And now for something completely different...
My husband and I recently made a huge decision. We are ready, really ready, to start a family. I don't want to get in to too many personal details - this isn't that kind of blog - but the short version is: we've decided to start adoption paperwork. We discussed adoption as a way to grow our family long before we got to the point where it was a viable option, and adoption was always a part of our family plan. We assumed we'd have some kind of blended family, and so far, that's still the "plan". Well, as much as anything like this can actually be planned. I'm sure any parent will tell you that once your child enters your life, all your carefully made "plans" fly right out the window. I can't wait!
So, we decided to jump in with both feet and start the adoption process. It takes a long time, and we're at the very beginning, but since it's something we always wanted to do, why not start now? There are myriad details left to work out. Private adoption vs. agency, International vs. domestic. Once we choose an agency and start the home study process, I think we'll have a more concrete plan about the wherefores and how-tos, and presumably, the social worker assigned to our case will help us figure those things out.
The crafter in me is already brainstorming themes for a child's room. Will it be elves and dwarves and dragons? Will it be Steampunk? Will it be wizards and witches and magic wands? So many options! In general, I love craft projects that revolve around kids - they are usually faster projects, though they can get really involved. But you can also explore a whole range of themes that is usually left out of adult projects - except maybe on Halloween.
It will likely be a year, or longer, before we bring home the new addition to our family, but you will start seeing a lot more craft projects geared towards children in the coming months. I'm trying to balance my unbridled enthusiasm and excitement with the reality check that this is a waiting game. But I am so excited to start this new chapter of our lives, and I wanted to tell the whole world. So, I figured I'd start with my little corner of the Internet. If anyone has been through the process or has some tips or advice to share, please feel free to contact me! I'd love to hear your story!
22 November 2010
15 November 2010
To quilt or not to quilt...
As you may know, I love quilting. As you may also know, I have an ancient sewing machine. I guess, technically speaking, it's not "antique" ancient, but it's from the 70's. And while it's a perfectly serviceable sewing machine in most respects, there are some things that I find extremely difficult to accomplish with said machine. Like quilting.
Sewing fabric together, in general, is a task my machine can handle. But once you get more than two pieces of fabric in there, you really have to muscle it around to get it to sew properly. And starting at the edge of the fabric usually results in bunching and occasionally some tearing. It's not a pretty sight.
So, like I said, I can sew quilt tops together pretty easily. Some of the more complicated blocks get, well, complicated to sew because of the bunching problem, but all in all, it's a fairly manageable task. Actually quilting the thing is another story altogether... Quilting involves layering the top, the batting and the backing together like a quilt sandwich and basting to hold them roughly in place while you sew through all 3 layers. Quilt bats come in a variety of materials and thicknesses, but I tend to favor fairly thin, organic cotton bats. When I get all three layers together under the needle, I have to grip and pull pretty hard to get the fabric to move through together. Usually, a walking foot is all that is needed to accomplish this task. A walking foot will help keep the bottom fabric moving along with the top fabric. I have a walking foot, but that doesn't seem to solve the problem. I think the main issue is that my machine was designed to darn socks and sew clothes, but not to quilt. The short answer to the problem is that I need a new machine.
Which brings me to my main issue for the day: I have a quilt top that I sewed and love, and gave as a gift to my husband on our second anniversary - well, our second dating anniversary. So I've had this quilt top finished and waiting to be made into a beautiful bed cover for 4 years now, but I was afraid that if I quilted it myself, I'd ruin it. I've quilted on that machine before, but I get little areas where the fabric hasn't move along the way it should and bunches up. I did not want that to happen with this top, so I took it to my local quilt shop to have it professionally quilted with a long arm quilting machine. I've seem this woman's work before and I know the top will come out beautiful, but I'm still feeling a bit of guilt over it. I mean, I picked out the fabric, I sewed the top together, I cut the binding strips and sewed them together, and I picked out the batting and backing fabric. She is going to put it all together, quilt and bind it. So can I still say that I made the quilt? I always feel like I need a bunch of caveats - like "I made the top, but I had it professionally quilted."
On the one hand I feel like it's cheating a bit to have it professionally quilted, but on the other hand I know that a) it's going to be beautiful, b) the actual quilting step is difficult and requires both time and skill, and c) many quilters send most or all of their tops to be professionally quilted. Particularly for quilts entered in contests and such. So maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself for sending my top to be professionally done. I don't have to do every single bit of the project in order for it to be "mine". I'm not growing the cotton, or dying it, after all. And, if nothing else, I'm supporting a small business, right?
Anyone else want to weigh in?
Sewing fabric together, in general, is a task my machine can handle. But once you get more than two pieces of fabric in there, you really have to muscle it around to get it to sew properly. And starting at the edge of the fabric usually results in bunching and occasionally some tearing. It's not a pretty sight.
So, like I said, I can sew quilt tops together pretty easily. Some of the more complicated blocks get, well, complicated to sew because of the bunching problem, but all in all, it's a fairly manageable task. Actually quilting the thing is another story altogether... Quilting involves layering the top, the batting and the backing together like a quilt sandwich and basting to hold them roughly in place while you sew through all 3 layers. Quilt bats come in a variety of materials and thicknesses, but I tend to favor fairly thin, organic cotton bats. When I get all three layers together under the needle, I have to grip and pull pretty hard to get the fabric to move through together. Usually, a walking foot is all that is needed to accomplish this task. A walking foot will help keep the bottom fabric moving along with the top fabric. I have a walking foot, but that doesn't seem to solve the problem. I think the main issue is that my machine was designed to darn socks and sew clothes, but not to quilt. The short answer to the problem is that I need a new machine.
On the one hand I feel like it's cheating a bit to have it professionally quilted, but on the other hand I know that a) it's going to be beautiful, b) the actual quilting step is difficult and requires both time and skill, and c) many quilters send most or all of their tops to be professionally quilted. Particularly for quilts entered in contests and such. So maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself for sending my top to be professionally done. I don't have to do every single bit of the project in order for it to be "mine". I'm not growing the cotton, or dying it, after all. And, if nothing else, I'm supporting a small business, right?
Anyone else want to weigh in?
14 November 2010
12 November 2010
On patterns and editing.
I'll admit it. This is a pet peeve.
There are literally thousands of resources available to the home crafter nowadays. You can find patterns in practically any media imaginable, from the Internet (hello Ravelry!) to magazines to independently produced single patterns. And not just knitting patterns - sewing (make your own corset!), quilting, cross stitch, the list goes on and on. Given the number of free patterns available, and given that I am experienced enough to make my own pattern in most (but definitely not all) cases, when I buy a pattern and pay actual money for it, it better be 1) awesome (it is or I wouldn't have bothered to buy it) and 2) tech edited. Pay special attention to 2). We're going to be discussing this at some length.
I also have some very definite opinions about the price points of patterns, particularly knitting patterns. I generally feel that small or easily constructed things (unless it's something new and clever) should be less expensive than something large or complicated. A cowl pattern, for example, should not cost as much as a sweater pattern. Some of this opinion may be based on garment size, but in general, a cowl is a fairly simplistic garment while a sweater isn't. Having said that, the more I pay for a pattern, the higher my expectations in terms of both ease of understanding and overall correctness in terms of editing.
Now, having a few years of knitting under my belt, I am continually shocked by the lack of editing in patterns. If I pay $8 for a pattern - which is a lot, by the way, especially for a child's garment - I expect the pattern to be correct. I will temper this rant somewhat by saying that we are all human and make mistakes, and I am very accepting of people who sell patterns and post errata on their websites. Errata = good. No errata plus a pattern full of mistakes? Bad. Very bad. If I purchase a pattern that is either unintelligible or poorly tech edited - or ::gasp:: both! - then not only am I pissed, but I am telling everyone I know who knits about it and I am never buying a pattern from that "designer" again. Not the quotation marks there. It's on purpose.
I recently purchased such a pattern - an absolutely adorable pattern that I was willing to shell out $8 for - rife with errors (sizing crochet hooks in cm rather than mm, incorrect stitch counts, inconsistent decreasing throughout the garment). Because the "designer" was kind enough to exchange several emails with me to try to help me understand her pattern, I won't name names, but all in all, while I find the garment to be absolutely adorable and unique, I will never purchase another pattern from her.
With an eye to the path ahead, where I will likely be coming up with my own patterns and designs, I am particularly critical of mistakes in patterns. And I'm becoming a much more discerning buyer of patterns as well. If I've downloaded a free pattern, I'm not going to complain too much. It was free after all. But if I pay you for a pattern, I expect you to have had it test knitted (or crocheted) by a third party, and edited for content! I mean seriously! You can't have your neighbor or sister or husband or whatever read your pattern to look for basic typos?! Come on people.
I am particularly frustrated by this lack of care recently because of said aforementioned pattern, but I really think it's a problem in general now that we have the Internet and Etsy and the like. Anyone can release anything under "Joe Smith Designs!" and get at least one or two people to purchase it. But I think it's incumbent upon all of us as consumers and crafters to demand better tech editing and to warn each other about bad designers. Or "designers" rather. Admittedly, I'm withholding the name of the designer I had an issue with, out of courtesy because she was so quick to respond to my queries. And also because I think that the Internet is a bit dangerous in that respect, in that you can basically anonymously slander anyone with or without just cause. Got a bit sidetracked there, but seriously, designers, edit your stuff!!
What do you think? Am I alone in this frustration or has everyone experienced the unedited pattern fiasco at some point?
There are literally thousands of resources available to the home crafter nowadays. You can find patterns in practically any media imaginable, from the Internet (hello Ravelry!) to magazines to independently produced single patterns. And not just knitting patterns - sewing (make your own corset!), quilting, cross stitch, the list goes on and on. Given the number of free patterns available, and given that I am experienced enough to make my own pattern in most (but definitely not all) cases, when I buy a pattern and pay actual money for it, it better be 1) awesome (it is or I wouldn't have bothered to buy it) and 2) tech edited. Pay special attention to 2). We're going to be discussing this at some length.
I also have some very definite opinions about the price points of patterns, particularly knitting patterns. I generally feel that small or easily constructed things (unless it's something new and clever) should be less expensive than something large or complicated. A cowl pattern, for example, should not cost as much as a sweater pattern. Some of this opinion may be based on garment size, but in general, a cowl is a fairly simplistic garment while a sweater isn't. Having said that, the more I pay for a pattern, the higher my expectations in terms of both ease of understanding and overall correctness in terms of editing.
Now, having a few years of knitting under my belt, I am continually shocked by the lack of editing in patterns. If I pay $8 for a pattern - which is a lot, by the way, especially for a child's garment - I expect the pattern to be correct. I will temper this rant somewhat by saying that we are all human and make mistakes, and I am very accepting of people who sell patterns and post errata on their websites. Errata = good. No errata plus a pattern full of mistakes? Bad. Very bad. If I purchase a pattern that is either unintelligible or poorly tech edited - or ::gasp:: both! - then not only am I pissed, but I am telling everyone I know who knits about it and I am never buying a pattern from that "designer" again. Not the quotation marks there. It's on purpose.
I recently purchased such a pattern - an absolutely adorable pattern that I was willing to shell out $8 for - rife with errors (sizing crochet hooks in cm rather than mm, incorrect stitch counts, inconsistent decreasing throughout the garment). Because the "designer" was kind enough to exchange several emails with me to try to help me understand her pattern, I won't name names, but all in all, while I find the garment to be absolutely adorable and unique, I will never purchase another pattern from her.
With an eye to the path ahead, where I will likely be coming up with my own patterns and designs, I am particularly critical of mistakes in patterns. And I'm becoming a much more discerning buyer of patterns as well. If I've downloaded a free pattern, I'm not going to complain too much. It was free after all. But if I pay you for a pattern, I expect you to have had it test knitted (or crocheted) by a third party, and edited for content! I mean seriously! You can't have your neighbor or sister or husband or whatever read your pattern to look for basic typos?! Come on people.
I am particularly frustrated by this lack of care recently because of said aforementioned pattern, but I really think it's a problem in general now that we have the Internet and Etsy and the like. Anyone can release anything under "Joe Smith Designs!" and get at least one or two people to purchase it. But I think it's incumbent upon all of us as consumers and crafters to demand better tech editing and to warn each other about bad designers. Or "designers" rather. Admittedly, I'm withholding the name of the designer I had an issue with, out of courtesy because she was so quick to respond to my queries. And also because I think that the Internet is a bit dangerous in that respect, in that you can basically anonymously slander anyone with or without just cause. Got a bit sidetracked there, but seriously, designers, edit your stuff!!
What do you think? Am I alone in this frustration or has everyone experienced the unedited pattern fiasco at some point?
09 November 2010
Steampunk, how I love thee.
Okay, so for the 5 people left on the interwebs who haven't heard of Steampunk, let me 'splain. No. There is too much. Let me sum up: it's a blend of goth/Victorian era style, plus gears, robots, pocket watches, chains. Throw in some balloons (hot air variety not helium) and dirigibles and you've got a basic idea. It's a pretty popular theme in Japanese Anime. Maybe it originated there? Can't swear to that but it seems plausible.
I am totally enamored with this style. Like, crazy in love with it. My style tastes really run the gamut, but two of my favorite themes are Asian influenced and gothic influenced. Steampunk definitely falls into the gothic influenced category, and since I watched Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland last night, I definitely have goth on the brain.
Cue me wasting hours on the internet looking up Steampunk related fashion, weddings, accessories and cakes. The end result? I am now convinced that I need to sew some Steampunk clothes. Yeah. It's like that.
I should preface this with the fact that while I own a sewing machine, it's old. Like 1972 Singer teaching model, old. I use the heck out of this machine to sew (and occasionally quilt) quilt tops, but it is not a user friendly machine. It's old and cranky and makes my hands hurt because I have to wrestle with the fabric. Another fact that bears mentioning: I have never sewn garments. Ever. I have *knitted* garments, but that is decidedly not the same. So what does this mean to my new Steampunk obsession?
That I've decided to sew my own corset, dress and bloomers, naturally.
Hear me out! In my defense, I have sketched no less than 3 separate designs this morning and bought a book on Amazon about how to construct a corset. First step in any new creative journey? BUY STUFF! I'm trying to decide what to do about fabrics and such, but I think I'm going to go to my local fabric store and try to find some scrap pieces so I can see how different layers will work together.
One of my favorite inspiration photos (courtesy of Jen at Epbot):
The bloomers plus ripped tights? Love it. Add a funky underbust corset, a frilly white shirt and some chains and I'm yours. Plus some distressed boots (leather-free, of course) to seal the deal.
There are tons more fun inspiration outfits on the Epbot blog, so definitely check it out. And incidentally, Jen also runs the infamous Cakewrecks website (which has made me snort liquid out my nose on more than one occasion) and featured some fantastic Steampunk cakes. These postings combined have really gotten my creative juices flowing. And possibly salivating...
In the process of sketching out the designs I have in my head, I have realized that I am not an artist... Hrm. I might work on that a bit as it could get costly to try to actually *make* all of these ideas. Particularly with my "skillz". Next stop: Googling "how to draw fashion designs".
I am totally enamored with this style. Like, crazy in love with it. My style tastes really run the gamut, but two of my favorite themes are Asian influenced and gothic influenced. Steampunk definitely falls into the gothic influenced category, and since I watched Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland last night, I definitely have goth on the brain.
Cue me wasting hours on the internet looking up Steampunk related fashion, weddings, accessories and cakes. The end result? I am now convinced that I need to sew some Steampunk clothes. Yeah. It's like that.
I should preface this with the fact that while I own a sewing machine, it's old. Like 1972 Singer teaching model, old. I use the heck out of this machine to sew (and occasionally quilt) quilt tops, but it is not a user friendly machine. It's old and cranky and makes my hands hurt because I have to wrestle with the fabric. Another fact that bears mentioning: I have never sewn garments. Ever. I have *knitted* garments, but that is decidedly not the same. So what does this mean to my new Steampunk obsession?
That I've decided to sew my own corset, dress and bloomers, naturally.
Hear me out! In my defense, I have sketched no less than 3 separate designs this morning and bought a book on Amazon about how to construct a corset. First step in any new creative journey? BUY STUFF! I'm trying to decide what to do about fabrics and such, but I think I'm going to go to my local fabric store and try to find some scrap pieces so I can see how different layers will work together.
One of my favorite inspiration photos (courtesy of Jen at Epbot):
The bloomers plus ripped tights? Love it. Add a funky underbust corset, a frilly white shirt and some chains and I'm yours. Plus some distressed boots (leather-free, of course) to seal the deal.
There are tons more fun inspiration outfits on the Epbot blog, so definitely check it out. And incidentally, Jen also runs the infamous Cakewrecks website (which has made me snort liquid out my nose on more than one occasion) and featured some fantastic Steampunk cakes. These postings combined have really gotten my creative juices flowing. And possibly salivating...
In the process of sketching out the designs I have in my head, I have realized that I am not an artist... Hrm. I might work on that a bit as it could get costly to try to actually *make* all of these ideas. Particularly with my "skillz". Next stop: Googling "how to draw fashion designs".
04 November 2010
Counterculture crafting
You wouldn't know it by looking at a gallery of the projects I've done, but I am a huge, *huge* fan of subversive or counter-culture crafting. I'm also firmly in favor of reinterpreting the meaning of "traditional" and using modern themes in traditional crafts. As such, some of my favorite knitting/crocheting projects are amigurumi, or amigurumi of TV characters (Nibbler and Bender imagined as toilet paper holders are just brilliant), colorwork with Space Invaders or robot themes. I have also recently stumbled upon Quiltsryche, which is a punk/hardcore rock take on traditional quilting.
In a word: I love it. Okay, that's technically three words, but Oh. My. Gosh! This woman took a traditional handicraft and turned it completely upside down in a brilliant way. I mean, even if you aren't a hardcore metal fan, you have to admit that her designs are pretty inspired. When I see designs like these, whether they match my personal style or not, I feel like an explosion of creativity is just around the corner. If you can turn "Rock out with your cock out" into an heirloom quilt, I'm pretty sure you can do just about anything. First, crafting, next, the world!
In less exciting, but explanitory-type news: I am a terrible photographer. There. I've said it. It's kind of hard to make an interesting crafting blog without pretty pictures, but honestly? I find the whole photo thing to be irritating. It takes me a long time to take them, then upload, then place them just right... Whine, whine, whine. I'm making a concerted effort to include more images in my posts - um, starting with the next post... I promise... I should warn you though: they will be overexposed, or underexposed, or blurry. I fell like I am an all-around creative person, and fairly good at the creative projects I pick up, but photography just isn't one of them. But I'll try to put something up, at least!
In less exciting, but explanitory-type news: I am a terrible photographer. There. I've said it. It's kind of hard to make an interesting crafting blog without pretty pictures, but honestly? I find the whole photo thing to be irritating. It takes me a long time to take them, then upload, then place them just right... Whine, whine, whine. I'm making a concerted effort to include more images in my posts - um, starting with the next post... I promise... I should warn you though: they will be overexposed, or underexposed, or blurry. I fell like I am an all-around creative person, and fairly good at the creative projects I pick up, but photography just isn't one of them. But I'll try to put something up, at least!
O Hai!
I love starting blogs. I seriously have 4 or so on my blogger dashboard. Some are dedicated to travel and so only get updated when I actually travel, and others are well-intentioned "it seemed like a good idea at the time." I enjoy blogging and I certainly enjoy reading blogs, but I find that I am shy about posting. I'm trepidatious about putting too much personal information on the Interwebs, and while I think that I am creative and talented, I would never claim to be expert in any of the crafts I enjoy.
I think the short version is: I need to get over it. The great thing about blogging is that you don't have to be an expert. So, I'm going to try to get back in to the swing of sharing my creative projects with the world. I'm really hoping that this will be a growing experience for me. I feel like I'm right on the cusp of tapping in to my inner creativity and I need a little oomph, a little *something* to push me into the abyss, you know? I'm pretty good at following directions, so I can create something using someone else's pattern - be it quilting or crocheting or knitting. But I'm getting to the point where I want to create my *own* designs. I have some ideas swirling around, I just need that spark to ignite the flame.
So, with that in mind, Hi! I'll be posting more regularly. I promise. (Though, to be fair, much of the non-blogging blame has to go to Ravelry. That site is so awesome and I've been knitting so much, all my recent projects get posted there!)
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