A Negroni and Handmades

Well, as most of the world knows (even if they don't celebrate it) Christmas just came and went . . . and in the western sense I celebrate it with gifts.  Of course, since I am American scores expect me to celebrate it in terms of mounds of cheap crap bought from local chain stores or procured via the internet and home delivery.  Yea, well . . . that didn't happen.  Just as I was (and am) serious about not buying clothes (bras, knickers, sock, and jeans are the exceptions . . . with my jeans now coming from a local maker when I purchase my next pair sometime in 2014--I bought two pair this year (from Turkey)) I am serious about the handmade gifts.  I am long done trying to shop for people.  For the few people I gift, they all know . . . orders and requests are permitted.  And trust me, the people who get handmade are pretty slim in number.  Why? I only gift people who matter and who will appreciate it.  Also, handmade . . . well, a shockingly large number of people are offended with handmade items thinking they are cheap.  Yea.  Go check the cost of fabric alone and then tell me it is cheap.  Count the number of hours . . . I'll stop.

(I also apologize now for the typos.  I have more distractions than I can count right now . . .)

And since I got a sweet little Nikon 3200, that I've been dying for for ions now, I am sure you can tell the difference between my iPhone photos and the real ones.

And now . . .

You already saw the bag I made my Dad's brother.

And folks on Instagram and Ravelry saw the hat I made my Momma, and the one for me too.  The notes and pattern info are there.  It is kinda of a no brainer, make while watching shitty tv after a crappy day.  Feel free to include a glass of adult bliss if you like.  I did.  

Yes, look close . . . there are two hats there.  I hear my Momma has pretty much had it on her head since she opened it.  Hmmm.  Score on my part.  Mine: Worn, washed, worn again.  

My Dad got some finishing salts and there's infused olive oil and preserved lemons for him when I see him next.  Yea, folks, I am not mailing that via the US postal service.  

My sister, who well I blocked her from seeing this post on Facebook and I can only hope she turns away if she peeks before she gets my gift, got a Kelly green hoodie (a favorite color for her) with some custom tweeks . . . of course my serger and hand-stitch moxie played a big role in that one.  

The Avocado Hoodie, what else?! Of course, I made one over the summer so I had the kinks worked out.  For real.  

Double label, double the fun.  

I tapped my inner Coco and hand ticked the thumb holes.  Practice for my real Coco of 2014 I think.  

Last minute add: I decided this bad boy needed some kick.  Lipstick kisses lining the pocket.  I mean, how can you not?

A perfect pocket tab.  A shitty color of the hoodie.  

Serger porn.  Need I say more?

The hood and pocket are lined with left over knit from a renfrew . . . go figure.  

And then the husband . . . 

Well, when he asks you to make matching flannel pajama pants, requests them in The Grinch, and is sweet about it . . .yea, you got suckered and can't say no.  

Ripple got a scarf too!

Ripple, on Christmas morning . . . stealing someone's BoSuxs blanket.  LOL.  And yea, my Nikon takes some sweet pics.  

Of course, he got some vintage buttons that matched in a dreamy way . . . vintage green thread from my stash also holds the pieces together.  Did I tell you that he came home, I asked him try them on, and he well . . . he didn't take them off?

Of course, about a month ago I made up monkey PJS, from fabric my Momma bought us.  She was insistent that we have them, I used a vintage pattern she gave me (one she used on my brother in late 1970s), and while the monkey PJs are a little big on him he sure does wear them alot.  Though, getting a pose is well . . . 

I had to adjust the pattern, and after this pair The Grinchs came out perfect in size.  Not too roomy, certainly not too small.  That's Robert Kaufman fabric for The Grinch, if you are wondering.  I picked it up on Fabric.com on a sale, ya know since it was requested . . . the monkeys came from the summer trip to North Carolina with my Momma.  

Did I tell you that on the monkeys I forgot to flip the opening of the fly? What?! I normally make pants for me . . . girl flies are opposite.  He wears them anyway.  And, yes his Grinch pants are facing the correct way!

Mine.

Now . . . if you are on Instagram, you saw this:

He opened it, his eyes got big, his face got a huge smile, a voluntary "oooh, I like!" erupted and then . . . "What's that say, 'fart with air?'"  Yea, redneck he is. 

And, yes, I give you the Negroni.  For the record, I showed him a ton (I mean a ton) of plaid flannels two months ago.  He loved this one.  Hence, shirt number one.  Green is also his favorite color.  

Tanfer's Mom provided the buttons!

Mmmmm.  

I had his chest measurement and for the rest I dug through his closet and measured against shirts that I like the fit on him.  The changes from a size large on his 42 inch chest and 5 foot 8 frame: I moved the cuff button to the edge (and next time I will move the button hole too) and on the side seams I reduced it to a quarter of an inch and just serged it.  I am fully capable of doing flat felled seams, but the serger is still new smelling and . . . well . . . judge me later.  Though, when I made my sister's hoodie that fabric shed so much green fuzz that A) I cleaned the serger no less than three times while sewing and B) it looked like a leprechaun took a massive diarrhea dump in my machine.  Wrong, on so many levels.  

Damn, I wish I had someone to make shit for me.  Oh wait, I do.  It's called me.  ha ha ha ha.  Up this weekend: two flannels.  The second Negroni for Rich and another Archer for me (ha ha).  He liked a purple/maroon and gray flannel from that haul I showed him, and he also has been begging for matching flannels.  Yea, I am about to go there.  Yup.  I even wrapped up the Negroni pattern and fabric for him Christmas morning.  Should have seen his face when he opened it.  Well why'? As I told him, I needed to make sure the green machine fits before investing in making a second.  As you can see the green machine is pretty damned perfect.  

It's funny how handmade becomes such an ingrained part of your life, so much so that you find it unnerving to not wear and give something from your own hand.  Of course, the one of a kind factor certainly plays into the picture . . . 

Check out that plaid: a perfect match.  And the platitudes from JoAnn's this fall . . . you've already heard me blather about in an Archer post.  Awesome. 

I told him to not look like a dork.  This is what I got.  Better than Dazed and Confused.  :)

Fits him well, don't ya think?

 Of course, Christmas morning and my new camera caught some good ones . . . the Mutt and Mr. Fairytale and him looking afraid (in a light up hat he bought, not me, the night before).  That hat is pretty funny, even though he froze his ears off in it!

Oh . . . he got these too, as he has been asking.

Okay, well I has some of that Alexander Henrt fabric with blue eyes on the skeletons and I made a fab bag for a friend.  He's finally over the fact that I used the fabric for her and not him . . . PJs for spring. 

I certainly sew alot . . .that I know.  Before New Year's I'll see about counting down what I made this year.  My folks are betting triple digits.  I say they exaggerate.  I say they exaggerate, but  . . . um it might be close.  There were a lot of renfrews and briars (as I wore them out so damned quick), pjs for me, some things that I've already shrunk out of or decided it looked like a horror show on me, and then there's those bags I made.  Yea, we have snow/rain coming . . .I'll certainly spend an afternoon looking through fabric memories of 2013 and commemorate them here.  Of course I have some plans for 2014, aside from another book or two and more articles . . . cha cha.  

And from Christmas morning, after we opened crackers (with whistles included) we were gifted.  

Ripple was not amused, though she was more concerned with guarding the stuffed bone I made her (from scraps) and for us to not judge her drool.  You shouldn't either.  At least she doesn't do it on my bed.  Only hers.  There's a reason I wash that silly thing so much.  

It's winter, folks . . . even if the snow disappeared to leave us with a gray, frozen tundra of urban design.   

And Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, in the closest thing to a card I sent this year: