Why I didn't sew this weekend

My youngest son has moved out and before I can say "empty nest" he has acquired a border collie puppy and signed me up as babysitter while he works evenings on the weekend since he is still a student. His new place of residence is as a boarder at a married  friend's house at the beach where he will be lifeguarding again this summer. A perfect arrangement for him and a good friendly home for a new puppy. The thing is the beach is more than a half an hour away from his job, and me, so grandmama is handling the weekend puppy sleepovers. His name is Birdie and he is completely adorable and semi-housetrained. Rascal and I had a pretty busy weekend puppy sitting (Mr. R is snoring loudly from the couch as I write this) but having to run into the room every six minutes to say "No Birdie, outside, outside" made me give up entirely on starting a new project.

Completely worth it and much more compatible with my new obsession which is decorating. It appears that if you wait 55 years to get into decorating it can get intense. All that backed up picture hanging and furniture arranging pouring out all over the house, quite unexpectedly.

There is a history here. All this of course was probably set off by the last bird leaving the nest (although I just realized that I have had a Birdie fly back - life is undoubtedly hitting me over the head with a two-by-four again so I can figure this out - there will always be someone who needs me, or at least the old someone's needing me in a different way) and by the trauma induced by an evening spent at my sister's in-laws' staggeringly perfect house.

That visit made me come home and think about my own environment. Truth is I have a cute little house but for some reason I have never done a lot of serious decorating. It occurred to me today to wonder why, since I suddenly remembered that in Grade Seven in one of those what-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up essays that I wrote that I was going to be an interior decorator. Haven't remembered that in about 40 years.

What happened?

Well for a start when I was 21 I met and shortly after married a guy who was older than I was, and was also an architect. The fact was my taste was not developed, his was certainly developed. To cut a long story short in a marriage that lasted a pretty long time I never bought one thing for my house. Nothing. Not a coffee cup, not a spoon. My architect husband knew exactly what he wanted and that was what we had. For all that time I slept in black or grey sheets, looked at white walls, sat on thin grey couches and tried to fit all our stuff into tall, narrow black cupboards.

I think you get the picture.

I see now that during those years sewing was even more essential to me. I understand now, and didn't then, that all the need I had for colour, design decisions, and individuality was diverted into my sewing, and it was in my sewing that I think the person I really was kept growing.

And when that person became a single mother, my energies went, not into decorating, but things like finding a good job to support us all, and bringing up my family. I did start to pick up a few pieces that I liked, all of it very bright, but there was no plan and along side it all the kid's stuff just kept piling up.

The kid's stuff still kept growing after I remarried and became a mother of three and stepmother of two great girls. We married at the end of the high school years beginning of college, and so a lot of what I did in this house was move somebody's stuff in and somebody's stuff out, shift boxes to make room for surf boards, move book collections from one room to the other, give up a sewing room to make another bedroom available, move single beds out and double beds in. To add to this my second, and I have to tell you very much my best husband, does not shall we say, have much of a design sense. 

An example. 

For some reason he has got interested in those electronic frames that rotate pictures (if it is a gadget he loves it) and actually, no word of a lie, was all set to put an old computer monitor on the mantle connected by an orange extension cord across the floor - with a multi-media slide show of family pictures - "I figured you'd love it - see pictures of the kids all day" and for the life of him couldn't see what I thought was wrong about this idea. Heart of gold, but really Rascal has more asthetic sense, a lot more. A lot.

So for the last number of years I have been doing  far more cleaning up than fixing up, and there was not much time to think about my space. I was still in the service industry phase of my life, still full-time, not part-time, not until very recently.

Well, all that has changed and looking around I realized all that my house says about my life and myself. To me a great and beautiful house was some place I visited, not some place I lived in, and I realized that I was still living around other people's decisions about my space, observing but not participating in my own immediate environment - just working with what I had to work with.

When I thought about decorating, I thought I didn't know where to start.

Well I was wrong about that. You see I figured out that all those years I was not participating in decorating a house I was actively, OK continually, thinking about clothes and fabric and style and things like core wardrobes.

A house, I realized this weekend during Birdie duty, is nothing more than another wardrobe, and pretty much the same rules apply.

Think about it. 

A home, like a wardrobe, has to work for your lifestyle, express who you are, and require exactly the amount of upkeep you are realistically able to give it. Like acquiring style in a wardrobe, style in a house requires knowing who you are, a lot of thought, coordination, accessorizing, and some sort of colour scheme. It has to be based only on the fashions that really suit you, not just trends. Things have to go together but not be too matchy.

It has to fit. It has to flatter. It has to make you feel good about yourself.

See, I know more about this than I thought.

So for the last couple of days I have been treating my house like some sort of SWAP project. I have been purging the things that no longer fit or are out of style (asked my DH to price a dumpster for the driveway), all the things that are not me and taking stock of what I have.

And like a wardrobe I have realized that I have more than I realized, and that so much can be done by moving things around and making new outfits for these rooms trying this with that for a change. Rather than leaving things where they were for example I have been putting things that were of the same colour schemes together, letting things go where they belonged not where they lay. The small pictures and beautiful fan wall quilt from my daughter's pink  girl bedroom out of a cupboard where they have been stored and into the bathroom with the grey tiles and soon to be pale pink walls. My son's terrific black and white photos in frames in the white bathroom upstairs, drawings from another child who did a couple of years at art college (before he switched to accounting) and pictures of my parents and family where I can see them when I lie in bed at night. Personal things in the space where I think most about my life, where I am going, and where I came from.

My DH has recently painted our big bedroom pale blue and yes I did make drapes but the walls have been looking large, bare and cold. I realized though that I am not the only sewer in my family and remembered that both my grandmothers where amazing needlewomen and so I have gone down to the basement and opened the boxes with their handwork. Gorgeous linens (spouse #1 didn't like anything like this - too decorative, so it got stored) and I have the small silk whole cloth quilt my dad came home from the hospital in (pale blue on one side, pale salmon on the other) to hang on one wall and an intricate mohair shawl, like a spider's web, made for me actually when I was christened to hang over the bed. There are so many other beautiful pieces - I am going to have to think of how to display them in other rooms.

And I will have to post some pictures.

So in some ways I think this has been a significant weekend for me. 

First of all never underestimate what sewing has taught you that can illuminate other areas of your life.

And secondly, and this is one I sometimes forget when I am having one of those "Oh-my-God-how-in-the-hell-did-I-ever-get-to-be-55" when I was just, so recently 35, it is never too late. 

Never too late to find out that there is more to you than you thought, that you can do the things you couldn't, that you can find a new interest, and a creative one at that.

And lastly, just when you think the party's over, you never know when a Birdie may show up in your life.

On housework and unconditional happiness

My vacation away was amazing. We loved DC, we were so pleased to see a son flourishing there, we had a blast everywhere we visited, and are looking forward to our next trip back. Thank you Americans for being just so nice to us everywhere we went.

There is so much to say now that I don't know where to begin. So I think the best thing is to shoot up some random thoughts and you can just take them for what they are, or aren't worth.

If you are like me you think and resolve pretty much the same things on every trip home from every vacation. Mostly it's about how, after a couple of weeks or so of not having too much more serious to think about than what's for lunch, life is going to get simpler, less cluttered, less harassed - how you are just not going to let things get too much again.

Am I right?

Has anyone else ever cruised back into the driveway at the end of a trip and decided "From here on in I am going to take on more, get rid of all that spare time, worry more, want more, rest less?" Has anyone ever decided that what really needs to happen was that life stopped being so simple and got more complicated?

Of course not.

I have also noticed, in the various places I read, lots of talk about happiness. 7 ways to find it, 10 ways to be it, the One thing that Prevents it.

Well you know what I think?

Nothing can make you happy.

You just are, when you are.

I don't think there are preconditions to happiness. No obstacles in your way, no thing that you can do that will give it to you.

Happiness I think is unconditional and the minute you try to place conditions on it, you've lost it. It seems to me that we are all a lot better at focusing on the things that we figure need to get fixed before we can be happy than at considering the possibility that we can be happy anyway, and that happiness doesn't hang around waiting for better times.

Most of us understand unconditional love. If you have been the beneficiary of it, as I have many times, you really appreciate the value of it. If you have a dog you know what I am talking about, or a child, or a have a good mother. Now no one is going to come along and say that unconditional love is foolish, that really we should place conditions on it for it to be real - we understand that what makes this kind of love so real is exactly the fact that it is unconditional and really that conditions just ruin it.

So why don't we look at happiness the same way? I think this is worth some thought.

We all have long lists of happiness conditions. Make your list. I know women who won't be happy until they find a man or someone was nicer to them. I have had times when I felt I couldn't be happy until I had a different job, or a child moved back close to home,  I know a man who can't be happy until he has a small fortune put away so he can leave his work as a doctor, a job he hates and someone else who always wanted to see his great business ideas implemented a probably never will. 

Closer, there have been times when I couldn't be happy with my sewing until I had pants that fit, or when I couldn't start a new project because I was still so behind with what I started last season. I am sure you know how that feels like.

There also come moments when you realize that the thing you were holding out for probably isn't even going to happen.

In the back of my mind I have always sort of wanted, and never discussed with anyone, the desire to have what they call a beautiful home. I have a nice, small, comfortable house and it is probably a lot more like the house you grew up in than the houses people live in now. I keep trying to get it fixed up and times seem to conspire against me. The truth is that I have put more of my wishes than my efforts into it too. Many times I could have been landscaping, painting or cleaning, well you know what I was off cutting out something new to sew on the dining room table, or reading sewing magazines in the bath when I could have been dusting. I admit it. In fact I even decided last night that I am just going to throw out my living room rug. My youngest son brought his new and darling puppy over for the Family Dinner on Sunday night and being the third new young dog to come visiting this year he had his own turn at demonstrating he is not yet house trained. I looked at that rug and realized the stains were pretty much defeating me (did I mention that my daughter's golden retriever chewed a corner off the same rug too when she was a puppy - I just moved over a chair to cover it so no one would feel bad) and that the only solution was to just pitch it and go 100% hardwood for the duration.

This is actually leading somewhere.

You see tonight I was out visiting one of my sister's relatives who are getting ready to sell their big and yes beautiful home. You can't imagine how nice this place is, and so neat, and spotless - absolutely perfect - kitchen counters clear, nothing on bedroom tables but flowers and cross-stitched pictures and some beautiful quilted wall hangings on the wall. It would be like living in a first class bed and breakfast. Even the grandchildren pictures on the fridge were in order and all the same size. No scratches on the baseboards anywhere.

Listen I was so impressed again, I am every time I go there. I wished I lived there, I wish that was my  house and that I had lived the kind of ordered life that produces houses like that. I would be very happy in such a beautiful, tidy, flawless home. I bet after your dinner at night you can sit with your tea in such a nice place and just smile, not sit at the table like I do so many nights and wonder if I have the energy to clean up, think about the meeting tomorrow and wonder why all my family even all these kids who have moved out, still leave so much of their stuff and projects behind with me, wonder why I have twice as many pots as cupboard space.

Back to my sister's in-laws house. I understood tonight that I will never live in a place like that. If I was ever going to get there I would be a lot closer by now than I am and that my chance for that particular dream has come and gone. I also acknowledge that they too are leaving this perfect place behind. All the kids are gone and live in other parts of the country, no one comes home often and its just too big to maintain for just the two of them. They are selling and moving into a condo like so many people do. I joked to my DH as we were leaving that we don't ever have to worry about down sizing because I think we are already there.

But I thought about my sister's mother-in-laws quilts. They were very nice and she said this to me "I always wanted to quilt all the years I worked but I didn't have the time until I retired at 65." She waited until she was 65 to sew. This made a big impression on me.

I don't really know how to say this but you know even bigger than the happiness I am not going to get now by ever having the beautiful immaculate home I secretly always wanted was the happiness that I actually achieved by the sewing and creative schemes and delusions and satisfaction of my innumerable projects over the years, done in the middle of considerable lack of order, both in my life and in my house, when I was in middle of a whole lot of other conditions that weren't being met.

And it seems to me that the happiness you have and can make for yourself today however you can make it, is more real and worthwhile than any happiness you are waiting to happen.

We all make our choices and the choice to just be as happy as you can despite all the evidence is one of them.

Off for two weeks

Just to let you know that we are off on a road trip to DC and points south starting tomorrow morning. Certain amount of fabric shopping will be happening along the way. Leaving Mr. Rascal behind with a surfer son, if nothing I know he will get lots of fresh air.

Off to pack, talk to you soon.

On multiples

It is interesting how sometimes it takes someone else to bring what you do to your own attention. 

In a comment left and appreciated, like all the comments to this blog, Robin remarked on my tendency to sew in multiples. 

I hadn't really noticed I did that, but of course I do. Five pairs of pants when I found a pattern that fit, five summer dresses, and as many casual T shirts last week.

I have not always sewn this way, in fact in my recent sewing life I have had several seasons. These would include the sewing for fit (being tall makes a difference) which produced duty garments; sewing to compete, I admit this when I first discovered all virtual sewing conversations I went through a period of trying all the patterns everyone was trying and sewing what was trendy; vintage sewing (OK this involved more pattern collecting than sewing because the altering into a large size was daunting to me) and where I am now which is sewing multiples I guess. 

I don't expect this to last forever, my sewing life is always under flux, but this is why I am sewing this way these days:

1. Time. When I used to look ahead to this age and this stage I thought I would be semi-retired and pleasantly sewing couture garments in long afternoons with a tea beside me in a spotless house looking out on a beautiful garden.

Yeah right.

I am not complaining, far from it, but I am as much right in the middle of it as I always was. A switch from an intense job to teaching has just got me just as involved in new ideas, committees on new structures, tons of students, all of whom bring their issues, angst and challenges with them, and research projects. It will be a few years yet before I dismantle from the saddle. Add on to that children (my view is that as they get older and go and work on the business of building their own lives it is up to me to make sure we all stay in touch), extended family of sisters and brothers-in-laws and nieces and nephews and my mom and in-laws, and all the important and good communication that entails, which in the last few months has included one with a serious illness, kept from us, so no one would worry ...

The beautiful garden now involves a half finished garage (did I mention a DH who loves his projects?) the debris of winter and more than a few holes dug by a child's lovely golden retriever on her daycare days here. And the spotless house - well I could post some pictures but that would only make you wonder how any person could happily sit and blog with all that around her waiting to be cleaned up.

OK, so we have established that my sewing time is limited and particularly precious. 

2. ROI. Sewing is what I relax with, not cutting out, not fitting, so when I have something that works I want to get something more from my investment. Sort of like a recipe that you perfect or discover and serve again for company, or file in your head as "new old standby." There isn't always time to start or learn something new, to trace out a new pattern, fit it (heaven forbid sew a muslin), and get to the enjoyable part, which to me is the sewing.

3. Skill. The second time I make something I make it better. I can do those tweaks I decided I should have done the first time and the whole process goes faster. Completing a garment is satisfying. Perfecting a new pattern is even more so.

4. Reality. A difficult decision for me was to realize that at this stage of my life I couldn't do it all and that if I set up my sewing life under those terms and expectations I would just be adding one more place where I always felt perpetually behind, never ahead, and never satisfied. In my cooking I focus, on vegetables and sometimes desserts and leave the meat and menu planning to the French chef. In my knitting, an activity I reserve for multi-task environments like the car when I am not driving or TV, I am making only felted slippers and mitts these days (may branch out to socks) as much as I would love to make everyone I care about a sweater. One day.

I do have rules though for multiple sewing and these are what they are:

1. Only cut and make one edition of a potential TNT pattern first off. As much as you think it will work it might not.

2. Even if your edition one (I just thought really good books, like textbooks, are both reprinted and reissued - nothing wrong with that) is great - never and I repeat never go off and cut out a bunch more until you have worn edition one for an entire day, in public. It is amazing how may little issues float to the top under the stress and challenge of wear on real moving bodies. A waistband might be too tight or loose, the neckline too wide and your bra straps show etc. you can't tell these things after a quick check in the bathroom mirror.

3. Once you have cut out your multiples sew them up one at a time, not factory style. I consider this very important. If you start sewing like a factory that is all you will feel like and there is no joy in that, that's why they unionize and need a labour standards code. Remember that your sewing time is time to nurture your creative soul (and not much in this world or in ordinary life does that enough any more) so allow yourself to focus on the creation of a unique garment, even if the process becomes familiar, and to have moment when you exhale, pronounce it finished, try it on and then go find someone in the household to show what you have made. If I wanted to assembly line sew I would be making a quilt in a day.

4. Never cut out and sew more than four more of the same garment. Since you have put so much into getting this right don't ruin it all by giving yourself a chance to get sick of it, like you would if you had your favourite food every night for two weeks. Put it away and don't pull out this pattern again until you have one of those moments when you are wearing something you made and say to yourself "damn this is nice, I should make another one of those."

Works for me, where I am right now.

This is what I am thinking

A post or two ago I wrote about the how-fashionable-to-be dilemma and the significance of accessories. Here is a photo from the G20 photostream that shows exactly what I am thinking. This shot is of Mme. de Silva from Brazil and is very interesting for several reasons. They are:

1. She looks so chic. Relaxed, comfortable and fashionable. Notice the simplicity of what she is wearing, a good quality fabric ( I would say silk), covered buttons, shawl collar and simple solid shell. She could wear this suit for years.

2. Ease. Not too fitted and the skirt has a surprising amount of ease, probably comfortable for sitting and walking. Those wives, probably very accomplished women in their own lives, get stuck doing a lot of that at these events I am sure.

3. Classic and careful grooming. Notice the nails, nice make-up, good jewelry but only simple earrings.

4. OK look at that purse. Colourful and interesting, expresses her personality and makes her look stylish and hip and raises the whole outfit from matronly to fashionable.

I often think that many sewers, like the one who writes this blog, spend far too much money on fabric and patterns and find it hard to allocate cash to just accessories. How many of us custom our purses and say earrings to every outfit? How many of us default to the old standbys like my silver hoops?

By contrast I would like to offer up other approaches to being fashionable as put forward in this Spring's Vogue's new releases:

 I rest my case.

This weekend's sewing

In about a week we are off on our much needed road trip to the US. To chill out from demanding jobs and to see a son, sightsee, and of course fabric shop. The itinerary, which my spouse always engineers, does not show a lot of laundromat time, as I think I have said, so I decided this weekend to search the stash and try out an Ottobre T shirt pattern. I took the suggestion made for larger sizes and added an extra 1 1/2" to the front piece for bust ease, gathering this extra up in the side seams about 1/2" below the arm hole. It worked very well and was such a quick fix for the extra bust ease I needed.  Speaking of which these are not glamour shots, my sewing hair and my sewing bra (does anyone else have one of those?) - these pictures remind me why I wear my serious bras in my real life (but oh my kingdom for a comfortable supportive bra - my sister keeps telling me to take the time and get properly fitted so I can achieve both the hoist and comfort - but this is another discussion for another day isn't it?) but forget the hair and the bustline - look at the tops. Since I am taking black and grey pants and skirts with me I am feeling very coordinated with these tops and took enormous pleasure out of making five nice new T shirts all out of comfortable rayon and cottons.

My favourite is the striped top with the black neckline. I am not sure that I didn't have a top just like this when I was in kindergarten. And the sleeveless tank, obviously made from left-overs has a bow in the middle because guess who put the binding on and realized that the join was centre front?

Anyone else ever find that when they make a mistake it is always, always at centre front?

Details and how hard should it be?

Like you all here I spend a shocking amount of time plotting my wardrobe additions, pattern surfing and fabric considering. About a month ago my DD came over and brought me this purse. She said she knew I would appreciate a big red bag but  I probably wouldn't get one for myself.

I was really pleased with it and started taking this bag with me to work. The thing is that it was amazing how many of my students and colleagues complimented me on it, on my style, and just how sharp I felt carrying it.

This made me think about accessories and the fact that I get so caught up in making garments that I don't pay as much attention as I should to what real estate agents call "staging" - the little details that bring out the best in a place, or in this case, a middle-aged sewer.

Look at BWOF. I was doing that this week and noticed just how heavily accessorized the fashion shots are, how much the style of the garment is brought out by great jewelry, gloves, shoes and bags. Take all those accessories out of the picture and would the same garment be as attractive? It's an interesting exercise. Look at Shannon's blog for truly inspirational and instructional information on her nail care regime - hands like those are going to make any outfit look its snappy.

And here's another thought to add to it. Maybe it's the recession, maybe its my own sewing audit that has revealed my assumptions, time, and energy don't add up, but I have been thinking a lot about things like how much do I really need in my closet, what garments really suit me, how do I do more, or at least better, with less, or at least enough?

The concept of enough is interesting.

To me it is about reaching a point of satisfaction with what you have made or are making, of taking time to enjoy what you have done and when you wear it. Really what words would you rather have in your head about your sewing? "I am so far behind with my projects" or "I love  what I have just made myself."?

Not a hard call to make.

This brings me to the complicated question of fashion. By definition fashion changes and is about the next thing, not the present thing. Some fashions do last however, the trick is to pick the right ones. Think the 70s and a Halston dress and then say plaid bell-bottoms. Chic lasts.

Sometimes I make something fashionable and I am not comfortable in it. Right now I am wearing a twist top T shirt I made a few years ago and I only wear it on home days. Somehow it feels gimmicky to me. This top never made me feel great, it only, for a brief time made me feel in fashion and that was never quite enough.

My red bag is another story. I feel cool with it now and as I haven't invested time and energy making it when its day is past that will be fine with me. What I will keep is my appreciation of my kind and thoughtful daughter.

So before I wear myself out trying to keep up with fashion, maybe I should focus that need on accessories, on polish, and use my sewing time, that is about so much more to me that the production of stylish clothes, for things worth making and saving.

For favourites. 

After all there are few things in life as sweet as sewing yourself something and knowing as soon as you try it on that this one is destined for favourite status - something that will give you as much pleasure day after day as it did in the making. Two sets of memories in garments like these and very worthwhile use of sewing time.

So what constitutes a potential favourite?

I am just working this out but have come up with three working criteria:

1. Fabric - I just can't get into either making or wearing something if I am not nuts about the fabric. Beautiful fabric is one of the huge and permanent joys of life - right up there with the happiness of a dog, a good deep sleep, a hot bath and a mystery novel where you like the people, friends you don't have to pretend to be better than you are with, and pressing a seam in cotton.

2. Simple styles - I am as easily distracted by the bright shiny object as the next sewer but simple clothes suit me best. I am a tall, curveless girl from the Canadian Prairies, and elaborate doesn't look right on me, maybe it is the look on my face. Minimal is my genre.

3. Timeless, within reason. See simple above. If I like something I like it to last, sometimes I think the thought of throwing out good clothes because they are no longer in fashion this year is causing hundreds of frugal prairie farmers to do a synchronized flip in their graves. On a more sophisticated level see Halston, also timeless doesn't have to mean style-less, in fact if you do it right it should be style that transcends - that's a good word.

All worth thinking about, as sewing alway is.