Chapter Eight : Not in Kansas anymore!

Visiting the garment district in Los Angeles is like an other world experience.  You pull off a Southern California freeway and within two blocks you'd think you'd been dropped into a middle Eastern souk or a Mexican street market.  Vendors on the street hawk bacon wrapped hot dogs, tacos, Central American pupusas, churros, and mangos slices on a stick.  A man sits on an upturned milk crate with a coconut on his knee as he deftly whacks off great slices of husk so that the milk can be drunk through a straw.  At a table set up on the sidewalk, a man sells sandals for $5.  Similar tables line the street selling sunglasses, piles of socks, makeup, costume jewelry, suitcases and purses.

But my reason for visiting the area is the fabric stores. Some no more than 10' by 10' holes in the wall, some much larger extending into murky depths, but all with fabric everywhere.  Great bolts of fabric line the walls, the shelves, and overflow onto the sidewalk.  Haggling is expected, even required.  Sales are in cash.  I chuckle to myself as a store owner actually utters the phrase "for you, lady, special price today".   I step over fabric bolts and squeeze between store workers and customers to work my way through each store looking for velvets, satins, and laces.  After a few years of coming here I have a good idea of how much fabrics should cost and how much they shouldn't.  Sometimes I make my choices and then bring in my husband to bargain and close the deal.  

Going to the garment district is like going to Disneyland for me.  I only get to do it a couple of times a year.   Negotiating the Los Angeles traffic is no picnic, after all.  It can easily be a six hour round trip from my home in San Diego.  And working my way through the stores, hauling bags of fabric around, and the sensory overload from all those colors and textures, noise and people, can be exhausting.  But it's so gratifying to find those luscious velvets and lovely shiny and sparkly fabrics that I can make into dresses.  Anything you want can be found in the L.A. garment district.

This time we combined a family trip to Universal Studios with a visit to the district on the way home.  (The suggestion by certain family members that I planned the trip to Universal only because we'd have to pass through the district to get there is really just an ugly rumor!)  Parking attendants with flags wave us into a lot on the roof (yes, the roof!) of a block of shops.  I try not to think about how well the building has been earthquake retrofitted.

With hubby and kids ensconced in the local Starbucks with books and an Ipad loaded with games, and with their patience bought with glasses of passion fruit ice tea, vanilla frappacinos and pastries, I make focused and efficient forays into the shops.  I return once in a while to unload my bags and  rehydrate, and then head out again.  At some point Meaghan discovers the $5 shoe vendor.  Apparently, her patience can also be bought with a strappy pair of white gladiator sandals.  Her younger sister Jocelyn is made happy with a couple of sparkly rings and a shiny bauble to hang around her neck.

Three or four hours later we're headed home, with the back of the van loaded up with fabrics, energy and money spent, and visions of dance dresses yet-to-be running through my head.

Chapter 7: The top half

Embroidery machines, I've come to find out, are a lot like kids and spouses and my cat Tiger. 

They love attention!  Wouldn't it seem reasonable that I could leave the Beast to run off a design on his own once he's all set up and chugging away while I go and make myself some lunch or throw in a load of laundry?  Think again!  I am reminded of those days when I would lay a sleeping baby in her crib and tip toe out the door only to have the wail of a demanding baby make me turn right around again. 

Embroidery machines do exactly the same.  They seem to come pre-programmed to stop the minute I walk out the door.  The Beast will come up with any number of excuses to call me back into the room.  And he's not alone in this. Even sweet Bertie the six needle does this.  They seem to get some perverse amusement from my frustration when I come back from picking up my kids from school to find that they only embroidered the first two minutes of a forty-five minute design.  In fact, I remember once getting only as far as the driveway when I heard the beep...beep...beep of a machine calling me from the sewing machine window.

But this blog is not about the trials and tribulations of life with embroidery machines.  Let's move on to patterns, as promised in the last chapter.   People often ask if there are patterns for Irish dance dresses.  The answer is yes and no.  There is the Feisdress pattern, which I used for Meaghan's first solo dress about five years ago, and the Irish Threads pattern.  And I've seen a vintage Irish Dance dress pattern with a soft A line skirt pop up now and again on Ebay.  But what I do is make my own.  Each and every customer gets their own custom dress as I fit the pattern directly on their bodies. 

I start with a basic princess line bodice. These aren't hard to find if you spend a little time looking through pattern books at the fabric store.  Don't be distracted by the pictures on the front of the pattern envelope.  Look instead at the line drawings and you'll find several princess seamed bodices.  You just have to be willing to alter what you find as you will not find anything in current pattern books that have a high neck, dropped waist, and bell sleeves. 

Here’s a trick:  look for vintage patterns online or even in your local thrift store as sometimes you can find styles from the 60's or 70's that do include those elements).  Once you've found a suitable bodice, start again looking for patterns that have a sleeve of the right sort and be ready to mix and match.  As for the skirt, well, that is going to take some ingenuity and a whole lot of big sheets of paper and a ruler.

A note on princess seamed bodices:  no, you don’t have to use them.  You could work with a darted bodice instead.  But the fit probably won’t be as nice, especially with fuller figures.  However, in cases where you want all-over embroidery, like the blue and black dress for Meaghan, you may need to forgo the princess seams. You can find darted bodices the same way as princess seamed ones.  Examine the line drawings on pattern envelopes.

Over the years I've developed a library of generally sized muslin bodice pieces.  I have some that are generally little-girl-size, generally young-teen-size, and generally fuller-figured-teen or adult size.  When I have a new client I pick the one closest to their size as a jumping off point.  I make them their own muslin bodice from the pieces in my library.  Then we have a first fitting.

Chapter 6 : Meaghan's Perspective

I like my mom's dresses. They are good designs. Each new one she makes for me is prettier than the last one. But the PROCESS of the dress is agony! I don't know much about designs so I don't really have an opinion, so don't believe the stuff my mom is writing for the other blogs about me! I don't know where they came up with that stuff!
      Okay, back to the subject. It really is worse having to do dress fittings whenever your mom says so. I mean, I could be doing something really important, like updating my Facebook page, or beating my dad at the Wii Fit, and mom could come running downstairs and declare she didn't get the right angle for a picture of my dress to put on her blog.
And that's the real truth.

Meaghan

You know when your embroidery machine makes an awful "ka-CHUNK!" sound followed by a pathetic "beep..beep..beep" that something has gone horribly wrong.  Today I had to rescue my poor Bertie (the little 6 needle machine, remember?) from a broken needle and a jammed needle shaft after she caught herself on a bad bit of stabilizer and ran into the edge of the hoop.  For those of you who do not own an embroidery machine, let me translate:  big boo-boo!  Thankfully, Bertie, bless her heart, is a forgiving little machine and was happy to continue sewing away after I righted her and rehooped the cape I was working on.  The incident was all my fault anyway - that will teach me to try to use left-over pieces of stabilizer.  I shudder to think what would have happened had the Beast been in such a position instead of Bertie!

I finished up the cape I was working on and set it aside for the client.  Now I get to focus on Meaghan's dress.  I took my fabric and plans to the TC last night and she liked it!  Woohoo!  I've revised the plan and embroidery design one last time (famous last words) and I'm anxious to start cutting and embroidering. Just as if this were for a client, I run off the final embroidery design on muslin before cutting into the real fabric. 

After taking a good long look at the result I decide some changes are in order so I head back to my embroidery software AGAIN!  Look at the difference between the first design on the final design:

I'll be using the Beast for the bodice piece because the area to be embroidered is about 12" x 19".  There's a lot of work that has to happen even before needle touches fabric.  First the embroidery design from Masterworks has to be converted into the Beast's preferred format and transferred to the machine.  The design has to be arranged just so, and turned 90 degrees before it ever gets sent across the cables.  If I don't transfer the design from Masterworks into the embroidery machine's software, plug the machine into the computer, oil up the Beast and turn him on, and open up his software all in the right order, the Beast won't even speak to me.  And just like a bad boyfriend, not only does he cut off all communication, but he won't even tell me why!  In the very beginning, it took much intervention from my engineer husband to figure out how to sweet talk the Beast into agreeing to embroider anything for me.  

The fabric takes some prep work too.  When cutting the face fabric, I always leave it a big large.  Precise cutting can wait until after it's all embroidered.  I cut out some fusible knit stabilizer, soak it in hot water and let it dry, and iron it to the piece of satin I've cut out for the bodice front.  Usually I work with three front bodice pieces, but due to the all-over nature of the embroidery, I'm going to work with a flat front and add a little dart if needed (since ds is still a pre-teen I can get away with that).  I hoop a piece of stabilizer in my big hoop and lay out some grid lines in pen.  I've laid out grid marks on the fabric too, but in chalk.  I never use sticky-back stabilizer, by the way (were you wondering?) because I hate the stuff.  I used to use a spray adhesive until the ladies at the sewing store informed me that it would give me lung cancer and even managed to imply that I should be reported to the ASPCA for endangering the health of my pets.  So I hid my last can of spray adhesive in the closet like a dirty little secret and only pull it out as a last resort.  Even then, I find myself glancing furtively around to make sure the sewing store ladies aren't watching.

Here's a secret trick to hooping fabric: just say NO. Nothing good ever came of hooping face fabric.  Hoop the stabilizer instead and just lay the fabric on top of it.  I have a pile of bent straight pins that I then use to pin the fabric onto the stabilizer.  But BEWARE!  Sweet Bertie can embroider right over a pin but not a pin head.  The Beast, on the other hand, has apoplexy if there is a needle in his path.   So I very cautiously pull pins out ahead of him as he very slowly bastes a box around the area to be embroidered.  I learned that trick from another dressmaker (maybe it was Ann of Taoknitter?)  Once that is done, I turn him up to full speed and breathe a sigh of relief. I pull on my noise canceling headphones while I start the process all over for the next piece of fabric to be embroidered.

I haven't talked about patterns for the bodice and the skirt yet.  That will be the next installment.

Chapter Four: The Design Process

All of my design work is done on an embroidery application called Masterworks.  Coming up with a successful design can be long and arduous and involve many different iterations until I come to one that I am pleased with.  All through this process I ask my husband, my daughters, and anyone so unwary as to come into earshot of the sewing room for feedback.  Does this look good?  Is it pretty? Are the figures too small or too big?  When you see it on stage, will it end up looking like some strange horned creature or scary face? (Have you ever noticed how many embroidery designs look like scary faces when you look at them long enough?) When I'm working with a customer I ask for tons of input - from the dancer, her mom, grandma (lots of grandmas are involved in the dress making process!).  Do they want swirly? Geometric? Celtic knotwork?   Simple or busy?  All down the bodice or just around the neck?  All the way up the sleeve or just around the cuff?  I design as much as I can to their requests.  But when it's dd, I can please myself!

I review pictures from the latest Oireachtas.  I look for what is new.  Would I like to do a diagonal design with two colors split down the middle?  Hmmm.  I’m not sure I’m crazy about that look. And what if she looks like she’s leaning to one side?  No, too chancy.  I’m seeing lots of vertical designs and embroidery that continues unbroken down into the yoke.  And loads and loads of fluffy skirts.  Crystals by the boatload.  DD doesn't actually need a new dress.  The last one I made her is still current and fits just fine.  But my main objective is to try out some new techniques, work with different fabrics, and test some different designs on my own dime rather than on a clients'.

I spend an evening in my living room playing around with little figures on the screen of my laptop while the rest of the family watches a movie.  I combine them this way and that way, flip things around, start over and try again.  I wish I had been blessed with even a speck of artistic ability.  Hubby steps in and makes his usual comments about my lack of symmetry.  I like things a little random, he likes proportion. Can you tell which one of us is the engineer?  So I eat some Christmas chocolates and try again.  Finally I end up with something I like.  And then I decide it won’t do at all and go at it again.  This time I solicit hubby’s input and he makes a few pointed suggestions.  I grumble but I try it and by golly, it actually does look better that way.  I decide to sleep on the design and let it simmer for a few days.  I come back to it now and then and move something around.  I put in about 6 or even 8 hours just working out the design stitch by stitch in the embroidery software.   When I’m finally satisfied I run off a sample on muslin.  I hold it up in front of me and look in a mirror.  I ask Meaghan if she likes it.  She says “yeah, I like it”.  I can’t believe that after all that effort I can’t even get an adjective out of her.  I ask again and she says “its fine, Mom” so I guess that will have to do.  She’s going on 12.  Can you tell?

In the picture is a shot of my computer program with the design I am working on for dd's dress.  It may go through some more revisions but it’s getting there. 

Embroidery design in process

Chapter 3 : Planning The Dress

Chapter 3: Planning the dress

When I'm designing for a customer, I bombard them with questions.  Usually they are surprised by the number of decisions that go into a dress design.  It's not as simple as just choosing a color and style and sending in measurements when you work with me.  (Although it certainly could be, if the customer wanted to just give me a list of colors and measurements and let me do to town on it.  But I've never had anyone take me up on that option!)

I ask questions they never expected until they develop opinions on things they didn't even know they could opine on!  I give them homework:  look at dresses everywhere and decide what they like.  There are loads of pictures online from major competitions that are a great place to start.  And if they are at a feis, they are to notice dresses around them.  They are to report back to me with ideas of what they like and don't like, the dress styles that interest them, and color combinations.  If they can get me a few pictures of what they like in a dress they get extra points.  It is that important  for me that they get exactly the dress they want down to each detail. I then go looking for fabrics so that I can offer the customer a variety of swatches.

As you can imagine, the process goes a lot faster when the dress I'm making is for my own daughter.  A dig through my stash of fabric (three or four plastic bins full plus yards of  velvet hanging in the closet) unearths some good bits that I'd forgotten that I even had.  Turquoise blue satin - one of her best colors.  And black velvet.  But not just any black velvet.  The one with the embossed black on black design or the one with silver glitter?  Meaghan says "but I already had a black and turquoise dress".  Yes, but it looks nice on her and shows up well on stage.  She's fine with it.  So long as I limit the fittings that I make her do to a minute thirty seconds, I can put her in anything I want.  Meaghan is NOT into standing still and IS into speed fittings.

OOH!  And I find a sample of turquoise organza that I purchased for a customer and didn't use.  It matches perfectly and I hope the store still has the same in stock.  Color combinations are interesting.  They either feel right to me or they don't.  If they feel wrong they give me an upset feeling in my stomach.  I run it all past hubby and two dance mom friends (did I mention this is what happens when you come into close proximity of my sewing room?)  They all like it, or say they do.  My stomach is pleased with the combination.  Good enough!

So I'm thinking turquoise satin bodice with black velvet vertical accents, turquoise sleeves and skirt yoke, with a V shaped band of black velvet edging the skirt yoke.  Embroidery in black (silver embroidery would look better on the blue, but when I put the crystals on I'm afraid it will all mush together and you won't see the embroidery from far away.)  The skirt will be turquoise organza - but made with a softer look than the super-curly cupcakes I've been doing.  Maybe I'll alternate with black organza ruffles.  I'll wait until I get to that point and see what looks good. 

Time to get to work on the embroidery design.

The Raw Material

Chapter 2 : The Factory Floor

Come along with me as I embark on the construction of (yet another!) solo dress for my daughter Meaghan. She's always my test dummy when I want to try out a new design or a new technique, or when I've just got a few extra minutes and can't convince my type-A personality to give it a rest.

I've been making a lot of cupcake skirts lately and I'd like to try a fluffy skirt that is less cupcake and more fluff. And oh my gosh, the white skirts! White is everywhere on solo dresses these days and although I like the look, just once I'd like to make a skirt in a strong color. Plus I'm thinking of an embroidery design that continues straight down the bodice front and into the skirt yoke instead of the V shape on the bodice and horizontal shape on the yoke that I've done so much of.

The Sewing Room

Before we start, here is my sewing room. The first machine on the left (with the blue cover) is what is known not-so-affectionately as "The Beast". This is a 15 needle industrial quality embroidery machine made by Toyota (and yes, before you ask, it cost about what you would expect to pay for any Toyota!). The Beast and I haven't quite made friends yet. You might say we've established an uneasy truce.

The factory floor

To the right of The Beast is the much friendlier "Bertie". Bertie and I have been through a lot together and have managed to stay friends. She's only got 6 needles and a much smaller hoop size, but has an even temperament and is much more forgiving of my human fallacies. Beside Bertie is the laptop where I do all of my design work, a serger, and my cutting table. All of these are important to the process but have never developed the personalities of The Beast and Bertie.

The sewing machine sits in the center of the room along with my ever present cup of tea. I've only knocked it to the floor once, and thankfully, my carpet is vaguely tea-colored anyway. Around the corner, outside of the picture, are my ironing board and a closet for storage. This is my sewing on a good day - when I'm not stepping over piles of fabric and projects in various stages, and I can actually see the surface of the cutting table.