the Celine summer neckline from Burda's May issue

The floral trousers are coming along, but I've gained weight since the last use of this Burda pattern, so they need altering along some seams. But they're surprisingly cheerful and not too ludicrous after all.

Another "Separated at Birth" item:

The pink blouse below is from Burda's May issue and the catwalk shirt in champagne silk is from Celine in Paris for summer 2013.

 So if you sew it yourself, you save a gazillion dollars and you can opt for sleeves to boot!

Floral Trousers

Normally I avoid fads that are so faddish, I assume they'll be "out," before my needle is "in." Flowered trousers for the summer of 2013 might be one of those items. One minute, you've got to have them poolside—and the next, you wouldn't get caught dead in them. Timing might be crucial here.

Apparently this last designer hasn't seen that particular illustration in every issue of Burda Facile/Easy where the "wrong layout" mismatching the flowers on the skirt is a big no-no.

Well, count me in, although I may live to regret this. My husband is taking me to Russia in June and I don't know anybody in Russia who gives a hoot what I wear. 

And so that my wallet keeps smiling, my budget for this one-season fad is about ten bucks, max. I found my floral in the IKEA fabric department for nothing, (it's a bit chintzy in every sense of the word) and although I'm having a doozy of a time keeping those florals as neat as number 1 in the first picture, I'll hold my fashionable head up in these ridiculous trousers for, say, the six weeks this fashion lasts. I'll wear them under a khaki Swiss Army jacket on top for daytime sightseeing. That baby cost Sf 5 at Army surplus, bringing the cost of this outfit so far to...Sf15?

Hey-ho for sewing! Not everything has to be tasteful or couture, right? I recall the 1961 summer my father moved us to Hollywood. My poor mother, intimidated by all the gorgeous showbusiness women he'd be working with all day, promptly went out and bought herself a pair of leopard print slacks. We kids were stunned. Michigan Mom went shopping and Gina Lollobrigida came home. I never stopped loving her for that bid for instant glamour.

I'm reusing a simple Burda trousers pattern, 108B-8-2010, skipping the back pocket flaps and the ankle zippers. Last time I lengthened the pattern by four centimeters but we'll see what shoes we need for these before the final hemming. I don't want to crisscross Red Square or The Hermitage in stilettos or platforms.

Backstage at The Great British Sewing Bee (the consultant's insider tips, including the patterns chosen and some background guides on the technical challenges)

I was thrilled to stumble across a blog written by the sewing consultant to The Great British Sewing Bee, giving us all the references for the challenges they're putting to their victims contestants. It confirms many bloggers' guesses about which patterns were picked and where the fabrics came from. Lots of fun! Read on:

Episode One: The Thrifty Stitcher backstage at the Great British Sewing Bee

Episode Two: The Thrifty Stitcher backstage at The Great British Sewing Bee

The Great British Sewing Bee (episode two)

I got hooked watching the Great British Sewing Bee after seeing the first episode on YouTube linked here: Episode One, and last night, via my Swiss computer hookup, I caught the second episode. (If you're in the UK, you can watch that here on the IPlayer here: Episode Two.)

After forty-seven years of happy home-sewing, (yeah, sorry about that) I still found myself asking, could I do what those sewers are trying?

Because as the most experienced of their contestants, the charming gray-haired Ann, points out, one is used to having time to do everything right, or at least to rip it out, like the much younger Scot Lauren (pictured below) often finds herself doing.  But here, two rather fiendish judges say there's only one hour to put on patch pockets or three hours, say, to adapt a neckline on a purchased blouse.

Their rather snotty and rueful pseudo-sympathies are enabled by the host of the show, one Claudia Winkleman who, I suspect, has never, never, darling, worn a hand-sewn garment in her entire be-fringed life. (Are you under those bangs, Claudia, and what the hell was that joke about Tom Cruise from "Cocktail" all about? Don't you realize these people are fighting the clock while you swan around making idiot jokes? These people are armed with scissors!)

So, while I applaud the show for giving us impassioned sewists of all walks of life, and I applaud the winners and losers for their sportsmanship and game faces when confronted with the nicky-picky judging, I condemn the show for missing the whole point of home sewing:

SEWING IS ONLY RELAXING AND REWARDING AND PROFITABLE WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME AND PEACE TO DO IT RIGHT! (yes, I'm shouting, lean back from your computer to avoid the full force of my indignation at the idea of making sewing a "bake-off.")

What would I have done? Oh, I'm so glad you asked, BBC2.

I would have given each of the contestants the challenge of making one demanding Vogue Designer pattern for man or woman, one costume, one Burda high-fashion quickie, one home dec project, one self-designed pattern, and one children's item and maybe more? Slow them down a little and lets see some ensembles emerge to highlight the possibilities of individual style. Let their skills develop over time, rather than do them in under the pressure of the clock. This road leads inevitably to a victory for the home ec teacher, Ann. Instead, let these projects develop over a season, stop eliminating people, and let us love their different sewing styles and root for them until the season's grand judging at the end.

Every time they eliminate a contestant, starting with the vibrant, gracious (only) black lady on the show, they narrow their viewing audience. That's dumb. No! Let the London bookies take our bets for months on end.

Stretching the contestants' chances over a whole season would have let Mark do both a costume in his style, with the needed time, and a pattern for men devised by himself. Stewart could let fly with his fabulous quilted pillows or drapes or amusing little boys' clothes. The odds would have been soaring as we watched Tilly do an original Alexander McQueen knock-off!

But no, it's all about the neatness of invisible zippers. It's all about the "excitement" of seeing people axed, like sewing was some Donald Trump, "you're fired" moment. These producers so don't get sewing. It's inclusive, supportive, generous in spirit and all about broadening rather than narrowing options, about exploring rather than judging.

The sorriest event so far is the (spoiler alert) elimination of the studded, pierced and roughly handsome Mark who specialized in eighteenth century costumes for his steampunk festivals. Did you see the photo of him in full rig? Didn't he look happy and proud in his homemade kit? Did you see the work he did on the row of buttonholes lining the front of his piratical jacket?

No. What do the producers do? Give him a handful of challenges, at least two featuring invisible zippers, when he's never had to do a zipper in his life! Or a flyfront! He's been doing buttoned flies from the historical past. Give the guy a handicap, for God's sake. Haven't you ever been to a horserace?

The next sorriest event so far is the (spoiler alert) elimination of Tilly, who had by far the most fashion sense of anybody in the room and was caught out first by trying to fit a black Chanel collar on the white blouse instead of the winning tacky ribbon stitched on by Ann, and second, for being the only contestant to be trying to fit her own pattern design onto a busty live model who looked nothing like the slim Tilly in size or shape. This meant that while all the other contestants were cutting commercial patterns to the size of their live models, Tilly had to REDESIGN AN ORIGINAL PATTERN. Doesn't she get mega-points for that?

The elimination of Michelle was a bit awkward, but her wrap dress was a disaster, I admit.

Bravo, Tilly! Bravo Mark! You're my winners for your originality and pep! It looks already like the winning ladies will be the least adventurous in fashion sense and the most reliable at putting in zippers. They will give home-sewing no fresh reputation, and just reinforce the idea that it's best left to aunties in hairsprayed helmets, armed with ruffles and rickrack.

SNNNNNNNOOOOOOORRRREEE.

Missing in Action! The Dead Sewing Blogs

Many people are ending 2012 by awarding well-deserved blogger awards to sewists who brighten our days with their creations and comments.

But I'm starting the Chinese New Year of the Snake with a sneaky shout-out to missing friends of the Dead Sewing Blogs. Are they shedding their skins for a new incarnation? Can we look forward to seeing them rise again?

It came to my mind when I realized that most of my favorites bloggers don't list links to me, boohoo! and woops! my own blog list is a little out of date and ??? where had some of my favorite bloggers gone?

Obviously, some of them were sucked into that happy void known as new motherhood. Here I count ladies I really looked to for some nice craftmanship and creativity. Lost...lost...somewhere in their designer nurseries are:

http://www.assortednotions.com/
http://kittycouture.blogspot.ch/
http://tanysewsandknits.blogspot.ch/
http://laurasewingroom.blogspot.ch/

But how to explain some of the others (apart from Lindsay T at http://www.lindsaytsews.com/, who signed off with tremendous elegance and clarity,) just vanished into a frozen cyberzone of dresses from 2010 or 2011?

Like the disappearance of Birgitte at http://bubblegum4breakfast.blogspot.ch/?

Birgitte's recreations of runway items were equal to none. I fear her months of working on a Balenciaga jacket burned her out.

Or Eugenia in London at http://theworldofeugenia.blogspot.ch/

Not even a little knit dress for us, Eugenia?

Please give us a sign of life. I am actually worried about you ladies. I lost 2009 myself to an illness that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Hope you're well and thriving.

New Year's Eve in Red, Burda's ruched-waist dress. Oct 2012 118A

Well, on New Year's Eve, the family jury was so far out on this one, they could have auditioned for a remake of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I gave them a choice between Burda's blue satin ruffled blouse under the Burda blue velvet kimono or this new number which a lot of Burdists in Russia made. It was very easy to sew, but  if my Eastern sisters were concluding in Russian, 'This dress doesn't look 'techno' as Burda thinks—it just looks hopelessly wrinkled and off-kilter,' I missed their warning, oh too late.

Here's how the afternoon of December 31 progressed as 2012 ticked away:

Daughter; Go with the blue kimono and blouse set. That red fabric is too thin and cheesy. That's a day dress, not for New Year's Eve.

I painted my nails red and tried the next jurist.

Husband: Go with the red dress but I can see your slip bumping through it. It looks lively. The blue kimono looks too loungey, not for a friends' festive night.

I added a red and gold necklace and tried Jurist Three.

Eldest son: Go with the blue. It matches your eyes. The red is okay. Actually the red goes with the necklace. Would you switch the jewelry for the blue? I don't know. What do you think of my waistcoat?

So I reckoned blue had won out, until...

Younger son: The blue velvet looks old, like something my Geneva violin teacher would've worn to dress up, way too spinstery. Go with the red. You look ten years younger in that.

Oh, ladies, if you knew that violin mistress, padding around town in flat orthopedic booties and a long black velvet skirt, thinking she looked artistic and bohemian, you'd know why I went out the door in red, knowing full well that I should wear a black tuxedo pants suit to spend New Year's Eve with among others, a nuclear weapons inspection diplomat of international standing just back from some powwow with the Russian foreign minister.

Yes, I went with the RED, cheesy viscose though it is, because hey, it's New Year's Eve when everybody wears boring, snoring, black. If New Year's Eve isn't cheesy, what is, right? And in the end the nuclear weapons diplomat took to the piano and we ended up singing cheesy old Broadway tunes without shame while my husband (remember his nine months of paralysis in 2011 in hospital?) danced with other lady guests. The hosts had knocked themselves out with all the Classic Foodstuffs of a French New Year's Eve. Great stuff. Worth celebrating. In red.

But for sewists facing the new year, Allison (THANKS FOR THE SHOUTOUT, ALLISON!) got this one beautifully right the first time out of the mag. On her advice, I cut the skirt on the straight, not the bias (Burda got that wrong.)

In the end, for me, this is a wonky design with good intentions. If you are pencil slim and use a better quality fabric, I bet it works as well as on their chic model above. But if you have a little bit of extra flesh on the hips or stomach, the draping adding bulk to your waist just looks like a mistake that caught on your Spanx as you came back from the ladies' room. I like the concept but would only remake it in a better quality woven after losing ten pounds. My choice of red knit was just too limp to pull off that cowl neckline as designed.

Last days of 2012

This isn't the wowza item I would have liked to give you for the end of this year, but it's perfectly respectable as a "found" dress made from a forgotten remnant of wool mix in a pin-stripe and burgundy poly satin lining. I'm not sure the neckline is for me, as I don't have a formidable and flawless chestbone area, but for what's it worth, here is Burda's sheath from the July 2011 edition as discussed in a previous post. (Yes, it's that bright in the Swiss mountains in the winter! The gray cashmere cardigan is really not even necessary in the midday sun up here.)
This photo shows that weirdly, I've lost weight around the waist since I fitted this dress a few weeks ago. It's not actually wrinkled around the midriff—I am. I can either add a belt or take it in some more, as I'm planning to wear it at the annual Geneva Writer's Group Agents and Editors weekend in early February.
The cause of the weight loss may be the stress and exercise of entertaining whole hordes of incoming gangs of now-adult friends of my once-children. It was one thing to hand out crisps and cookies to a gaggle of little kids, but now it's a question of ten strapping Swiss men and gorgeous women at a table for dinner and breakfast at one go, and another, and another to come when the Cambridge graduate friends arrive from the UK.
We took a family walk yesterday in the "backyard" which is actually 80 sq. kilometers of cross-country ski trails. I feature my daughter so often in the dressmaking posts that I thought I'd share the two sons for a change as they relish their break from English weather.

This last is a sentimental shot to do with crafts: Notice the small folding screen in the back on the grand piano depicting the Three Magi in felt on a red background of corduroy? It was crafted by my late father as he coped with very radical surgery and followup from cancer in the early sixties, based on a project he found in one of my mother's issues of McCall's magazine. We treasure it for obvious reasons. The tree is hung with dozens of stuffed figurines based on the Nutcracker Suite from a OOP Vogue Craft pattern from the late 70's, another treasure we bring out every year and that took me truly decades to complete, doing one or two every post-Xmas week. I think there are a few shepherdesses still to do, but give me a break.
 I don't think I've shown this room before, the sitting room with the fireplace, converted in the 1960's from the former winter shelter for the goats and cows. In the background you see the hall leading to the kitchen and its bookshelves, which is followed by a dining room and then a library. It's a pretty big old farmhouse, built in 1789, which grew and grew. It usually takes houseguest a full day or two to figure it out, as it's built into a hill and there is a back door on an upper floor which leads onto the backyard, three front doors, two back entrances, and six bedrooms, two of them converted to offices.

Between Aug, 2011 and Jan 2013, nothing changed?

Funny to watch how some designs kind of "melt down" from the designer version to the bare basics for beginning sewists: The fashionistas all made this Donna Karan knit dress, with its lovely fitted three-piece back, right off the bat, when it appeared some years ago:

  Burda made it a one-day project by eliminating the three-piece back half.

And Burda now says, you can get something like that cowlneck dress in ONE HOUR by sewing this version and adding a belt to pull it in.

Hmmm...

The Burda "Classic" Magazine issued last month

Last month, Burda issued an out-of-series special, called The Classics, based very loosely on a Chanel look, and I nabbed it with high hopes. Unfortunately, I find the styles just a tad clunky and boxy, as if they took everything I hoped for and stripped the designs down one notch too far. It's not labelled "Easy," so it's not part of that series, but still, the items look under-designed. Check out the whole magazine, by clicking here: Burda Classic Collection

This issue would be a great start for people who like to draft their own Frankenpatterns, need a work wardrobe that doesn't scream 'trend-slave,' or for a young sewist who wants to build her pattern library with some fundamentals she could play with.
But some of the styling relies too much on judicious accessorizing.

As I was just blogging about the option in the Style archives for 'shovel-neck' sheaths, (and I ignored many more nice designs for Plus sewists,) here's the Classic offering, which gives us a fitting seam, Empire-style, under the bosom and two darts, as well as three sleeve options. As you can see, it is a classic design, lacking the little edge that brings these dresses closer to the Galaxy look.

A Tale of Two Dresses, Burda July, 2011

A bit of sewing was very relaxing over the last two weekends.

I've finally finished the red knit cowl-necked dress, (without a zipper, it's  as simple to sew as a T-shirt) and will blog about it once I get up a photo (when it stops snowing!)

Meanwhile, I had a remnant of pin-striped wool/mix of only just over one metre (150cm wide) that I thought would make a good pencil skirt long ago. But it's been sitting alone in my sewing box (I don't really keep a stash) for two years-plus. I finally  decided to take it out and use it.

I realized that a pencil skirt just wasn't enough motivation for me. Then, I thought of my daughter's "shovel-neck" sheath dresses, made twice; once in underlined lace and the other in a high-tech pleather and lined. Both were hits with her, but were so short that, of course, I could have made either version in a metre or less.

Could I squeeze a sheath for a grown-up out of so little fabric?

I looked at two designs, both from Burda. Although they are very similar, and both are designs that offer ample seaming for a nice fit, notice that the pieces of the second front give you more leeway in squeezing the most out of a short length of fabric than the awkwardly-shaped front of the first dress cut on the fold. I think I would have preferred the more generous sleeve of the first over the second, but I only noticed this too late. (I didn't sew the sleeves for the daughter's two dresses.)

This is one of the reasons I like the Burda Style magazines. People complain that they repeat themselves, but in fact, the Burda people tweak and vary hot designs to give you variations to suit your materials and desired "feel." I'm going to blog in my next post about a third shovel-neck sheath offered in the Burda Classic Collection magazine of November.

Here are the technical designs for the pattern used for daughter's sheaths, model 115 from October 09, and below that, the model from July 2011 I settled on, as photographed above, for the pin-striped remnant dress. I think of both as the sewist's quickie take on a fancy Galaxy dress, so popular years ago.

I made a couple of simple changes to this dress. First I added a burgundy satin lining, (also bought as a cheap remnant of one metre) underneath the inner front facing and substituting for the upper back facing. I omitted the interfacing on the sleeves as I didn't want wings, just sleeves, and as I had three layers rather than two at the neckline, didn't interface that either. 

Most important, I wanted more pieces (and more flexibility) for an economical cutting layout. So I inserted the zipper into the middle of the center back, adding a seam  where otherwise I would have been "cutting on the fold."

I used Nancy's technique for sewing the lining directly onto a sheath dress, stitching the neckline to the facing+lining and then sewing the raw edges of the outer sleeves along with the lower sleeve opening in one go, as if the sleeves were simply extensions on a sleeveless dress. I'll confess my corners on the dress neckline were a bit wonky, as it was difficult to align the dress seaming to a facing that had no seaming. (Note that to squeeze the facing out of my metre of fabric, I couldn't get it up to the fold. So I added a center seam. Next time, I'd just cut a lining in the color of the outer fabric with the same seaming as the dress pieces and discard the facing piece altogether.

I also shifted the walking vent to my new center back, from the side vent shown above.

I always prefer a back zipper construction to a side zipper placement because sewing the side seams absolutely last before hemming means that you can pop on the dress at the end of construction and simply mark chalk along where the side seams will give you a glove-like fit. (If the zipper were in place on one side, you wouldn't have that kind of symmetrical fitting flexibility.)

As I say, photos of the two finished dresses to come.