A Swingin' Sewing Machine for a Groovy Guy

Friends, you are to be forgiven for thinking that this portable, circa-1969 sewing machine looks an awful lot like an Elna Lotus -- on acid.



It's approximately the same size, the same weight, the same shape, and has the same swing-down doors.  And they're both all-metal, mechanical zigzaggers.

But there are differences.  The Elna Lotus was made in Switzerland.  The knock-off was made in Japan and badged "Penncrest," a J.C. Penney brand, and sold as the Swing 'n Sew.  (Swinging was a very Sixties concept -- remember the Polaroid Swinger instant camera and the 1966 Ann-Margret film, The Swinger?)









One thing I really like about the Penncrest is that it has a reverse lever.  To reverse the Lotus, you have to turn the stitch length knob all the way to the left and back again to your designated stitch length -- very inconvenient, imo.  The Penncrest is the simpler machine: while later models offered more stitches, this one does only straight-stitch and zig-zag.  (The Lotus boasts a blind hem stitch, a stretch zig-zag, and a multi-step buttonhole.)  The Penncrest has a 1 amp. motor and takes class 15 bobbins.

Maybe it's on account of the foot (similar to a vintage Singer's), but I prefer the experience of sewing on the Penncrest, and it has a beautiful, balanced stitch.  It's not as smooth, silent, and refined-feeling as, say, a Singer Featherweight, but what Japanese machine is?   It's very similar to the Elna, however.











Best of all is the flower-power styling -- very reminiscent of a Singer Genie, maybe better!





There's something extremely unpretentious about this Penncrest Swing 'n Sew.  The Elna is austere and stiff -- certainly well-designed, but kinda' high-brow.  The Penncrest evokes less Swiss precision than shag carpeting, black-light posters, and lava lamps.  And J.C. Penney.

Did YOU swing in the "Swingin' Sixties" and what did that refer to exactly -- go-go dancing?   We owned a Swinger Polaroid camera, which was a little messy to use, as I recall.

Have a great day, everybody! 

Wool Tweed Peacoat UPDATE!

What can I say?  Wool tweed is both wonderful to work with and challenging.

My fabric, while quite sturdy and stable, is coarsely woven, which means it's prone to fraying.  I'm addressing this in a number of ways.  I've experimented with serging, pinking, and overcasting seam allowances -- all of these work (though I don't see myself pinking too often).





In the case of darts that must be sliced open (aka too bulky to press to one side), I whip-stitched the seam allowance down by hand.  Fortunately, hand stitches done in brown thread are invisible.



The greatest challenge so far is bulk.  Anything stitched and turned -- a pocket welt, for instance, must be carefully graded and trimmed.  But at the same time, because of the coarseness of the weave and its tendency to fray, I can't trim too close to the stitch line.  Thankfully, with steam and a wood clapper, I can very effectively press out most of the bulkiness.









I am trying to sew this project slowly and, frankly, I can only take so many hours of this kind of work.  Today I managed to finish both front single welt pockets and purchase my lining, a creamy coffee-brown silk twill from Mood.  My most productive day so far.



In other news, there is a new sewing machine in my life, but you'll have to wait till the weekend for more info on.

That's all for now, friends.  The days ahead will likely be all about donegal tweed, though I do have a few other things going on to help me stay sane. 

Have a great day, everybody!

Dip-Dye Fashion -- YEA or NAY?

Readers, I'm open-minded.  I like all kinds of looks and, even if I wouldn't wear them, enjoy all sorts of contemporary trends.

But for me, dip-dye (often referred to as ombre dye) fashion is like twerking: I went from "Never heard of it" to "Please make it stop" in less than three minutes.

For the uninitiated, here's what I'm talking about.  (This is solely for you readers; I'm averting my eyes.)  I look at these clothes and all I see are stains.  Big, indelible, inky stains.



















The main problem I have with dip-dye fashion is that it looks EXACTLY and ONLY like dip-dye fashion.  Every time I see it, I think, "Oh.  Dip-dye."   We're not talking about watercolor painting here. 



Ombre dyed clothes evoke flood damage.  Or somebody who dragged their hem through a puddle of waste water outside a Levi's factory.



Also...

a) a litmus paper pH-balance urine test.

b) a laundry mistake made by a small child, who is subsequently spanked.

c) a shirttail that landed in Ti-D-Bol water while you were sitting on the toilet.

d) a clever attempt to camouflage a wine stain.

e) a mildewed bathroom wall.

OK, I'm done (but if you have others, please share them).

Why is this trend happening now?  Surely my friend Claudine couldn't be solely responsible.

And then there's ombre dying's latest cheerleader, blogger Mainely Dad.  Whoever thought he'd ever be dipping his toe shirt into this trend?

Readers, I must ask:  Where do you stand on dip-dye fashion?

Do you, like me, see nothing more than a misguided homage to summer camp tie-dye projects, but made by adults who apparently don't own any rubber bands?

Have you -- shudder -- ever dipped your duds in ombre dye yourself and didn't it stain 1) your hands, 2) your sink, and 3) your local water supply?

Dip-dye fashion -- YEA or NAY?

Things I Don't Get, Vol 12 -- The $2,025 Vintage Sundress Pattern

Yes, you read that correctly: two thousand and twenty-five dollars.  For a sundress pattern on eBay.  Yesterday.

And that doesn't even include shipping!

Here's the original listing. 

Friends, I have always tried to live by the adage, "Judge not, lest ye be judged," but honestly, don't you think $2,025 is a bit steep for a vintage sundress pattern?  (It's not even a Paris Original!)

How did I learn about this?  Well, I just happened to be perusing the pattern auctions on eBay, my favorite way to fritter away the hours.  The sundress auction, already sky-high, was just about to end and when it did, Michael insisted I check out what it finally went for.  So I did.

Now I too bought a sundress pattern on eBay yesterday.  Only mine was $5.99 (five dollars and ninety-nine cents).   And I think mine is prettier!



Correct me if I'm wrong, but my understanding is that mail order patterns are generally less valuable than patterns by the big commercial pattern companies.  Never heard of mail order?  These were patterns that, presumably, one ordered through the mail.  The name on the pattern was often Marian Martin or Anne Adams, as well as other, more obscure names.  The artwork was usually black and white and the general presentation a bit cut-rate.







There are a zillion vintage mail order patterns for sale currently on Etsy, including sundresses galore, and let me assure you that not a single one is selling for more than $1,000.  Make that $100.  And usually much, much, much less.



So why did one particular pattern go for $2,025?  That, my friends, is my question for you.

Here's a second look:



Naturally, to drive an auction into the stratosphere, all you need are two people who are willing to bid it up.  I get that.

Why do you think this pattern went for so much?  Again, check out the the original listing (you'll have to scroll down the page on eBay a bit).  Is the pattern envelope filled with gold shavings?  Is the pattern signed by Betsy Ross?  Does it come with dinner for two at La Bernardin?

Would you ever spend $2,025 on something that didn't come with power steering?

What's the most you've ever bid for a vintage pattern (again, we don't judge here at MPB)?

Jump in!

Pea Coat, Version 2.0?

Am I ready to make another coat?

I actually feel more excited about a donegal wool pea coat than I did about the one I just made in coated cotton canvas.   I am hoping it will look similar to this:



Here's the tweed I purchased a few weeks ago:



This tweed version will require more hand sewing, but I expect the wool to be easier to work with and much more forgiving, since the coated canvas didn't ease and any ripped seams left visible marks in the coating.  Plus, I'm much more familiar with the whole coat-making process, so I know what to expect.  And I will have more time: there's nothing else I plan on sewing this month.

I have to dive in and stay focused.  Less padding around flea markets and more pad stitching.

One of my goals with this upcoming coat is to get more comfortable working with hair canvas.  I've used it now and then (mostly in collars) but I've never interfaced a whole garment with it.  (I'll be interfacing primarily the two fronts, along with the collar and collar stand.)

In other news, I did some bike riding this afternoon (temperature in the mid-40's) in my cotton canvas pea coat and it was very comfortable to wear -- and it breathed!  One of the reasons I'm excited about making a tweed coat is that the canvas coat is a little light for the colder weather ahead. 

I think I have all the supplies I need as well as the tools.  Time to bite the bullet.

Are you finding your energy flags more easily on these late autumn days when it's already dark at 4:30 pm?  Mine certainly does.

Have a great day, everybody!

Gifts For Cathy + "Who Wears It Best?"

Friends, I don't formally celebrate any of those gift-giving holidays this time of year, but there's something about the season that makes one want to buy stuff.  Am I right?

I won't go into detail about the sewing machine auction I lost yesterday, though if you follow me on Twitter, you've heard the story.

So naturally, when I went to the flea market this morning it was in hopes I'd find some fabulous sewing machine there.  But all I saw was this sorry Singer 128.  How depressing.



I did pick up a few things, though.  I'm a sucker for $3 CD's.



And who can resist rhinestone dangle earrings, perfect for a 1920's evening ensemble, also for $3.



It's pretty easy to buy things for Cathy: she needs so much.

I'd almost forgotten the gift I'd bought for my cousin late last week until I saw the box on my doorstep today.  Naturally I opened it immediately -- she won't mind.









Aren't these rhinestone-studded lucite folding glasses (or lorgnettes) the most absurdly glamorous mid-century accessory ever??



Naturally, we all had to try them on.  Who do you think wears them best?

Michael?



Me?

Very "Far Side"

Freddy?



Willy?



They're actually great readers too since their lenses magnify, so they'll be handy when I need to read a menu or thread a needle.

Anyway, friends, I am trying to keep my spending under control and I hope you will support me in that.  Still, I could use a pair of bedroom slippers and a few new patterns wouldn't break the bank...

What are hoping that Santa will bring YOU this year?

Have a great day, everybody!