A Butterfly Birthday Ballet Bag

Remember the Railroad Tote?

I made a not-quite-new-year resolution to sew things which would be practical and much-used - rather than fanciful things which get forgotten in wardrobes. It's been a success, I use my tote every day, and have moved on to making them for friends and family. 

The only small glitch was with the one I made for my Dad - he didn't realise it was a gift and returned it, neatly folded, the following week.

("Awkward",  muttered son#1.)

Lesson learned: presents need to look the part.

So when my daughter turned five, I made her a pretty bag, and wrapped it up with ribbons and sparkles 

and bells and whistles.

She uses it all the time.

But then I signed up for the size 5 project and I had to make a dress as well...

It's for the sew-along on the Oliver+S blog - is that a good enough excuse for a little bit fanciful sewing?

A longer lazy day

So, there I sat, scissors in hand, fabric in mind, all set and ready to start on a lazy days skirt.

The pattern says:

 Determine how long you’d like the finished

length of the skirt to be; then add 2" to that measurement

Did I measure my daughter?

No.

(she moves too fast)

Did I measure one of her skirts?

No.

(they were in another room)

I just cut.

Did it turn out the right length?

Nope.

(it was tiny)

Another hour, a lot of fiddling, and a couple more inches made it it right.

Note to self: 'lazy day' applies to the wearer, not the sewer.

Still, the skirt is a hit.

She needs another one now,

 a bit longer next time, please, mum.

February Resolutions, and sewing for happiness

I'm not good at New Year resolutions - not good making them, let alone keeping to them. 

January seems like the wrong time for big strategic decisions, when we've all just tumbled through Christmas, and the house is still full of cake and chocolate, and the outside world is cold and bleak and dark. New year is decluttering season for me. I enjoy taking down the decorations, tidying and rearranging - but it's the moment for small scale domestic reshuffling, and not at all auspicious for long term planning.

Sewing-room storage heaven (mostly thanks to IKEA)...

Anyway, that's my excuse.

By February, though - when the cake has been eaten up, the days are a little bit longer and the rhythms of normal life are back in place - it's time to make plans.

Sewing plans...

Here's what Tilly Walnes, of 'Tilly and the Buttons', says about realistic sewing in her book 'Love at First Stitch':

"Making fancy frocks is lots of fun... but you want handmade to be part of your regular lifestyle, make some stuff you're actually going to wear on a daily basis".

Common sense? Definitely.

Also a helpful wake-up call to stop me making party dresses which my daughter doesn't need, and to look instead at what I actually use. And it turns out that the winners, in terms of everyday hand-made usefulness, are not clothes, but bags - lots of them - which I reach for all the time without even registering that I stitched them.

So instead of cutting out a fancy frock I started the year with a tote bag which had been waiting on my wish-list, thanks to my sewing friend Justine at Just Me Jay. She's been making beautiful versions of the Purl Bee Railroad Tote, and she promised it would be a satisfying pattern. It really is - there's enough detail to keep it interesting, but it's still a quick sew that's easy to finish in an afternoon.

With a nice new pattern like this, it's hard to stop at one...

So, on reflection, my 2015 resolutions are about choosing activities which lead to long-term happiness - starting out by balancing the instant gratification of sewing a pretty frock (which might languish in the wardrobe) against the long term satisfaction of using my lovely railroad tote every day for the rest of the year.

Thank you, Justine and Tilly.

Last-minute dot Christmas

I realised a long time ago that procrastination is all about perfectionism - because the circumstances tomorrow might be just the little bit more auspicious...

It took me a whole lot longer to recognise that this is A Bad Thing, and that a task not done for the best of reasons is still essentially a Task Not Done.

So now I try to keep my inner perfectionist on a very tight rein, and she really only gets to express herself here in my blog where I hardly ever write anything. She was certainly well suppressed back in November when I found myself with a tiny slice of time and an old cocktail dress which was crying out for an upcycle.

I muddled this skirt together in a twinkling, knowing that my four-year old can carry off the tulle-and-sequins look a whole lot better than me, and that she won't be troubled by grain line issues and dodgy top-stitching. I even felt a glow of satisfaction at having started my Christmas sewing while there were still leaves on the trees.

And then the very next week O+S released the Onstage Tutu Skirt, an actual pattern for exactly the thing I'd been trying to achieve. And it was free. And showed me clever solutions to all the glitches I'd encountered.

My inner procrastinator was delighted: the universe was clearly on her side. 

Consequently all the rest of my seasonal sewing has been done in last-minute flurry.

Hair ties for all the little girls in my life...

For son#2, an Art Museum vest modelled on Bilbo Baggins' waistcoat (with some linen PJ trousers to match, in case he wants to go for the full Hobbit look).
Oh - and the lining is gold silk from that cocktail dress.

For son #1, who has grown so much in the past year that he won't fit last year's PJs, new pair in soft houndstooth with fancy buttons (because real men dare to wear pink)

Next year, I'm going to remember some sensible words from my friend Rebecca:

'Christmas', she said, 'is a predictable event'.

She was encouraging me to crochet a reindeer jumper, which may or may not ever happen - but I'm going to hold on to the reminder that there will be another Christmas in 367 days, and another in 732, and another... and so on.

So there will always be another chance to do the thing perfectly.

And if it's not quite perfect this time, that will be ok.

A very happy Christmas from runcibledays.

All quiet at runcibledays

It's been quiet for too long at runcibledays. Some things get harder to do the longer you delay - writing a long-overdue letter, making belated apologies, cleaning behind the fridge - and also blogging, it seems. The longer the silence, the more pressure to break it with something amazing.

Instead, I'm going for the 'aaah' factor with a sweet little jacket (though it's not nearly as sweet as the gorgeous baby it was made for). It's from Simply Crochet magazine, issue16, and it was a joy to make.  The background fabric is a pram blanket from way back when my babies were babies, and it still makes me smile. 

After a summer of crochet (did I mention you can crochet on the sofa? in front of the television? or while having a conversation? by the pool on holiday? - that's still very exciting to me) I was a bit afraid that sewing might also have crept into that category of hard-to-pick-up activities, and that having not stitched anything for so long, the pressure would be on to create something extraordinary. I wasn't sure how to break through the perfection-barrier, and had started dithering about rearranging my button storage. Luckily my sewing friends have come to the rescue with a reminder that some projects just won't wait.

Remember these tiny bubble dresses? They was made for my little runciblegirl when she was a baby, and were the start of my obsession with O+S patterns.




Their original patterns - the puppet show, the tea party, the swing set and of course the bubble dress - only go up to size 5T.

And my runciblegirl will turn five in the springtime...

So it's time to leave the sofa, step away from the crochet hook, and start catching up.

But first, while I'm still in baby mode, just one more 'aaah' for that cardigan...

Hook a duck (quack)

A belated Happy New Year from runcibledays!

I'm celebrating 2014 with a new sewing icon: the multi-talented Scarf Lady, from Sarah and Duck. Scarf Lady is inseparable from her grumpy carrier bag, and she has a colour-coded wool store in her loft (where the oddments live a secret life of their own). She keeps a donkey in her garden. She is terrible at remembering faces, but good at keeping up with her friends. She can knit trumpets, tree-cosies and hot air balloons.

I don't know whether to worry that I'll end up like Scarf Lady, or to see that
as an aspiration.

Anyway, although I still can't knit (too afraid of all those little stitches) my friend Carol has taught me to crochet, and I am smitten.  I love that there is only ever one stitch which can unravel, and so incidents with cats or toddlers can always be put right.

Also, it's like sewing, but I can do it from the sofa. Bliss.

And there's a whole world of beautiful wool and yarn to be discovered.

But mostly I just wanted to make a duck.

Or two.

I'm very grateful to Jo Clark who designed and shared the Duck pattern.
(I'm hoping she'll do a hot air balloon next.)

Clearly any little girl with a Duck will need a hat to match...

... and perhaps a bunny (from a pattern which came from the library, I'll give credit where it's due if I can find the book again) ...

... and a Christmas stocking, or three (based on a pattern from Deramores).

The only question is: do the children in my life really need more crocheted animals? 

And how will I know when it's time to stop?

(Although Scarf Lady wouldn't worry about a thing like that.)

All he wants for Christmas...

Christmas is go in the Runcible household: we have tinsel, fairy lights, candles, glitter, mince-pies, and mystery decorations made at pre-school. 

So why does my husband look a little bit afraid, a little bit anxious, a little bit like a man haunted by an unspeakable dread?

I think I might have the answer.

He had suggested some practical - and fairly specific - Christmas gifts:

 cycling gear, socks, books.

Could it be that he's afraid I might be baking, stitching, crafting or crocheting all of the above?

The socks must be a particular worry.

So, will I be knitting reflective bicycle clips this Christmas?

Watch this space...

When the going gets tough...

... the runcible house gets organised.

Tidying up is my default displacement activity.

Because even though the universe might have infinity and entropy and chaos,
at least my fabric scraps are all in order.

A truly reusable bottle bag

Do you re-use your bottle bags? I'm thinking of those nice paper ones which dress up a bottle and make it look a bit more gift-worthy. I re-use mine - it seems wasteful not to - but always with a niggling awareness that they are never quite as crisp and perfect on a second (or third, or fourth) outing. And I know it's just not so much fun getting a present in less-than-perfect packaging.

Last month, at the end of term, I had some bottles which needed to be wrapped up nicely  for teachers, and found myself with no bottle bags at all. Something must have gone badly wrong in the bottles-in v bottles-out ratio in the runcible house. Luckily I had plenty of fabric. I wish I'd taken photos, but it was a last minute scramble and they were off to school whilst the bags were still hot off the sewing machine. Instead, here's a picture of another fabric bottle bag - this time with a touch of patchwork on the side...

Fabric bags, it turns out, are so much better than paper. They feel reassuringly durable, they look a bit special, and - best of all - they are really, truly reusable. They won't crumple like paper, and, even if they get a bit creased, a moment under the iron will make them look new again.

Here's another - it turned out unintentionally Christmassy, so I'll be putting it away for a few months.

I'm hoping that they are so reusable that they will be passed on, and on, and on... and eventually one might even come back home to me (maybe even with a nice new bottle inside it).

Here's how I made them  - it was quick and easy, and used only a fat quarter of fabric and about 30" ribbon.

I started with a piece of fabric 18" by 13"...

... and snipped it in half lengthways...

... and pinned, then stitched, some ribbon on the top edges for handles. 14" for each piece of ribbon makes for a generous length. This edge will be folded over and hemmed, so the handles will be stitched again to make them secure.

I sewed the two pieces together along their bottom edges, right sides together, and pressed...

... then stitched the long sides with wrong sides together and  a narrow seam allowance, ready for French seams on the sides. This is where I added the applique panels on some of the bags, with the raw edges of the panels trimmed to match the side seams of the bag.

And I turned it inside out with right sides together to make nice French seams up the sides.

I sewed across the corners at the bottom - the blue line is 2.5", which gives a nice square base to the bag.

Then I folded the top edge twice, and stitched the hem, catching the ribbon handles to secure them.

Done!

Flat S in England...

We've has a very special visitor in the Runcible household this week: Flat S sailed over from America on her way around the world.

 It was a little bit magical having her to stay - as though a story-book character had stepped off the page and come to play! After all these years sewing O+S patterns, I was a little bit in awe at first, but the children just got on and played with her.

The story of her adventures with us is over on the O+S blog today, and now she's sailing away to her next destination...

Happy Travels, Flat S!

A little change to make life better

This was my peg bucket.

 

It said 'PEGS' in big friendly letters on the side, and so I always believed that it must have some special powers to make it perfectly suited to peg storage... and yet it was almost completely unfit for purpose. 

Sometimes I found snails living inside it. 

Then I had a revelation: other people use peg bags. Last week's phone cosy process works equally well for a simple little bag. I scaled it up a little, added a shoulder strap, and used a morsel of precious Japanese linen for the flap.

The stripy fabric is from Cath Kidston (with a sturdy interfacing) and the lining is grey gingham from Ikea.

 I feel like a proper grown-up with my bespoke peg bag, and it lives indoors, where there are no snails.

Why didn't I think of that before?

Leibster adaptations

I had a lovely compliment last month from Natalie at Sewing Room Secrets, who nominated runcibledays for a Leibster Award. After looking through her beautiful blog I feel very flattered to be on her reading list. 

The only catch is that I had to answer eleven questions, and then pass eleven questions of my own on to eleven other blogs. That sort of challenge could set me procrastinating for years.

I muddled through the questions, though:

Sweet or savoury? (sweet, unless the savoury option were cheese, then maybe both)

A few really good friends or lots of acquaintances? (a few good friends for a night in, though lots of acquaintances can be nice for an afternoon at the park)

City girl or country? (live in the city but love the countryside especially when there are goats)

Morning person or night owl? (night owl who likes early nights)

What is the most unusual thing you have ever eaten? (I can remember the sausage which rendered me vegetarian twenty years ago)

What is your earliest memory? (not sure, but I can remember being very excited by cheese on toast at my kindergarten)

What is your favourite smell? (my babies, of course, and springtime)

What 3 words would you choose to describe yourself? (judging by the above: indecisive, indecisive and indecisive)

What qualities do you most treasure in a friend? (tolerance and tea-making skills)

How did you choose a name for your blog? (a long story beginning and ending with the Owl and the Pussycat)

Is there such a thing as ‘enough’ fabric? ('never')

This next step might be cheating - but I like to think that it's still in the spirit of the Leibster award and its mission to encourage small blogs.

Instead of nominating eleven blogs (and asking eleven questions) I'm going to mention just two (but they are both very much worth visiting):

Sandi at Elizabeth Wyatt Patterns

and 

Amy at Lots of Pink Here.

I met Sandi through the Oliver + S flickr group (before flickr turned to the dark side). She has just released her second pattern, the Little Man Tool Belt (it also works for little girls who want to stash away snail shells and bits of twig from the garden). I was lucky enough to be one of her pattern testers, and can absolutely recommend this pattern. It has lots of clever pockets, no raw edges, and plenty of clever toddler-friendly adaptations (adding a ribbon tab on the zip, for example).

Amy and I bonded over the Sugar City Frock a few years ago, and since then her online shop and blog have gone from strength to strength. She is a master of clever cutting, and has also recently also released a pattern - a travel game set, which also links up with a binding tutorial on her blog.

Thank you again, Natalie, 

and please forgive me for rewriting the rules a little. 

A phone-cosy for all seasons

My phone has a new home.

I'm much more excited by the case than by the phone inside it. It's taken a lot of experimenting with various gadget cosies and cases, but at last I've happened on a quick and satisfying way to make then whole case (including the lining) in one step, with no seams showing.

I'm thinking that there are two groups of people who might want a gadget-cosy:

1 - those who love their gadgets and want to protect them;

and 

2 -  those who hate their gadgets and want to hide them away.

That would be everyone. Almost. So I'm sharing photos of the process just in case it saves someone else a few hours of fabric origami.

And here's what I did...

(please bear with me on the tedious measuring stages at the start - it's really just one long rectangle - there's no actual maths going on here).

First I drew around my phone.

Then I drew a box  about a quarter of an inch outside the phone's outline (I'll talk about 'the box' quite a lot in these instructions, for want of a better description).

Next, I drew some parallel lines half an inch from the long sides of the box, for seam allowances.

I measured from the top to the bottom of the box, and added identical rectangles (the same length) above and below, to create one very long rectangle, then added half-inch seam allowance at the top and bottom. In the photo below the dotted lines along the short ends of the rectangle mark the half inch seam allowances. The solid line just below the phone, at the bottom of 'the box', will be where the fabric is folded later, so I'll be calling that the fold line.

Just in case that sounds too theoretical, this is how it worked out for me:

My phone was 3" wide, and I added 1/4" each side for the box, plus 1/2" seam allowances = 4.5" width.

It was 4.5" long, and I added 1/4" above and below for the box, making 5".

Then I added a 5" long rectangle below, plus 1/2" seam allowance = 5.5".

And a 5" rectangle above, plus 1/2" seam allowance = 5.5".

So the final pattern piece was 16" long by 4.5" wide.

I used my long rectangle to cut a piece of outer fabric and a piece of lining. I chose to use some quite thick outer fabrics in order to provide a bit more protection from accidental bumps: a wool boucle for the kindle, and a thick felt for the phone. The linings were Liberty scraps (I knew they'd come in useful sometime!).

I also cut an extra piece of lining fabric measuring 2" by 4.5" which I interfaced, folded in half lengthways and stitched along its long edge...

... then I turned it right-side-out and pressed it into a tube..

... and stitched it to the right side of my outer fabric, about 1" below the fold line.

That's the end of the preparation, and this is where it gets a bit more interesting.

I sewed the outer and lining pieces with right sides together along their bottom short edge. I pressed the seam well and under-stitched the lining...

...then pressed it again with the wrong sides together and right sides facing out. 

Here it is: I've turned it over so that the sewn seam is at the top, and the lining is above the outer fabric. It helped to have the paper pattern beside me at this stage:

I placed the paper pattern beside the fabric, so that the sewn edge was level with the line at the top of 'the box'.

Then I folded the lining fabric up along the fold line, with its right sides together, so that the raw edge was level with the top of my paper pattern and the wrong side was now facing up (allowing a peek at the wrong side of the outer fabric beneath). I pinned it along the fold line, just as a temporary measure to hold it in place for the next step.

I flipped the fabric over, so the outer was above the lining, and folded up the outer fabric in exactly the same way: folding up along the fold line, right sides of outer fabric together, upper raw edge aligned with top of paper pattern.

The sewn edge is now sandwiched between the two layers (though that's hard to show in a photograph).

And then I stitched along both long sides, pivoting at the top corners to sew about an inch along the short upper edge as well, but leaving a two inch opening at the top for turning through. The stitching lines are just visible in this photo below.

I trimmed the corners...

.. and turned it through the gap.

Ta dah! All of a sudden it looked almost finished.

I slip-stiched the gap at the top closed, and also hand-stiched the corners in order to taper the flap slightly. I suppose I could have sewn it with slight taper, and might do that next time.

And it was done.

The phone slips in nicely and the flap tucks neatly under the band.

I like the long flap, though of course it would work with a shorter one too. My original gadget-cosy was a case for my kindle, which had a shorter, curved flap and a button closure.

I'd be tempted to do another like this, even though the bound buttonhole more than doubled the construction time! I used this tutorial for the buttonhole, and have to say that it makes me very happy, so the time invested in it was more than justified.

I wouldn't recommend the smaller flap for a mobile phone case - the thickness of the fabric means that it doesn't fold over especially neatly, whereas the longer flap flips over beautifully, and the band provides a satisfying splash of colour.

A case this pretty might even teach me to love my phone...