Tag Archives: #sewing

Strip and strap on

Got anyone’s curiousity up? Got anything else up?

Well, sorry. No explicit content despite the hints. Just some explanatory content:

As may be discernible this is the top par of a pair of (short) pants and five strips of material before they went on those shorts as belt straps.

The shorts belong to my eldest daughter. The one wearing a fault patterned sweater in an earlier post. She likes colours, which is lucky for me because I made a blunder cutting these shorts, laying the pattern pieces the wrong way on the material. Which meant there was too little and I had to add on. The turqouise was left over from sewing another pair of pants and was okayed by her.

The irony is that I could have done without those gussets. Because skinny as she is the shorts proved a bit too big for her. Since her belt was apt at slipping she asked for straps.

I dug out pink-and-white scraps as well as turqouise. Colour-loving that she is she went for the latter. And I got the joint pleasures of using up a long strip and improving her shorts.

Now if we could just get the heat of summer back, everything would be good.

The Seventh year stitch(es)

Yes I know full well I’ve been at it before. And now I’m at it again: Scouting. Well it’s just a sign that it takes up a lot of mental room. Hardly surprising since I have this proof of just how long time ago I first donned my blue uniform:


7 years in blue. And ridiculously proud to show it. As a girl I was in the YWCA for 6 years. And no that doesn’t mean I should have a star saying 13 years on my pocket, which is where it’s sewn on. Because I’m in the non-denominational uni-sex Danish Scout Corps now.

And I think I’m ready for seven more years, one at a time. So is it much of a craft to sew on a small piece of material? Not really, though our uniforms are made of sturdy cotton woven the same way as denim.

What is a genuine craft is coming up with idea upon idea on how to train each girl and boy scouting skills, cooperation, cameraderie, how to overcome being homesick, pitching tents et c. And still keep up your own enthusiasm. OIt’s only possible because scouting is so wonderful it attracts other adults that become friends. Oh yes, I am SO ready for seven more years. Itching to get back to it all!


Tender ( and threadbare) is the night

Sigh. I seem to dress the family’s duvets in worn-out covers of late with the result that my younger daughter (oddly enough always her) comes to me for another after few nights. Because it rips open.

Two were turned into shirts. Two others were turned into PJ’s. This one is different though:


Not so much because it’s older than the others. But because there’s time embedded in it. The blotchy pattern is an experiment I made with thinned-out textile paint dripped and splashed onto fabric. The faint and wavering purple line to the left is embroidered. I spent time making that duvet cover.

I spent even more time including some very good time under it. I made it when I moved away from home to a so-called kollegium, a Danish near-equivalent of a dorm except it’s not necessarily on a campus, there’s no room mate system and you don’t have to move home for long vacations.

It was there I met my boyfriend / later husband, there I made friends for life ( I hope!) There I battled memory, learning skills, rotten economy, got myself terribly drunk after exams and generally enjoyed life to the most. It was on my bed with this cover friends would sit and share my G&T’s to talk through nights of plans and harebrained schemes. And it’s all associated closely to this cover. We had shared laundry room with washers and a dryer, no place to air-dry anything, and so it would at regular intervals leave its duvet stuffing, go in the washer followed by the dryer to get stuffed again with the duvet. And a dryer does add to the wear of clothes, including bedclothes.

Which means the rip is no surprise. The rest is more or less as worn as where the rip appeared. The sensible thing to do would be to just throw it into one of those Red Cross containers.

Feelings aren’t sensible. There must be some way to use this. I can’t let it go. Not yet.


Pax Vobiscum

Nostalgia can take on a lot of different forms. One of the things I miss even in the midst of several TV-channels and a range of DVDs is the national broadcasting corporation showing classic American movies Saturday or Sunday afternoon. One of them was the old version of “Robin Hood” starring Erroll Flynn. I seem to remember there was something about a fool in monk’s attire who is used to divert attention. However, even IMDB tells me nothing of a fool.

All the Latin he manages to learn for his part are the words of the headline: Pax Vobiscum.munkekutter

These two scout friends of mine may know as little. After all, she’s a geographer, he’s a computer-something-or-other. But this Saturday they were a nun and a monk at a regional scouts’ tournament. And I am proud to say I helped the geographer make those costumes with the man acting as model.

Down with the bedclothes, up with the night shirt

No, we don’t like wicked Uncle Ernie or anyone like him. He’s a sick pervert who causes awful pain and damage.

What I at least do like is re-use. Or recycling. Some posts ago I wrote about converting two torn duvet covers into PJs for my daughter. This time there was only one duvet cover with a tear in it at the top. My daughter said no to another PJ, and since it was a white cover of rather nice material I instead dug out my trusty book on Danish peasants’ shirts from 1750-1850. Since that was a time of hand-weaving, which takes a very long time, the patterns are basically geometry excercises along the lines “how to shape something wearable outof only rectangles and squares”.

Cut out and laid out it looks like this:


Apologies for the fuzzy snap. There are two body rectangles, two sleeve rectangles, two yoke rectangles, a collar rectangle and two cuff rectangles + four gusset squares. There is practically no spill this way, and therefore I can get two long-sleeve shirts on that single duvet cover. One is almost done:


The cover was inherited from my mother-in-law. I guess it serves its due.

Oh and who is this Ernie character?! Well – who indeed. A fictitious character, something as abominable as a pedophile. From the rock opera “tommy” by – The Who

Ceci n’est pas une door handle

Nor, for that matter, is it a loft ladder:


I’m not particularly proud of these gloves. My defense is they’re made of thinsulate, which is completely unwieldy and – just to top it – has a strong tendency to come apart in tis three layers while you work with it.

The reason I almost call them a doorhandle is my nephew who is a carpenter. And he has cold hands in the morning because work gloves are either too thin to really keep his hands warm or too thick to actually work with. My idea was thar thinsulate just might work as undergloves because it’s thin AND warm at the same time.

The handle on my daughter’s door is playing up. And he promised to fix it and possibly extre-fasten her loft ladder in return for these gloves.

Nepotistic trading economy. You gotta love it.

Five to the longest second

5 i anden

This has taken me forever to finish. It’s spent a lot of time lying idle, but even in efficient time I spent hours on it. Because everything is hand-sewn.

It’s also a bit of math. Within the same size square i patched 1X1, 2X2, 3X3, 4X4 and finally 5X5. That’s a LOT of patches; the corners alone consist of 100 tiny patches in all.

Taht said I really like the effect. It could be expanded to xXx given sufficient patience, nerdery and of course material. The one thing to calculate is the fact that it grows fast.

Just one more would necessitate larger squares – the smallest patches are just 1X1 cm; really small – plus two more squares on each side. The number of patches more or less expplodes when going up just a single size.

I could still imagine this pattern turned into a bed spread. It would be time to learn to patch on machine, I think.