one of my recent hand sewing projects was a modern version of a women’s chemise or shift. shifts or chemises were a kind of undergarment worn by women probably since the middle ages or even earlier. they ususally were made from linen, hand sewn (of course) and the piece of clothing that was worn directly on the skin. it was the piece of clothing that could be washed easily, much easier than all the layers worn over a chemise, like stays, petticoats, bedgowns/shortgowns, aprons, etc.
construction-wise they were ususally quite simple, often made from triangles and rectangles of fabric. i own a hand sewn chemise that was made sometime in the 1920ies, which i had bought because of the many parts that had been mended. i don’t know how this piece came to be in the 1920ies, as women’s underwear had already changed by then and chemises fell out of fashion. this is an image (taken by johanna of la grosse toile who i bought this piece from) of my chemise, meant to be used in workshops to showcase mending techniques through the ages:
because i meant to use it as a demonstration piece, i never actually had tried it on or worn it. recently though, i tried it on and found out it did not only fit really well, it was also really comfortable. i was out of a sewing project at that time and my fingers were badly in need of something to sew, so i though why not make the female counterpart to my modern regency shirt; a chemise made from a modern fabric to be worn as a comfortable summer dress.
i roughly took the pattern from the historic chemise and also followed most of the original construction. just like in the orginal, all seams are felled. the things i changed are the neck drawstring tunnel (the original has a tape sewn on on the wrong side as drawstring tunnel) – i hemmed the neck opening and used the hem as drawstring tunnel with a line of top stitching added for more stability – plus i added pockets.
this was really a quick and easy sewing project, especially as no translation from a machine sewing pattern to hand sewing was needed. two triangular pieces for the chemise, plus the sleeves, two pockets (i copied the rough shape off of pockets of another skirt), done. i used merchant & mills hand woven ikat fabric.
now really all i need are some warm days, so i can finally wear this dress.
i’ve been intrigued by quilting for quite a while. mostly it was the technique of using even the tiniest scrap of fabric and work it into something new. but then there is also the tactile quality of quilts – i love running my fingers over the crinkly, wavy structures of fabric and thread, it’s just a very pleasant feeling. the design possibilities are endless. and then there’s also the element of heirloom quilts that have been passed on from generations to generations, keeping people warm and hugged, being mended and changed and reused over and over again. so many layers of meaning and making that have kept me curious.
recently i came across the idea of tiny quilts and took part in a community quilting exercise on creativity and newness organised by zak foster and amanda nadig, which was a great way to start playing with quilting on a small scale.
out of this came three tiny quilts in total. i also revisited an old project of mine from two or three years ago where i mended/reconstructed an old pillowcase of mine into something that i would now also consider a tiny quilt.
all of these are completely stitched by hand – both the piecing and the quilting. they are playful little projects for one or two afternoons and i really enjoy making them. somehow it’s helpful to make things that don’t need to be useful and only exist because i enjoy the process of making them. i’ll probably do a few more every now and then, in between larger projects or whenever i need some headspace.
materials are mostly antique/vintage/second hand, apart from very few scraps that are store bought.
iron mordant or iron water, or more precisely iron(II) acetate, is a very versatile and easy to make substance to use in dyeing and woodworking. it reacts with tannin-rich wood and turns it darker. for fabric and thread dyeing it turns dyes into a greenish direction or makes dyes darker and more dull. with some dyes, like avocado, it creates a different colour even. it’s a pretty fascinating and useful thing to have.
here’s how to make your own iron mordant:
you need: – some scrap iron (rusty nails, steel wire, washers, etc…); i often pick up small rusty things whenever i find them, especially aras near construction sites often have little bits of rusty iron lying around. or when you’re out litter picking, keep anything rusty. steel wool works as well, if you can’t get hold of rusty stuff. – vinegar or vinegar essence – water – two glass jars
put your rusty bits and pieces into the jar and cover with vinegar. if you work with vinegar essence, dilute first in order to get to a concetration of vinegar. follow the instruction on the bottle lable to do that; the vinegar essence we ususally have in supermarkets here needs to be diluted in a 1:4 ratio (1 part essence, 4 parts water).
cover with a lid, but don’t screw on tightly!!! the chemical reaction between acetic acid and rusty iron produces hydrogen. the amounts are small and safe to just dissolve in the air, but it needs to be able to escape the jar. a tight lid might have pressure adding up inside the jar and make it explode – you don’t want that!!! just remember – loose lid, and it’s a perfectly safe thing to make at home.
after one day, pour your solution into the second jar, leaving the rusty bits exposed to air; best to put no lid on. on the next day, pour your solution back on the rusty parts. alternate every day between having the rusty iron exposed to air and covered in liquid.
the liquid should turn a lovely rusty colour quite soon, a sign that it’s ready to use.
if you use it for woodworking, it’s good to go directly from the jar. if you use it for mordanting textile fibers, you need to dilute it with water, in a ratio of 1:2 (1 part iron mordant solution, 2 parts water).
or, leave it as is and only add a small amount to your dye if you want to modify your dye. this works well with avocado. iron mordant turns the pink shades of avocado into a lovely purple. to do this, you would use your avocado dye process, take out your dyed fiber, add iron solution to your dye pot (you should see the colour change immediately), stir and add the dyed fiber back into the pot and let it sit until the colour looks like you want it to.
here is an example of iron mordant solution on oak wood (also notice the bristles of the brush; they are animal fiber and also react with the solution):
iron solution on an oak wood frame:
iron solution on oak wood frame (hand plained and brushed, treated with iron mordant solution, finished with danish oil; made by @orcoyoyo):
and here is an example of avocado dyed thread and fabric, the pink ones are avocado only, the purple ones were modified with iron(II) acetate:
there are so many more variations with different plant dyes and iron mordant solution, and i’ll keep exploring and experimenting.
my latest hand sewing project was a shirt dress made the way men’s shirts were made around the 1800s. i wanted to use the same construction with a modern fabric to make an everyday wearable garment.
the original plan was to make this shirt dress from linen, but as i didn’t have a fitting weight of vintage linen at home, instead of buying new fabric, i searched for something else instead. i found a set of vintage cotton bed linens, most likely weaved in austria, that looked like it could work and i could imagine myself wearing it.
what intrigued me about the shirt construction is that these shirts are made entirely out of square pieces of fabric. this means that there are no or almost no off-cuts, so no fabric waste is left. nowadays we would call this zero waste, but not so long ago, fabric was so valuable and expensive, people would natrually construct their clothes in a way to not waste any of the fabric. this was no fashion trend or anything, it was just sensible.
the way these shirts were made also meant they would adapt their fit quite easily for differently shaped bodies. they were not exactly one size, but a body was definitely allowed to change its shape and the garment would still fit.
and they were incredibly sturdy, so a shirt could take a lot of wear and still be intact or mendable. the parts that take the most strain are strengthened in various ways.
all in all, a very clever and sensible approach to making clothing, even though today’s fashion industry wants us to believe differently.
i shared most of the steps of how to make a shirt like this over at instagram in a highlight: -> regency shirt
oh, and a bee came to visit when we were taking photos:
it’s a really comfortable piece to wear, either with jeans or leggins/tights, or once it’s warmer simply as dress. i might make another one at some point, now that i have an idea about the general construction. also, if anyone has questions and wants to make their own, i’m always happy to answer questions and support to the best of my abilities.
recent batches of thread, dyed with brown onion skins and then mixed with leftover tagetes dye. from left to right: onion & tagetes, third dye bath, second dye bath and on the right pure onion skin, first dye bath; vintage cotton embroidery thread.
what you will need: – onion skins (i used yellow ones here, but of course red ones or a mix of red and brown work just fine); i ususally collect all onion skins when cooking and store them in a paper bag. only use the dry, yellow/red parts, no fleshy bits, as they would start to rot and smell. – a cooking pot large enough to hold your fabric or thread to be able to move around freely – a colander or strainer of some sorts to strain off the onion skins once the dye has been extracted – a muslin cloth or any other cloth to strain out fine particles – a tea towel works fine. just make sure it’s okay to dye/discolour that piece of fabric. – wooden spoon or something else to stir – may also discolour in the process – gloves – not really necessary; but if you want to make 100% sure not any tiny bit of yellowish colour stays on your skin, use gloves. i never do with onion dye, though. – fabric or thread for dyeing (any animal fiber or natural fiber will work; i usually dye cotton or linen or a cotton/linen mix and don’t have much experience with animal fiber like wool and silk; they take colour beautifully, though). in this example i’m dyeing cotton embroidery thread.
to prepare beforehand – scouring your fabric/thread (speaking about cotton and linen here, this guide is not for silk or wool!!!) in order to prepare the fiber to take up the dye as best as possible, you need to remove all possible dirt, dust, grease, … even newly bought fabric or thread has residue from spinning and weaving that you need to remove. for fabric, wash accordingly, and then there are two options: – either machine wash at 95° celsius with baking soda – or (especially small pieces or small amounts) put in a pot with water and baking soda and bring to a boil, then simmer for appr. one hour. strain off the water (you will now see how much residue will have come out by the colour of the water) and rinse thoroughly until the water runs clear.
for scouring thread i always use the “simmer in a pot” method. roll the thread into a loose loop and secure it losely so it doesn’t fall apart and tangles up. tie up in one or more places, but keep it lose enough, so you don’t accidentally create a part that can’t take up the dye (this would be called a resist dye technique, which in case you want to create unevenly dyed thread is a nice technique; just don’t do this by accident). when stirring, do so very gently and try not to tangle up the thread too much.
if you dry your material after scouring and before dyeing, make sure to pre-wet it before it goes into the dye pot.
extracting the dye: put all the collected onion skins into your pot and cover with water.
put the pot on the stove and bring the water to a boil. once it has heated up, keep it simmering for at least half an hour. depending on what you want to achieve, use more or less onion skins and let it simmer a bit longer or shorter. the more skins, the more intense your dye will get. keeping the heat below a boil will bring out more of the yellow tones, boiling it will shift the colour more towards orange/rust in brown onion skins. you’ll see the colour of your dye bath change pretty quickly, the skins give off colour quite easily.
once you have extracted the dye, strain off the skins by using a colander/sieve/strainer lined with muslin cloth. make sure to squeeze out all the dye still left in the skins. pour your dye back into the pot.
dyeing: now you’re ready to dye your fabric or thread. for dyeing with onion skin you don’t need to mordant your fabric beforehand, which makes it really easy and quick. take your previously scoured fabric or thread (make sure it’s wet before it goes into the dye pot – soaking longer is better, wetting it quickly is better than dry) and put it into the dye. now start heating the dye up and bring it to a simmer. let it simmer for half an hour or hour – check the colour of your fabric or thread. stir gently to move the material around so the dye can spread more evenly. you can let the material sit in the dye bath over night after it has cooled down. or take it out earlier, if you like the colour. just take into account that the colour looks more intense when it’s still wet and not yet rinsed. once you like the colour, take out your material and wring it out. hang to dry. i usually wait a few days up to two weeks before i rinse out excess dye. it helps the dye stick to the fiber a bit better. but if you’re too curious to wait, rinse right away until the water runs clear and hang up to dry.
you can use the dye bath more than once, until you have used up all colour. if i want to re-use it, but not right away, i pour it into strage jars with a screw lid when it’s still hot (put a wet towel under the glass container, so they don’t break from the heat; and best put them into your sink when pouring, so even if they break you don’t mess up your whole kitchen), screw the lid on and the jars will seal themselves shut when cooling down. this way you can store your dye for a few weeks before re-using.
here is a skein of onion dyed embroidery thread – already dried, but not yet rinsed. look at those wonderful orange-red-rusty tones!
it is a very straightforward dye made out of food waste, so give it a go – it’s fun and really easy. the tones you get are always beautiful.
i’m happy to answer questions, just leave me a message right here. and also do let me know if you tried out dyeing with onion skins, i’d be happy to see your results!
usually i do work on several projects at the same time. i have always worked like this, it’s the same with books – never just one.
so, one of my current long term projects is an antique linen scarf. it used to be a pillow case which i took apart. the linen is of a beautiful quality, handwoven, a wonderful linen sheen, drapes really nicely. it is has also thinned out a lot, it’s around 100 years old after all.
originally i wanted to keep it white and visibly mend all the worn out areas with vintage buttonhole silk. i did do a few of those mends. then, in summer 2020 i took a workshop in plant dyeing and dyed the whole piece with indigo.
then it sat for a while, as i wasn’t sure how to progress. the next idea was then to cover it with sashiko stitched geometric patterns, thus strengthening the fabric and keeping it from wearing out more. turns out, the fabric did only want to be stitched along the grain. so, i decided to listen and cover the whole piece in rows and rows of parallel sashiko stitching. this will take a while, but i’m not in a hurry. i stitch a few rows whenever i feel like it. whenever i come across another thinned out area, i mend it, patch it, and stitch on. i kept all the prior ideas in terms of stitching – taking out would have made the fabric deteriorate even more, and somehow i found it nice to have all stages of this project visible in some way; also visualising the way my stiching has already changed over time, and i’m sure it will keep doing so. and that’s just what learning is – practicing and having the practice change you and your work.
this is how thin the fabric is, it’s almost see-through.
a patched area:
and some mended areas that pre-date me, they already existed when i bought the pillow case; plus a hand stitched monogram. i really like finding mended areas in vintage or antique fabrics. they are traces of the textile’s story.
and a close up of the layers of sashiko stitching. the white ones were my first attempt. now the whole piece will be covered in stitches like the blue ones, in different shades of indigo dyed thread by Sashi.Co. on another note, if you want to know more about sashiko and hear the voices of japanese people who have been practicing sashiko throughout several generations, check out the instagram and youtube of atsushi from Sashi.Co (or Upcycle Stitches, which is their us website). sashiko is much more than just running stitches on fabric. there is a deep history and culture attached to sashiko, and i really recommend to get a glimpse into this world by listening and learning and not just copying a style.