wienerdog tricks.

Of Course I Did

Because this week was my son's tenth birthday. Because I haven't yet finished the bag that I promised my best friend for her birthday . . . in May. Because Christmas is right around the corner and I'm planning on giving as much handmade as I can--small quilts for the boys if I can swing it (of which I have completed one block, which I might not use). Because my vintage sheet quilting bee blocks are due next month. Because I still haven't finished gifts for the newlyweds. Because three of my friends had birthdays this summer and I haven't given them anything yet. Because I have one blouse project, one scarf project, one t-shirt refashioning project in the works,

I made myself this bag. 

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

The inside:

The happy polka-dotty back:

I used true-blue vintage polyester and this pattern (well, a version of it in my head, at least). AND I got to use one of my seatblelts and that's just super terrific. I didn't like the look of the gray webbing for the strap, so I used the clicker part and restrung it with a new strap and anchor. And yes, I can adjust the strap length. And yes I can click it open. Haaaaandy.

Here's me, super happy:

 

Here's the truth: sometimes when there's just way way way too much to do, the only answer is to do something else entirely.

The Story of the Polyester Quilt-et: Finished & Ready to Sit On

So I finished it. Really finished it. And I have to say that I don't know if I'll ever sew-faced-in-and-flip-out to topstitch. Maybe I'll always bind. I'm just saying.

There is apparently something about this picnic blanket that just wants to be sat on. It can't help itself. Bless its heart.

It seems to want company.

Which is, of course, a strength in a picnic blanket.

You'd think the thing was just plain old asking me to come and sit a bit.

But you and I both know that I tend to imagine things that aren't really there. 

So that's probably what happened.

P.S. A final note: It also boast's a mullet-like versatility. Here's the all-business-in-the-back denim/vintage sheet side:

The Story of the Polyester Quilt-et: So Far

Here's how the story starts: We're camping with friends--like really, really old friends. The kind of friends who you can guffaw at. 

So we're heading to the river for Group Splashing and Cheese Intake and Overall Good Times and some of this:

And I say, "Do anyone have a picnic blanket?" And he says. "Sure. I've got one right here." And then proceeds to pull from the back of his car an almost-exact replica of a rainbow bedsheet that I had in 7th grade for my waterbed. 

Um. Rainbow sheet? I say.

No--I bought this at the Black Sea when I was traveling Europe-wise and I take it everywhere. He says.

To which I say, I don't care if you bought it in the Republic Formerly Known as Prince, it's a 70's sheet.

He was internally bothered, but I know him and I know that secretly he just loves to riff about things like ugly picnic blankets, so there was no River Picnic Tension or anything. But I definitely left with a Plan: He needs a new picnic blanket. His (new) wife DEFINITELY needs a new picnic blanket. So I started making this--a polyester-topped, denim-bottomed faux-quilted picnic blanket:

Here's the rub, though: it began as a fairly easy-to-swallow color scheme (something that even a person who doesn't dream about old polyester color combos could love) and then as I began construction, it was really clear that I had to use more fabric and--because as you know, I am working with SCRAPS here, people--I had to add another color to just get Ground Coverage for the thing. And for me it had to be pink. The pink, though, has bumped it up a Funk Notch. And I may have entered the Oh Thanks For the Gift That You Should Have Given Yourself stratosphere.

Plus the truth is that I like it so much that I don't think I can give it away. 

PLUS I realized about 23% into the project my friend actually LIKES his Black Sea Rainbow Sheet and probably doesn't even really need this Picnic Quilt-Et. 

The Part about the Blanket

Picnic Blankets like these rough-backed ones are the best because of their sturdy backs and the happy soft tops. This one has a mostly-denim weight back with a strip of vintage sheet just for softness (and because my denim-weight scrap wasn't big enough.)
A good friend who sews faster and smarter than Martha herself (there: I said it) gave me one of these as a wedding gift. And we've used the heck out of the thing. But it's a little worn and sad looking after 12 years. 

This particular project moved from Picnic Blanket to Picnic Quilt-et the moment I had to decide whether I was going to sew the thing together with the rightsides facing in and flip it back out and topstitch the edges OR stitch it all together with the rightsides facing out and then BIND the edges. And as you know, I love to bind things with old polyester and the thought of the happy lemon yellow edge that I could add to this thing made my heart sing like those Cinderella birds had shown up on my ledge, so the Picnic Blanket became something much closer to a Quilt-et at that very moment. 

Today I'm doing a little fast and dirty quilting in the smaller blocks to make the thing stick together. 

I'll give you the heads up when the binding goes on. I'm feeling confident that the cartoon birds will show up for you then too.

Do you all have these Picnic Blanket thingies in your life already? Am I completely 15 minutes ago here? Totally 1993? Maybe this is like when I started telling everybody in 2006 that mini skirts really aren't tacky. 

More Love in the Mail & What I Did About it Before

I got this in the mail:

 Which, when I laid it all out--was actually this:

And this came in the mail because really nice Bloggish People Friends send them to me. Super Nice Judy sent me this box of already-sewn polyester quilt squares. 

And this is one of the loveliest things that happens to me as a result of being a person who talks on and on about old polyester. Once I got this from my BPF clevergirl and made this, and before that I got this and made (among other things) this, and then another time I got this, and I hadn't yet told you that I made this: 

When Craftytammie sent me this box of polyester love a few months back, it actually had this strip of pieced squares in it (which I've been staring at, waiting for the moment when I would be ready to turn it into a scarf). 

   

And then I came across this big scrap of soft ribbed, well, polyester (blend). And I used it for a comfy cozy back:

So what am I going to do with this new stack of loot? Well, it's begging to be a pillow cover, but I also might make some more of these out of some piece-ings. I don't know. The polyester sky is the limit.

And I also watched No Impact Man last night (it's on Watch Instantly right now if you're a netflix user) and today I listened to the GreenStitch podcast about greening up your lunch, so I am feeling particularly peppy about my Life's Work of Keeping Old Polyester Out of the Landfill.  

In fact, the answer to my I-always-leave-my-reusable-bags-in-the-car dilemna might very well be to make my reusable bags out of polyester. Hmm. Maybe that's what I'll do with this loot.

One for the Road

I'm going on a roadtrip, and I needed a treat. So I made this:

 A Toiletry, um, Roll. The powder-pink polyester spoke to me of Bags for Holding Things LIke Deodorant, so I whipped up this little number. And if you haven't yet made yourself on of these, then I say: Go for it. 

It's not a bit tricky.

Just gather up all the junk you like to haul around when you go roadtripping and eyeball how biguva bag you'll want.  I don't like putting every last thing in those little If I Were Travelling On An Airplane bottles, so I wanted a big bag to shove my normal sized stuff into. So my panel's pretty Bigish: like, maybe, 3 pieces of binder paper side-by-side.

Before you worry about turning anything into a bag, figure out what you hate to fish around for, and--find the middle and sew some elastic. Because you know, some things you just want to be able to grab--like tweezers, for instance, just in cast you get a, um, splinter and you need it in a fat hurry.

Stop looking at the edges: just look at the elastic. I chose Big Fat Wide Elastic because it makes me think of huge bras in a Jane Whatserhead sort of way. And this big fat wide elastic is the closest I'll ever get to the stuff.

Then I cut a couple of spots for zippers: one on the left that I just clipped in and then sewed the zipper in then I did this Not At All Fancy cover so nobody could see how weirdly and unfinished-ly I do zippers.

To make the other zipper, I just cut the whole piece off and then re-attached the panel back together with the zipper.

Then, like every last other thing you and I ever sew, I just took another panel of the same big size and sewed it together (facing in) and left a space and then flipped the whole thing inside out.

Before I did that topstitching, I stuck a big chunk of elastic in there so that I could roll the whole thing up and it would all hold together.

And I threw down a couple of lines of stitch to close up what would be two pockets

And topstitched my heart out around all the edges and then rolled it all up and flipped the big rubbery bandy elastic around the outside. 

 

Fancy fancy fancy.

Skirt to Match My Couch

Everybody needs one. 

Because you hate to CLASH with your furniture, don't you? I like to blend in chamelion-like so that I look, when I sit, as though I absolutely ought to be nowhere else. This is the reason, of course, that I have no clothing that matches the color of my sink, my washing machine, or any other sort of housework-related appliance. I prefer to have people think--oh. She just doesn't BELONG there. She BELONGS on the couch.

This--my first skirt attempt--is a vintage polyester number, made from the same big scrap, actually as the strap for this bag. It's all about the wonderful late-60's texture of the fabric--all those raised diamonds. Excellent.

 

And I know it's FLAMMABLE, but I really don't know why people continue to ask me if old polyester is comfortable. ACtually--it is. And it hangs a little heavy, which is nice for those of us of the Bumpily Backsided Persuasion. That gorgeously thin stuff that J Crew makes those tshirts out of that I absolutely love is NOT, as it turns out anything I want draping my Assets.

I used this Wendy book, and it was super fun because Wendy tends to say soul-soothing things like You can skip this step if you want to. I love that kind of sewing.

This skirt was so straight-forward and satisfying that I'm already on to my second (this one's made out of tablecloth and has a ZIPPER. Watch out.)

As some of you remember, my last attempt as clothes sewing was not what you'd call, um, Exemplary.

Dramatically Unsucessful Top Sewing Venture Recapped Here:

1. Getting All Excited
   
2. Measuring
3. Cutting Out the Pattern Pieces
4. The Fabric
   
5. Comitting with the Scissors
   
6. Darts & Yoke & Collar
   
7. Starting to Give Up
   
8. The Last Post, After Which I Start Sewing a Quilt Instead

I've definitely started in a much smarter spot. That whole Springtime Make a Complicated Blouse Debacle was really just a case of the Jump Into The Deep End of the Pool Syndrome. Sometimes I suffer from it.

First Ever Vintage Polyester Couch Cover

Here it is, Folks--the World's First Ever Polyester Couch Cover. 

 

(Our staff is verifying that claim, but for now, let's just go with it.)

I've been staring at my wonderful flowery brown couch that my buddy Bon gave me and that holds down the tv room faithfully, trying to figure out how to put some more spring into its, um, couch step. And it came to me in a rush: this couch is begging for a cover, and I can swing it. 

Plus, I have THIS in my stash (a GIFT from a super nice Blogger Friend who understands my love and reverence for the medium of polyester), and it's begging to live in my tv room where we do all our real hanging out and living and jumping and cuddling and watching and everything.

Plus, I happen to have a fat bunch of shockingly-coordinating red and white flower polyester that looks like its Polyester Sister. So there's that.

Plus--AS I continue to say to anyone in the world who will hear me: Old polyester is easy to sew! It's unbelievably forgiving! It's stretchy! And it comes in wonderfully weird colors and patterns! A shoe-in for the what-to-cover-the-couch-with variety of fabrics.

Action Shot of Newly Covered Couch:

 

I have to say that I was most surprised by how pretty straightforward it was to sew a couch covers--this was my first. Really--it was like making closes for Rosie--I sort of just draped the fabric and built the thing one panel at a time.  . . which made me think about making clothes (which I've been thinking about, as you know), and how all you really need to do is make a couch cover. For yourself. We are all just couches waiting to be covered. Which was why this was like sewing for Rosie, the Jetson's Robot Maid, and all I need to do is to figure out how to cover curved robot parts, and I'm home free as a seamstress. (Loved this post, which got me to thinking in this direction, btw). More on all that later (when I unveil the MATCHING POLYESTER SKIRT that coordinates perfectly with my couch cover. I know: amazing.)

In the meantime, consider all getting together to buy the URL www.oldpolyester.com for my next year's birthday, because I feel like I'm destined to own it.

 

The Good Writer Bag

 I've been working on these in between The Shirt and having all those Quilting Thoughts. 

I'm calling this bag The Good Writer because it's designed to fit just enough for a writer: a journal, maybe an extra book and a zippy pocket for the keys and wallet--and lots of slots for pens. No cavernous spaces for hauling around stuff other people have written--just enough to get your own someday-to-be-published words written down when the moment opens up and you can sit with a pen.

I've been cutting up and re-piecing vintage tea towels and am having such a hoot with the deconstruct/re-construct process so that one big linen tea towel gives me three panels. (And it wasn't until yesterday that I realized that this is actually sort of Quiltingish of me.)

So far London

Australia 

and Circus 

 

. . . are all tidied and ready to roll. I like the insides almost as much as the outsides

No extra pockets, just pen holsters

I'm working now on Scottish Thistle. It's a big tea towel & old polyesters pile still--but promising.

Polyester Insight #487

(More about sewing shirts together--woo hoo!--in a bit, but first this . . .)

I can't say enough. In fact, I decided last night that it may, in fact, be my personal goal to become a world-renown expert on the many uses of old polyester. A Polyester Afficianado, a Polyesterologist, a Polyesterist. Oprah will call. There will be interviews. That sort of thing. People will be rushing to thrift stores and ripping up their grandmother's pants and re-thinking the whole of idea of "old and stinky." That is my vision. [Note to self: purchase the URL http://www.oldpolyester.com before there's a big run on it.] (Made you click.)

I have two pieces of good news about polyester to share today.

#1 I have friends in the Polyester World. And last week, for the THIRD TIME, I had one of you nice BPF's send me a happy box of old polyester. For no reason--just because you know I would give it a good home. Here's my sweet loot from Craftytammie. 

 

The very first thing I'm going to do is take this wonderful strip of quilt work and smack some backing on it and wear it as a scarf. 

#2  I have discovered a life-changing use for polyester that I didn't see coming. And I think you might actually like to try it. Drumroll. POLYESTER BINDING TAPE! Okay, it's not really tape, but I mean using polyester for binding. It's magical. It's texture-y, it comes in funky colors and patterns, and it's easssssssy to work with. Oh, and it's indestructible. There's that.

I had a flash of smarts after my friend Melinda explained to me the way that the store-bought stuff is actually supposed to work (where you open it up and sew down the skinny edge and then fold the whole thing around the seam and then sew again . . . .) that I could just cut a strip of fabric and do this with polyester. And look:

It looks suuuuuuuper coooooool.

Here's how I did it:

Sew a 2 1/2" strip right-sides-facing to your open seam:

Flip it over and look at it from the other side of the seam:

 

Fold it in half:

 

Fold that down:

 

And sew it:

 
I don't even pin it--I just sort of arraaaaange it as I sew.

So there you have it: Polyester Binding Tape. 

You can cut it in plain old straight strips because it's already got all the corner-going stretch you need. And you really can just finish the meeting edges rough-style. That's what I opt for, because the only real downside of this stuff is that if you try to fold it over or double it up, it becomes a skoshe tumorish:

I just ripped this out and laid them flat on top of each other. A little rough, but then I'm pro-fray, so that's me.

(More on this bag later. . . my sewing machine Ro and I had a fight about it last night, so I'm not ready to talk about it yet.)

This One Has a Special Pocket

I made another one of these cash envelope system wallets because I wanted to try out the 4-slot design (instead of the big old 6-slot design).

 

 
 And also because I wanted a place to stash this (so I crammed it in that little denim pocket):

 

Because sometimes when I'm shuffling around with my cash and the people behind me in line are drilling eyeball holes through the side of my head with their can't-u-just-use-a-debit-card-like-the-rest-of-us stares, I flounder a little. Just internally. 

And so I am putting the note in the special pocket so that I can take it out and remind myself at any time I might need to.

Also, I wanted another shot at labeling my categories, and I'm even happier (if that's possible)with these:

 

And also since I figured out the little change in the design difference between the 6-slot wallet and the 4-slot wallet, I've updated the tutorial so that you can make either one. And I named them: The "Skipper" (he's the big guy) and the "Gilligan" (his little buddy).

Right: : Where was I in the early 70's? In front of the tv.

Thing For Me #7: Messenger (Finished!) & Thing For You #2: Cash Envelope System Wallet Tutorial

Hello, People. Yesterday marked the very superduper last day of Sew Sew Selfish Month. So it looks like I've got to start thinking about OTHERS now. Yeesh. But first, this:

I made it, unmade it, and then remade it. 

So now I'm dragging it around full of heavy books and tablets and list-making notepads. And it gives happiness to my insides.

I also made another one of these (the much-loved Cash Envelope System Wallets):

  
And I like it even better because that bottom pocket is functional now and not attacked by the buttonhole and the zipper is also on the outside. Two nifty upgrades.

And here's the part about you: I'm putting the final touches on the tutorial for this project, and I'm going to offering it up as my very first FOR SALE tutorial. (Oooooooohhhhhhhh. That's faaaaaaancy.) It'll be 3 bucks--not bad, not bad.

But before I start selling them, I want to offer them FOR FREE to a big handful of you who are regular friends over here at Wienerdog Tricks. So if you're interested, just send me an email today or tomorrow (gingerhendrix AT charter DOT net), and I will very happily email you one. (I like to share.) Then in a couple of days, the tutorials will be for sale--good plan, good plan. UPDATE: Hey there--I sent a big handful to some of you good WDTBPF's, so if you'd still like one, just click right over here.

I think you guys are great, my Wienerdog Tricks Bloggish People Friends. (WTBPF's).

Thing for Me #1: Envelope System Wallet

(This just in--for those of you interested in making one, the PDF pattern for this CASH ENVELOPE SYSTEM WALLET is available from Weinerdog Tricks right over here.)

A Sew Sew Selfish Month Update

 

We do the cash envelope system over here. Why you ask? Why not just keep accurate track of your spending utilizing the multiple technologies currently available as a result of the industrywide availability of banking's willingess to interface with personal budgeting softwares?

Yeah, it's because if I have .37 in my checking account, I just have a hankering to spend it. Or maybe spend it twice sometimes. Good one.

So, in an effort to remain solidly planted in Marital Mostly-Bliss, we do the cash envelope system.

But I need a cuter way to pull it off. So, I am thrilled to move from this:

 

 

Which has been an upgrade of sorts from this (which made me feel like a 7th grader for some reason):

 

 To this!:

 

 

It has a lot going for it, and a couple of kinks I'm going to work out before I write up a tutorial for how to do it (because it is SHOCKINGLY easy, people.)

GOING FOR IT: 

1. It's made out out of old polyester. As I've mentioned and mentioned and mentioned, I love old polyester. It is agreeable, funky, and available everywhere. This particular fabric came as a surprise gift from my friend Banana. 

2. It's marked with the names of categories that make me much happier than I would be if they said office-y sounding things like FOOD, GAS, ENTERTAINMENT, PERSONAL.

 

3. It has a handy coin purse thingy designed right into it. Haaaaaandy. This was a workaround for a wallet just like this one that I made for a friend for Christmas. I cut the fabric too short and needed a way to piece it together. "A zipper!" I said to myself. Handy. Handy. Handy mistake-turned-good-idea.

 

KINK

1. It's wonkier than some other polyesterprojects I've done.  I have a pretty high Wonk Threshold, but I think I'll need to come up with some How to Handle Stretch answer to this reality. 

2. The bottom category spot turns out to be too short because of the topstitching. Hmmm. Back to the drawing board. Right. 

This is my report. I was up early this morning finishing it up because I just am absolutely ready to carry it everywhere with me.

And I'm trying not to take it too personally that the just-under-2 yr old picked it up and blew her nose with it. Right.

Worth Mentioning.

Okay, so I already told you that I've put up a patternless baby dress tutorial,  but what I DIDN'T tell you is that it's the same basic process I use for making these polyester lovlies:

 

 

 

 

And I know that some of you are still struggling with the whole POLYESTER ON A BABY deal, but seriously--it's the best fabric ever: especially in this wearable design. (And by that I mean: they don't sweat because their armpits are free to breathe. Right.)

So these are just up here to tempt you. I could sew these if I were a monkey with a part-time job, three kids, four volunteer gigs, and a penchant for having people to coffee most days of the week. 

Oh. I am. And I do.

You can too . . .

 

Go Ahead and Ruin It, Ginger (Craft Debt Item #6: CHECK.)

(Craft Debt Update.)

The surprise, I mean. I'm going to ruin the surprise. Because I finished this bag last night for my friend in the NW and immediately stood up from my table (after hand sewing on that eye-rollingly cute vintage button) and said aloud to my Sewing Machine, Ro. That's easily the cutest bag I've ever made.

(Ro was annoyed. She wanted more credit. Whatever.)

And I know I'm ruining the surprise for my friend, but I also know that she'll get over it and understand that I am officially more of a Maker than I am even a Gift Giver because as soon as I make something, I just want to stand on my roof, watch for people to drive by, flag them down and then TALK ABOUT IT.

But my friend Dawn understands me. So that's positive. Plus, when she sees her name typed here, I know she's going to stand up right on top of her expensive office chair and hoop out loud to her writer friends and make a big show of it and feel generally happy before leaving for a light lunch at the company cafeteria. So that's positive too.

Two more action shots of the inside:

If this were Art, I'd call it Celebration of Brown Polyester. Excellent.

Craft Debt: Item #3. CHECK.

Craft Debt UPDATE: The baby purse.

It has a happy yellow middle.

I skipped #2. I won't lie. Try sewing for an amazing artist. Go ahead. You try. On to the good news.

I pulled off the baby purse for the Lady Baby who--okay, let's be realistic--doesn't really KNOW I promised her, but still. She needed it quickly.

And now for the action shots:

I'm starting to mess with both the messenger bag and the star-shaped footstool cover. Light candles and put out makeup in front of the Craft Gods, please. Because both projects are challenging my brain parts.

A really really good, really really (even more) inevitable idea.

So, luckily, I have the sort of friends who know that I would toast and butter WORDS and eat them for breakfast if I could. Having just come off keeping myself from adding my bedsheet-stamped commentary to these perfectly hysterical and uber-retro polyester baby dresses, my friend said this to me: Name Them.

It wasn't a dare, but it might as well have been. And NOW, while I thought that it was impossible to enjoy this more, I have added the hilarious good time of naming these only-happen-once little thrift store fabric dresses. 

Here's a taste:

"Daisy Duke Goes to a Tent Meeting"

'Velma Watches the Prom Via Satellite"

"Cindy Brady Hears the Ice Cream Truck, Swipes $2 from Alice's Purse, and Heads for the Street"

If you grew up watching the reruns of 60s shows for the entirety of your 70s childhood like I did, you may enjoy a quick romp over here to the photo gallery of all 12 dresses  I'mtaking to market tomorrow.

How is it possible that this is just getting MORE fun? Yeesh.

(Here's how I'll make it more fun for you: post a comment here with a list of all 12 references and I'll make one of these polyester numbers for the first person to get them all right! How fun is that? Hint: most but not all refs are 70s tv. About your prize-ola: there no guarantees on the colors I can promise--I work from scraps, you know--but I'm happy to make it to your size pref.)

UPDATE: Okay, based on the complete and total **Crickets** on my giveaway offer, I am going to breathe through my self-esteem nose and assume that this is not because all 40,000 of you (okay, sometimes I exaggerate) think these dresses are deeply ugly, but that--yet again, if you ask my students--I have posed an IMPOSSIBLE QUIZ. I won't lie: this isn't the first time this has happened to me. So how about this--just leave a comment about your favorite 70s tv show and I'll draw for a winner. That sounds less Wikipedia-intensive and more fun. Better.

My fave so far.

And here's the tag I made (thanks for asking). I stamped them with an old secretary's set of stamps (at least, that's what they look like to me--the whole alphabet, plus some ready-mades that say DUPLICATE and AIR MAIL and such) on a thrifted bed sheet and the heat-set in the dryer. 

And, just so you don't feel bad for me and try to tell me delicately, I'm really INTO how they fray. So that's on purpose. Don't feel bad. I'm just pro-fray in general. . . .though I did spend copious amounts of time finishing the insides of these dresses--all without a serger. Not an impossible task, as it turned out, just time-consuming.

I'm heading out Saturday. Any Sage Craft Fair Sellers out there with some advice for my friend and me as we head out to sell? 

One Something A Day: Weeks 4 & 5

SCADS of Polyester baby dresses! Groovy. Here are a handful. I've pulled off at least 10 and I've got 2 more cut. Am shooting to take these to a local craft fair on Saturday. They've even got homemade TAGS in them. Too much. I just love 'em.

 

And here are a couple of close ups . . .

 

 

  

 

And here's my Miracle Thrift Shopping Story du Jour: So I go to my favorite thrift shop and dig around the fabric corner because I'm on a total mission for vintage buttons. I find a few, pretty average. Barely vintage. I'm getting ready to settle for them when I see the manager and shoot out a Paula, you don't happen to have some big jar of buttons back there do ya? . . . I don't think so, she says. But then--you know what's going to happen next if, like me, you've accepted the Thrifting Gods into your heart--she walks out with the darlingest tall skinny jar of the darlingest vintage buttons. And I mean vintage: no weird frog buttons or rainbows or anything, the real old ones: wonderful. 

So now I have another weird fabric-related obsession for thrifting: Buttons. Great. Just great.

It was inevitable: the polyester baby dress.

How did I not see this coming?

I mean I love polyester. And so there I was, wildly sewing up a little sundress-ish doo dad of a baby dress for the Baby-o and it was like the yellow polyester just called out to me. G - i - n - g - e - r  . . . . I looked up (in the middle of a very important sentence my husband was putting together for my benefit)  and pulled it out of the stack. Resolutely.  I will be making this next.

And I will be sewing 80 or 90 more of these, I think. I'm off to the sewing store to talk to a bunch of non-sewing quilters about how to use my machine to make the insides of these look finished. Would love not to have to go buy a serger--but please DO chime in here if you know anything about finishing seams. In my tote bag/apron-making world, I haven't messed much with it yet. I'd love some help! (And I won't lie: I'm completely scared to death of the quilt ladies at the store, so I don't know how much I'll remember of what they actually say to me.)