It's not easy sewing green

I have now successfully created a pair of pajama pants! Huzzah! It was only moderately difficult and time consuming. I decided that my first actual garment should be something that most people wouldn't see, that way it didn't need to be made perfectly. A couple of weeks ago, I managed to persuade my husband to go with me to Joann to buy some flannel to make PJ's out of. I chose an adorable Kermit the frog fabric for myself, while he selected a more masculine, baseball print. I assumed that I would mess up the project at some point (most likely during the cutting process), so instead of buying the required 2 1/2 yards of fabric, I purchased 4 yards. With my simple pattern from Walmart and a whole furlough day off to sew, I set about my task.

I did some quick Googling to research how I should go about making the pants. Again, I've seen my mother put together costumes using patterns in the past, so I felt I knew the basic steps.
Step 1: Pick the appropriate size on the pattern paper, and cut it out.
Step 2: Lay the fabric down flat and use the pattern to cut out the right shape on the fabric.
Step 3: Sew everything together.
Step 4: Enjoy comfy new PJ's.


Right away, I realized I had a small conundrum. I was going to make the pants for myself first, and then use the same pattern to create a pair for my husband using different fabric. However, his pants would need to be larger than mine, so I wouldn't be able to use the pattern if I cut out my own size first. Following that logic, I decided to cut out the large size of the pattern first and use it to cut out my husband's fabric. Then, I cut the pattern paper to the medium size (which made me happy after I consulted the measurements on the instructions; it's always nice to wear something that is a medium since I normally only wear large), and used that medium pattern to cut out my Kermit fabric. All that cutting, and pinning of the pattern to the fabric, and cutting again, and thinking about how to cut took about 2 hours. I was pretty disheartened at that point, guessing that the sewing process was going to take twice as long as the cutting.


So now I had my two oddly shaped pieces of fabric, plus a long skinny piece I would use later to make into a drawstring. At the beginning of all this, I had glanced at the directions, not understood a word of my they were saying, and decided to wing it. I took the edges that matched up logically and pinned them together. In only a few minutes, I had sewn my first seam on clothing! It was so easy!


But then, I tried to figure out where I should sew next, and realized I had put the legs together completely wrong. Instead of pants with two legs, I had the beginning of a very tight, longs skirt. There was only one way to fix it: rip out the beautiful, perfect seam I had just created. Luckily, the sewing kit I'd recently purchased included a stitch ripper-outer (officially known as a seam ripper, what a logical name!). This fun little tool looks like a miniature javelin with a sort of hook. I learned they are extremely intuitive to use because I just started putting the hook down the middle of the seam, pulling gently, and the stitches came out fairly quickly. Also, luckily, there was an episode of "Say Yes to the Dress" for me to watch on TV during this tedious task.


As I started to put the pants together again, I consulted the directions carefully. I ignored the written directions, which were full of sewing terms I'd never heard of, and stuck to the pictures. The first picture that made any sense to me (there were a couple others that showed how to make a button fly, but I decided to forgo that step) demonstrated sewing the inseams of the legs to themselves up until the crotch. This made a lot more sense that sewing things together randomly. I made a kind of cylinder with each leg piece, wrong-side out, of course, and carefully sewed the inseams. Then (and this was the crucial step that had confused me earlier) I turned one of the legs right-side out and placed it inside the other leg. This way, I was able to sew together all the pieces at the crotch and waist. At this point, I was able to try on my half-completed garment to find: they looked like real pajama pants! Now, all I had left to do was create little gap up at the waist and hem the legs, which were far too long. Both of those steps were easily accomplished. On to the drawstring! This was where I hit a snag. While I had sewn a seemingly straight seam down the length of the fabric strip, when I went to turn it right side out, the seams began to come apart. Not wanting to redo the entire drawstring (and not really wanting to turn the whole, skinny thing right-side out), I improvised. I remembered that I had a large amount of ribbon from my wedding rehearsal bouquet (which is made of ribbons from shower gifts). Notably, I had about a football field's worth of dark purple ribbon from the packages off our Bed, Bath and Beyond Registry. You see, nearly every gift we received was off of our registry, which was gift wrapped by Bed, Bath, and Beyond, so I literally have tons of purple ribbon left over. Which certainly came in handy today!


After using a safety pin to pull the ribbon through the waistband, I was able to try on my completed garment, which looks like an actual pair of pajama pants! And here they are, in all their green glory!

The next project will be a similar pair for a husband, which will hopefully go even smoother. I should probably buy some better ribbon for his drawstring, though. Purple does not go with his baseball themed print.
Sew ya later, alligator! Er . . . frog, that is.

Another day, another pillow . . .

I am now the proud creator of 2 pillows! Using the same snowflake patterned cotton that I made my first pillow out of, I sewed an identical pillow today.

Before constructing this latest pillow, I ventured online for some advice on how to finish up the pillow (so that it wouldn't have a strange lumpy corner). This search led me to some good news and some bad news. The good news is that I already knew how to "properly" finish up a pillow. The bad news is that no one online had any genuinely helpful suggestions on how to improve my pillow finishing technique. I watched several YouTube videos and perused about a dozen other sites with written instructions. Most people recommended sewing up the last bit of the pillow with the sewing machine, a technique which I initially abandoned for hand sewing (with mixed results). I did notice, however, these sewing experts would demonstrate the technique, but never zoom in the camera close enough to show you the finished product. They would just sort of hold the pillow up the air with a flourish. Thank you for providing vague information, internet! My favorite video pictured a man doing a terrible job of hand stitching his pillow, which was accompanied by hundreds of comments from other viewers reiterating how horrible his sewing was. Did he never go back to check how people responded to his clip?

Nevertheless, my search was not completely fruitless. I learned an important term about fabric. Instead of saying the "front" of the fabric (which I think is pretty universally understood as the side with the pattern or the side that looks normal), that is officially referred to as the "right" side of the fabric. And the back is called the left side? No, it's called the "wrong" side of the fabric. Poor wrong side, not only does nobody want to look at you, but you'll never have the correct answer!

Anyway, back to the pillow at hand . . . or at needle. Since I was using the same navy blue thread that I had used on the first pillow, I had left everything threaded and grooved and inserted into the sewing machine. My fingers were crossed that I could simply turn the machine back on and sew away. Wrong! As wrong as the wrong side of the fabric. The result was a giant knot on the back of the fabric which stemmed from the innards of the sewing machine. It took me a few minutes to get everything untangled enough to cut away, and a few more minutes to coax the bobbin thread move at all. Luckily, my gentle persuasion unsnarled everything without requiring my to rethread anything. When I tried to sew again, the machine produced smooth, perfect stitches without protest. I don't know what I did wrong, or right, for that matter, but I'm just glad it was working.

There was a useful technique I did pick up from one of the videos, though. As I sewed down each length of the pillow, when I got to a corner, I learned how to change directions correctly. Once I reached the point where I wanted to turn, I twisted the hand crank (pick circle on the side of the machine) to move the needle all the down. Then, I was able to lift the press foot (the foot-looking metal piece that holds the fabric flat underneath the needle) and twist the fabric around into the new direction. The needle held the fabric firmly in place so that I didn't end up with a weird gap in the corner. Like last time, I didn't completely sew up the fourth side of the pillow. I left a small gap, which I used to turn the pillowcase inside out (or "right side out," as an official seamstress would say).

While stuffing the pillow through the small hole (which I apparently made smaller and more difficult this time), I noticed that it was a lot more boring this time. I think at this point I have met my quota of sewing projects which require stuffing. 2 days later, when the pillow was completely stuffed, I noticed that the sides looked a bit straighter on this pillow than on the first one. The corners seem pointier (in a good way), which I will attribute to my new corner making technique.

I decided to use only the sewing machine in sealing up the final gap in the pillow. I tried my best to be more careful in keeping everything straight and flat, which is not easy when dealing with a rounded, puffy object. While it's still not perfect, the hole seems to be more evenly closed and blends in better with the rest of the edges.

In the flush of victory, I would like to give a big shout out to my Australian "in-laws," who deserve many thanks for my wonderful sewing machine. Perhaps when I've got a few weeks to kill, I'll stuff and sew a pillow in the shape of Australia as a tribute.

And sew, another day ends.

Project #1 = Success!

Hooray! Not only did I manage to figure out how to thread the sewing machine (correctly, that is), I made my first project all by myself. Victory, thy name is a pillow!

So, the first hurdle to overcome was figuring out how to thread the machine. Which, the instruction manual, the instructional DVD and the box that the machine came in all proclaimed was "very simple and easy." If it's so simple and easy, why does it require 20 pages of instruction in the manual? The instructional manual was a tad overwhelming, especially considering that all the directions were presented in 3 different languages in the same space. It also wasn't too helpful that the manual referred to all fifty-something parts by their official manual terminology, which I hadn't memorized instantaneously. I decided to watch the instructional DVD that came with the machine, in the hopes that the visual aides would be more insightful.

Okay, so all we've got to do first is use the sewing machine to put thread on the bobbin. No problem. By the way, my DVD informs me that the bobbins are the clear plastic things which came with the machine, not to be confused with the 10 other clear plastic things also included. But that's alright, I know what a bobbin is (hence my pseudonym, in case you hadn't caught that). They are little mini spools of thread that go inside the machine so that every stitch has thread both on top and on the bottom of the fabric. Having the bobbin thread is kind of like sewing everything twice, so it stays together really well (as opposed to sewing something by hand). The bobbins that my mom had were metal, but I know what they look like.

Um, the only thing that came with the sewing machine was the instruction manual. According to that (and the DVD), I should have all these other utensils (mostly clear plastic thingys). It takes me a few minutes to realize the bobbins (and other thingys) are inside what I like to call the "glove box" or "secret compartment" of the sewing machine. I'm sure there's an official name for it, and it's probably identified in my instruction manual, but I don't care enough to look it up. OK, the bobbin is located. I watch the video on how to put thread on the bobbin, then chose a navy blue thread to use. Then, I "rewind" the DVD (is it called rewinding? It's not like there's anything physically being wound backwards) to the beginning of the scene. Pausing the DVD in between each step, I thread the bobbin without complications. The biggest problem I have is getting the thread through the microscopic hole in the bobbin, which is clear plastic, making the hole even more difficult to see. Now, I've just got to put the bobbin into the machine, underneath the needle, so that the machine will pick it up.

As I open the slot for the bobbin, of course I find that there is already an empty bobbin there. I would have noticed this earlier if it wasn't made out of clear plastic. I mean, the bobbins are practically invisible! Who thought this was a good idea? I can already foresee myself dropping an empty bobbin, finding it even more difficult to locate than a contact lens, and then finally locating it in a few days when one of my cats ends up choking on it! Since that disaster has not yet occurred, let's move on to threading the bobbin the machine. It's a fairly simple process of slipping the thread into the right grooves, until the final step in the video. The first example shows placing the thread into something that clearly is not on my sewing machine. I pause the video, rewind it, and watch it 3 or 4 times, about to panic that either A) I'm a complete idiot who can't locate a part on the machine or B) The directions are for the wrong machine. Finally, I let the video continue, where the narrator now begins to say (in a somewhat condescending tone, I feel), "If your machine looks like this" (video cuts to a shot of what my sewing machine looks like) "simply place the thread in this groove." In other words, if you bought the cheaper model, you need to do some extra work.

So this extra step can't be that complicated, right? Well, the only problem appears to be that the DVD wants me to put the bobbin thread through a final invisible groove that doesn't exist. There's also a picture on the machine itself, demonstrating how the thread should look if it's been put in correctly. After failing to locate anything that remotely resembles a groove, I place the thread is where the groove should be (trying to make the angle look the same as the one printed on the machine). I decide to move on to threading the top thread.

This is a much easier process than putting in the bobbin, mostly because there are numbers and lines with arrows indicating where I should put the thread first, second, and so on. There's even a fancy do-dad that threads the needle for me! How awesome is that! Now, the video informs me, since I have the inferior model, I must debase myself by combining the bobbin thread and the top thread myself. If only I'd purchased a more expensive model, all of these tricky steps would be done for me by the machine. But seeing as how this was a wedding gift, there's nothing I can do about it. This is the model I asked for on my registry because I didn't feel right asking for a sewing machine that cost more than our sofa. So let's combine those threads!

Hmmmm . . . easier said than done, instructional DVD. I turn the hand crank to make the needle move up and down, which is supposed to grab the bobbin thread from the compartment below. That is, it would grab the bobbin thread if only I'd put it in the correct place. Things start to get a little tangled inside the bobbin compartment, so I unsnarl everything gently and try again. This time, however, I place the bobbin in what has to be the right place.

Nope, wrong again. I get another tangled wad of thread, only this time, it won't untangle very easily. I'm trying to be gentle, but I end up tugging harder and harder, until something snaps. Now I see three threads instead of two. That can't be good. Even worse than that, my new extra piece of thread, which is sprouting from metal gears, is not budging. I get the bobbin and it's thread completely removed from the machine, then I get the top thread removed, yet there's still a random bit of thread where no thread should be. There's another second of panic. Did I just break my brand new sewing machine without even using it? Should I call the hotline begging for help? I decide to go the lazy route, and just ignore it, assuming it will come out with the other thread when I use the machine correctly.

I rethread everything, and finally coax the bobbin thread out in the right spot. I'm ready to sew! I've got some fabric remnants that I've cut into rectangles to make pillows, so let's get cracking!

The sewing process itself is pretty anticlimactic. The first time I make a seam, it comes out all wonky and lumpy on one side. Luckily, the video has forewarned be that such a disaster may occur. All I need to do remedy the problem is rethread the top thread (the easy one). Once that's fixed, it's all smooth sailing, and smooth sewing. I'm impressed with how straight my seams appear to be down each side. I know the basics of pillow making, so I've got the two pieces of fabric turned inside out. When there's above 3 or 4 inches left to sew up, I stop, using the U-turn button on my machine move back and forth to secure the stitches.

Now comes the boring part. I turn the pillowcase inside out, and stuff. And stuff. And stuff. And when I can't stuff anything else, I stuff a tiny bit more. Amazing! It looks and feels like a real pillow, except for the gaping hole that I need to close up. I think I'm supposed to sew it up by hand, but what do I have this fancy machine for? It's not just an enormous paper weight. I make an attempt to sew up the gap with the machine, which turns out pretty crooked and sad looking. Plus, there's a spot that simply too thick with stuffing and I don't want to risk breaking the machine by forcing it. So now I've only got about an inch that sew up by hand, which doesn't look too bad.

And here's the final product!

Please note, the lumpy, hand-stitched corner is intentionally not visible in this photo.

Overall, I'm fairly pleased with my work. I've got more of this fabric to make a second pillow, which means I don't have to figure out how to rethread everything yet. I'm worried that my next attempt to combine the bobbin thread and the top thread will take me longer, as I seemed to stumble across it by dumb luck. I think I'll research some better techniques on finishing up the pillow. By which I mean I will literally Google "How do I make a pillow?"

Sew long, farewell!

Why am I starting this blog?

"Everybody's doing it!" Writing a blog, that is. Am I just submitting to Internet peer pressure? Did all my Facebook "friends" persuade me that all the cool kids have their own blogs nowadays?

If I'm being totally honest, I have this fantasy that my life will end up like the infamous Julie Powell, wealthy and well-known from having her own blog published in a novel and transformed into a glamorous film. As an English major (with an emphasis in Creative Writing), there is always the hope in the back of my mind that someday I'll be a famous author. I'm constantly tucking away stories in my mind that I will one day use in my New York Times Bestseller. I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen with this blog, but it will be an interesting way to record my latest venture into the domestic sphere: sewing.

Let me quickly recap my life for you: I got married 6 months ago, we moved into our first house 8 months ago, and I made significant progress in my attempt to get a classroom teaching job by landing a part-time reading instructor job at an elementary school. All of my "mothering" instincts are in full bloom. Minus the baby part, of course.

And I already know how to bake and cook (though, admittedly, not to Julia Childs' standards).

So I've got free time each weekday afternoon, a husband and 2 cats to take care of, and a brand-spanking new Singer 7442 (one of my favorite wedding presents). In this blog, I'm going to record how I learn to sew.

Now, I've no ambition to be on Project Runway, and I'm not sure that I'm going to create a whole new wardrobe for myself, but sewing seems like a useful hobby to have. And now, at the ripe old age of 25, I've got the time and the motivation to master using my own sewing machine. I have rudimentary skills in using a sewing machine. As a child, my mother sewed costumes for myself and my sister, as well as dolls clothes and curtains. I made a few attempts at sewing some things myself, but I always cheated by making my mom set up the sewing machine for me. I would cut out the fabric and put my foot down on the pedal. She did all the hard stuff for me, mainly threading the machine (which will be my first objective in this task).

Once I've figured out how to thread the machine, and use it, I've a couple projects in mind to sew. I'll start out real basic with a square pillow. I've already got some remnant fabric (leftover fabric which the store doesn't have enough of to sell by the yard) that I got for cheap at Joann, some batting (or stuffing), and this totally cool sewing starter kit by Singer! I'll post a picture so you can see it in all it's glory. It comes with everything you need to sew things (since I'm starting from scratch), including pins, scissors, and tons of thread! The thread is the most important thing, since I was worried that I'd have to spend $100 on spools of thread in order to have enough. Using the sewing machine requires more that a tiny sewing kit's worth of thread; that much, I do know. My fingers are crossed that everything is good quality since it's made by Singer.

So, I'm off to watch the instructional DVD that came with the sewing machine. How cool is that? I don't have to stare at the instruction manual and try to decipher it as I sew my fingers together! I intend to watch the entire DVD with the utmost care. And then go on YouTube if I still can't figure out how to thread the machine.

Sew long until next time! (wink wink, nudge nudge)