If the Riviera Were a Dress

Hey y’all, how’s your summer going? Mine’s all kinds of hot. I’ve just gotten back from an extended trip to my old hometown of Cincinnati, and as I was flying over those blue mountains of Kentucky, I was shocked at the stark contrast between the deep forested greens and the sort of sandy-colored, yellow-lit landscapes of Texas. The midwest was almost as hot as Texas but at least my eyes felt better.

Several years ago my husband and I spent an anniversary walking the Camino de Santiago, an ancient religious pilgrimage trail that extends from Barcelona to the coast of Spain. While hiking through small villages whose dusty natural landscapes resembled the hilly outskirts of Austin, I kept noticing the widespread use of a very cool blues painted into architecture and everyday items from doorknobs to dinner plates. They range from the more lavender-toned blues to the very deep cobalt blues that are more a southern Spanish Moroccan influence.

Blue Door - Spain

These blues were very welcome to the eyes in the middle of those extreme heated and white-lit Spanish afternoons. I finally understood that whole traditional Mediterranean blue and yellow palette. It’s about relief!

I wondered why Texans don’t use more blue in their buildings. The light here is very white and direct and like Spain, reflects off the white limestone landscaping. New Mexico’s architecture uses healing colors so well, and its celebratory pueblo colors are very reminiscent of some of those tiny Spanish villages.

{Credit: Taos, New Mexico}

Even the gardens here tend toward the hot in summer–what few native flowers are in bloom right now are very hot reds and yellows. Interesting…

So I’ve been taking a bit of time off of sewing but also rethinking all my project ideas. I got sidetracked by seeing the new Sewaholic dress pattern on Tasia’s site.

Isn’t it lovely? I really wanted to sew a maxi this summer, but couldn’t find a pattern I liked, and I like this one, just released today. It’s not an empire-waisted maxi (yay!) and I love the neckline. Since I don’t have 5 yards of anything to make this I have to (poor me) buy some new fabric and after a bit of searching I found this appropriately named “Riviera blue” linen/rayon fabric at marcytilton.com.

Now if the Riviera (or northern Spain, or Provence) were a dress, this would be it. I need to set aside all my coral fabrics for the time being to cool my eyes off.

Wide-leg Linen Trousers: Finished

Quick, before I find something else to delay my wearing these, I must take a picture.

{Pattern: Wearing History “Smooth Sailing Trousers”}

Okay, phew, that’s over. Once they were on I just wanted to slouch in them all day.

I confess they’ve been done for over a week but I couldn’t figure out which type of closure to use. I sewed three small hooks and eyes, ripped those out, then three snaps, ripping those out. There was no trouser hook in the stash, so I finally ordered one yesterday.

Okay, I figured, better put the belt loops on and use a belt to keep them up. I got pretty darn close to perseverating on the belt loops, making them twice before deciding to cut them wider than the pattern. My Juki wouldn’t sew over the belt loops no matter how I fiddled with the feed. So I had to pull out my dusty but trusty old Bernina.

(Convenient showing of non-zippered side. You do not want to see the debaucled zipper. Is debaucled a word?)

Then I got to the belt and suddenly realized I didn’t have a buckle. So I ordered one of those make-your-own-fabric-buckle thingies. All the while, I was wondering what type of obstacle was really at play here, other than poor planning. It was like the trousers were done, you know? Do you ever come to this kind of impasse in a creative project, where it seems you are working out some issue other than the one at hand?

I tried turning out all the lights, except for the machine light, to calm me down and try to sew with focus. Yes, it made things hard to see. I left the studio for three days, came back, left for another day.

It finally rained in Austin and I feel better now, back to my senses. I like wearing these, and hook or no hook am taking them on my trip this week up to the cooler Midwest.

Anyone know where to get nice belt buckles?

This pattern is a great style for wide-leg linen trousers if that’s your thing. If you are used to flat-front trousers, the billowy front will take some getting used to. Since I made these in a heavier linen, the extra fabric in the front feels a little bulky, and if I were to make them again, I’d use a lighter weight which would drape more nicely.

And don’t even think about making them a size down. I tried this in a muslin, thinking that I was slimming them down a bit, but the muslin was far too tight: these are designed to fit quite close in the waist to upper hip.

One note for the pattern geeks, however: the outseams of these trousers do not match, by about a half inch. I discovered this in my muslin and then walked the original pattern along the seam lines a couple times to be sure I didn’t fudge something. I get all tweaked out when I sew to the end of a seam and there is a half inch (or more) hanging off the end and I’m supposed to just “cut if off” and hem. I like when pattern pieces are engineered to fit exactly, or if one piece is longer than another, let you know there is supposed to be ease.

That complaint aside, I’m already wondering what else I could do with these: how about silk crepe for some really liquid pants? Or adding pockets? I don’t use trouser pockets much but I kept finding myself reaching for them.

(And I promise, the next you see me again I won’t be mostly headless.)

The Wide-leg Linen Trousers: Inspiration

Let’s talk about high-waisted trousers. I know they aren’t for everyone, but somehow everyone managed to convince themselves of 7-inch rises, whether it flashed the world or not, right?

High waists are one of the few resurrected styles that seemed to take forever to trickle down to the mortals, in an era when fashion and manufacturing cycles seem to be on speed. Fashion-trickle-down (or trickle-up) is such a dinosaur of the pre-internet past. But it took Urban Outfitters like 5 years to knock this off:


When this Chloe collection first appeared in spring 2005, I was in love and went on a mission to find a more affordable pair. This might look pretty normal now, but I’m telling you people were whacked out when they saw this. There was a lot of NO WAY.

At that point, their polar opposite, low-rise skinnies, were just starting to take over the world, but boy, did I hunt. And I managed to find a pair of very form-fitting, squish-me-in-70s, high-waisted jeans–I mean crawling-way-above the navel-high-rise.

I’m beside myself now, since high-rises are everywhere.

{credit: asos.com (ponte polyester–now that’s 70s!), Marc Jacobs Spring 2011 ad campaign, Alice & Olivia (shopbop.com), Adam (shopbop.com), and Tucker high-waisted flares.}

Back down on Planet Sewing, it will probably be another year (or 5) before there’s a comparable pattern from which to work. Since most of these are clearly 70s-inspired, I could always go with a 70s pattern but lack the confidence or pattern-making skills to fit something so, um, fitted. I will stick to buying them for now. Plus, I am dreaming of linen and stretch linen is hard to find–I think something that slim needs to stretch–how did they ever breathe back then?

Of course the 70s don’t have the high waist cornered, I just happen to be partial to them. We’ve got high-waisted 80s, which exaggerate the opposite shapes, like the “carrot” pants which I’m still not sure about on me. Jeans from the 80s were really high-waisted but so freaking sackish. Except for Brooke Shields and her Calvins. Things went tent-like after that.

{Via 39th & Broadway. A resurrected 80s rocker look from French Vogue 2009.}

Then we’ve got the looser Katherine Hepburn trousers of the 30s/40s. The mannish trousers, if you will, that seem to fall so eloquently from waist to floor. I could probably live in these, no doubt, and will have a much easier time fitting them than my 70s inspirations.

Soooo. I have a gorgeous length of cobalt blue linen that I washed over a year ago and is just waiting to be cut. I wanted the perfect pair of linen wide-leg trousers that I could live in all summer. I went through a couple of patterns trying to figure out which would be best.

Like many sewers, I’ve never been completely happy with the fit of pants patterns so at some point I gave up. Last summer I thought of using the linen for the semi wide-legged HotPatterns Marrakesh pants, but after making a muslin I wasn’t so sure. I wanted something a bit more fitted and higher up on the waist. It’s a great everyday trouser pattern, just not exactly what I envisioned.

After seeing some beautiful versions of Wearing History’s Smooth Sailing pattern, I decided these would be a better idea. These recent Elizabeth and James trousers (right) are almost identical in styling, down to the sewn-down pleats in front. And I can have my very own.

{Top photo credit: Grey Ant jeans, Terry Richardson for Vogue Nippon, 2007}


The Silk Tank, or How to Stay Away from Plastic Flip-flops

It took me a long time to adjust, both physically and psychologically, to the intense heat and sun of the Texas summer. I’m a native midwesterner and before Austin we moved around northern Europe, so the perfect wardrobe in my imagination was a very constructed urban sophisticated look better suited to Londoners. I never had more than one pair of sandals, and snuffed plastic flip-flops, which are standard Austin uniform. I had to let my ideals go and embrace a looser and freer style.

Now Austin is infamously laid back. Sartorial for men here is an occasional button-down to go with one’s shorts. But I have to find a way to stay theatrical and even glamorous-feeling–that’s the challenge. It’s too easy to “dude it” here.

I’ve always loved silk but used to consider it somewhat of a luxury. A couple of summers ago, I bought a few silk pieces, like a sleeveless lightweight crepe dress (which I’m wearing here under the jacket), a flowy charmeuse wrap skirt, and a crepe jumpsuit–and ended up nearly wearing them out. Now I go out of my way to wear silk in the summer. Sure, cotton is great and rayon/viscose can be silk-like, but there’s something about silk… it’s feels so weightless and cool on the skin.

So I’m on a mission to make a few basic tops in silk–my red charmeuse tank is a good excuse not to reach for one of my raggedy Old Navy ones. I should really throw those away….

The fabric was left over from a recent lining and wanted something really simple and breezy, in a kind of a-line shape. Kwik Sew 3795 was a good place to start. I liked the a-line of the pattern but it was very low cut so I had to raise the armholes about 2 inches. You can’t see it here, but the original armhole falls below the bustline. I’m still not sure about the neckline–I think I like a narrower u-shape, and will fiddle with this line before I make another.

The pattern also calls for bias binding on the armholes and neckline but I wanted something dressier and wondered if there was a way to work out a simple facing and googled around. Of course, it seems like I keep finding my sewing solutions over at Sherry’s blog, which has the exact tutorial I needed: sewing an all-in-one facing for neckline and armhole.

Thank goodness for easy projects. Overall, from re-drawing the pattern to cutting and sewing, it took about 4-5 hours. That’s fast for me.

The truth is, most days I just feel like throwing on a tank and some kind of loose trousers. I just want weightlessness–not a lot of straps, no binding clothes or shoes. I can barely handle a neck scarf, no matter how light it is.

I got the idea to pair red and coral from a recent Lucky mag. I’m pretty obsessed with coral in all its shades–it’s turned out to me the perfect summer color for me and when I saw these silk crepe Sonia Rykiel trousers I leapt at them. I’m still trying to figure out if I can wear the carrot pant style; these are so high-waisted and billowy and have massive belt loops. Obviously one has not found the right belt yet because they are falling down!

I’m sure some of you find seasonal dressing pretty natural and would love to hear stories from others who’ve made major climate-moves. I’d wear knee-high lace-up suede boots year round if I could–I’m like a Celt in the desert.

The White Jacket: Finished

Yay! White Jacket is done. Actually, it’s been done for over a week but I wanted to take it to the cleaners for one last press and to clean some of the grub that’d occurred while handling and sewing.

White Silk Jacket | Cloth Habit

And you know what? The dang cleaners pressed a different roll line. What’s up with that? When I picked it up, the lapels were flipping up and folded onto themselves inside the cleaner bag.

White Silk Jacket | Cloth Habit

And the lapels were so perfectly rolled before the cleaners. Hmph. Hopefully I’ll be able press some of this out when I get a chance. After my last post, I ended up taking apart the entire lapel and shaving off some of the extra allowance from the facing. It was work to do all that, but I quite enjoyed it, like a little science experiment in deconstruction. I could see how the lapel wasn’t lying parallel with the collar. Shaving some off solved both the dimpled and ripple-y lapel (but the cleaners somehow managed to press even more ripples).

Okay, so lesson learned about the cleaners. Has anyone else had their tailoring undone by a cleaner?

The chain was one last detail I needed to make it more like my original inspiration. (More jacket details in my last post.)

Jacket Chain Hanger | Cloth Habit


If I were to make this pattern again, I would do one more adjustment in the bust area, something like this:

Jacket Lapel Adjustment | Cloth Habit

Actually, I think that should’ve been my first adjustment, and I’m figuring I will have to do it in most patterns with a lapel. I cut and overlapped almost two inches in the Lady Grey coat. I have broad shoulders but am rather tiny around the rib cage and bust, so having things very fitted-looking there is important to me. I’d also narrow the lapels even more than I did. Fat lapels come in and out of fashion but at the moment I much prefer the long and narrow lapel. Other than all these refinements, for anyone still balking at Marfy, I have to say I really liked working with the pattern. It was drafted well, made a great block to start from, and the lack of directions freed me to follow the sew-along.

White Silk Jacket | Cloth Habit

In other news, we hit our first 100° (38C) day yesterday. This pool hides in an apartment courtyard near us and some of our friends sneak in at night. We were taking photos at a nearby park and then D said, that dress really wants to be near a pool. I almost jumped in. Seriously. I’ll still have use for light coats from this point on, mostly to wear indoors as Texans love their air conditioning. Movie theaters are infamously refrigerator cold.

White Silk Jacket | Cloth Habit

I really want to give a big thanks to Sherry for all her amazing work in the RTW Tailoring Sew-along. She’s added a huge, invaluable resource to online sewers–and in my humble opinion probably deserves to get paid for all her teaching work and commitment in answering our questions!

My next project will be a few simple tank tops, as I mentioned before. I’ve already got a silk one cut out, and am fixing up another pattern for knits, based on the Lydia.

White Silk Jacket | Cloth Habit