I wrote a post with the same title--
"Tweaking"--over at CreateMixedMedia.com this week. This isn't the same post; this is about my own adventures in tweaking, but you might want to read that one first. Or not. They don't have much to do with each other except they're about my current thought obsession (as opposed to my other, main obsession: creating this wardrobe by hand).
So. Where I am with this right now: trying to create one master pattern for each garment I want to make in multiples. There are some things in which I have no interest--the hat, the t-shirt, regular tank tops--most of the tops, in fact. I don't need those. I have approximately 1 gazillion tanks tops (maybe 50? hard to count that high) in every possible color, and about the same number of t-shirts in varying sleeve lengths. Let's be honest: I do not even want to know how many cotton jersey shirts I have if you include everything from tanks to long-sleeved t's. Some I dyed, some I bought in colors I liked. When they're on sale, I fill in the gaps so I have multiples in the colors I wear all the time. In the summer, these tanks are my staple. And, yeah, I know I'm supposed to be thinking about covering my upper arms because it's what other women my age talk about all the time, and no, my arms aren't any different from theirs. But you know, I don't give a crap about that, and here's why, a story I've told before: We had a friend years and years ago who taught math. She was gorgeous and elegant, a very fashionable dresser (think lovely high-end linen sheaths with pearls and high-heeled sandals). She was telling us about standing at the chalkboard one late-spring day, explaining a math problem to her students and looking down and noticing the flesh of her upper arm moving as her hand moved across the board and becoming entranced--and horrified--as she watched it and then looking up and noticing all her 9th-grade students watching her watch her arm and become horrified themselves. And she said that was the last time she ever wore anything sleeveless. We laughed. A couple years later she died of ovarian cancer. I don't think she was even 40 yet. And I think about how silly it is for us to worry about sagging upper arms and to avoid wearing things we like because of it in a life that's way, way too short for those kinds of worries.
But. The issue with tank tops is that while I'm fine at home and outdoors, if I go into Starbucks or the grocery store or anywhere else where *I* don't set the temperature? I totally freeze. I know other people like it colder than I do--way, way colder--but it seems so silly to keep huge stores set at 65 in the summer in West Texas, where it's often over 100 degrees and even 75 would feel refreshingly cool by comparison. But no. So I carry some kind of sweater or wrap with me everywhere. The EGE freezes, too--one more reason we get on so well--and there are always a couple of sweatshirts in the back of the SUV.
So: all this to say that one of the things I want to make in many, many multiples is the bolero, which Alabama Chanin sells for $265 in its plain, unembellished form. That will be another post, though, as this is about tweaking another pattern.
While I have tons of tanks, I want something longer, tunic length, that fits loose at the bottom. You may remember that I started out with the Alabama Chanin basic t-shirt, with no sleeves.
I changed the pattern some because I don't like necklines near my throat. I don't remember what else I did to it, but I tweaked it a little.
What I failed to do, as you may remember, was check the size. I made it in a medium, and it was so snug I couldn't even get it on Ricë. So I cut it up and front and back and added a center panel. Now it fits, but it's dorky and shapeless, and I doubt I'll ever wear it.
Look at that. That's just hideously unattractive. Bleah. I can't believe I even finished it--but of course I did, as this was all an experiment to figure out where to go next.

For the next attempt, I used the fitted top pattern, the one you can make in any length from a tank top to a floor-length dress. I like the center seam and the lower neck, but I raised the neckline a little. Not enough, alas. This is how it turned out. It's so low in the front that there's no way your bra is not going to show. Plus the pattern, which the book says is designed to "give your bust a boost" or something like that, is just weird. I don't know how it's supposed to boost your bust. All it does on me is gap open at the center, and the neckline is so wide the straps won't stay on my shoulders. To make the neckline not pucker, the straps need to be pulled out another inch to the sides, but Ricë and I are not made that way. I have broad shoulders, but I am not a fullback for any major football team. Nor do I play one on tv.
So tacky.
Please.
But I love it with the first bolero (more about that later):
So what I do is turn it around backwards and wear it that way: the back neckline is higher than in the front, and there's not that supposedly-bust-boosting extra fabric, and this works--although the armholes are still wonky and stick out in an odd way.
So much nicer, yes?
On the next one I trimmed the center seam to remove the part that's supposed to "boost the bust" and trimmed the pattern under the arms, as well. Much better, but still a little bagginess in the center front.
See where it wrinkles right there?
I haven't stitched the bottom trim in place--I plan to stitch and bead that part but wanted to keep tweaking the pattern and get that right before I stopped and started doing more handwork.
More tweaking before I made this last one, which I just finished this morning. It was made from a NY something (Yankees or something-else-I-can't-remember; The EGE keeps telling me and I keep forgetting. All I know is the Yankees) t-shirt. I wanted to see if I could incorporate the logo into some design, and this is what I did:
The dark blue t-shirt is thick and soft, and the black t-shirt was average. I hate thin t-shirts. I think they're tacky, like cheap nylon or something. I'm learning as I collect the shirts from Goodwill. Some will go back, now that I've started working with them and can really tell the difference in quality.
It hangs a lot better when I'm wearing it over jeans. Ricë, alas, has no legs.
I loved this project even though I got stumped for almost a week trying to decide what to do with the bottom. After I got the skyline sewn in place, I had several ideas:
1) Add beads for the windows. I thought about black bugle beads, which would look like windows at night, or deep yellowish-gold bugles for lighted windows, maybe making some gold and some black. Or ever clear or white ones. The problem with this idea--and the reason I ultimately rejected it--is that it would require spacing and much tedious placement, possibly measuring and/or counting. And as you know, I don't go there. I could see myself becoming more and more obsessed about the placement of the "windows" until I drove myself nuts. It would look fabulous, but it just wasn't worth it.
2) Then I thought about creating the rivers along the bottom with black and/or gunmetal bugle beads and dark stitching for slight waves. That didn't seem to go with the graphic stitching around the edges of the buildings, though--it seemed to be a whole other mood. It would have provided a nice weight to the bottom, though.
3) Stitching text all around the bottom--maybe the story of our trip to Manhattan and the book signing and wandering around the city for three days with Wendy. Maybe just words--I could get The EGE to help me come up with a bunch of evocative words. This would be time-consuming, though, and I haven't yet perfected a way of transferring marks to cotton jersey. Pencils stretch it. I trace patterns with thin bars of soap (thanks, y'all, for that idea!). But lots of words? On black jersey? Eh. And since I haven't actually even WORN the top yet, I don't want to spend hours and hours more on it. It may not actually be perfect after all, and so I'll wait.
But I loved making this because I can see that I'm getting closer to where I want to go. Someone mentioned last week that the Alabama Chanin style is just about appliqué and stencils and beads, and that's true for the AC style. While I love some of the really heavily embellished pieces and hope to make similar ones of my own at some point, that's not really what my project is about. I don't want an Alabama Chanin wardrobe, where people could look at it and go, "Oh, you're wearing Alabama Chanin!" What's appealing to me about this--what's got me obsessed--isn't about doing things the way they do them; it's about taking the technique--stitching cotton jersey entirely by hand--and seeing where I can go. Images. Graphic designs. Color. Text. Journal garments. The ability to do that on really sturdy comfortable garments--as opposed to denim, which doesn't give, or linen, which is good but won't make a comfortable top (I don't like shirts; I like knit tops that don't bind across my shoulders)--is completely entrancing. And to do it with recycled t-shirts and to show people that you can do that and make fabulous things you love? Well.
Yesterday I tweaked the pattern one more time--a tiny bit more fullness across the chest, nip in a little at the waist, flare out more at the hips--when I wore the red one to dinner with friends, she said the thing she liked best about it was that it had a shape, unlike most tank tops, and I thought about that and realized that's what makes it worth making more of; otherwise, if I wanted something shapeless, I could just wear the tanks I have already. And I made it from a XXX-large t-shirt to get it as long as possible. I'm getting to the point where I'm going to have to buy some yardage. I can piece recycled t-shirts together to make knee-length dresses, and I plan to do that eventually, but I don't want to go to that much effort while I'm still trying to get all the proportions right. I don't want to do a ton of work until I'm sure it fits the way I want it to with no pulling or gapping. On these longer tops, I don't want them to hang straight down because then they'll constrict my movement and they'll be shapeless, like that first one up there. On the other hand, I don't want a huge bell-shaped flare, either. And because I have no real sewing background, it's impossible for me to look at a pattern and know how it will fit. Plus I've discovered that the photos of a garment in the Alabama Chanin books are no guarantee, either. The models are models, after all. They have no real shape (and no bras that need to be covered by shirts, either). And the pieces in the book are not exactly like the patterns, if you look closely. The armholes have other treatments, some pieces have more seams. Creating a perfect master pattern is, indeed, an adventure. And one problem is that, with each incarnation, I get further and further away from the pattern provided in the book, meaning that if I lose the last pattern I made, I have no idea what tweaks I did to get there. Yikes. I've taken to numbering the patterns and saving them all for reference. When I get The Perfect Pattern, I can toss all the others and go from there.
So that's what I've been up to over here. And although this post isn't about My Bolero Adventure, I'll show you one photo (OK, two) of the second one I've made. The first one, the red one up above, is still being embellished. I love it, and so this second one is a little more complex. So far it's stenciled and has reverse appliqué. Today I'm going to add some regular appliqué, and then I'm going to begin stitching and beading. I know it could stay like it is, but I'm not of the Less is More School; I'm of the More is Never Enough School, and I'm happy there.
So I've got this to work on this weekend, plus I'm appliquéing a bunch of The EGE's t-shirts--that's a whole nother post--and I've got another bolero cut out and ready to start, the longer fitted top ditto, the sea green and turquoise one to stitch, the purple poncho with all the x's to stitch, the pink-and-fuchsia poncho to stitch--and I want to cut out at least one more thing to work on. Yikes.
Did I say obsessed?
I hope all y'all have something equally as compelling to work on this weekend--there's really nothing better. Sitting on the front porch with The EGE, stitching while he reads the paper and we talk and watch the birds? Pretty much as good as it gets~~
Thanks for coming by~~
XO