Blazer de Gaffe and a Little Silk on the Side

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved fall, blazers, jeans, and boots.

Yea, me.  Blazer, boots . . . skirts and jeans.  All fall, winter, and spring long.  Fall especially  as they stun afainst the blissful fiery backdrop . . . also known as the ghetto end of my block.

Along came my pattern stash and some leftover wool from that failed coat of last year.  Fail, you say?

Eh, look at the overly puffy sleeves that cave in? And fail, for sure, as I tried her one and OMG just put me in a bonnet, give me a wicker basket, and off to the prairie I go.  Last year she fit.  This year she's atrocious and big.

McCalls 5188 came on que.  I plotted this one, using my tailoring guide, making notes . . . I drafted the muslin.

Here I need to note that a muslin is a piece you make to find the fit.  Muslin are not clothes you wear, unless you make them from clothing fabric as a "wearable muslin." I usually don't do those.  This . . . is clearly a muslin.  Some jackass keeps saying I make ugly clothes, and that same one is saying I wear things like my coat muslin or this orange test piece   I have no words for that level of absurdity.  Then again, some people can't read, comprehend, or . . . moving on.

Yea, an old sheet came in handy.  Alterations: removed the center back seam, and then I cut the sleeves on the largest size while cutting the arch to my size.  So width increased with arm hole the same.  Added patch pockets to the front, and then--as you can read and see--I tailored the hell out it.  As for McCalls patterns . . . I always, always, have to do a back adjustment.  If there's a center seam I start with adjusting that.  Removing it, and not subtracting the seam allowance, worked ideal here. If course, I had to add that much into the collar.  Honestly, I just cut the center back on the fold, and when I cut the collar I moved it 5/8ths of an inch from the fold to allow the increase.  Lazy but efficient I say.  Oh, I shortened the sleeves two inches.  Always. 

First moment of merede.

I realized I'd applied the weft interfacing to the wrong side of the facing.  Apply heat, peel off, pray.  Sit there and see glue pebbles . . .

Enter fuzz buster.  I went over the piece about three times, and half an hour later I resumed normal breathing again.

First fail avoided. Weft interfacing, on every wool piece except the collar and two front pieces (the facings have weft).  The other three . . . fusible horse hair interfacing.  The quick ease of getting the glue off is probably more a testament of my shitty iron that I killed in less that  year.  Rest assured, I have upped the iron game.  Still not IV iron, but . . .it is better than the 30 to 50 dollar shittos I've been killing faster than I own pairs of panties.

This error du jour occurred in the cutting phase, but since I didn't notice it until the sewing phase it is number two.

Look close: that front piece is cut on the CROSS GRAIN.  Shit.  That is what I said when I realized it.  I already had the first front sewed, and top stitched . . . thus, I embraced the "let's roll" mantra and aimed for number two. Then, I thought, "hey, I've got extra teal leather . . . let's see."

Then, I crowd-sourced my not-so secret shame.

I sewed that with a denim needle, since it is a thin, pliable leather.  To get it to stay on the fabric while I sewed.  . . a glue stick.  Yea, my dirty little secret it out.  Sorry?  Not even a little. My leather is a soft, thin, workable leather so I used a denim needle and my edge foot.  Bernie did good.  Though, Bernie later hated me on the button hole but we are getting ahead of ourselves. . .  

I basted the pockets on, then top stitched, then removed the basting.  Such a waste you say . . . eh, my pockets are pretty nifty.

Next up, pad stitching and taping.  Had some age old teal tape in my stash, score on me.  

                                            

Mini spools of thread, vintage to boot, make good use when when scrap thread and bobbins are scarce.  A few cups of elma chai (apple tea), sans sugar or honey indeed, and a few episodes of Breaking Bad later . . . 

I've got guts.  Do you?

Since all those princess seams are top-stitched I didn't have to catch stitch them.  Score, one; coat, 10. 

That back piece is of non fusible horse hair, and she's there to prevent my jacket from hanging on me.  She lays on me, and the back arch provides subtle stabilization.

Sleeve caps and heads. 

For the heads, I cut two pieces of fleece on the bias at 2" by 12", and then I sewed them onto the sleeve, starting and stopping at dots that are markers for gathering.  Why the header? Eases that bad boy in, no need to gather, and . . . it's easy as pie.  My expensive tailoring book says to use lambswool, other guides say flannel, fleece, soft cotton, etc.  Fleece works for me, and I have a scrap hunk from my Mom's cast offs . . . hence, read I'm sometimes el cheapo.  

The caps . . . on my Jackie O I used flannel.  This time I used muslin (washed . . . I keep a hunk of washed muslin just for these reasons).  I didn't have enough scrap flannel on hand, so I went for muslin this time.  Those caps just prevent your sleeves from caving in unsightly manners.  Also, look at the shoulders.  Some sexy lines I say.  

Shoulder pads, hand stitched, half inch into the seam allowance.  So much hand stitching.  

 A view, which IG got this one first.  

 A shy view. 

Silky lining.  Yea, chartreuse silk to be exact.  

I love it, but getting that teal, which matches the leather, to picture . . . there's so much hate in me right now.

As with Jackie O, I hand set those lining sleeves.  

Vents.

That teal is pretty awesome . . . and the solo button from the stash.  The buttonhole decided to shit the bed, so I ended up finishing it by hand.   Blazer de gaffe.  

The patches are about 1/4 to 1/2 an inch to close to the front of the sleeve.  Oh well.  It doesn't matter, not really noticeable, and  . . . doubt you would have noticed if I hadn't told ya.  

All her glory:

Let's have another view:

There was voting involved, for the US midterms, and this . . . over by the school a five minute walk from my place . . . the photo below, right after jokes about Republicans and suppressing my Feminist Majority vote erupted (or as radically dubbed, the vagina vote). 

I'm oddly okay with my hair flying about here.  Minor wind, after a busy day, and after hours of productivity . . .  and no, I'm lacking boots.  Canvas Converses win though.  

Though, she's not a blazer per se.  More of a fall jacket in some designer wool, expensive silk, pretty teal . . . so much hand stitching . . . She's a keeper I think.  Warm enough for fall, and spring, and sturdy enough to survive.  If we get another arctic blast this winter she'll become a layering piece for the Frozen Apple.  

Along side the blazer, I went a little Coco and made a matching shirt.  Butterick 5526.

Size 18, size 22 sleeves with an 18 arch.  Snaps trumped buttons.  

From slinky cut to finish: 4 hours.  

I know.  Another button up.  What can I say?   So I'll spare you another post on the beauty of the button up.

Snaps . . . I really like that clean front.  Also, I decided to try a snap, silk look since I keep eyeballing.  The lines of this one are spot on, and the lack of a yoke in the back makes it even cleaner.  It's a little '70s, but I'm okay with that as we already know.  

That was snapped after a 12 hour day.  

On that note, I'm off to pontificate in my own weeds of discourse . . . grading, a book to finish, sleep to find.