Quilts UK and Malvern

A long time ago (a very long time ago in fact) I made several patchwork quilts. I haven’t done any quilting for ages, but I’m thinking of having another go, for reasons which I’ll explain if I ever get round to starting. Anyway, just thinking about it seemed like reason enough to go to the Quilts UK show at the Three Counties Showground in Malvern last weekend.

What follows is a lot of pictures of some of the quilts which I could get close enough to photograph, albeit rarely facing straight on. There were others which never seemed to be without a crowd around them.

I took this one before I realized that it made sense to take pictures with some sort of aid to attribution included, so unfortunately I have no details for it. Apologies.

Mystery quilt

This quilt, “Love-in-a-Mist” by Liz Jones, was the Quilts UK 2015 Overall Champion. Judging from the number of rosettes pinned around it, it also won several other prizes.

Love-in-a-Mist

Love-in-a-Mist, detail

Just so that you can see how small it is, I photographed the winner of the Miniature Quilts section next to its label and rosette.

Mini Medallion, by Jane Wheble

Everyone who looked at this was impressed by the sharpness of the points of the rays.

Mini Medallion, close-up

There was more sharp piecing on “Whistler: Fire and Ice” by Annelize Littlefair.

Whistler: Fire and Ice, centre detail

I loved the fact that the dual colouring, for example in the brown sections, was achieved by very dense quilting.

Whistler: Fire and Ice

Colour positioning was never a strong point of mine, so I'm always impressed by people who can do it well.

Hot Sahara, by Lyn Langford

There again, sometimes you don't need a lot of colours to make a statement.

Cappuccino, by Gwenfai Rees Griffiths

Cappuccino, centre detail

The Wapley Hill Tree in Winter, by Maggie Farmer

Beading details on the tree trunk

Storm at Sea has always been one of my favourite blocks; I love the curved effect achieved from straight lines. It was a particularly appropriate block for a quilt celebrating the 50th anniversary of Porthcawl's Royal National Lifeboat Institution Station.

Rays of Gold, by Bridgend Quilters

Also curves from straight lines, I'd never come across twisted log cabin blocks before, but I really liked the effect.

Round the Twist, by Maggie Annable

Round the Twist, centre block

Obviously there were lots of appliqué quilts as well as pieced ones.

Cactus Rose, by Ray Lawrence and Maureen Crawford

Morris Dance, by Judith Wilson

This quilt, "Masquerade" by Birgit Schueller, was inspired by the Mardi-Gras-themed fabric in the centre of the stars.

Masquerade

Detail showing the inspiration fabric

The masks have coloured fibres trapped under the thread painting to add to the rich effect, some are just visible above the pink quilted feather.

The masks in the centre

Quilting detail

This is only a fraction of the quilts and hangings on show, and unfortunately none of my photographs of the wholecloth quilts came out well enough to include.

As I was staying in the area for a few days, the next day I went for a walk. Most of the area around the Malverns is either rolling hills . . .

Looking west

. . . or very flat indeed.

Looking east, with Great Malvern in the foreground

But in the middle is this.

Part of the Malvern Hills, from the Three Counties Showground

It's a popular area with walkers, and the clearly marked paths mean that even if your map-reading skills have got a bit rusty, like mine, you can't go far wrong.

Sugarloaf Hill and North Hill

I walked up to the Worcestershire Beacon, the highest point of the Malvern Hills at 425 m / 1,394 ft. It's a long time since I've been out for that sort of walk, and I felt every foot of the climb!

The Beacon, looking north

Fortunately I could take a break on the way up. In the nineteenth century Malvern was a spa town, its pure water famous for "containing nothing at all". One of the many springs on the hills was St Ann's Well. The spring is now housed in this little building, which is also a cafe.

St Ann's Well

After all this I fancied a trip to somewhere flatter, so spent a day in Cheltenham, where I found something which looked very familiar. But that's a subject for another post.

Hat Trick!

My millinery spree continues! After working with sinamay and fabric/buckram, I’ve now made a third hat, this time from the traditional hatting material of felt.

Well, sort of traditional. The hat was made over several weeks on an evening course at Hat Works, and we started off by making our own felt. I forgot to take any photos of the first part of the process, but we began by laying out pieces of teased out wool fleece on a textured mat. The fleece was placed in two layers, one with the fibres running vertically, and one with them running horizontally. Finally we added a few lengths of coloured fleece. The layers were then thoroughly wetted (and I mean 'thoroughly' - the tables were awash) with soapy water, and the mat rolled up into a tube, which was then rolled back and forth.

Fleece, mat, and an awful lot of water

This causes the fleece to felt; the wool fibres hook into one another, and the whole piece shrinks into a more solid mass.

The completed felt

Because the course was all about processes we could recreate at home, we didn’t use hat blocks to shape our hats. Instead they were blocked over household objects such as plastic jugs. First of all we put on a piece of wetted blocking net, and secured it with an elastic band. This stiffens when it dries, and forms the basis of the hat.

Stretching the net over the block/jug

Then we placed our felt over the top, considering the best placement of the coloured sections, and secured that in place as well. The whole thing was then left to dry thoroughly.

And stretching the felt over the top

The next week we had to decide how deep we wanted our hats to be, and sew round what would become the bottom of the hat, before taking it off the block. Then came the scary part; cutting off the excess felt!

Cut down to size, and starting to look hat-like

After that we stitched brim wire round the edge, to stiffen it.

The inside of the hat, and the sewn-on brim wire

Now the fun bit! Lorna the tutor had brought lots of luscious feather trims for us to work with, including peacock feathers, and a strip of iridescent teal and turquoise feathers which were perfect for my colour scheme. There was also a bag of fabric flowers for us to rummage through, where I found some crumpled and rather sad-looking blue five-petal flower shapes.

Feathers galore! - and the flowers just above my hat

I started off by couching some long strands of a peacock feather over the coloured strips of my hat. This also had the advantage of anchoring the strips to the white felt; they hadn’t felted in properly.

Peacock feather strands couched on to accentuate the coloured strips

Then at the front of the hat I added two small clusters of peacock feather strands and the teal and turquoise feathers.

Once all the feathers were in place, it was time to bind the raw edge. This also covered the ends of the feathers. I found some home-made blue crepe binding which I had made but not used for Granny’s collar, which was the perfect colour.

Finally I pressed the fabric flowers flat, painted the edges and part of the petals with bronze fabric paint, and curved the petals with a ball tool. In the end I only put one on the hat, and secured it in place with some dark bronze beads. Finally I added a couple of iridescent leaf-shaped beads underneath.

The completed flower (slightly bent in transit, I've not have time to fix it yet)

The hat is lined with a bias strip, gathered at the centre. Lorna showed us a gathering stitch which is a combination of overcast and running stitches, and which gives a lovely scalloped edge when pulled up; I can see this being used on other trims.

A sample of the gathering stitch

A small piece of the lining fabric was sewn under the central hole.

The completed lining

Finally we put elastic in the hats to hold them in place, and attached the lining.

The lining and elastic in place

The completed hat

Much as I like the end result (and a big thank you to tutor Lorna Young for a fabulous course), I can’t help thinking that a small veil would finish it off perfectly. It just so happens that I’m going on a veiling course in a couple of months, so watch this space!

Me-Made-Mayhem

It's the month after April and before June, which means that So, Zo. . . What do you know is again hosting Me-Made-May; a chance to celebrate handmade clothing in all its glory.

Pretty much all of my work wardrobe is now me-made, so I considered what other areas of my life could benefit from a little me-made-ness, and decided to make a coat. Specifically, this coat.

I've had this pattern for so long that it's now out of print! I love it, but I suspect that the complete lack of fastening means that this is not the most practical garment for keeping you warm. Ideal then for late spring, or the chillier days of a British summer.

In my local fabric shop I found a red/black remnant in a large check, which seemed perfect for the 1950s look. Along one selvedge it had some large stitches in yellow thread, which I assumed were holding a tear together. However when I turned it over, I found that it was actually this.

Stitched information

I've no idea what it means, but it's fascinating!

The collar and cuffs are to be plain black - another remnant. I decided that for the lining I would really like something other than standard lining fabric, but wasn't sure what. Then on yet another visit to the fabric shop (it's the first shop I come to when I walk into town, I always walk when I go into town, and I rarely get past there without just 'popping in for a look'), I found this.

Both sides of my 'lining' fabric

I wasn't sure which way round to use it, but eventually decided that the darker side - at the bottom of the picture, and I think the wrong side - would look better.

So I cut everything out, and got started. I made up the main part of the coat, and I made up the lining and facing. Then I noticed a couple of things, and they were not good things.

Bad Thing number one:

I had carefully cut out all the coat pieces from a single layer of fabric, so that I could match the pattern. The centre back seam matched nicely, . . .

. . . one side seam matched nicely, . . .

. . . and one shoulder seam matched nicely.

Shoulder seam and sleeve head

What the heck I was thinking when I cut the fronts out, I have no idea! The pattern matches horizontally, but not vertically. Look at the the sleeve seams and the darts, and it's obvious.

???!**?

I have a plan of sorts. I'll cut a strip off the right front, tapering up to the neck. It means that one side will be slightly wider than the other, but because the coat is so full, I'm hoping it won't be obvious. That way the fronts will be symmetrical most of the way down, and hopefully the black facing will cover most of the mismatch at the top.

Bad Thing number two:

The check fabric is very loosely woven; so much so that in places the lining is visible through it, and the coat doesn't hold its shape at all well. I really should have noticed this before I started, and underlined the pieces. So now I'm considering whether retrospective flatlining is desirable/feasible/ going to drive me insane. However, as I've got a couple of commissions to do, and May's Historical Sew Monthly project, this consideration may go on for some time!

Vogue 7464, view C

As mentioned in my previous post, here are my notes on making up Vintage Vogue pattern 7464, view C.

First of all, a couple of explanations. Firstly, these instructions are for view C only. If you are making view B, there is an excellent tutorial here. Secondly these are my observations on the instructions which come with the pattern, they are not a substitute.

Now that’s all clear, let’s get started. The patterns calls for silk taffeta, but I used synthetic, and I don’t think it had an adverse effect. I used a plain, shot fabric (orange and black) because that was all I could get, and I think that a checked fabric like the one in the illustration would have looked better.

You begin by cutting out two brims from buckram*, basting them together, and turning under 6mm / ¼“ round the outer edge. I made one brim slightly larger to allow for turn of cloth, but it wasn’t necessary, as the staggered raw edge is entirely covered by the taffeta.

Fabric scrap showing the orange weft, and the buckram brim

The instructions say to sew 3mm / ⅛” from the pressed edge, and then feed the wire into the stitched channel. Try as I might, I couldn’t get the wire to go in any further than a few centimetres. In the end I unpicked all the stitching, placed the wire against the fold, and hand sewed through the machine stitching holes with a stab stitch. This worked well, and if I used this technique again I would probably ‘sew’ round the brim without any thread in the machine to make the holes, as four layers of buckram is a lot to sew through by hand.

Making up the first bias section and attaching it to the brim is straightforward. Be aware though that contrary to the illustration, it does not lie flat, but turns under slightly on the outer edge.

First bias section basted onto the brim

Next turn the brim over, and gather up the other edge of the bias.

Bias gathered round the brim

The second bias section covers the remaining buckram. It’s not obvious from the illustration, but the outer edge will not lie flat on the brim.

The second bias section basted in place

This means that when you come to machine the bias onto the buckram, there will be some pleats in the outer edge. The machine sewing will show on both the top and underside of the brim, so it’s best to be as neat as possible.

The second bias section stitched in place

Attaching the crown to the brim is tricky. Although the instructions say to “Stitch close to the curved edge”, I found it easier to stitch a generous 6mm / ¼“ from the raw edge, with a slightly smaller stitch length than usual, and then clip to the stitching.

It is the curved edge, not the straight edge, which is attached to the brim. I did this on my beginners’ lace pillow (a square of poystyrene with a cotton cover). I pinned straight through both crown and brim and into the pillow, then carefully eased the brim away from the pillow, which had the effect of pulling the pins all the way through.

The crown, with its clipped edge, pinned onto the brim

Again the illustration is misleading at this point. It shows the crown with creases in it, while the actual hat looks alarmingly pointy, and like something for a small witch!

While trying hard to stop singing, “Ding dong, the witch is dead”, I made up and attached the third bias section. The bias is only attached to the brim, not the crown. Stretching it as you sew helps the free edge stay close to the crown.

Although the instructions don't say so, the ribbons need to be attached to the hat with the short end uppermost, otherwise they will not hang correctly when the hat is worn (something which I only worked out once I had sewn them on, wrongly!).

How the ribbon should be attached

The buckram stay is bigger than it needs to be, and has to be trimmed to fit inside the crown of the hat. I marked the cutting line, and then did a line of running stitch just inside the line, to stop the stay from stretching out as it was handled.

The stay, showing the amended cutting line and the stitching

Although the instructions state to sew the bias onto the brim and then glue it to the crown, I don’t like gluing if I can help it. Instead I gathered the inner edge of the bias, sewed it onto the underside of the stay, put the stay in place, and then sewed the outer edge of the bias onto the brim.

The stay, with the bias strip attached, ready to be sewn to the brim

The illustration for attaching the bow to the brim is wrong. The bow pieces need to be attached right side up, not wrong side up.

One of the bow pieces in place

The brim is then bent up, and sewed to the top of the crown. This finally gets rid of the pointy/witchy look. I creased the crown slightly before I sewed it, to get it into an attractive shape. The sewing needs to be firm, otherwise the two sections will pull apart. For extra security, I made sure at least some of my stitches went inside the wire in the brim.

The brim sewn onto the now bent crown

And there you have it, an early 1940s hat.

I deliberately used a ribbon close to my hair colour, but the tails of the bow cover quite a lot of it, and a suitably 1940s up-do will cover some more.

I also found that putting my hair into a roll at the back provided extra bulk to hold the ribbon in place.

With hindsight, I would have used a different coloured fabric for the third bias section and the bow. The hat is undeniably fiddly to make in places, possibly because it uses unfamiliar techniques, but I’m pleased with the end result - I feel as if I should be leaning out of a railway carriage on Carnforth station!

Hopefully these notes have made the whole process a bit clearer. If you have any questions, please leave a comment below, and I’ll do my best to help.

* - Update 11 May 2020
The pattern calls for 'buckram', so I bought what my local fabric shop sells as under that name. Because I knew very little about hatmaking at the time, I didn't realise that what I had purchased was pelmet buckram, not millinery buckram (see this post for an illustration of the differences).  Apart from the difficulty sewing through the layers, it worked fine. Personally I'm not sure if millinery buckram would be stiff enough for the brim; certainly you would have to position the two layers with the weave running in different directions.

War and Peace

(Or, getting even further ahead.)

It’s strange; I’ve never made a hat in my life, and then two come along at once! The Historical Sew Monthly challenge for April (yes, I am running a little late - again) was War and Peace, defined as,“Make something that shows the effects of war, or of extended peace”. As I was already booked on the course at Hat Works by then, it’s likely that hats were already on my mind, so I made an early 1940s hat.

Although in the 1930s hats were an essential part of a woman’s wardrobe, a number of books I’ve read suggest that the advent of World War II led to hat wearing being almost entirely abandoned, except as part of a uniform. Looking at photographs from the period though, it seems to me that while more women went bare-headed, hats were not discarded altogether. Press coverage of the upcoming anniversary of VE Day has included lots of photographs from May 1945, and there are always some women wearing hats.

VE Day in London, with a hat centre stage

An RAF officer, two members of the WRAF, and a civilian in an impressive hat

When clothes rationing was introduced in 1941 hats were not included, but they were classed as a luxury item, and subject to a high rate of tax. Clearly they were still being manufactured, as these cover illustrations from 1942 editions of the Hatters’ Gazette show.

Hatters' Gazette covers on display at Hat Works

As with so many items of clothing during the war years however, a certain amount of ingenuity and Make Do And Mend ensued. Hats were made at home from all sorts of materials; Forties Fashion by Jonathan Walford includes a hat crocheted from garden string!

I went for something slightly more straightforward. Vintage Vogue 7464 contains patterns for five hats based on styles from the 1930s and 1940s, and while most of them are made from felt, view C is made from taffeta. This seemed to me to be something which a home dressmaker could conceivably make.

Silk taffeta hat

Small, ‘percher’ style hats worn sloping over one eye seem to have been common in the early 1940s.

Women in a London street, 1941, © Imperial War Museum, London

1940s Fashion by Emmanuelle Dirix and Charlotte Fiell includes a number of examples, including a photograph of actress Vicki Lester wearing a silk hat very similar to that in the Vogue pattern.

Chartreuse, lavender and green silk taffeta hat, 1941

All the online reviews I read of the pattern suggested that it was, ahem, light on detail. Certainly compared to other Vintage Vogue patterns I have used, the instructions were very sketchy in places, and included one significant error. This may be down to its age: the pattern dates from 2000, and I think that Vogue have improved their vintage reissues a lot since then. The hat seemed to take forever to make, which is why I'm late posting about it. I’ll publish a step by step post separately, to save others some of the pain! (Now done, it's here.)

The (finally) completed hat

The small print:
The Challenge: War and Peace
Fabric: Synthetic taffeta and buckram
Pattern: Vogue 7464, view C
Year: Circa 1941/42
Notions: Millinery wire for brim
How historically accurate is it? In appearance very accurate. I’m not so sure about the fabric, so say 60%
Hours to complete: Far more than I even want to think about!
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: Taffeta remnant £5.10, wire £1.49, buckram from stash and pattern already owned, so £6.59