wienerdog tricks.

How I Do That

 

I'm getting a lot of great questions about the words that show up everywhere on the stuff that I make and remake, so I thought I'd give you a little heads up about how those words are showing up there.

It's because of this kooky secretary's stamp set that I picked up at a garage sale years ago. It came with a numbered set that I since can't find and there was a few little tiny stamps that said 1950, 1951, 1952, and 1953.

 I just spell a word backwards and then set it in this little base with some Official Typesetting Tweezers

 

And then I stamp it a with this. 

   

I do this a bunch of times (partly because it takes me a bunch of times to get a good one and also because I sometimes go back scavenging for words for other projects):

Then I cut it out

 

I like to do it all in this order and then sew it so that it will fray because I am Pro-Fray. Other people are not--and those Anti-Fray people could just stamp it with more space around it, do some ironing work that would probably require a combo advanced degree in Astro Physics and Home Ec and then sew it down fraylessly. 

But I'm all into the effect:

So, tips in summary:

1. Use permanent ink, then do a little heat setting. I didn't take pics of this part because it would be me running down to the dryer and throwing my big sheet o' stamps in there for 10 minutes or so on high. And because I don't have a WDT Staff Photographer, I didn't get a shot of this. 

2. Stamp onto nice soft cotton. I actually am no pro stamper, but I do mine on soft old bedsheets and it seems to allow the desired effect (and the ink doesn't squish into the cracks, so you can read the word.)

3. Plan on stamping your word on a seperate piece of fabric a bunch of times so that it's okay if you screw up on the stamping. As it turns out, you've got to hold your mouth just right, flex some special tendons in the top of your fingers, press down hard and sort of rooooooolllll through the stamp. And this fancy method takes a bit to muster and then master. So let yourself screw up on some old bed sheets and you'll have a better time than you would if you sewed up a pretty little something and then gave yourself one shot on a finished piece. You might cry if you did it that way. And by You, I, of course, mean Me.

There you have it. Stamp on, Wiener Dog Tricks Bloggish People Friends (my dear old WDT BPF's). More quetsions? Just shoot and I'll do my absolute best to explain my strange workaround to your legitimate crafting question.

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 #7: Messenger (Mid-Way)

This is a Sew Sew Selfish Month update.

I made this:

 

(Think of this next shot as on the setting that Barbara Streisand used to have photos taken of herself during her Star Is Born years):

 
Something's not right. And I think it's the edges that are bothering me. And the straps, maybe. So I took it apart:

This isn't my first messenger bag. I made this one for the Man Spouse for Christmas:

 

(The innards):

And this one at Christmastime for a dear friend:

 

(The innards):

I think I want the edges on the one I'm making right now to look more finished. So I'm going to try some sort of piping or something when I put it back together. And I'm going to make it skinnier so that it's DAINTIER.  Might even cut the whole bag down so it's just a little smaller. Hmmm. Haven't solved the straps problem yet, but might go back to what I did here with an old seatbelt (a trip to the junk yard's not such a bad idea, really.)

Sometimes Making involves Un-Making. And if you're not sure what I mean (or, really, even if you are), go over here and see this. You'll nod. You'll gasp. You'll shake your head. And then you'll think deep thoughts about Making including Un-Making that you never thought before. 

And of course you'll be the first to hear when I stop all this Un-Making and put the messenger bag back together.

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.

Best/Easiest/Longest-Promised Birthday Gift Ever.

(I know I'm sewing for myself right now, but I made this when it was still December and have been holding on to show you until I actually GAVE it to my friend. Which wasn't easy.)

I have been threatening/promising this gift for years. My dear friend Bonnie has a deep, deep family truth posted on her fridge, and I have said forever that I would sew it on a pillow. (Because the wrong words are ALWAYS sewed on pillows--things like DELICIOUS HARMONY and PAIN-FREE OBEDIENCE and PERFECTION UNLIMITED and stuff like that.) So here's hers:

"Don't sweat the petty things.

Don't pet the sweaty things."

Words to live by from George Carlin. Excellent. (And particularly helpful as life guidance when you have 3 boys like she does). So here's the final product. 

The back (and yes--I couldn't help myself. I sewed yello ric-rac into the seam. If you haven't done this, try it. It will make you ric-rac happy.)

I won't lie. I'm going to make one for myself that says, "Touch your own and not your brother's." 

Right When I Shouda Been Sewing Christmas Gifts

I had a wedding to go to. And when I go to a wedding, I haul along HIS & HERS APRONS. I've made them before, but they keep getting cuter. Not lying. Wish I could quit all my jobs and open up a HIS & HERS APRONS shop. (Hey--the SOCK STORE is still in business, so why wouldn't I have a shot?)

Anyway, anybody marrying gets pyrex with lids and HIS & HERS APRONS. That's how I roll. No, I don't care what you registered for. Because I don't feel like buying you one fork. Or half a shower curtain. You get pyrex with lids (because EVERYBODY needs pyrex with lids). And you get these:

 

Normally I would have hidden a little of that fruit print inside of the HIS apron, but I didn't think this particular groom could swing any amount of, um, fruit--so I used the dark plaid to make the HERS ties two-sided. Here's the best part of these:

 

Oh, and I finished the christmas garland for myself. And it's making me incredibly Christmas Happy.

 

Just spent two hours alone in a coffee shop and--when I could have been writing the country's next great contemporary american poem by a western woman with children and a convoluted protestant family background--instead, I studied my christmas list. I wrote it. I rewrote it. I made arrows. I crossed things out. I added them back. I crossed them out again. I made a timeline. And an ordered projects list. And a--very short--To Buy list. And then I cross referenced it with my calendar.

I didn't do this because I am a stellar gift giver. I did this because I have no Making Self-Control naturally, and without extreme measures of concentration, self-fortification, goal-setting and values reassertion, I will tackle too many things for too many people. 

And, like I already said, I don't want to. Because for Christmas this year, I'm working hard to give the gift of Mom With Her Personality Intact.  And I'm finding it quite tricky. 

Best of luck to you as you work to hold on to yours.

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.

NOW It's Finished.

"Alice never told Carol that the secret to the bubbly cheese on top was 350 for 45 minutes. (It was that easy.)"

Finally: the perfect declaration of that unspoken tension between Alice (Housekeeper Technician to the Brady Family) and Carol (wife of Mike Brady). I mean--it was always there, wasn't it? That I-Was-Here-First vibe Alice was always hiding behind that mask of a grin. . . . I always sensed it. We thought Alice was leaving with Sam to go bowling. Please. They were throwing them back at some seedy Thousand Oaks bar. Alice, three whiskeys in, "She doesn't even know how to melt cheeeeeeeese." (slurred.)

And now the truth is declared on my this-week Purse that will be my next-week Sewing Bag.

Now it's finished.

Another Tote.

Please don't get tired of seeing these, because I think I have another 30 or 80 in me. I'm in love with the texture of old old polyester--the rough stuff. So sturdy. So oddly unattractive until you help it make friends with something spunkier and more awake. 

Here's the new one:

Here's its happy insides:

And yes that's a SNAP, which I handily attached with my brand new thrift store-find-of-the-week snap setter. I feel like the handiest person I know.

I have, of course, already given this away because I couldn't help myself. 

I am currently stretching my brain to figure out how to make these lined totes without having to sew the two pieces separately. If anybody has any real smart thoughts about this, DO share them. 

Totes.

Yesterday I was all about totes. I had the whole day off (well, let's not kid here: I had a sick 7 year old home and a 1 yr old playing with fabric scraps at my feet while I sewed), but still: I COULD SEW! There are so many KINDS of free time, as you know.

So I sewed totes.

Here's the first one, which I have already claimed as a purse, since I am tired of carrying around my camo diaper bag. 

I took my favorite Trader Joe's bag (you know--the cream colored cloth ones) and made a pattern. It was SO EASY. You've probably already done this. Those cloth bags are a super easy pattern to work with because they're just two side panels that connect to a long single piece of fabric. Easy Peasy. (And if this doesn't seem easy, then TELL me and I'll totally post about how to do it.)

The very best thing about this bag is that it's made of that SUPER ROUGH POLYESTER that women wore pants out of in 1973. So really all that can happen to it is that it might melt if I accidentally stand too close to the oven or trip at a bonfire.

The second best thing about this bag is that it's lined. Here's the inside:

But this is the best part: my very own sarcastic commentary sewn right onto my purse. Just right for the moment when somebody annoys me. My purse already says REALLY? Excellent. I'm ready to face the world.

I also made this MEGA TOTE by taking a pattern from this book and exposing it to that same radioactivity that happened on Gillian's Island that made the vegetables huge. And, like the veggies, I'd like to report that the bag turned into something monstrous and strange. Cute though. Who doesn't want a monster beach tote with monkeys designed right into Rich Lady upholstery fabric? C'mon.

The lining is a diamond-patterned SUPER ROUGH POLYESTER (you see I can't get enough of the stuff).

It has a sassy little big outside pocket that appears to have no function beyond style at its current size. (In the smaller version, you're supposed to shove your newspaper in it, I think.) And two smaller ones that actually could help.

So: TOTES! Has everybody already made these and I'm just behind? Probabbbbbbbbllleeeeeeeeee.

I'm going to make another TJ Tote next. I still have more polyester . . .

"Hot Food Hot Food"

Okay, so this apron is sort of vintage/mod. I'm loving this print that I found four kind of wide strips of while I was thrifting--and the main panel is orange linen (because who doesn't love orange linen--why didn't I ever wear an ORANGE LINEN easter dress? I think I would have been very happy as a child if this had happened to me. Alas, I was Holly Hobbyed-out.) The nifty part of this apron is the tomato red ric rac that runs across the bottom panel. Every last bit of this thing was treasure hunted at a thrift store. Yeehaw. This is how I roll. (Don't worry. I did Dorky Lady Fake Quotes when I said that.)

The bottom left panel says "HOT FOOD HOT FOOD. Because this is what I yell from the dinner table when I'm sitting there alone and I've already said "Dinner Time!" in a really Nice Mommy Voice about three times. When my kids are still staring at the ceiling and my husband has decided that changing all the lightbulbs in the house seems like a good idea and the lovely fill in the blank with whatever lovely thing I've made for dinner is getting cold, this is what I yell. 

This apron also opens the doors of my Etsy store, which is lovely news for me because I've been dying to get the thing going.

 

Here's another thrilling piece of dittily info: I put this apron together for the make-one-out-of-what-you-ve got apron making challenge over at Tie One On which is a place that I click over and over and again all the time to see when the next apron challenge is coming. Plus I want to be best friends with Amy Karol. But don't tell her. Akward.

Also, yes, I know that my camera is shooting the same quality photos that the box camera I made in 5th grade did when I took that snappy B & W photo of the school water fountain. I can't talk about it. Maybe I'll win the lottery. Yeesh.

Everyone should have an apron. Did I say that already?

"All My Lovin Comes From Jersey"

This full-length apron used to be a curtain. I didn't even take the old curtain stitching out of it because I didn't want to deal with the possibility of some annoying fade line. And the stitching was so nice and neat, done by such a good sew-er. (Sorry, I just can't write the word "seamstress" and, um, "sewer" seems all wrong.)

So I made the olive green linen into some mother-long pieces of bias and double top-stiched them for the mongo straps (so that they wrap around the back and tie in the front) and then stared and stared at the thing to figure out what to do to finish it. No matter what I did, it looked like, well, a curtain-turned-into-an-apron.

And then I just picked up my rotary cutter one day and made the curve at the bottom and added the black bias tape and then it became an actual APRON. It happened. 

It says "All my lovin comes from" and then JERSEY on the pocket because it's for my friend Amy and she's married to a New Jersey poet who's been transplanted to CA. It's for her bday and she's going to really like it. I can just tell.

(Here's the detail . . . which is possible because I have a life-changingly cool secretary's stamp set from 1950 that gives me the POWER to say whatever the heck I want to. )

I am all powerful.

His & Hers Aprons

So I went to the place where the bride-and-groom-to-be registered and they wanted aprons. Well, they're so not getting the crappy aprons they registered for. I mean, well, maybe they are--but I'm bringing THESE today! (All fabric either flat-out given to me by a relative who was storing it for thirty years in her barn-sized, well, storage barn or found at my favorite thrift shop. Tho, these babies also have some flea market finds--that hunting scene fabric used to be pillow covers and curtains, I think.)

It's my first shot at a his and hers solution to my addicted apron-giving. Score!

Here's the detail . . .

Gotta run or I'll miss the shower.