Emily

My dear friend Emily is leaving for a new job at Disney World.  Seriously, she gets to work at Disney World.  For money.


I knew she wouldn't want more junk to have to pack, but I wanted to give her a little something to send her off.  So I made this little toiletry bag, and filled it with snacks for the road.  (Chex Mix, red licorice, and peanut butter m&m's.  Plus a Taco Bell gift card.)

 I used three fat quarters in fun prints that remind me of Emily. 

 

And I lined it with clear vinyl, for easy cleaning of spilled foundation and smashed lipstick. (Or is that just me?)

I've seen cute laminated fabric/oilcloth projects, like this one, on other craft blogs.  I'm too cheap to buy real oilcloth, but I had some clear vinyl in my stash, and I've been wanting to see if it would work to overlay it on a printed fabric.

So, did it work?  

Ummm, for this project, not really.  It might be OK for something like this bib, or this book cover, but having the two interior sides facing each other turned out to be a major pain.  They kept sticking together, making the whole construction process a lot more cumbersome.  And I'm pretty sure it will affect usability too, since Emily will have to unstick it from itself just to load it up.  That is, until she spills foundation, lipstick, and loose powder inside.  Then it will be just right. 

Ree's Bag

This bag was one of the most exciting and terrifying projects I've tackled yet.

 

You see, I don't actually know what I'm doing.  When things work out well, its due mostly to luck and perseverance.  And the generous support of my seam ripper.  But my sister, Ree, has great faith in me, so when she asked if I could make her a purse with customized pockets to hold all her stuff, she probably thought I could do it.  (Probably because I said "sure, no problem, I can do that."  She's so gullible.)

 

So we got to work.   I photographed my stash so Ree could choose fabrics.

She chose 3 & 4, lined with A.

We browsed the Internet for pretty bags.  There were a lot.

Eventually,  Ree settled on this design, from a talented bag maker named Sweet Bee, who I don't know and does not have a blog (as far as I know).  (But she should.)

And then I realized I had a problem.  I meant to only suggest bags that had tutorials or online patterns I could follow.   There are hundreds of them out there, so it wasn't a particularly hard rule to stick to.  Except, you know where this is going, do you?  Somehow, this one slipped in.  And Ree liked it.  And I didn't realize until after she'd already picked it that Sweet Bee didn't share a pattern.

Now, what I should have done was say, "Ree, the bag you picked doesn't have a pattern?  How bout we go with your second choice?"  But instead, I uttered (to myself) the five most treacherous words in all of craftdom:  "How hard can it be?"

Answer:  Hard.

You see, I'm not so good with the 3-dimensional spacial intelligence.  And I'm really more an eye-baller than a measure-twice-cut-once-er. And even though I  mostly knew how to do all of the individual steps, it's important to complete those steps in the right order.  You know, like putting on  your pants first, then your shoes.  If you get ahead of yourself, you're just going to end up having to take off your pants.  Wait, no. Your shoes.  You have to take off your shoes.  And use your seam ripper.

And it seemed like each problem  I fixed only created another one.

Like, the air soluable marker I was using to mark pocket seams kept disappearing too quickly.  So I used tailor's chalk.  And then of course, I couldn't get it off.

See the red line in the center of the right-side pocket?  That's persistently immovable tailor's chalk.  The kind that's not supposed to be permanent, but is.  Apparently.

Ree didn't care, really, but I was determined to give her a pristine bag.  So I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed that thing, but that chalk wasn't budging.  And not only did I not get the chalk lines out, I created water stains on the outside of the bag.  So then I had to scrub and scrub some more to get those (mostly) out.  

And then the exterior of the bag was crazily wrinkled from being turned right side out.  And the stiff interfacing I'd ironed to the back of the fabric was puckering weirdly.  So I went at it with a hot iron until I scorched patches of the fabric a subltle shade of "toasty."  (It was perfectly smooth, though.)

And in some places I made so many reinforcement stitches that I made the fabric tear from over-stitching.   Argh!

Other complaints (mostly just for me so I can remember what to improve next time.):  The exterior fabric is a heavenly soft cotton that I fear won't wear well. (I thought with heavy-duty interfacing it would be OK, but with a bag this structured, should have used a thicker material from the start.)  The straps pull the exterior of the bag in an odd way when the bag is worn.  (This is partly because of the thin material, I think, but also because the straps are only sewn to the exterior fabric, not the lining.  I'm not sure how to get around this problem without having stitches on the inside of the bag, which would get in the way of the pockets.)   The circle rings I used came from an old thrift store purse.  I looked for rectangular rings like Sweet Bee used in the original, but they didn't have them at JoAnn's, and I didn't want to wait for an online order.  (Next time, I'll wait.)  The curve is not perfectly symmetrical or smooth, a detail you might not notice until you take another look at Sweet Bee's masterpiece.   (If I try this look again, I think I'll try sewing the contrast pieces together on a curved line first, and then cut the curve, rather than try to sew along the curve with a narrow seam allowance.)  Finally, I made the interior pockets extend the entire depth of the lining, closing them up in the bottom seam of the purse.  But I hadn't considered that the box seams at the bottom sides would interrupt the pockets, making them awkwardly shaped.  (This wasn't a huge deal because those pockets were customized to different depths anyway (for chapstick, pen, lip gloss, and ipod.)  But next time I will not enclose the pockets in the bottom seam.  With lining and pockets, there were way too many layers down there anyway.) 

On the positive side, despite its imperfections, I actually think the bag turned out OK.  I love the fabric combination, the pockets on the inside, and the creamy quilted cotton I used for the lining. 

 

I also love the zipper pocket, because I think every purse needs at least one zippered pocket.  "For tampons!" Ree exclaimed.    Exactly.   I used followed this tutorial to create the placket pocket, and then just sewed in a zipper.  I'm more proud of it than I should be, and it might just be my favorite part of the bag.  I also added a magnetic snap, which was so easy I'll probably be putting them in everything from now on.

And the good news for me is that I learned a lot constructing this bag, which will make my next bag even better.  In a way, I feel sorry that Ree gets the guinea pig prototype bag, and I'll be the one who benefits when I make version 2.0 for myself.  Sorry Ree!

But,  even if it's not perfect, it's got a place for everything.  And I'm hoping that finding her car keys will be so easy that Ree will forget about all the other flaws and just enjoy the bag.

Semi-Homemade Gifting

Semi-homemade gifting is like Sandra Lee's famous Semi-Homemade (R)* Cooking:  It's got its advantages, but it's not quite as good as the real thing.

Take this little diaper bag I made for my friend Lizzy, who gave birth to the sweetest little girl a few weeks ago.  (They christened her Rosalynd Ivy, a name that sounds like it belongs in my own family, where Roses and Ivys run semi-rampant.  (Don't believe me?  One of my grandmothers was named Ivy, the other was Bertha Rose.  An aunt who passed away during childhood was named Rosalee, and my own middle name is Rose.  Plus I have nieces named Rose and Ivy.  So, yeah.  It's not really my fault if I feel like Lizzy's Rosalynd semi-belongs to me.))

But back to the bag.  It's cute, huh?  And as you can see, it's got roses.  It's made from a vintage tea towel semi-stolen from the mounds of crafty semi-junk in the Relief Society closet at church.  (In my semi-defense, it was stolen with permission.  And everyone who was interested has had a chance at them at various semi-crafty activities.)

 

It's lined with vintage rose print fabric from the little old lady stash.  The pockets are from a fat quarter I bought at Wal-Mart more than a year ago.    Lizzy likes it because the larger pocket fits her Nook perfectly, a coincidence I'll happily pretend was my plan all along.

Here's where the semi-homemade part kicks in. The straps are cotton webbing, which is not quite as cute but a million times faster than fabric straps. I finished it off with an elastic loop and rose button closure, and was done in less than an hour.  Seriously.  Not the semi-hours I usually work in, where a 30 minute project takes 2 hours because of interruptions, blunders, and changes-of-plan.  No, this one, from start to finish, including cutting at the beginning and hand sewing at the end, came in under an hour.

So, while I do think it would have been nice to add fabric straps, or extra pockets, or ruffles, I'm happy with the end result.  These days, time is the thing I'm running short on, and the only way I'm going to get through my stash (and my to-gift list) before I move is to take some semi-shortcuts every now and then.

PS:  Just in case you're wondering, the not-homemade-at-all portion of the gift was a little bundle of onesies and a pair of ruffly pants plucked from a clearance rack in a moment of semi-weakness.  (Contrary to scientific opinion, the strongest force in nature is a clearance rack full of cute baby clothes.  It doesn't matter if they're the wrong size, season, or gender for your own child.  Sometimes, those ruffly bloomers just find their way into your cart.  You know what I'm talking about.  Admit it!)  It makes me happy to pass them along to someone who can use them.

*That's right, the phrase "semi-homemade" is trademarked!  Here's hoping I don't get slapped with a lawsuit for daring to type it in a semi-public forum.

Melanie

Melanie is cute and stylish and hip. And she's moving away.

I wanted to send her off with something useful and pretty that she wouldn't have to pack or wrap or box.

So I came up with this little makeup bag.   It went together really quickly, once I finally found the right fabric.  I sorted through lots swatches to find the right combination of cute and stylish and hip.  In the end I went with a couple home dec samples and a strip of golden silk, all picked up for next to nothing at the JoAnn closeout sale from whence my stash was born.

I know it's totally tacky to make a gift for someone and then brag about how little you spent.  But it's part of the thrill of creation for me, and at this point in my life I've given up hope of de-tackifying.  So, the zipper was 10 cents (They were begging us to take them at 10 for a dollar.  I'm kicking myself now for only buying 20.), and the sample squares were about $1.  So, I used about one square total (half for the inside lining, half for the outside), plus a smidge of silk, which I'm arbitrarily valuing at 20 cents. And there you have it: a pretty little purse for less than two bucks.

But wait!   There's more!  You can't just give away an empty purse. 

 

So I whipped up these dangly earrings.  As with the purse, selecting and planning took longer than executing.  It takes time to get it just right.    

And again, these were 100% stash-made.  The tear drop components and the ear wires are leftover from the supplies I bought in July to make jewelry for my sister's wedding.  The chain is cut from an old necklace from my salvage box, and the beads were hand-me-downs from my friend Amy.  Less than a buck spent there. 

Plus, I earned major stash reduction points.

Have I mentioned that I'm moving in 6 months?  And that my goal is to USE my stash, not MOVE it?  I'd better get to work!

going once, going twice

Way back in March, the Relief Society turned 168. To celebrate, our ward held a service auction. Everyone brought an item or service to auction, and then completed this form to earn points for bidding. (I compiled this questionnaire from my memory of a similar auction I attended when I lived in Iowa City, plus ideas from here and here. Plus my own madness. (Mostly the last one.) Feel free to use it if you'd like.)

It was a wild night.¹ Sweet Sister Carrero, in her eighties, with more points than anyone, won every item she bid on.

I won a basket full of free ironing. I haven't redeemed it yet, but you'd better believe I'm cramming that basket as full as I can get it. (You know, to make sure there are enough wrinkles to make it worth Fran's time to iron.)

This is what I took:

Two dolls with purses.

In a matching purse.

These dolls belong to Grace, and she would not have approved of me selling them off. So these were just examples; the item up for bid was a custom set, made-to-order.

My friend Sara won, and requested a set in pink for her two little girls.

(With no purses, "cause they'd just get eaten by the dogs.")

But I couldn't just send them off without any accessories at all, so I gave them each a stretchy pink necklace that their owners can also wear as bracelets. (Of course, the dogs might just eat those too. Didn't think of that. Sorry Sara.)

Anyway, back to the red set. I made the purse(s) to match Grace's dolls to save myself time coming up with a sample set, but Grace actually didn't care for the red purse very much. (She is fiercely loyal to her favorite colors: pink and purple.) And that was fine with me, because I kind of wanted it for myself. I'm a little bit in love with the rhinestone trim.

What rhinestone trim, you ask? Well, let me give you a better look:


It's very very sparkly, and would have been very very expensive, if I hadn't swindled it from little old ladies. (There was at least a yard of this stuff in a three-for-a-dollar pile. I KNOW!!!)

But then Sam's school asked for donations for a Chinese auction fundraiser, and I went and volunteered to make something. When it came down to it, though, I ran out of time and motivation. So I decided to donate the purse, because it was already made, and -- let's face it -- there was no way all my junk could fit in that little thing. I mean, where's the key fob?!

And it's time for me to start de-cluttering anyway.

So the purse had to find a new home. But I couldn't send her away alone, could I? So I made this matching head band.

More ruffles. More sparkly trim.

And because Coach wasn't home to stop me (or to try it on himself), I had to see how it would look on a baby. If only I had one nearby.

Oh look! There's one! He won't mind!


And another one. See how sparkly?

Despite Miles' clear attachment to the set, I donated it. It ended up with a 3rd-grade(ish) girl who really seemed excited about it. And I even got an appreciative (apologetic?) look from said girl's grandmother (who had previously snapped at me for asking if I could sit in an empty chair at her table) when the teacher running the auction pointed me out as the maker of the purse.

So that felt good. It also felt good to have the teachers gush and ask about special orders. When one asked what I'd charge for a bag, I foolishly said "fifteen dollars," instead of "two weeks of clean toilets." I'm such an idiot!

_____
1. At the risk of making my blog read like an undergraduate research paper, I've started adding footnotes to my entries. It's ridiculous, I know, but I just can't get it all in parenthetically. And I figure reader(s?) will indulge me as long as my photos of cute babies outnumber my footnotes.

Anyway, before this footnote needs a footnote of its own, I need to get to the point, which is that the service auction was a raging success, and I am so so so grateful to all the ladies who pitched in. Laney was fast-talking auctioneer; Lizzy tended a fussy (and occasionally stinky) Miles all night; Sara, Rachel, Margaret, Emily, Natalie and Kristie were lifesavers with setup and clean up; Amber handled registration; Kennon and Savannah watched kids; and dozens of other ladies brought treats to share and services to donate. I said thank you to everyone at the time --and really meant it!--but I still can't think of that activity without getting a little verklempt. It went well. And it was all their fault. And I'm so glad. Thank you everyone.

Birthday Princess 4.0

Now here's a girl who knows how to open birthday presents. I think in this shot she's unwrapping undershirts. And she could not have been more excited. It was adorable.

Anyway, as you can see she was quite pleased with the Sleeping Beauty style crown and necklace set I made from stash fabric. She and Grace love to play princess dress up, so I know they'll get a lot of use. (I'm thinking about writing up a tutorial for making these crowns. They're definitely a minimum-work-for-maximum-impact kind of project.)

I was excited when she got to the little purse set her mom hired me to make. (It was a bartered hire, just the kind I like. I got four big bottles of laundry soap, and countless hours of babysitting. Plus a couple weeks of dog sitting. And the kind of like-a-sister friend every girl needs. Yeah, I totally overcharge.) Abygail's take included a purse, a keychain, a makeup bag, and a wallet. And stickers! Inside the wallet! Abygail was beyond thrilled.

And I was too.

Happy Birthday Princess Abygail!

Commissions

Before Christmas I made a bracelet and earring set for my friend Tiffany to give to her cousin. We wanted to get together so I could teach her how to make it herself, but the schedule just didn't work out. So this became my first commissioned project. It's shockingly similar to this set made for Dawn last year. But this time I got better pictures of it.

And then last month a friend who works with Shane ordered a little purse, also shockingly similar to purses previously featured here.

It is a bit thrilling to have people like my stuff enough to buy it, and while I've contemplated opening an Etsy shop or actually doing a craft fair, I think I like crafting best as play, not work. It's more fun to create something for the first time than to make it to order. And when I'm making gifts, I don't mind spending a lot of time on it figuring it out. That's just part of the gift and part of the fun. But it's not quite the same when I'm thinking of my time as money. So, yeah. No shop for me. I'm still happy (and flattered) to take an occasional order, but this isn't anything I'm ever going to make real money off of. And I'm fine with that.

But you know what would be awesome? Bartering. I make purses, you clean my house. That kind of thing. I don't expect any takers, cause my house is a disaster and everyone knows that. But still, it's fun to dream.

Busy Week

In the past 10 days I've been to baby showers for four women, and birthday parties for two little girls.

I need to write a post about everything I've learned while making "quick and easy projects" gone slow and complicated. But all's well that ends well, right? So for now, I'll just post the pictures.

For the babies:

For the three-year-olds:

If you're counting, you may notice that there are only three baby gifts pictured. I didn't bother taking a picture of the fourth, but I'll tell you about it because I think it's a pretty great idea and you might want to use it sometime. Get a package of disposable freezer containers and wrap them up with a list of your favorite meals that freeze well. Write a note telling your friend to pick five (or whatever) and return the list so that you can stock her freezer before the baby arrives. Bonus gift: stock your own freezer while you're at it, cause you might as well.

Craft Fair Purses or Fancy Math Lessons

Once upon a time I got together with some friends to rent a table at a local craft fair. I decided to make little purses. Because you can't have too many little purses.

Or maybe you can.

Because the craft fair didn't work out. We lost our spot, due to not registering. (Oops!)

I was relieved, though, because I'd planned to have dozens of purses completed by mid October, and I barely eked out four.

Two of each design. They're reversible. (So it's sort of like I made eight. (But then again, they're duplicates, so it's like I made two.))

Anyway, the point is, here are some purses I made. And this isn't the last of them. In my mad attempts to mass produce, I cut out fabric and trim for 20 more. (Just 10 more designs. But they're reversible. So it's like 40 purses. You can't have too many little purses.)

That's my bag, baby.

There's a lot to do to get ready to bring home a new baby. First you probably ought to get the kid a place to sleep. And it's a good idea to dig out his big brother's baby clothes from the attic, before he comes home and charms you with his first blowout. (Adorable!) If you're a show-off, you can wash the hand-me-downs before you put them in the drawer because it's been five years since those little onesies have seen the light of day.

But don't go too crazy, because there's lots more to do and you're running out of time. In fact, you'd better get started on the MOST IMPORTANT PROJECT OF ALL: Your diaper bag. Sure, you could use one of the old ones lying around from previous babies. And you probably have a whole closet full of assorted satchels and back packs handed out like candy at all of the professional meetings your husband attends. But don't bother. There's no happiness down that road; only disappointment. You'll spend the next six months switching bags for every outing because none of them are quite right.

What you really need is a purse big enough to use as a diaper bag, or a diaper bag cute enough to use as a purse. And since you have that ridiculous stash of fabric hoarded at closeout sales and swindled from little old ladies, you should probably make it yourself. And you should probably use this tutorial because, well, look at it. It's perfect!

And when you're done it should look like this.

Now that it's finished, force your husband to admire your handiwork. Insist that he inspect each compartment individually. Point out the handy key fob.

Pay no attention when he observes that you've filled all the pockets with your own stuff, and there's barely any room for baby gear. Distract him with lies: tell him that you picked out that manly chocolaty brown color for him -- so he could carry the bag (and the baby) with pride all the way to the changing table!

When he's finished admiring it, wait until he leaves the room before you kiss the bag. He's supportive of your hobbies, but being pregnant can only explain so much crazy. The rest is all on you.

And of course, by "you" I mean "me."

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have an enormous pile of onesies to wash. And a diaper bag to smooch.