They aren't from Banana Republic, but thanks more than you know.

There's something to be said about handcraft.  The nature of it, the making of it, and the solitude of it.  Much like running there is a rhythm and solace to the craft.  Of course, there are levels of talent and learned skill . . . none-the-less, there are few things so simply sweet and gratifying--to me--as sewing with my own machine, creating a beautiful item from a sheet of fabric, rearranging prints and designs for an altered perception.  Until recently, I've always sewed on someone else's machine . . . well, I finally have my own and the results have been rather cathartic and lovely.

Last spring I made my wedding dress, as I did the plunge--per se--in May.  Instead of making a muslin, or a practice dress as it is often called, I made my muslin from the fabric the dress would be from.  I've done this for years, usually finding a cheap fabric so that I get the feel of how the item will actually look in a print, cotton, silk, or so forth.  Often these items are used for the later alterations for my real fabric, sometimes . . . they become the actual fit themselves.  Well . . . with the dress my muslin was the dress, as all it needed was two tucks under the arms and taken in at the waist (which I should say in January it fit, in May three days before the wedding my friend Tiffany did those small tucks (of about five inches by then) for me).   I didn't have to make a second one, something I am still shocked that happened.  Little snippets of the dress, with hand beading all around (there's a double row on the back that doesn't really show here), capture it well.

I trimmed the top with beaded lace, edged with beads, designed with beads, and the edges of the veil have beads I added.  Clearly, I'm not up for beading anytime soon.  Oh, I did the flowers too.  The slip I bought, as there is never enough time.  I caught a lot of flack for making my own gown, but it was something that made sense to me.  When I went to David's Bridal to get the slip, I was offered money for my dress.  Three women in the dressing room were convinced it was on sale in the store.  Yes, something similar was . . . for more than five hundred dollars on clearance, a price I was not willing to pay.  

Of course, I made a beaded purse to accompany me with remedies for the day. 

With the dress being said, these days I've been sewing things for me and my house again.  Pillow shams, sleep pants, a bag for my Mom, one for a dear friend, a few sets of travel/make up bags, a couple of skirts, a shirt or two . . . you get the picture.  For years I've been a huge fan of Amy Butler, as the year I went to the Mid-Atlantic Quilt Show with my Mom I bought fabric to make the quilt on my bed.  In all reality, it started with a bag pattern and went from there.  I've branched out since then, and these days I'm still adoring her designs but Colette Patterns are capturing my desire for classic lines and construction. 

A few of the things I've made recently:

A pair of sleep pants, of like four from January, that come from Amy Butler's In Stitches book.  I adore the classic and flowing fit of these.  These are from Alexander Henry Fabric I bought a handful of years ago. 

Again, Amy Butler--from her Style Stitches book.  Of the pink, scrap City Girl fabric from perhaps another bag I made years ago.  I gave those away and made six more, three for me and three for a birthday present. The single bag was the test bag to learn and get the feel of my sewing machine.  Also, scraps from things over the years. 

Booties, from an iThinkSew pattern.  I made these from scrap Amy Butler fabric (I know, I know) that I used to line a bag I recently made my Mom.  These are mostly for the skill, but they sure are cute.  The lining is faux Sherpa that I bought for another project but didn't use.  Of course, if you look close, they are sitting on my bed in front of the pillow shams and quilt I made (yup, also from Amy Butler fabric).  The quilt is a few years old, but just as wonderful as the day I finished it. 

Then there is this one, that has some vintage buttons I bought four years ago.  I am still shocked I got the flowers to line up, and that it looks so wonderful.  Yup, Amy Butler Love fabric and the Amy Butler Liverpool Tunic.  I had made this one before and it looked horrible   Now . . . patience and practice makes it pretty nifty I'd say. 

I haven't worn the Liverpool yet, as it is too cold, but the Colette patterns are proving to be lovely.  I made the Juniper pants.  They are a classic wide leg pant, that I do well in and enjoy.  Well, with these I wanted to practice plaids (something I had never done) and see how I liked the design once made.  So . . . I went to JoAnn's, bought some inexpensive fabric (about 25 bucks worth), and set out to make them.  Well, as has happened so many times before my muslin became my finished product.  I matched the plaids up perfect, the zip fly (which I have done before but never so flawlessly) eased in, the pocket lining is from scrap fabric from the Amy Butler Kimberly Bag I did four years ago (which I can't recommend,as I hated it but made it for skill alone), and the fit is divine.  I even used the Colette tutorial on blind hems for a seamless one on these.  

I wore them to work this week, and two people swear they are from Banana Republic.  Yup.  I outdid myself on these.  Tanfer made jokes about the pattern being a beginner and that I am certainly not one.  

Along the way I've learned that sewing acts like running for me, as it clears my head and releases the angst of daily life.  I'm still running, writing (as I am in the final stages of two book projects), and teaching . . . but I have decided that I'm going to sew one day a week.  Why? The clothes I make fit me better and last longer than those from stores, the patterns I use I enjoy, and . . . because it is a skill losing its cultural value.  Fashion comes and goes so quickly, we often get caught up in the here and now and forget what makes us comfortable and feel at ease.  Pants with a fit of perfect ease can do as much for the day as a splurge of hundreds of dollars at Banana Republic.  More, I would say.  As, the self construction and watching a sheet of fabric be transformed serves an inner purpose of self-worth and accomplishment.  One that is not easily reproduced.