Sew How Shall We Live?
Monday evening I attended an inaugural ball. I wore a gown made with the help of a friend. You can read more about why I’m insane and chose to make a formal evening gown out of silk in less than a week at my home blog. But that’s not the point of this post. And, yes, I am insane.
Here is a photo of me and LightHusband (I’m wearing the dress and we’re on our way to the Ball):
Dressed & Ready
BlazingEwe (my BFF) and I made that gown in about three days. Not only did we make it, but it’s a mash-up of two patterns. And we didn’t have either pattern in the correct size, so we had to redraft both in addition to putting them together. Yes, it was a high pressure situation. We left for the ball at approximately 4:30 p.m. and we finished the dress at 2 p.m. On the same day. Yes, I cried several times. Yes, I said I wasn’t going at least twice. No, I was not kind or gracious when I said it. But I never threw anything. So I get one point for that. Just one.
For the most part I made it on my trusty sewing machine; my Bernina Virtuosa 153QE (that’s Quilter’s Edition). But my dress is made from dupioni silk; a fabric notorious for the way it ravels and shreds after it’s been cut. So the seams had to be finished. As you can see there are flounces along the bottom. They are made from silk organza and needed a handkerchief hem. Have you ever tried to fold and press silk organza into 1/8″ folds twice over? On a curve? I’ll never, ever try it again. The trials of Sisyphus come to mind. I sort of had one (out of six) done after about two hours of fiddling with it and a hot steam iron. I still had to sew this hem down and it wasn’t nearly prepared enough. It was Saturday afternoon and I’m thinking, “Alright … just the [insert several choice curse words here] flounces will take 12 hours to put a hem on them and then we’ll be able to start on the dress. That’s soooo not going to work.” I think that might have lead to crying jag number two and rant number one. But right then TallCoolWoman called and asked how things were going. I couldn’t talk, but BlazingEwe could and she described the scene. TallCoolWoman had just the solution. Her serger!
A serger is the machine that finishes seams in a manner like you find on manufactured clothing. It will also create a handkerchief hem on organza without any pressing involved! So those flounces? They took 45 minutes total, plus 15 minutes for a lesson and practice. One hour versus 12. Yeah, baby!! Then she loaned it to us so that we could finish all the seams on the gown. That process took about a minute per seam, rather than 5 - 10 minutes per seam. I am sold. Now, I “need” a serger.
I have resisted these for years. Turned my nose up at them. There was no reason for a serger in my world. They couldn’t do anything my trusty sewing machine couldn’t do. But, now? Now I’m sold. What just happened here?
Here’s the interesting thing. I have another acquaintance who has extolled the virtues of these machines to me for years. She has come right out and told me that I need to have one. Wondered openly why I won’t get one. Used one in my presence several times in attempts to show me how wonderful they are. She made excellent arguments. Told me all the right things. Gave me great reasons for trying one and needing one. But all her efforts were in vain; I was never even tempted. Mostly because her case was too good and too perfect. I saw nothing in it that was appealing or inviting.
TallCoolWoman on the other never gave me one argument. Not one. She simply extended an invitation during a moment of need. And offered an open hand up when I needed it. Now I’m looking for sergers, finding prices and learning everything I can about them.
I’ve been thinking in the week or so since about this … and about how we can have the best argument in the world, but it’s an open hand and a winsome invitation that are more likely gain a hearing.
By Maria Henderson on Jan 28, 2009 | Reply
Love your story about serger evangelism. I believe there is one in the house somewhere (or possibly over at our still-stuffed storage unit) — it would be my mother-in-law’s. I’m not inclined to touch it with a 10-foot pole, myself. THen again, I need remedial instruction to thread a regular sewing machine.
The dress looks great — as do the both of you! Hope the ball was as much worth a story or two as well…
By Sonja Andrews on Jan 28, 2009 | Reply
Heh … I wish we lived closer. At least I could suck you into my weird sewing world.
Yes, more stories about the ball will be forthcoming. I’m still trying to re-surface and get my head above water.