A Sewing Machine as a Gift -- Yea or Nay?

Readers, I was both excited and troubled by a feature I saw in the most recent (January 2012) issue of Consumer Reports magazine.  Their annual "25 Great Gifts" list included -- are you sitting down? -- a sewing machine!

Actually three sewing machines (presumably you'd choose only one):  The Brother Innov-is 40, Pfaff Select 3.0, and the Bernina Activa 230PE. 



Now, I am unqualified to comment on the quality of these machines, having never seen any of them in person, let alone sewed on one.  I'm thrilled that a sewing machine made the cut as I think it reflects on a renewed interest in home sewing.  But the idea of purchasing a sewing machine as a gift (i.e., for somebody else) worries me.

And don't you love how Consumer Reports lists the BMW sports car (below right), which costs $49,525 as "for someone super special" as opposed to "from someone very rich," as if the cost of a gift reflects how much we value the recipient -- precisely what Madison Avenue tries to guilt us into thinking every year.   In this rotten economy it seems particularly tone-deaf.



I have seen so many threads on the Pattern Review message boards where someone (usually the husband of a sewer) is requesting advice on what sewing machine or serger to purchase for his wife.  And almost invariably the responses come in four-to-one that if they really want their wife to have the machine of her dreams, they should purchase a gift certificate from a reputable sewing machine dealer and let her choose the machine herself.

I am of the same opinion though I'm generally opposed to the idea of purchasing new things (other than socks, knit briefs and undershirts), given that most the Western world, and certainly the United States, is awash in perfectly good second-hand stuff.  And while the Bernina Activa is probably a wonderful machine, spending $1350 for a sewing machine seems like a crime whose victim is the customer.  I'm open to having my mind changed, of course, but come on, that's a lot of money.  Personally, I'd rather have the cash.  (In fact, I recently read on some blog that the way to tell if something is worth (to you) what you're spending on it, is to ask yourself if you had the choice between receiving the money or the item, which would you choose?  Think about it.  Would you rather have someone give you $1000 or get, say, a flat-screen TV?)

Friends, I open the floor to you (not literally; I'd hate to have you drop into a pool of hungry crocodiles).

1) Do you think you can ever buy a sewing machine -- wait, let me restate that: do you think you should ever buy someone else a sewing machine?  Unless, of course, you know exactly what model they want and it can be returned (if need be), and they can find support nearby for the machine should they need it?

2) Have you ever received a sewing machine as a gift? If so, were you happy with the choice made on your behalf or would you have preferred another? (Be honest!)

3) Do you agree that buying a sewing machine for someone else is not equivalent to purchasing them a DVD player or a set of knives (then again, for the serious cook, perhaps knives aren't such a good idea either)?

A sewing machine as a gift (for Christmas or any other time) -- Yea or Nay?

Read More

Miracle on 24th Street!

Friends, do you believe in Christmas miracles?  You don't?  Well, read on -- you soon may!

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, we rented a car to drive down to southern New Jersey to visit Michael's parents.  On our way to the garage, not two blocks from where we live on West 24th St., what do my eagle eyes spot atop a huge pile of trash on the curb, but a square folding table?  And not just any folding table, readers -- this table had a rectangular hole in the top, a very suspicious hole in the top.  Can you guess what it was?

I knew immediately!  As soon as we picked up the car, we zipped right back to the garbage pile, and I kid you not: en route, we passed a NYC Sanitation truck approaching this very corner; we'd arrived not a moment too soon!  I jumped out and threw the table in the trunk.  We then continued on our way.

The pile of garbage where I found the table looked a lot like this one.

This morning we're back from our trip -- Merry Christmas everybody! --  and that folding table is in the apartment.  As you can see, Michael was delighted at the prospect of bringing this treasure into our home!





Behold!



While the table's surface could use refinishing, the table itself is sound and very stable.  Surely by now you have guessed what this Christmas miracle trash find is.

A vintage Singer Featherweight table!

I think Santa meant to drop it down the chimney but got tuckered out and left it a block away.  How else can you explain it?  I mean, who throws out a Featherweight table on Christmas Eve?  



This table is missing the insert that fills the hole when the machine's not in it, but to me this is unimportant since it's not like I'd use the table for anything other than sewing.







Wait.  I know what you're thinking.  I'm thinking it too:

Am I really going to use this sewing table (my fourth)?

Where am I going to store the table when I'm not using it?

Where am I going to put the table when I AM using it?

Details, details!  Please -- it's Christmas, and this is a true Miracle on 34th 24th Street.  Did you ever question why Maureen O'Hara would give up a fabulous Central Park West apartment with a million-dollar view to move to suburban Long Island?!  She just added two hours to her daily commute.

Some things shouldn't be scrutinized too closely.

"Susan, from now on we'll visit Santa at the Roosevelt Field Shopping Mall."

Anyway, folks, that's all the miracles from my corner of the world so far.  The universe certainly works in mysterious ways is all I can say.

Meanwhile, we and the dogs had a lovely Christmas Eve, complete with canine presents.









Best wishes for a Happy Holiday, from our family to yours! 

Now do you believe in Christmas miracles?

Read More

Is Fashion In a Rut?

Readers, do you think fashion is in a rut?  I ask, having just read a very thought-provoking article by Kurt Anderson in the January 2012 issue of Vanity Fair, entitled "You Say You Want a Devolution."

It's a longish article, but the basic thrust of Anderson's argument is that the evolution of (Western) style -- fashion, architecture, interior design, even music -- has been slowing, so much so that very little change has taken place in the last twenty years.  Examples: jeans, tee shirts, and sneakers reigned in the early 90's (and arguably before) and they're still king; Madonna then, Lady Gaga channeling Madonna now.

One point he makes is that if you were to compare the styles of the 1930's with those of the 1950's (a twenty year span), you'd see radical change.

Same goes with comparing the 50's to the 70's, or the 70's to the 90's.

Since the 90's however, according to Anderson, change has been less dramatic.  He cites a number of reasons for this: change-related fatigue, economic slowdown in Western economies, and nostalgia, among others.

His point about fashion rings true.  If you saw these early 90's teens (the original 90210 cast) at the mall today, would they look terribly out of place (as strange as, say, a 50's teen would have looked 70's)?  I don't think so.

Does Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, a film now more than twenty years old, look as dated to us today as early-60's teen Patty Duke would have in the late 80s?

I agree that clothing styles are evolving more slowly and I attribute a lot of it to economics -- it costs big bucks to radically alter silhouettes every few years -- and to a general weakening of authority in all areas of life.  I believe most Americans, at least, are unwilling to have styles dictated to them the way they were, say, in the 1950's, a time when Authority was more widely respected.  Once people felt freer to make their own choices (from a wider variety of options), dressing primarily for comfort for example, most women were unwilling to go back to girdles and stockings or, in the case of men, ties and hats.

The Mad Men look is cute but I'll keep my jeans.

There were also huge social changes in the first three-quarters of the Twentieth Century resulting from female emancipation, the Great Depression, two world wars, rapid suburbanization, the Pill, anti-war and civil rights protests, feminism, Watergate -- and fashion reflected this.  Once the pace of change started to slow down, along with Reagan-era nostalgia for the halcyon days of Leave it to Beaver, so did change in fashion.  

More recently, the emergence of global fashion corporations like LVMH means that the bottom line is THE top priority: a companies' first loyalty is to its stockholders.  Quality suffers but quarterly (quarterly being the term that matters most) profits go up.  So instead of coming out with radically new styles, we get "luxury" handbag fads and wacky shoes that require a lower level of investment and produce higher profit margins. 

Finally -- and this is a point Anderson makes in his article -- the Internet allows us to draw from the past much more easily than before.  We now have a library of past styles we can access 24/7.  For example, we vintage sewers can choose the decade we like best and recreate it, even using the original patterns (easily found on Etsy and eBay), original styling (just Google "New Look" or "20's flapper") and makeup (there are thousands of vintage makeup tutorials on YouTube).



What do you think, readers?  Do you agree that styles are changing more slowly?  How much of your wardrobe could you have worn twenty years ago without raising an eyebrow?

(Alternatively, how much of your wardrobe is more than twenty years old and still looks perfectly in style?)

Is this so-called style rut a problem -- or a blessing?

Jump in!

Read More

Joy to the World, the Pants are Done!

Friends, I certainly hope viewing this pic isn't putting anyone's job in jeopardy.  But I just finished my cherry leopard stretch denim pants and I am ready to rap, or whatever one does, shirtless, in leopard pants.  Actually, I'm listening to my lovely Concert, Theater & Parlor Songs of John Philip Sousa CD.  Weird, right?

I love these pants: they're funky, yet cut like ordinary straight-leg jeans.  Here's the more conservative look, relatively speaking.  Hope this doesn't give you a pattern-induced headache.



Here's the rear, for those who wonder about such things.  I'm not sure leopard is doing me any favors back there, frankly.



These pants turned out much better than I'd expected, though I did have a few challenges.  I put a hook and eye in the waistband, which went in without a problem.



But I also added a 1" waistband extension on which I'd hoped to put a buttohole, only my vintage Singer buttonholer doesn't want to do it -- I guess the fabric, which has heavy waistband interfacing inside, is just too thick.



I'll either stitch on the flimsier type of hook and eye or make a buttonhole by hand, which I've never done before but would be open to trying.  Either way, the whole area is under a belt and therefore not visible, plus the original tailor-type hook and eye securely closes the pants.

Since the fabric stretches width-wise, I serged twill tape onto the top of the pockets before turning them under.



Normally the top of the pocket would be turned under twice, but the fabric is too thick and stretchy for that.  Finished this way, I could turn them under only once.  I then topstiched along the top, and the twill tape cut down on the horizontal stretching.



The back pockets went on without a problem.  I used my Singer 201 for all the topstitching (using heavy topstitching thread from Sil Thread) and my Featherweight for most other seams.





I used commercial waistbanding inside the waistband as interfacing, since I really wanted the waistband to be sturdy and I had some lying around.  It worked well, though it may be the reason I can't make a buttonhole through the waistband extension.



BTW, all my flat-felled seams are faux.  Spongy, stretchy fabric and true flat-felled seams do not mix.  I just serged my seam allowances and topstitched from the outside twice.  You'd never know that difference.

Even though they're basically jeans, I hemmed by hand because I didn't want the width-wise stretch to create ripples or waves in the hem -- do you know what I mean?  Before I hemmed, I stitched twill tape to the hem edge.



And that's it!  I am happy to be done and excited about working these pants into my wardrobe, though my burgundy and black saddle shoes won't be here till next week, sadly.

In closing, indulgent readers, are you ready to take the leopard plunge?  Predator preppy is so going to happen in 2012, I just know it.

Have a great day, everybody!

Read More

Leopard Pants Progress!

Readers, the pants are coming along.  For you jumpsuit fans -- what can I say?  Maybe next time.  I really don't wear jumpsuits, to be honest.  I don't jump much.

A few strange things about this fabric -- other than the wacky print -- worth mentioning.  The stretch is on the warp (i.e., parallel to the selvage) rather than the weft, so I cut the pants legs perpendicular to the selvage, rather than parallel.  Otherwise the pants would have stretched in length but not in width, which would have been funky, don't you think?  The only visible grain is the weft as well.

So far, it seems  to be working; we'll see what the result is like.

I made the pockets out of a vintage striped cotton I picked up at the flea market recently (along with the print fabric that became Michael's short-sleeve shirt).





Now, I must say that cut, this cherry leopard print looks much less overwhelming, and I'm starting to really like it, even if it was probably intended for a thirteen-year-old girl. 



Plus -- how's this for spooky coincidences? -- it just happens to go with my recently purchased (used on eBay) Allen Edmonds shoes!



I call the look Predator Preppy!  (Or does that sound too much like Anthony Perkins in Psycho?)

And speaking of preppy, would you spend $75 on this book?

I saw Hollywood and the Ivy Look in the window of a neighborhood bookstore and was intrigued, but I think I will be limiting myself to the book's blog.  I'm over expensive coffee table books.  I don't even have a coffee table. 

Friends, it is time for me to make my back pockets.  With luck, I will be able to finish these today. 



Honestly, do you think these pants are more predator preppy.... 

...or Cheetah Girls?

Happy sewing, everybody!

Read More