1974

In circa 1974, long before I was conceived  my Mom bought some mauve meets lavender crepe silk.  Well, we think it was '74, as it was before she met and married my Dad (in a whirlwind of 1975), and I came along a year later (so, yes, I was planned).  So, 1974 it is.  

The silk, with the floral sidekick and two spools of matching thread, sat on my Momma's shelf for years.  As a kid I would see that white plastic bag, peek inside, hear her scream "Don't touch that!," and I'd always say "When you gonna make that?"

In the summer of 2013 she asked me to help her organize a fraction of her sewing abyss.  In doing that, among the scraps of fabric that I use for muslins, the fabric neither of us know where it came from (or why someone would make or buy it) that is also muslin central for me, she relinquished and gave me her 30+ year old silk.  

I greedily grinned and promptly ducked it in my suitcase, so she couldn't take it back.  I then got it home and washed it.  30 years of dust gone it was a shade lighter, one side shiny.  Dude. 

I always knew it needed a retro vibe.  A '70s style, to invoke my Mom in '74 and me now.  

Well, if you don't know, I have a huge disdain for PDF patterns.  HUGE.  I really just hate taping them.  Don't get me wrong, I buy them from my favorite indie designers, a select few, but . . . just as I was about to pull the "purchase the PDF trigger" for Tilly's Mathilde blouse she published a print version.  I could kiss her then and now.  Yea, I hate taping that much.  

So . . . a retro '70s blouse was about to be born.  

I wasn't sure if this blouse would be me, but at worst I knew I'd have a retro blouse to teach and lecture in . . . in the reality of the final product I ended up with a blouse that is going to globe-trot with me.  

Since these sleeves are slightly poofed, I didn't have to worry about grading the arch when when I cut the size 8 sleeve for a size six body.  That . . . that was the only change.  Gasp, shock!

(I call this shot: the world is tilting, the world is tilting. It was.  I still had minor vertigo that day I ventured out for the FIRST TIME in a week. Gasp, indeed.)

I french seamed the edges, and on the back facings I serged . . .  by using microtex needles in Sergio (and Bernie).  And . . . as we all know I'm cheap, and frugal, I used a hodgepodge of lavender threads to fill the serger.  The colors go well, and at this point I've got a silk shirt for 20 bucks.  Even better, a kid in China didn't get cancer of the finger nails making it.  

I slightly wonked one of tucks.  Eh, my chest is enough to divert attention, and . . . did you really know until I told ya? Besides, ask my two besties . . . I'll take that shirt you are about to buy and tell you all that is wrong with it.  Much like you didn't see that off kilter tuck until I told you, you didn't see the serious design and construction flaws of your own clothes until I told you.  

I'm part evil.  I know.  You're welcome.  

And since I gave you the large version of the photo (and didn't even make you zoom in like a space diver), move on from looking at my chest now.  See . . .can't even seen the screw up.  

My Momma gave me those replicate vintage glass buttons too.  She actually bought a score of those just for me at a quilt show last year.  Yes, I have a shit-eating grin right now.  

Stunning, I know.  

And yes, my classy de ville is still wearing the near dead--just outright need to be retired--jeans.  I am, ahem, slating those for mid to late November as I bought and need to print, and drink while I tape a new PDF pattern as I've got denim waiting.  ;)   FYI, I also bought Heather'd denim kit, as her sourcing of my fabric has been spot on thus far . . . I'm also an oxymoron of lazy sometimes, and letting her do the heavy lifting of finding the fabric works for me!  In December, as I grade finals and finish edits on another book, I see jeans in my background for de-stress and happy-zone zen.  

And, everyone who reads here (or sees me in person) will be delighted to see the dying jeans dully retired.  

I also realize I am a shit, since I started my own PDF patterns and still hate taping.  I need to hire some elves to tape PDFs.  I encourage you to drink with them though, hence #ivebeendrinkingandsewing.  The elves . . . if they are 21 or over, then drink away.   

Of course, the bigger question is why I haven't made a damned plain brown pencil?  It would be stunning with 1974.  Yea, apparently I forget that I need a plain brown and black skirt in the mix.  Really, what is wrong with me? Don't answer that.  The list is probably too long.  

On other notes, I finished this shirt more than two weeks ago.  And then the weather changed and I couldn't wear her.  Really, I just got all dressed up to take pics for ya'll.  I'm now in a pair of Hudson Pants and a tee.  The look is comfortable, that is all.  Why so long on the post: the day I cut the fabric my Mom went into the hospital and I wasn't going to blather on her until she was out.  That only took 16 or so days.  No joke.  Then . . . then I got an ear infection in my late dirty 30s that came with a side of vertigo.  Vertigo! So . . . there you have it, in a sliding shell of silk . . .  

I have some more silk in my stash, that my Dad saw and loved and said you should make a blouse from this. Black Italian silk with red roses and cream swirls .  . .who am I to say no.  So, I think I'll hijack this one sans pleats, sans buttons, and sans yoke in the front.  We will see.  So, yes, I'd make it again . . . but hijacked a bit as it is a pretty distinctive piece.  So alterations make it two uniquely different pieces.  

On that note . . . I'm off to finish my blazer de gaffe or gaf blazer in Turk if you wish.  Why . . . oh, peek on Instagram, and come back here for the next installment of "Amazing Defeats with Designer Fabric."  There's been a few zut alors! uttered, well not zut alors per se.  Rather, fils de pute et merde have been forthcoming.  

Cha cha.  

Really, a book on food and war is tinkering now.  Then back to the french cussing at my machine.