B is for...

 

      Drawing 786

 Drawing 787

Drawing 788 

 Drawing 789

Drawing 790

Double Eagle

Drawing 781

 Drawing 782

Drawing 783

  Drawing 784

 Drawing 785

Feathered follies

Drawing 776

Drawing 777

d

Drawing 778

Drawing 779

Drawing 780

Doin' the safety dance

Another length of fabric transformed into something wearable, even if I do glow in the dark whilst wearing it. I'd kind of forgotten quite how bright an orange this piece of cotton voile was, but I still like it. More slow stitching with french seams and fifteen (yep fifteen!) buttons down the closure - a feature, donchaknow (yes, I needed a feature, as if the colour didn't already scream "Look at me! Look at me!"). The buttons all came out of the button box, which I'm beginning to believe has similar qualities to the TARDIS. I'm not sure where they came from and there may even be more little orange buttons in there, but fifteen seemed a reasonable number at which to stop looking. Even slow stitching, I suspect my patience would have worn thin had I needed to make another buttonhole. Though my Janome does make a nice automatic buttonhole, I must say.

I'd also forgotten, or never took any notice, that voile is, um, kinda fine. This means it will be cool in the (almost over, hurrah) southern summer, but it also means it's a little translucent. And guess who doesn't currently have a flesh toned brassiere? It turns out that black, or blue, or red undergarments are highly visible under voile. Even fluoro orange voile. I do have a camisole, though, so all is not lost.

I am pleased with the way all the buttons look. Funny aside: when I was stitching the buttons under the buttonholes, I finished number fourteen and couldn't find the final button. Hmmm, whatever could I have done with it? I could've sworn there were fifteen originally (I almost always use an odd number). Not on the table near the machine. Not on the floor. Don't think a cat would've swallowed it (and if a cat did swallow it, I don't think I want it back). I figured it would turn up. Or not. Wouldn't be the first time I've been missing the bottom button on a shirt.

It turned up - the next time I used the machine I took the buttonhole foot off and, lo and behold, there is the fifteenth button, still in the little gripper doodad that tells the machine how long to make the buttonhole. Duh!

Huntin', shootin' 'n' fishin'

I'm not really into the whole huntin', shootin', fishin' thing as such, but I find myself strangely attracted to images from that (probably) imaginary world that I loved so much in novels of the early twentieth century, that seemingly quintessentially English world of grand houses and weekend parties that always featured a hunt. Or Agatha Christie's stories of English drawing rooms and high body counts. This tablecloth came from Dandenong Savers for the princely sum of $4 (after Sunday student discount). I think it's printed damask, a nice weight.

I'm not sure if I'll keep it as a tablecloth, or treat it as fabric (as I do many of my op shop treasures - I gravitate instantly towards the textiles, and then the books) and transform it into a garment. It would make a great skirt or blouse, if I can creatively cut it to use as much of the pattern as possible.

Mixed bunch

Drawing 771

 Drawing 772

Drawing 773

  Drawing 774

 Drawing 775

Oi, I'm trying to sleep!

"Oi, I'm trying to sleep here!"

Note that Bel chooses to sleep on the colour that best sets off her beautiful jet black coat. That's a lime green sari I'm refashioning into a tunic. She likes to curl up on the end of it while I'm actually putting it through the sewing machine.

"Perhaps if I ignore her, she'll go away."

"Perhaps if I wash the vulgar bits, THEN she'll go away."

"I shall kill you in your sleep. And eat your liver."

"Right, that's it, I'm outta here."