Three White Tees

This week I made three white tee shirts.

Why? 

Because I could.

Actually, it was because I needed a white tee and I had 5 yards of white cotton spandex ($8 / yd at Knitfabric.com) and I am currently trying to sew from my stash.

What pattern to use?

Do I make a single tee or, because I am prone to stain things, multiple?

If multiple, one pattern or more?

I spent some time browsing my pattern library and decided on 3 different tees from different pattern companies.

The finalists were: the Green Tee from Greenstyle Patterns, the Orlando Tee from Seamwork and the Jessica Tee from Ellie and Mac (affiliate link).

I knew from experience that I would have to adjust each pattern to get a better fit and, since I am now using a projector to cut my patterns (instead of paper) I wanted to learn how to adjust projector files.

Two weeks later … I finally learned enough of inkscape and the idiosynchronicities of the three pattern companies to be able to adjust the patterns.

First up, the new Ellie and Mac Jessica Tee and Dress. I wanted to lengthen the pattern at the waist, dropping the waist 2 inches and, since Ellie and Mac design for a 5’5” person, I was not going to remove the extra length at the bottom.

Or not.

Turns out that lengthening this pattern requires a bit more learning.

Next, Greenstyle’s Green Tee. This required grading from one size at the bust to a larger size at the waist and then back down a size for the hips. This one went fairly easily mainly because there were fewer nodes in the Green Tee than on the Jessica. That gave me a hint as to what I had to do with the Jessica but first, the Orlando.

I made the Seamwork’s Orlando last year while taking Fitting 101 with Tomkat Stitchery. At the time I had sewn up a wearable muslin (and wore it all summer) so I was sure I knew what adjustments I needed to make. (Do you hear the universe laughing?)

After much fussing I figured it out and made the adjustments in inkscape. For the Orlando I needed to do adjustments similar to the Green Tee but with the addition of two inches of length at the bottom.

Finally I had enough experience to adjust the Jessica and did so.

On to the sewing.

It took me two weeks to reach this stage, it took me two hours to sew up all three tee shirts.

My feelings:

The Green Tee is fine as is. I might want to make it a little shorter but that can be done in the hemming.

The Orlando is a bit too tight in the bust so I want to size up there and leave the rest of the adjustments alone. 

The Jessica is too long. Next time I will keep the lengthening at the waist but then subtract the length from the bottom. Basically I should have graded the waist out to a point 2” below where it is on the pattern and then just gone from there.

Will I make any of these again? Yup. I like them all in different ways. The Orlando is a form fitting top whereas the Jessica and Green Tee have positive ease. The Jessica has more obvious shaping and I really like that. I will definitely be using the waist lengthening in my next iteration of Ellie and Mac’s breezy dress.

Now what to do with the remaining 2.5 yards of white tee shirt fabric?

Chunking My Sewing

Knitting is linear. One stitch follow another, row follows row and piece follows piece until the whole is constructed. Crochet is linear, tatting, bobbin lace and weaving are all linear.

Sewing doesn’t have to be.

The patterns I have seen are mostly linear. They employ some efficiencies such as interfacing all pieces that need it and stay stitching all the parts needing it but otherwise, step follows step as the garment is constructed piece by piece.

I understand this. It works well for the novice to see the item constructed one piece at a time with instructions including directions to repeat (if needed).

My brain, however, doesn’t work that way. When it comes to constructing a garment, I jump ahead in the instructions (sometimes to my detriment) to see what can be done at the same time. Why do I do this? It saves time and energy. 

Instead of sewing a piece and then jumping up to press the seam and then returning to my machine to do the next piece, I sew in chunks. I sew all independent seams at once and then press them appropriately. Then on to the next batch.

For example, this week I found myself cloning a pair of cargo pants for my son. To date I have tried two published patterns and found them wanting, One came only with a 4 hour long video which showed each and every step using hand signals to indicate what was happening (no verbal or written instruction at all) while the other was fine but just not to my son’s liking in terms of the pockets.

I thought about adapting the second pattern but found myself changing out so many parts that I finally decided to clone what he has and likes (and which is no longer available in stores or online).

I deconstructed the pants, traced out pattern pieces from the parts (added a little length) and set about reconstructing them from new fabric.

From the start I kept a list of what I wanted to do when. Initially I wrote out the list for the first three steps and later, listed the steps as I went or even, after I finished them.

The steps went something like this: 

0: Interface:

Fly pieces

Waist band

Pocket Flaps

Zipper guard

1: Serge edges:

Pockets

Top of backs and fronts

Back yoke 

1a: Serge together

Pocket flaps (rs facing)

Zipper guard

Waistband

2: Press:

Top and bottom edges of pockets turned under 

Sides of all pockets

Pocket flaps (once turned right side out)

Zipper guard (once turned right side out)

3: Sew:

Top stitch:

Pocket openings: front, back, cargo

Pocket flaps

Join front and back waistband

And sew on …

By chunking my sewing into actions instead of garment pieces I am somewhat more efficient. Yes, I know that constructing garments by hand is not seen as efficient but I hate clothes shopping so yes, making it myself is both more efficient and more pleasant.

Do I sew step by step at times? Almost always when following a pattern for the first time. At the very least I have learned to read a pattern thoroughly before starting instead of jumping in feet first. After reading it I might choose to chunk a few steps but not until I first note down what can be chunked. 

Just like the act of constructing a garment, either by sewing or knitting, feeds my soul and makes me happy, creating small (or large) efficiencies in the process also feeds my soul. To me, chunking is simplifying, And simplifying is good.

My son will periodically share how he has streamlined various processes at work. What had taken the previous employee hours takes him far less time. Why? Because, as he relates, he takes a small bit of time to figure out how to save a much larger amount of time..

That is what chunking does for me. By taking a few minutes to sort out the pieces at the start of construction I save time later on by not going back and forth from sewing machine to ironing board to serger to ironing board to sewing machine and, instead, do the same but far fewer times (which also saves electricity and time by not having the iron cool down and heat up again).

Will this work for everyone? Nope. It won’t even work for me all of the time. But it does work for much of my sewing and has the added benefit of making me happy and that is what it is all about!

Cargo Pants before sewing

Introducing Sewn By Devorah

Introducing Sewn By Devorah!

I did it. I created an Etsy page. Don’t bother going there, at least not now. I created it to streamline the fulfillment process for one particular order. Etsy made it easy. They took care of all of the transactions and even facilitated the customs form, so … Win!

This was my third commission. Yay! I’ll cut the fabric for my fourth tomorrow. Pictures of the third one will go up once it is received and modeled. I owe the recipient a beverage or three when we next meet in person.

The goal of Sewn By Devorah is to create one-of-a-kind garments using fabric procured mostly from small specialty suppliers. One of my favorites, Sew Dynamic Fabrics, creates unique fabrics that are only available during a short window of time. Sew Dynamic Fabrics sources fabrics made primarily from recycled plastics. I have been sewing with and wearing garments made from their fabrics for over a year now and they show no sign of wear and are incredibly comfortable. 

Mike has suggested that I create a mailing list for friends interested in Sewn By Devorah offerings. Mailing list members will have the first opportunity to order custom garments.

So … if you are interested in getting a monthly (more or less) email newsletter with information regarding future plans, fill out this signup form.

More information regarding fabrics, garment options,  costs and other details will be contained in the newsletter.

So (sew) if you are interested in handcrafted garments made to your measurements, click here to join the mailing list: https://forms.gle/aSui8UJNzKibsHoMA

Thanks!

A Simpler Time?

 Recently I reunited with my very first friends, Annette and Allison. 

We three came together in our innocent years, when all we really cared about was someone to play with. Together we learned how to ride bikes, jump rope and play hopscotch. Long forgotten conversations were had walking to school together and over slices of pizza at the local joint.

It was a simpler time.

I think that most, not all, think that about their youth and often hark back to those times as an example of what today should be like.

But were those times really simpler?

While reminiscing with Allison and Annette, I realized how different our memories are of both the time and the place. 

First families in the townhouses of Co-op City in the early ‘70s, we had the freedom to wander, seemingly without boundaries. As long as we returned home for dinner each night, we were mostly free to explore as we wished.

Some of our memories are the same, sledding, walking to school, playing in the courtyard. Others, not so much. I remembered the competition to name the schools, neither of them remembered our elementary school even having a name.

Annette fondly remembered trips to the local candy store, Cappy’s, while I remembered the store, but not its name.

Allison remembers walking to school by cutting through the shopping center while I remember getting to school by walking along the greenway (no streets to cross).

We all remember the playgrounds and the hills that seemed oh so steep while sledding but were really fairly tame.

Annette and I both moved away during our school years while Allison stayed through high school and later returned and to the home she grew up in. She still spends time in the courtyard where countless games of “red light, green light” were played.

Allison and I still remember the first time we met but I could not tell you anything about meeting Annette, just that she was always there when I needed a friend.

Childhood is revered as an easy time, when there were no real responsibilities, when friendships  were founded on nothing more than proximity.

Life is rarely so simple but isn’t it nice to think so.

***

I started out planning on writing about how Co-op City was in its early years as viewed through the eyes of a child. Somehow this essay morphed into something entirely different.

My recent reunion with my childhood buddies brought back floods of memories and have left me feeling a bit … well I can’t really put words to it. I am grateful that these ladies are back in my life and hope that we can continue the friendships we began so long ago.

Travel

 Recently I came across an interesting post about Niagara Falls and it started me thinking about what makes a vacation.

Not long ago Mike and I returned from a “vacation” in Atlanta, GA. We chose Atlanta because our daughter is teaching there this semester and visiting her was as good an excuse as any to visit a new city.

Unfortunately the trip started falling apart on our first full day there when Mike tested positive for Covid-19. I continued my adventures in Atlanta, including a mini-seder with our daughter, for another two days until I, too, tested positive.

Oh well. There are still pleasant memories if you get rid of the part where Mike and I holed up in our AirBnb for several days.

Batya and I visited the Coca Cola museum and, after learning all about the history of the fizzy beverage, tasted a variety of flavors from other countries. We also spent a more serious few hours at the Center for Civil Rights. While she worked I wandered her neighborhood, checking out a rail trail and her local yarn store and just generally getting the flavor of her area. I also wandered a bit by her work neighborhood but got stymied on my indoor plans. Note to self: try to avoid traveling on the Easter Sunday weekend if you want to see indoor stuff. It will either be closed or booked solid. 

But back to the point of this post. 

Prior to the kids going off to college, travel was a family affair. We’d search out places that we thought would be interesting to both Mike and I, as adults, and the kids, as … kids.

Our travels tended to be car trips which included Montreal,Quebec, Cooperstown, NY and, still an annual favorite, Lancaster, PA.

One memorable summer we cycled the length of the Erie Canal from Niagara Falls, ON to Albany, NY. 

Once the kids were in college, Mike and I rediscovered the pleasures of traveling together, just the two of us. Until recently our official vacation trips were still confined to road trips but we also tacked on vacation days to conference trips. Through conferences we’ve had the pleasure of visiting Baltimore,MD,  Omaha, NE, Phoenix, AZ and, most recently, Toronto, ON. We spend a day or so together packing in the “must sees” and then, while Mike attends the conference, I experience the area alone and at my own pace.

We’ve wandered streets and sought out experiences. The Desert Botanical Gardens, La Jolla, Letchworth State Park, Fort Niagara, dinner at a culinary school, hikes, local ciders. All snapshots of time spent together, etched in our memories.

Gone (mostly) are the memories of the travel glitches and left are the smiles as we think about time together experiencing new places.

As we slowly venture into this new part of our lives we are looking to gather many more memories. Feel free to pop your suggestions in the comments, either here or back on your favorite social media platform.

Devorah

Judgement

 Why do we constantly judge others? What makes us feel that we can be the arbiters of right and wrong when it comes to how others behave? Why do we jump to conclusions with regards to the behavior of others?

(Charoset made with hard cider instead of wine)

I’ve been pondering the question of judging others for a few weeks now. Personally, I judge others for being judgy. Yup, I think that it is not right to judge others for their personal choices. Do I do it? Yes. Am I trying to keep my judginess to myself? Also yes. But if I disagree with someone who is being judgy in my presence then I am more apt to speak up then when I was younger.

For example, when Mike and I were traveling home from our recent trip to Atlanta, GA, I saw a couple with five bags between them and immediately jumped to the conclusion that they were going to try to sneak the extra on with them as carry on items, hence taking space from the rest of us who were just following the rules. (All judgements were kept within the confines of my own brain and are only just entering the world through this blog post.) Then I heard them say “which bag should we check.”  D’oh! (Later on I witnessed someone on our flight bringing 3 bags on. I kept my mouth shut, I still had room for my stuff.)

I have friends who have made different parenting decisions than I have. Were their decisions wrong and mine right? Yes. Their decisions were wrong for me and right for them. (Had you for a moment, didn’t I?)

Over the years I have felt myself to be judged by others and found wanting. As I grow up I am trying to care less about it but a lifetime of reacting to other people’s verbalized and implied judgements has had an impact and shaped who I am today. I am far more tentative and judgemental of myself, seeing my decisions reflected in the eyes of others. Or at least what I think they think.

We are all different and we all operate in our own unique worlds. Worlds that overlap with each other but still, our own worlds. Let us respect each other and try not to be so judgy. At least not out loud.

Thoughts? (Yes, I am asking for your judgements.)

Queen Esther and the Tuna

Q: What does a large fish and a long ago Jewish Queen have in common?

A: They are both a part of Purim! (at least in our household)

Let me start at the beginning (a very good place to start).

Hamentashen, the traditional pastry of the holiday of Purim, are one of the few items I cook. The reason that I don’t cook much of anything else is a tale unto itself and not one for today.

I have baked hamentashen every year since the children were fairly small, so 20 years or so. It is a family affair, or at least a mom and offspring affair with dad offering to taste the final product.

Traditionally I have made the dough and, in recent years, the filling, and then together with whichever child is in the house (sometimes one, sometimes both) rolled out, filled, pinched and baked the cookies.

Last year Natan did all the prep work and we assembled together. So far this year Natan has made the fillings and I made the dough. I expect that we will fill them together tomorrow or Monday night.

Back to the tuna.

Once the pastries / cookies are assembled, they need to chill for a while. Our refrigerator is wide enough to handle one tray and I can usually clear off the bottom shelf so that we can stack the trays.

How does one stack the trays without smushing the cookies?

Tuna!

We put a good size pile of tuna in each corner of the bottom trays to support the trays above. 

The pile of tuna is conveniently contained in a perfectly sized can. (Had you there for a moment, didn’t I?)

Once the hamentashen are ready to bake, the cans are removed from the trays and returned to the cabinet for future meals or bakings of cookies.

And there you have it, the relationship between tuna and Queen Esther!

Happy Purim!

Natasha and Sherman

Friends and family have heard of Natasha, the turtle that came for a summer and wound up living with us for the long run..

Fewer have heard of Sherman, the friend that kept Natasha company at the end, and then stayed with our family, much to the dismay of our children.

First, Natasha’s story.

Natasha first came to us for a summer when Natasha’s owner, Boris, went away for a few weeks. After turtle-sitting for July and August, we returned Natasha to Boris and purchased our own turtle, Gym (pronounced Jim). A year later Sparky came to join us and then Goethe (pronounced Goat) took up residence in a tank in Mike’s office at Stuyvesant H.S. Natasha returned to us for a longer stay when Boris went to graduate school in Sweden and Goethe joined them all for his first and only summer break. Sadly, Goethe did not survive the summer.

Over the years Natasha, Sparky and Gym cohabitated in a 50 gallon tank. Eventually Sparky and Gym died but Natasha lived on.

Boris returned from Sweden but claimed he could not take Natasha back because of his housing situation. 

Our own children grew up and went to college, leaving the two of us alone with Natasha. Boris got married and had a child and claimed, when told that he was getting Natasha back as a pet for the new child, that he could not possibly care for a (tank bound) turtle as well as a baby and a dog.

So Natasha stayed. At one point it looked like Natasha was slowly dying. He spent all of his time on top of his log and wasn’t eating. 

We went away for two weeks and found Natasha in the exact same position as when we left. When tapped on the shell, Natasha responded and so life continued.

I made jokes at work about running a turtle hospice because I honestly thought that Natasha’s life was nearing the end.

One evening we watched Natasha slowly slip off the log and plop into the water below. That’s it we thought … until Natasha started swimming about the tank and even ate!

Natasha lasted several more months until, one day he moved no more.

Ever respectful, we did not flush Natasha down the toilet (he would not have fit), nor did we dump him into the trash compactor. Instead, we solemnly walked to the Hudson river and, standing at the end of a pier, let Natasha slip gently into the water. 

Thus ends the tale of Natasha.

But wait! I almost forgot about Sherman!

Remember those weeks when Natasha didn’t leave the top of his log?

Well it turns out that Natasha was being held in place by Sherman!

Who / what is Sherman? Sherman is our imaginary, invisible octopus!

Yes, Sherman has a back (and front) story and, with encouragement I might even share it with you. 

Our children are somewhat dismayed to learn that we finally got a free roaming pet only after they grew up. Think of the fun they could have had with Sherman to play with when they were little. How much could have been blamed on Sherman. 

Now? Sherman is just evidence that their parents are even stranger than they thought.

So let me know if you want tales of Sherman’s exploits.

– Devorah

Paper Dolls!

 Back in November I got together with my childhood buddies, Annette and Allison. The three of us met as “first families” in Co-op City in the Bronx back in the early ‘70s. For 6 years we played together, walked to school together and had sleepovers. All the things that kids do (or at least did back then). Co-op City in its early years was a magical place for a little kid. 

We lived in the townhouses in section 2, Cooper Place. For those of you with no idea of what I am talking about, let me pause and give an overview.

Co-op City is one of many housing projects spread throughout New York City. Composed of 5 sections, there are townhouses with three bedroom duplexes and one bedroom garden apartments allowing for mixed generational living. The garden apartments held older couples while the duplexes housed families. There were also single core towers, double core chevron shaped buildings and triple core buildings similar to the building that I currently live in.

Much like my current home in the Penn South Co-op, there is a lot of green space and tons of places for kids to play. Our earliest playspace was the courtyard that separated our banks of townhouses. To get to the courtyard all we had to do was leave our townhouse. That’s it. No cars allowed. The Cooper Place courtyard is where I learned to play hopscotch, jump rope and ride a bike. We walked on stilts, used pogo sticks and, in the winter, had snowball fights. We could walk to school without ever crossing a street.

My friends and I started kindergarten in the community center and were the first, first graders in the spanking new educational complex.

We endured the experiment that was the open classroom and one of us even graduated from the high school, making her a member of the first set of graduates to go all the way through that set of schools. 

Over the years we drifted apart. I was the first to move as my family broke apart and was later reassembled in a different, healthier form. Next, one  went another off to the suburbs. The last of us remained, left as an adult and then returned to her childhood home as her parents aged in place.

During our breakfast outing back in November, we shared our memories of a childhood viewed through three different lenses. It was fascinating to see what the others remembered and what I forgot. 

Fast forward a few weeks and you find me trying to figure out what a retirement wardrobe should look like. I’m watching youtubes videos on capsule wardrobes and listening to podcasts on “finding your style.” Then I wander over to the Seamwork website and discover their “Design Your Wardrobe” course. No, I haven’t taken it but I have scrolled through the course materials. And what did I find? Paper dolls! O.k., not really but sort of. There are line drawings of different adult silhouettes and you can match up line drawings of the sewing patterns to go with your silhouette. Look like paper dolls to me!, 

(not the Seamwork silhouettes)

That immediately sent me down memory lane, playing with and making our own paper dolls and paper doll clothing. Happy memories of a time when our responsibilities were mostly limited to doing homework and practicing our instruments. When free time was spent playing in the courtyard or riding our bikes or playing board games. A simpler time that we can never return to but that will always put a small smile on our faces when we think of it.

Here’s to simple times and the memories they bring.

Who wants to play paper dolls with me?!

Ice Breakers!

 Ice Breakers

I am not a fan of ice breakers.  You might even say that, as a general rule, they annoy the heck out of me. I’m all for them when a group is meeting for the first time but after that, not so much.

For the last 3 years of my career I worked in a small office. When staffing was at its greatest we  had 7 members on our team and we all shared a communal office. This meant that we could hear what everyone else was doing unless they took the conversation into one of our other rooms. It also meant that when two people chatted casually, everyone else was essentially in on the conversation and these often turned into group chats with us getting to know each other pretty well.

What does this have to do with ice breakers? Well once a week or so we had a team meeting, a more formal gathering where the entire office could get a handle on what everyone else was doing. Great! I am all for having everyone on the same page. Except … every meeting started with an ice breaker. 

Yup, this small group would share some personal part of their lives each and every week in the form of an ice breaker.

Keep in mind that we were already living in each other’s pockets and all knew quite a bit about the others so sharing another tidbit should not be a big deal. But it was, at least to me. 

I have two main reasons for my dislike of the ice breaker in this situation.

One, we were meeting for a specific reason, we were all busy people, and I am a big fan of getting in and out of meetings quickly. Ask anyone who has ever sat through a meeting that I ran. I would give out the required information, take questions, comments, suggestions, and send folks on their way. In, out, done. An ice breaker takes up more time that some folks just don’t want to spare,.

Two, they can sometimes get quite personal. I have sat through ice breakers that have asked us to reflect on our lives and share the worst of something. Nope. Not happening. I really do not like reflecting on the worst of something in a public forum. I engage in enough self-flagellation in private without bringing these episodes out in public. If I wish to spend time going over them with another person I will do so on my own terms. As for the sillier ice breakers, well see my first reason. Yes, they can be fun but I’m usually present at a meeting to accomplish something and the silliness can take place in another context. Maybe when I do not have time sensitive tasks to accomplish.

This morning I was listening to, of all things, a sewing podcast. This particular podcast  always starts with an ice breaker. Yup, a podcast starting with an ice breaker. I’m not really sure why they use this term for their first few minutes but there it is. In the context of the podcast they seem to use a prompt provided by a listener and expound on it. O.k., interesting content but is it really an ice breaker? The hosts already know each other so my question is why call it an ice breaker? Is it breaking the ice with the listener or with each other? While I enjoy the podcast it always sends my mind to wondering why start with a named ice breaker? Other podcasts start with questions from listeners so why use this turn of phrase? Why?

So my question today is two fold. (O.k., it is actually two questions.) Give me your thoughts in the comments or on one of my social media accounts.

One:  Ice breakers: good, bad or either depending on the context. 

Two: Should this really be the term used for the start of a podcast with the same hosts for every episode?

Next time either Buzz Words or the first of many “wildlife” tales.