Entry tags:
Dragon*Con Projects
I'm not a visually memorable person -- brown eyes, five and a half feet tall, overweight, longish hair -- so I'm more likely to be recognized at Dragon*Con as "that one broad who was wearing the ...."
(Caveat: I turn invisible when cameras activate. Almost never am I spotted on film!)
I can about guarantee that no one at D*C will be wearing anything quite like me this year: better, sure; more impressive, absolutely; but I know I'm a Special Snowflake this time around because I'm designing and making some of my own stuff, following the venerable school of "Let's see what happens if I do THIS!" costume design.
Today I'm sick of sewing, so I'll talk about what I'm sewing, instead: a variation on Fingerless Gloves.
If anybody likes this, or sees possibilities, grab and run! I'm not finding it difficult, despite defaulting all my skill checks to a half-hour lesson back in Girl Scouts, nineteen eighty-five or so. The secret seems to be having something else to occupy the forebrain: talk a parent's ear off for a couple hours, or watch tv, or -- and THIS was fun -- take out your contacts at the optometrist's, get treated with that stuff that makes your eyes dilate, and work on sewing while everything swims out of focus. DuuUUuude!
Step Zero: Supplies
I started with a lacy shirt (purchased at Thrift Store, had a hole on the torso, cost less than two bucks; one of its colors matches the base color of the parasol I got at Disneyland, and parasol has small flowers painted in select panels as decorations, so this was a near-perfect match). I also picked out some super-cheap bits of copper and brass jewelry from the clearance bin at Michael's, raided my existing stash of beads from other projects -- nothing expensive, as the expensive ones I have purchased were always for a specific project and got used up instantly -- went to a fabric store for trim that could help tie all the different colors together and a nice, dark green thread that would also be applicable to another outfit entirely, and then went back to Michael's for the fabric flowers. The jar of fabric flowers, designed for gluing onto ribbons, was probably the most expensive item in the whole piece: $5. At home I already had a cutting tool, the aforementioned leftover beads, needles and a needle case, and Band-Aids.
Step 1: Detach sleeves

Here's one of the sleeves. The finished-looking side, on viewer's right, was originally the wrist end; it will be the elbow end, with just enough tension to keep it in place as I move around without cutting off my circulation. I think I can fit a thin shirt sleeve under this, but not a jacket sleeve.
The rounded side, on viewer's left, was originally the spot where the sleeve attached to the shoulder of the shirt. I have not refinished this edge, so an extremely close inspection of the finger-side is going to look ragged and unprofessional. Anybody looking that close should probably have bought me an Orange Julius first!
Step 2: add trim

I've started sewing the trim onto the business end, in a single, continuous piece. I make sure that the upper loops of the trim stick out past the edge of the sleeve, and I frequently backtrack to knot the thread against earlier loops. I really, really want this trim to hold up against any stresses it may encounter, as this step is kind of tedius and I'd prefer to never repeat it as a "repair". Since the trim I picked consists of three lines of thread-covered cord, I often sewed a loop of my thread around each bend to make sure it would all lie flat as I move around.
This is definitely the time to have something else to do while the fingers keep busy. I called a parent and chattered for hours. I watched television. I downloaded an mp3 Audiobook and listened to the adventures of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. (Apparently I can read at more than three times the speed at which an audiobook is properly performed.) When I ran out of no-hands things to do, I quit sewing: it was too darned boring for me to do an adequate job if that was all I was doing. People who can focus on sewing, and do it right, astound and amaze me, and I have an even greater appreciation for their concentration than I had before.
When I'd gotten all the way around, I mummified the ends in repeatedly knotted thread, and then glued a fabric flower atop the mess (with a single stitch to hold it in place while the glue dried). Then I went and did something else for a couple of days.
Step 3: Fingers

Putting the sleeve on, with the former wrist side now my elbow's end, I made a 'bridge" out of the trim; it goes from the seam, just below that ribbon flower, over the web of skin connecting my thumb to my hand, and is sewn in place against the back of the material. I'd cut about a third again what I thought I'd need for trim length, so I twisted the trim as I sewed it down until the excess length would naturally lay flat across the back of my hand for a bit. Still not sure if I'm going to trim that down, or do something with it.
With smaller lengths of trim, I made rings that fit loosely around my fingers, up somewhere just above the last joint, and sewed the ugly side onto the lacy fabric. I kept my fingers comfortably spread, not at maximum extension, so I'd have some give for grasping and manipulating objects: in fact, I can type with this thing on. The pinky ring wound up a little tighter than I wanted, but it's not cutting off circulation or leaving marks in my skin.
Step 4: Jewelry

The (glass?) green teardrop beads have been sewn into place against the finger loops, essentially covering up and disguising the tight spots where I'd sewn the finger loops down securely. That one against my index finger (top of this picture) keeps flipping up to point in the wrong direction, but I'll just make "raining up" jokes if someone notices it.
The copper line is, in fact, three lines of copper-colored nylon cord, braided together and tacked into place by thread on either side of the copper-colored pendant (a Michael's clearance bin find). Not at all coincidentally, the pendant is attached at the point where the thumb bridge connects to the back of my hand. I used a bit of brass tape that I had left over from the Steampunk MagnaDoodle Project to create bumpers on the nylon line for the other beads making up this "bracelet", which runs around to the underside and attaches to another fabric flower; the ends meeting under the flower are sewn enthusiastically onto the sleeve, and I did that same glue-and-one-stitch trick to this flower as I'd done to the previous one.

And there, in essence, we have it: while I get the second sleeve up to about the same state -- probably with a different pendant for my right hand, as I'm not sure what I did with the spare -- I'm trying to decide whether this side is complete as is; or should I add some decor just above the seam for the elbow ruffle; and I'm probably going to add more ribbon flowers, in a zig-zag pattern, going down the length of the long seam on the underside.
What do you think? Too ornate already? Needs more floof?
(Caveat: I turn invisible when cameras activate. Almost never am I spotted on film!)
I can about guarantee that no one at D*C will be wearing anything quite like me this year: better, sure; more impressive, absolutely; but I know I'm a Special Snowflake this time around because I'm designing and making some of my own stuff, following the venerable school of "Let's see what happens if I do THIS!" costume design.
Today I'm sick of sewing, so I'll talk about what I'm sewing, instead: a variation on Fingerless Gloves.
If anybody likes this, or sees possibilities, grab and run! I'm not finding it difficult, despite defaulting all my skill checks to a half-hour lesson back in Girl Scouts, nineteen eighty-five or so. The secret seems to be having something else to occupy the forebrain: talk a parent's ear off for a couple hours, or watch tv, or -- and THIS was fun -- take out your contacts at the optometrist's, get treated with that stuff that makes your eyes dilate, and work on sewing while everything swims out of focus. DuuUUuude!
Step Zero: Supplies
I started with a lacy shirt (purchased at Thrift Store, had a hole on the torso, cost less than two bucks; one of its colors matches the base color of the parasol I got at Disneyland, and parasol has small flowers painted in select panels as decorations, so this was a near-perfect match). I also picked out some super-cheap bits of copper and brass jewelry from the clearance bin at Michael's, raided my existing stash of beads from other projects -- nothing expensive, as the expensive ones I have purchased were always for a specific project and got used up instantly -- went to a fabric store for trim that could help tie all the different colors together and a nice, dark green thread that would also be applicable to another outfit entirely, and then went back to Michael's for the fabric flowers. The jar of fabric flowers, designed for gluing onto ribbons, was probably the most expensive item in the whole piece: $5. At home I already had a cutting tool, the aforementioned leftover beads, needles and a needle case, and Band-Aids.
Step 1: Detach sleeves
Here's one of the sleeves. The finished-looking side, on viewer's right, was originally the wrist end; it will be the elbow end, with just enough tension to keep it in place as I move around without cutting off my circulation. I think I can fit a thin shirt sleeve under this, but not a jacket sleeve.
The rounded side, on viewer's left, was originally the spot where the sleeve attached to the shoulder of the shirt. I have not refinished this edge, so an extremely close inspection of the finger-side is going to look ragged and unprofessional. Anybody looking that close should probably have bought me an Orange Julius first!
Step 2: add trim
I've started sewing the trim onto the business end, in a single, continuous piece. I make sure that the upper loops of the trim stick out past the edge of the sleeve, and I frequently backtrack to knot the thread against earlier loops. I really, really want this trim to hold up against any stresses it may encounter, as this step is kind of tedius and I'd prefer to never repeat it as a "repair". Since the trim I picked consists of three lines of thread-covered cord, I often sewed a loop of my thread around each bend to make sure it would all lie flat as I move around.
This is definitely the time to have something else to do while the fingers keep busy. I called a parent and chattered for hours. I watched television. I downloaded an mp3 Audiobook and listened to the adventures of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. (Apparently I can read at more than three times the speed at which an audiobook is properly performed.) When I ran out of no-hands things to do, I quit sewing: it was too darned boring for me to do an adequate job if that was all I was doing. People who can focus on sewing, and do it right, astound and amaze me, and I have an even greater appreciation for their concentration than I had before.
When I'd gotten all the way around, I mummified the ends in repeatedly knotted thread, and then glued a fabric flower atop the mess (with a single stitch to hold it in place while the glue dried). Then I went and did something else for a couple of days.
Step 3: Fingers
Putting the sleeve on, with the former wrist side now my elbow's end, I made a 'bridge" out of the trim; it goes from the seam, just below that ribbon flower, over the web of skin connecting my thumb to my hand, and is sewn in place against the back of the material. I'd cut about a third again what I thought I'd need for trim length, so I twisted the trim as I sewed it down until the excess length would naturally lay flat across the back of my hand for a bit. Still not sure if I'm going to trim that down, or do something with it.
With smaller lengths of trim, I made rings that fit loosely around my fingers, up somewhere just above the last joint, and sewed the ugly side onto the lacy fabric. I kept my fingers comfortably spread, not at maximum extension, so I'd have some give for grasping and manipulating objects: in fact, I can type with this thing on. The pinky ring wound up a little tighter than I wanted, but it's not cutting off circulation or leaving marks in my skin.
Step 4: Jewelry
The (glass?) green teardrop beads have been sewn into place against the finger loops, essentially covering up and disguising the tight spots where I'd sewn the finger loops down securely. That one against my index finger (top of this picture) keeps flipping up to point in the wrong direction, but I'll just make "raining up" jokes if someone notices it.
The copper line is, in fact, three lines of copper-colored nylon cord, braided together and tacked into place by thread on either side of the copper-colored pendant (a Michael's clearance bin find). Not at all coincidentally, the pendant is attached at the point where the thumb bridge connects to the back of my hand. I used a bit of brass tape that I had left over from the Steampunk MagnaDoodle Project to create bumpers on the nylon line for the other beads making up this "bracelet", which runs around to the underside and attaches to another fabric flower; the ends meeting under the flower are sewn enthusiastically onto the sleeve, and I did that same glue-and-one-stitch trick to this flower as I'd done to the previous one.
And there, in essence, we have it: while I get the second sleeve up to about the same state -- probably with a different pendant for my right hand, as I'm not sure what I did with the spare -- I'm trying to decide whether this side is complete as is; or should I add some decor just above the seam for the elbow ruffle; and I'm probably going to add more ribbon flowers, in a zig-zag pattern, going down the length of the long seam on the underside.
What do you think? Too ornate already? Needs more floof?