sleeves set into the rectangle.
On this new Makeover Monday, I present my Ode to a Scarf. I wear one scarf or another almost daily, almost year-round, so I have a lot of them: silk, wool, pashmina, mohair, cashmere, cotton, rayon; striped, solid, printed, jacquard; scarves I designed and hand-knitted for myself, gift scarves, thrift-store and hand-me-down scarves, even one upcycled from a skirt into a scarf.
Out of this motley but well-loved collection, there’s one scarf I love best: my hand-knitted brushed-wool entrelac scarf, in the most luscious combination of deep, dark brown and rosy, pink-y reds.
My favorite scarf ever, pre-makeover. All it needs is to be wearable.
Previously on Makeover Monday:A pair of too-short jeans gets a glam fix with the addition of deep hem bands in bronze-metallic-finished denim! But when I discovered I didn’t have enough of the contrast fabric to do a double-layer cuff, I got to thinking…
What if I added a different fabric to line the cuff? Then, in addition to the full-length look with the bronze bands, I could fold the cuffs up to capri length, showing the second fabric, and have a whole new look! I thought about the type of fabric for a minute; my first instinct (as usual) was to use something fabulous in sequins (I have lots of scraps under this heading), but I reflected that that might not feel too comfortable against my shins when I wear the jeans at full length. (Boo.) A quick rummage through my stash yielded this:
Fabric to line the bronze cuffs: The new fabric (on right) is printed to look like lace, and I think it’s a great complement to both the original denim and the bronze band.
I confess to a fashion crime… my narrow-leg jeans are just a tiny bit too short. Usually, with a narrower leg, I can get away with a “regular” length, meaning a 31-32″ inseam; with wider legs like boot-cuts, I’d have to go to a “tall” or “long” length (33-34″ inseam). These jeans seemed perfect at first, but after a solid 2 years of a lot of wearing and washing, they’ve gradually gotten a little shorter, to the point where I can only (barely) get away with wearing them with high heels; with flats, they’re maybe 3/4″ too short, at least to my eye. What to do, what to do…
When I was in the fabric store a few weeks ago (getting more dye for my other jeans’ makeover), this idea popped into my head: why not add a contrast band or cuff to the legs of my jeans to lengthen them?
In spite of a rather bewildering array of denim fabric choices, I couldn’t find the black denim I wanted, but I did find an intriguing piece with a bronze metallic finish on one side, very like the lacquered treatments so popular in denim right now. Here are my jeans in their sad “before” condition, and the fabric I found to cuff ’em:
“Before” jeans and bronze-finish denim for cuffs. (These are not the same jeans as the ones I dyed on previous Makeover Mondays, by the way. Now I’m starting to think my whole denim wardrobe is just sad…)
Last weekend, as part of my ongoing effort to expand my dance-class wardrobe, I made myself this stretchy little top:
My new top: my version of this one-color top, View B of Vogue 8856.
Perhaps this is not quite as newsworthy as my jeans’ recent visits to the CYC Day Spa, but there is at least one unique aspect to this project: I made it entirely out of fabric scraps.
Wouldn’t you know it: just when my jeans are getting used to seeing themselves in their new custom color after their first visit to the Changing Your Clothes Day Spa, today they’re back for Phase 2: a little trim! They’ve let me know they’re not ready for a drastic change, so I’ve promised not to cut more than an inch… from each side. Yes, that’s right, they’re going to go from a classic boot cut to straight legs!
The first step in this seemingly simple process is to analyze the current conditions, in order to make a plan; I’ve learned (the hard way) that having a strategy before making that first crucial snip is the key to a successful outcome.
Tip: I realized, only after my jeans’ dye job last week, that it would have been better to do the leg alterations before dyeing the jeans, because guess what? That antique-gold-colored thread used for the topstitching on the inseam and hem got dyed along with the jeans! So the topstitching thread that I bought for this specific purpose won’t match. However, since I’m planning to overdye the jeans with black, I’m hoping the difference in thread color will not be so noticeable by the time this makeover is complete.
Looking at the jeans, I notice that the inseam is topstitched, but the outseam is not.
Original seams: the inseam is topstitched, but the outseam is not.
I know you’ve all been breathlessly waiting to hear the results of my Practical vs. Extravagant question. Wait no longer! (For those of you who are breathlessly confused about what I’m talking about, you might want to read the post that started this great debate.) Here is my finished outfit:
My Extravagant outfit, all dressed up and hoping to dance! The skirt, with its glowing colors and asymmetrical hem (longer on the right side of this photo, shorter on the other side), is sexy without being inappropriate.
Last week, when I was trying to plan a special holiday outfit, toying with various pieces of fabrics and patterns, I found myself in a familiar place of indecision. I had put together a selection of more or less coordinated fabrics from my over-abundant stash: I started with a gorgeous sequinned fabric with cutouts and a fabulous pointy border, which I thought would be most appropriate for a skirt, but this would necessitate some sort of lining. I came up with a tie-dyed georgette which looked wonderful under the sequins, but which was semi-sheer, so I found a bright coral satin for the undermost layer of what was now a 3-layer skirt.
(Those of you with sharp eyes and memories may recognize this satin from my recent post about making a skirt from a custom-fitted muslin; the satin lines that skirt. Good thing I like this stuff— even after making this second skirt, I still have a lot left over!)
Finally, I added a coral stretch velvet to make a simple top (with all that going on in the skirt, the top really needs to be simple). Here are the four fabrics:
Fabrics for my dancing outfit: The sequinned beauty with the tie-dyed georgette underneath and showing through the cutouts in the sequinned piece, and the satin underneath both (you can see a little of this by itself in the lower right corner). In the upper left corner is the stretch velvet.
Last week I got an almost-last-minute invitation to a cocktail party, and decided it was the perfect time to make a skirt I’ve been thinking about for a while. I already had the fabric: pale grey wool bouclé with tiny clear sequins sewn all over it; I pictured this as the perfect pencil skirt, with a contrast lining that would just peek out from the off-center front slit.
Problem: I didn’t have a pattern for this mythical wonder-skirt, or at least not one that I trusted to fit me.
Since I was in a bit of a rush to get this skirt made, I didn’t photograph the entire process, but I’ll do my best to describe what I did.
First step: After creating my basic skirt design in GD, and plugging in my measurements, I generated a sewing pattern (the software calculates the pattern using my measurements) and printed it out. Obviously it wouldn’t all fit on a letter-sized page, so it automatically tiles the pattern into multiple pages, so all I had to do was tape them together; the patterns print out with handy guidelines to help align the pages properly. (You can see the pattern for the skirt back in the first photo, below). Continue reading →
The Tango Skirt. I spotted it languishing on an overcrowded rack in a consignment shop. It flirted shamelessly with me on the hanger, looking all cute and mysterious, and I just knew we would be going home together. I admit, I didn’t know anything about it, really, just that it was the dark, rich brown of the best espresso, in a soft, slinky fabric that was ruched and gathered at the back in an utterly beguiling manner. I didn’t even try it on, just handed over $18.00, and dashed out, clutching it to my heart. It was a magic moment.
Alas, poor Tango Skirt! The magic died when I pulled the skirt on at home. Yes, the ruched-and-fishtailed back was nearly as flattering as it had promised on the hanger, and I loved the way it swished around the backs of my calves. But the front! The front of the skirt, so plain, cut straight and drooping sadly below my knees, was not flattering at all. It was as if I had brought home two different skirts instead of one. Brokenhearted and embarrassed, I hung The Tango Skirt in a dark corner of my closet, where it stayed, unloved, for several months.
The Tango Skirt, pre-alteration. Looking at the plain-Jane front, you’d never guess such fabulousness could be lurking in back! (The pin in the front of the skirt marks the length of the lining, something that’s important to know before you start cutting anything! (Trust me.) Continue reading →
Changing Your Clothes 