Tag Archives: lace

Sunshine + Storm Clouds

14 Dec

Ah, the infamous hanger shot; often a sign things have gone horribly wrong.

This is the blouse pattern from the new Burda Style Book. It’s a gorgeous pattern and obviously it’s been well tested as they show a dozen examples from sewn around the world.

 

Sadly somewhere in my alterations I screwed up and it looks dreadful on me. The back fits great but the front is just a horrible ill-fitting mess.

The fabric is a lovely sunny mustard poly and the lace yoke is a scrap left over from my white lace tee. I’m kicking myself for not buying more of it as it’s really lovely to handle and according to the salesman it takes dye well too. Coincidently, it seems Toast must have got their hands on a few bolts because they’ve used this exact lace to make this dress (I couldn’t find a close-up of it but I inspected it in the shop) selling for a whopping £159. I think I paid £4.50 per metre.

So bummed.

Fall Palette Challenge: White Lace Tee

19 Oct

Number three on my Fall Palette Challenge wardrobe may be my most favourite item this year.

It’s a simple white lace kimono sleeved tee, based off Colette’s free Sorbetto tank pattern. I raised the neck front and back then used this tutorial from Analog Me  to draft the kimono sleeve.

The lace is a cotton found on Goldhawke Road which the proprieter swore had also been purchased by buyers from top shop (hmmm, take that with a grain of salt) however at only £4 a meter it was a good deal. The underlining is a slinky synthetic twill that feels really soft and would be a nightmare to sew if it weren’t together with the cotton lace.

I cut the lace out first then squared the edges of the lining on the cutting board securing with pins. With the lace on top I used more pins to hold it in place before hand-basting around the edges and along the dart legs. Once the basting was in place, cutting the slinky fabric was easy and the rest of the top was sewn as one layer.

What I really like about it is that the simplicity of the pattern meant I could spend more time on things like this and french seams and hand-tacked binding. The details combined with the silkiness and weight of the fabric means that this feels like a quality garment even if it only cost £7. It’s something about the heaviness of the fabric that reminds me of trying on expensive clothes, I think.

This may be my favourite Sorbetto yet.