Waste not...

As mentioned previously, there is something addictively productive about sewing little peoples' clothing. It seems to whip itself up on its own - I almost feel like Arthur in The Sword in the Stone (Disney, of course) whilst the dishes are rubbity, scrubbety-ing themselves. Slight exaggeration perhaps. Nonetheless, the satisfaction of finishing the almost perfect shirt in so little time and the realisation that the leftover fabric would be perfectly suited for small somethings for twins born late 2009 led me to make a little dress for C. (adapted from the sailboat top pattern) and a a button-down (from this pattern) for O.

The search for the perfect shirt and ensuing revelation

A few weeks ago I began a search for L's christening outfit: a perfect light cotton dress shirt, preferably with a band collar and buttons only part way down the front, culotte shorts and a knit vest. This endeavour confirmed my suspicion that the more detailed the idea one has in one's head of the sought objects the less likely it is that said objects will actually exist*. Sad and discouraged, I began searching online for patterns in order to make said outfit. That is when I discovered oliver + s patterns**. So, I purchased this one and this one. I then headed down to Britex and bought some lovely shirting cotton. The plan was to use the first pattern to make the shirt and the adapt the shorts from the second to create the desired culottes. The little sailboat top seemed like a nice, sweet stand-in for the perfect shirt of my imagination.

The sewing began, ended, and a revelation was had: making little people's clothing is great and fast (and possibly addictive). It is almost instant gratification. I love it. This has led to a frenzy. More to follow.

* If I am perfectly honest, the "perfect" shirt did indeed exist. Bonpoint makes it but I could not ever justify spending this much on an article of clothing that will get less than 6 months wear and runs a very reasonable risk of quickly aquiring indelible berry or chocolate stains.

** their dress patterns make me wish we had a daughter too.

What we do

A funny thing has happened in the past year.

I began recording and posting the things I make as a way to counter my general feeling of, for lack of a better word (though I am certain there is one, it is just not coming to me), "uselessness" faced with being a first-time stay-at-home parent. Let me explain. I feel it is a rare privilege to be able to spend your child's first months, or years, by his/her side. It is difficult for me to imagine what it would have been like to return to work when L was a couple of months old and miss out on the changes each day brings. That said, my "troubles" started when showering and getting dressed were no longer major achievements. There began the limbo in between active and "useless" - thus was born the need to "do something". I felt the days and the weeks rush by, and became anxious and irritable. Professional and scholarly projects were on hold, waiting for better - or at least more predictable, organisable - days. Knitting, sewing and just "making stuff" has occupied my spare time for years (usually to the sound of some French political or cultural talk show that I might have argued back at - or to Ugly Betty when morale was low). The beauty of this stuff-making was that not only did it provide me with a creative outlet, but most often the "stuff" was for the loveliest people around me (and their lovely little ones): Christmas and birthday gifts (often belated) were born in my spare time, and the pleasure associated with working on them never lessened. A year ago it seemed perfectly logical that I might again begin making stuff in an effort to fight back at the fleeting months and prove to myself that I had in fact done something: each photographed and posted project brought a little beam of pride that boosted morale, as did the moment each little package was posted off. Nonetheless, I considered this all a spare time "bubble" - one that would undoubtedly eternally remain separate from the real world and my real life as a designer/PhD student. Until recently.

After a number of frustrating jobs in graphic design, I was seriously considering abandoning its practice to focus solely on its theory. A few months ago a very close friend asked me for a favor: could I submit some design ideas for his wedding invite. Having previously designed two (including my own), one of which resulted in a small fiasco/misunderstanding - now referred to as the "unfortunate hand painted vine leaves" incident - my enthusiasm was low. One lazy, procrastination-filled afternoon, sometime near tax season, I began doodling up ideas, then a burst of energy (or more procrastination) led me to try one out on my computer. And that is how the IRS is a tiny bit responsible for the faire part* pictured above. Which might also make them a tiny bit responsible for the unexpected insight this"small" project brought me. For the past 6 years my approach to graphic design was flawed: I expected satisfaction to come from big famous clients and from peer recognition (thanks to aforementioned big famous projects). No longer. I have learned that I enjoy the process of creating something only as much as I enjoy knowing how much the person it was destined for appreciates it. I thought design bliss was being the author of a national theater poster lauded in one of the prominent publications, instead I know now that I got closer to it designing a lovely couple's wedding invite. Less it is, then.

*Yet again, in my opinion, the french expression which literally means "make part" is superior to its English counterpart.

The request

"a big soft sweater to wear to brunch, please"

This was his (the loveliest of lovely husbands) request, made sometime in October (maybe earlier, but no witnesses were present). In fact, the mere projected making of this particular sweater was responsible for my accidentally revealing the super secret destination of our anniversary weekend getaway (which is perhaps why it took me so long to make the thing - deep down inside, I resented it) by mentioning a trip to Purl.

I don't think I actually cast on the first stitches until January (perhaps later, again, no witnesses) due to substantial difficulty in finding a satisfactory pattern. It was my first effort using double pointed needles and circular needles, and though the former are a little tricky at first, the latter provide a very practical alternative to "normal" needles. This is especially true if you are a travelling knitter because their size makes you less dependent on the TSA agent's "judgement" as to whether or not your knitting poses a security threat and they allow you to knit, even in a middle seat, without constantly poking your fellow passengers. Safe and considerate.

The finished garment was finally ready to serve its master in may, and he seems most satisfied with it. I must admit that I quite like it too, so much so in fact that I am making myself my own in a slightly smaller size. Judging from how long it took to finish the first one, my big soft sweater to wear to brunch might see the day for some Christmas leftovers.

n°98

According to a local magazine, there are 100 things to eat & drink in SF before you die. We feel like it's an appropriate hommage to the city to try to eat/drink them all before we move. So today, we kicked off "the challenge" with n°98: bloody mary w/ brunch at Foreign Cinema.

Scrumptious.

ps. Yet again, my celery theory was proven reliable: only a perfect, crisp celery stalk may garnish a superior bloody mary. It's a question of respect really.

Bunny

no minute like the last one...

A last minute trip to France has forced me to confront the bad, procrastinating and often therefore late-with-gifts crafter within (although admitedly, in my case, the oh-i'll-do-it-later syndrome does not only apply to making stuff ). So this weekend, at the same time i should have been tending to a million other things i should have done recently, i whipped up a blanket for baby J, a little bunny for baby A and got started on a penguin for baby T. All of these gifts should have been made at least a month ago (if not 6 months ago in J's case) but better late than not at all, non?

Bunny & penguin photos to follow...