Can I blame someone else?

My sewing life is slow and literally on the shelf.

It's been sitting on this ledge for a while which doesn't make me happy.  I'd like to blame my work shift patterns and complain how it stops me from creating fabulous dresses. Uchhhhhhhh. 

Can I introduce you to Peggy...Simple Peggy Olsen.

I decided to ignore advice on buying a new sewing machine and opted for this old thing. The love for my blue duck egg shell machine is over and I've discovered it isn't worth pimping up.  The machine engineer can't guarantee it will work after I've spent £100 or so - so I've moved on.

Master Jenny has checked Peggy and given it the thumbs up.  She showed me how to handle this little gem and we delighted and smiled each time Simple Peggy Olsen made the right noises and stitched the appropriate stitch. 

I exhale a sigh of relief.

Peggy is a Frister and Rossman machine.  Who are they? Well I didn't know.  

But Sewalot has given me the complete lowdown.  It's a longish tale of corruption, death, growth and bankruptcy.  At one point they stopped production of machines and started making weapons - I think for war - I could be wrong. Oh my.

This innocent beauty is plastic strong.  The button are weirdly simple.  There's no fuss or confusion about this machine and no gadgety things to fear or distract my short attention span. It's petite and heavy and I was told to get something heavy enough.

There will come a time when I will be a sewing genius and I won't need Master Jenny.  I do long for that day. But first I best get going and do something rather than just think about it and blame everyone but me.

Top Tips before you go machine shopping and you don't have a car.

:: Don't act like I did and tell the shop assistant that you know nothing about machines.

:: Don't put the machine you are about to sell in a suitcase and realise on opening it you've broken it.

:: Don't tell them your real budget. Lie, lie lie. I told the truth.  Uchhh.

:: Don't get a machine that only looks pretty.  You need one that has more than one stitch.

:: Don't be forced into buying a new one machine - sometimes heart is better than mind.

:: Buy something you can carry.  I don't have a car, but I do have a mini wheelie suitcase. Hooray!

:: Get it serviced once a year.

:: Be nice to the sellers cause because they might give you a £15 discount.  I did. Happy days.

:: If you don't have someone like Master Jenny to show you how it works - make sure the shop does.

:: Don't put it on the shelf and let it collect dust.  Use it, make dresses, be creative and have fun.

I nearly have a machine

Novum is the term used by a scholar dude Darko Suvin to describe the scientifically plausible innovations used by science fiction narratives.  Boring? Maybe.

Well, it's also a Latin superlative meaning - something new, fresh, young and innovative.  I like that.

So, I'm proud to declare, it's also the brand of sewing machine I excavated from my storage of possessions and never ever had the intentions of ever using.  It was once just a luscious dead weight sitting in the corner of my rented attic room attracting dust and my glances.

Now there is joy because my local sewing centre says they can MOT it, ELECTRIFY it and bring it into my life for a whole £70 and a bit.  So as long as this sewing machine obsession thing sticks, I will be stitching away in sewing heaven.  A flap on the wood base revealed a tin box with lots of little extras labelled and ready to be of some use.  There's even a miniature bottle of oil  I presume is as old as the 1950-60s machine.  A little gross I'm thinking, but let's just call it "added charm."

I've read Novum was taken over by Jerome and I'm told Jerome is v good.  I was also told to get a heavy machine and this is one would chop off my toes and send them crashing through the floor if it were ever to be dropped.

I'm a little anxious because paying for an upgrade doesn't mean it will work to my satisfaction.  There's hundreds on ebay for less, that could be better.  It's like buying a second hand car and hoping all the money you lavish on it will guarantee it works.

But stumpy - my sewing master's cat likes hanging around the machine, so I'm taking that as a sign. 

He lives with no tail.  Other cats wait at his flap, so they can pounce or do what cats do when they wanna fight instead of play.  So I figure he's got good karma floating around his paws.

I hope all goes well.

Vintage Slovenia and a sewing bag

This bag was hanging brightly on a rail and as I walked by, it said "Ena don't leave without me."  

I'm in a city where I am struggling to pronounce its name.  Ljubljana, Ljubljana, Ljubljana is the capital of Slovenia - today the centre of my world.   Every time I go away, I try to find me a vintage oasis, so I can bring back a tangible memory.

My room is peppered with trinkets, bracelets, rings, cushions, pictures, something wee that always triggers something, so I never forget where I've been and how I've chosen to live.

The search for Vintage Divas in Gosposka Ulica 3 was easy.  Acclimatizing to Slovenian culture isn't difficult instead it's a funny process. As a tourist I sort of demand to have all the attractions readily available when I'm ready, but in low season here, it's been a challenge that has just made us laugh every single day.  The mere fact Vintage Divas was opened was a comfort and a surprise.

Inside happy lady greeted us.  She wore excellent glittery docs that I would never wear but admire those who would.  She was a helpful edgy burst of energy, telling us about the very best and the very bad clubs to dance in. We ignored her advice (stupid) and ended up in the worst place ever. Oh well lesson learned.

Anyway, the shop is way more modern than I thought it would be.  Vintage places tend to have that worn in look, the pretending we don't care theme that covers the striped back walls or the rough edges that have been expensively scratched into new furniture.

Grey is my favourite colour, so I instantly liked Vintage Divas because my favourite wash of hew on the walls seemed to act like a canvass for everything else in the room to stand out and take its place.

Second hand clothes are carefully hung beside a long list of designers you will know.  Zoe and I played guess how much this dress is and then gasped in amazement that someone out there one day would come into this store, buy the ugly yellow Moschino dress for €500 and feel delighted. Oh my. I bought my wee bag for a whole €9.

Under the fluffy hat, Zoe thought she'd found herself a perfect accessory to go with her corset for a captains ball that I'm not invited to. Instead looking at it made her realise she could make it herself. 

I don't need another bag, but I convinced myself I needed one for sewing.   I can throw away (sorry recycle) my pink plastic and transfer everything including my pin cushion into this beautiful Slovenian bright red bag.   And then when I go to my next lesson, I'll pull my stuff out and I will smile inside.

Because I'm thinking it's my sewing bag but also my memory bag.  It comes with happy times.  It reminds me of days spent on foreign lands laughing my head off, living life in the moment, enjoying, not worrying. It reminds me of the people we stumbled upon and burning the candle at both ends.  It triggers the monologue of conversation between strangers, people close and the ones that went on in my head.  It takes me back to the wishes I forgot to make.  Of the time spent rummaging through my stuff to find a euro, only to realise I said "plop" when my coin hit the water instead of whispering for what I hoped for.

It reminds me about a holiday I can't explain to others.  When people ask me about my days in Slovenia, I say it was ok, I recount a few tales, but truly wish I could tell them about all the fragmented  events that evolved into having a wonderful time.  Only Zoe gets it because she was there and maybe that's what makes it so wicked.  In a world where we share everything, maybe not sharing is a new found novelty that makes this extra special. 

So for me, silly as it might sound, my/our Slovenian bubble is now symbolised in a very bright bright red bag that has found its own place amongst the other trinkets of life around my room. 

Something you might like: Farandula 

One pin cushion created

I have a pin cushion, but have no pins yet.  Does that matter?

I am delighted with my first tangible artifact from my 2nd sewing class, even though its found a new home on the floor in the corner of my room.  

It's not that I'm not proud of it, but I can't erase the fact that the pin cushion without pins is simply a square bit of fabric with some ex pillow fluff inside - it's not a dress is it?  If it was a dress, well I don't think it would be on my floor.  

Now anyone can sew a pin cushion, but not anyone can do it the proper way like I did.  I used a proper square cardboard template cutter, tacked it, then used proper sewing scissors, that protect your knuckles. Then I tacked it again.  I was slightly disappointed with the news that I'd have to tack everything I ever make before it gets machined.  I just thought, put the pins in and then use the machine, BUT NO.  You just don't do that.  

Master Jenny is teaching me the correct way to do everything.  She says it's then easier to break the rules and cut corners and I like that way of thinking.  So everything I am doing now is correct. Everything I will do in a years time will be done Ena style.  Hurrah!!!!

So correct rules state:

:: You must wash your material before you start sewing and cutting it up. What a bother I thought, but  if I don't my dress will shrink in the wash and it won't fit and that is just now allowed to happen.

:: Iron out any creases in the material.  I can do that no problems.

:: Always sew the "good sides together", which basically means always sew inside out.

:: Thread matching.  We did a whole section on this, but my mind wondered because I was thinking about someone.  I realise lessons on bobbins and the technical stuff make me retreat into my own little fairytale dreams which I will endeavour to not to do next time.  I may have not been listening but I did write it down. 

:: Thread for tacking should always be arms length.  I thought that's a good bit of advice.  All my life the thread has been too long and gets knotted or too short it's useless.  

:: Basting means tacking.  Americans say basting we say tacking and I'm told most patterns for dresses talk about basting.  I wouldn't know that cause I'm not onto dresses yet. Sad face. 

My biggest problem is that I don't have a machine.  Saturday arrived, the sun was shinning, I could still taste the whisky from last nights Burns celebrations.  I do love being Scottish.  I was told to go to Eastleigh Sewing Centre and so I did and expected to fall in love and I didn't.  I think I romanticised a little to hard about meeting my machine.  I met these two. 

I now realise I must look harder for a machine, make a decision and make a purchase.  I can't practice at home right now and in order to become Master Jenny's prodigy I must surround myself with pin cushions.  The more pin cushions in my life the better I'll be.

Pin cushion in a tea cup. Nice.  No sewing involved, so not ideal.

Oh and today I found a wonderful wonderful material shop Ateliers six minutes from my house. The one in town I've decided is yuk.  This place just has rows and rows of stuff I want to buy.  But first I must get a machine.

I may have all the material in the world, but if I don't have a machine, I don't have me a dress. 

I can sew straight lines already

I have started this opening sentence a fair few times, because I just don't know what to write down first.  How can an hour and a bit at a sewing class make one so happy, jolly, enthusiastic, excited and a wee bitty too giddy.  Am I normal?

Jenni is my new sewing teacher/master and I think I'm going to be her next prodigy, because I can already sew straight, curvy, zig-zag lines and follow the 1.5 cm edge.  Her teaching style is perfect for me.  No long winded explanation of all the buttons blah blah blah.  After an intro chat about life, flats, her cat called stumpy, she let me get straight into it and my foot was paddling away. (Is it even called a paddle? I don't know. Maybe it's simply called a foot pedal????????????)

Jenni teaching me the importance of getting the edge right.  Get it wrong and my dress won't fit. Can't let that happen.

My brain has retained all the stuff about tension.  I know the correct thread strain will ensure the machine does what I expected it to depending on the material.  When we talked about getting a sewing machine, she understood my needs - solid, cheap, reliable, not brand new and most of all really pretty.  She agreed on all points and I thought - yes we are going to get on well.  So I'm off to a shop in Eastleigh on Saturday to get me a second hand beauty.  Already wishing Saturday was tomorrow.

In my next lesson I'm making my own needle cushion.  Boring maybe, but I need one anyway, especially one made by me.  I'm also making a silk pillow case.  I've read soooooo many times, Afro hair needs to rest on silk at night to help prevent split ends.  Do you know how many times I've googled silk pillows and never pressed the buy button?

Well, now I'm going to make my own and that just makes me very pleased (with me).   I've never liked silk and can't imagine what I'll get at the material shop that will be nice.  I've decided to pick white with holiday blue stitching around the corners.  I'm obsessed with that colour at the moment.

Me creating a a straight line through the dots

Then after doing small stuff like Male Pattern Boldness said,  I'm allowed to start on the dress I mentioned in it's the year of the sew.   Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! now this is the most exciting part.  I thought I'd be sewing some random bit of nothing before I got to what I actually wanted to do, but marvellous Jenni welcomed the idea of my silk pillow case and dress with an enthusiastic nod.  Male Pattern Boldness did say "make something you like and make up your own rules" and I have a good feeling master Jenni will let me.  So all is well.

I am on my way.  I'm one teeny weeny step closer to arriving at the wedding in an outfit that will have been put together by me with mixed emotions - frustration, joy, enthusiasm and apathy.  I'm sure I'll swear, loose interest, get obsessed and say uchhhhhhhhhh a lot.

My sewing master is confident the May deadline isn't a problem.  So Cinderella shall go to the wedding and maybe find herself her own prince charming amongst the left over men at the end.

Ha, I just hope when the clock strikes midnight my dress doesn't fall apart. 

It's the year of the sew

I thought it was my idea.

It's been on my list of things to do for about four years, but I didn't realise it was on everyone else's.

A page in my Sunday mag said "sewing will become reality TV's next big thing and you will pay people to tell you what you want."

A few years ago I started telling people what I wanted.  Even though my seamstress didn't really listen, I was happy with my Ibiza dress for my holiday in Ibiza. 

That's me in my made in North London dress.  It looks better when I'm standing up not slouching.

Well, the Great British Sewing Bee will be on the telly soon and I'll watch it with curious eyes.  Until then, I'm going to focus on materials, buttons, zips, colours, textures, patterns and more buttons.

So much too pick from... brilliant.

I have grand plans to create my own made in Southampton dress.  My deadline is May.  I'm going to a friend's wonderful wedding at Finsbury Park Town Hall and I want to look the part.  When someone says "Oh Ena, where did you get that dress?"  I can't wait to shriek with understated excitement

 "I SEWED IT MYSELF."

I've discovered Male Pattern Boldness. He only started two years ago and look what he's churning out now.  He wears it well too doesn't he?  MPB says he's proud to be the most popular men's sewing blog. I'd be proud of me too if I'd achieved so much.  I just want to make lots of dresses for me and maybe for you too.

MPB a.k.a Peter Lappin's "Cathy" shoot in New York.  Picture taken from Male Pattern Boldness.  

The site has great tips and really helpful quirky articles on all sorts of things.  There's plenty of information for people like me.

::: Start with a good machine - not got that yet.

::: Buy a good starters book - waiting for mum to remember the name  of the book she thinks is great.

::: Start small - mmmmmmmmm I'm going to ignore this and make a whole big fancy dress.

::: Make up your own rules - ooohh my favourite piece of advice so far.

::: Find a sewing community - i've got Barbara's gang and just added Peter to my virtual community  

::: Make something you really like - totally agree.

::: Take a class/Don't Take a class - i've booked a lesson, but I might cancel it now.

Got to pick a machine first.  Functional, but very presentable, very excited.  

I'll let you know how my year of the sew goes.