A handful of years ago, back when I lived in Washington, I picked up a circle skirt at a favourite second-hand store. Even though it was both adorable and affordable, for some reason I hardly ever wore it. But why? When I finally realized what it was—the waistband was too narrow and it sat at an unflattering place on my hips—I knew I had to do something. The discovery of some sturdy, wide, black elastic that looked like it would make an excellent waistband was the only impetus I needed to make my skirt wearable again.

The materials I used for this project (along with the skirt) were a seam ripper, wide black elastic about 6 inches longer than the circumference of the skirt waistband, black thread, red thread, tailor’s chalk, three hook-and-eye closures, and a sewing machine—although you could easily do all the sewing by hand.

I began by using the seam ripper to remove the original waistband from the skirt. Then, I marked a line 1 cm from the edge of the elastic with the tailor’s chalk. I used this to evenly align the raw edge of the skirt waist to the elastic. Now, originally, I thought I would pin the skirt to the elastic, but after my many attempts at this failed miserably and numerous four-letter words were dropped (I wasn’t kidding when I said the elastic was sturdy!) I decided that basting might be a better idea.

The skirt has a side zipper that I wanted to keep, so I had to make the elastic overlap towards the back of the skirt at the zipper. To baste the elastic to the skirt, I aligned the end of the elastic with the side of the zipper on the back of the skirt and the raw edge of the skirt waist to the line I hand drawn along the edge of the elastic with chalk. Then, using the red thread and my sewing machine, I basted the elastic to the skirt leaving a small space between the basting and the edge of the elastic. This left a few inches of elastic extending towards the back—this is a good thing. After trying the skirt on and finding the placement of the new waistband satisfactory, I stitched right along the edge of the elastic using the black thread, and removed the basting with the seam ripper.

Now, back to that overlapping bit of elastic. I folded it in half and stitched by hand along the raw edge. The next step was figuring out where I wanted the “eye” parts of of the hook-and-eye closure and sewing them to the main part of the waistband, on the back of the skirt. Then, I took the “hooks” and stitched them to the elastic loop I had just made, only going through the back so the stitching wouldn’t show on the front. After that, I hand-stitched the sides of the elastic loop together, and it was finished.

Note: This wasn’t written strictly as a tutorial, but rather an explanation of what I did in this specific situation. I highly encourage you to experiment with your own clothing alterations and find a method that works for you.

text and photography by Kat Brightwell

Fact: sewing patterns can be intimidating. Really intimidating. Intimidating to the point that I hardly ever sew anymore because I’m under the impression that anything I would want to make from scratch and then wear would be a hair-pullingly complex and painful process.

To make a long story short, I was very, very wrong.

Erin Arsenault’s Stay-Stitched: Sewing without a pattern and designing as you go is possibly the most approachable sewing how-to book I’ve ever read. It’s also exactly what it says on the box—at no point is a pattern ever used, and since garment pieces are based on your own measurements, everything is designed to fit your specific shape. Arsenault describes it as a “workbook,” and she isn’t kidding. There are spaces for you to fill in with your measurements, and plenty of gridded blank pages for your notes, sketches, and ideas. The book contains instructions for eleven projects, including a simple tote bag, a cute kimono, and wide-leg sailor pants. It also has a list of basic sewing supplies, stitches, and instructions on how to do things such as make your own bias tape, add in pockets, and make facings for neck and arm holes.

Since making a tote bag for the purpose of this review seemed like cheating, I chose to make the “Egyptian Tunic,” a simple A-line skirt with braces. After picking out some cutely creepy Norman Rockwell baby-face print cotton, I set to work on my skirt. It was remarkably easy—all you do is use your measurements to find the waistband width and strap length, and the length and flare of the skirt are up to you. I ended up making my skirt shorter and more fitted at the waist than the book suggested, which was not a problem at all, simply a matter of pinning and re-stitching one of the side seams—and I love the way it turned out.

And that’s the beauty of Stay-Stitched—everything is customizable. All you have to do is re-draw your lines if you don’t like the way something fits or looks. Even if the projects in the book aren’t to your liking, I’m sure you could apply the skills learned in these pages to other clothes-making endeavours. A novice stitcher could learn a lot by starting at the beginning and working their way through. (Just a little note on the projects—the book is very skirt- and dress-heavy, but I’m sure some crafty gentlemen and those who don’t like skirts would appreciate the sailor pants and viking tunic.) I can also see this book being a godsend for anybody who doesn’t fit into standard pattern sizes.

I would highly recommend Stay-Stitched to people who want to learn to make their own clothes but don’t know where to start, or to jaded semi-experienced seamstresses like myself, who just need their faith in their abilities renewed.

Stay-Stitched: Sewing without a pattern and designing as you go, self-published by Erin Arsenault, 2009
reviewed by Kat Brightwell

What I’ve learned in dating, I can apply to vintage purses. Even though it’s beautiful and in tact on the outside, watch out for rotting on the inside. When I picked up this wicker purse at a local Goodwill, it was love at first sight… until I turned the latch and saw the condition of the inner lining. After battling with my gag reflex, I swallowed my hesitations and made the purchase (for $3.49 a deteriorated lining was not a deal breaker). Luckily, I discovered that replacing a purse lining was much easier — not to mention more affordable — than couples counselling.

Step One: Resist hacking away at the lining the second you open the purse with scissors in hand. This step I almost skipped completely, and am sure I would have regretted that decision later in the process. By taking a second to examine the bag’s interior, I was able to see that the lining was attached to the wicker with multiple tacks. With further inspection, I saw that these tacks could all be easily removed, allowing the lining to be removed exactly as is, and for the tacks to be salvaged. Since my scrupulous nature has now been revealed, there is no more need to hide it.

Step Two: Once the lining was removed, I proceeded to ‘break it down’ (MC Hammer, eat your heart out). Separate the seams of the lining so that you have three sections of fabric, or however many parts your lining breaks down into. Pin these to your new fabric and cut around them, leaving an inch or two so you have some room to sew them together.

Step Three:Pin the new fabric together, right sides in. This part of the sewing process always seems like a brain teaser to me. But since it’s a lining, things are a little easier. You won’t be seeing the outside seams, so you want the inside to be the good sides of the fabric and free of waste.

Step Four: Once you’ve sewn all the seams, you can trim them down so there is less bulk. Now you’re ready to fasten the lining to the purse. I lucked out, and was able to use the thumbtacks that had originally been holding the lining in place. Depending on the bag though, you may be forced into some ‘creative thinking’. Might I suggest having a glue gun or needle and thread at hand?

After some last minute tucking and folding more suited to a drag show than my living room, I emerged successful; lining in purse, purse in hand. And now that I know the ease at which I can make a purse’s insides match the beauty of its outer shell, I will never again be discouraged by a pretty saddle bag with a sad interior — though I will proceed with caution at the sight of a pretty boy in saddle shoes.

- Casie Brown

Peter Pan collars are too charming. Maybe it’s because they remind me of my little girl clothes of the past, or even because they are named after a boy who can fly and is friends with fairies. Regardless, I have never been able to walk away with my credit card in tact once I spot one. With tuition and rent bills filling my mailbox, however, I have learned to put down the hanger, and leave the store Peter-Pan-less. My indulgent behaviour in check, I came up with a more practical approach to achieving this darling look. Borrowing tips and tricks from various do-it-yourself guides (and after a few interrogations of my fashion design friends), I came up with my own recipe for adding a little Peter to any garment. Professionals please keep in mind that this is a girl with little garment-making know-how, describing to like-minded folk, the simplest way (in her eyes) to achieve a DIY collar.

Materials: Fabric for collar, interfacing, thread, paper, pencil, fabric scissors, an iron

Step 1: Trace the Neckline of the garment that you wish to Peter-ize. For this I used just a regular blank piece of paper and pencil. I stuck the paper inside the dress and aligned it with the shoulder seams, then I traced away. This will give you the neckline on the front of the dress. Repeat with the back of the dress so that you have the shape of both the front and back. Once you have both front and back necklines, cut and paste them together so that you have an oval-like shape. You now have a starting place!

Step 2: Using your imaginary neckline for size, do a rough sketch of what you want the collar to look like, on another blank sheet of paper. For this part I drew a few different variations, cut each out, and tried them on the dress to see which size I liked best. There is nothing worse then getting to the end stretch and realizing you don’t like the size. Once you have a shape you like, in the words of Joey Gladstone, “Cut it out!”

Step 3: Now is the exciting part, or if you’re like me, the nerve-wracking part. Pin your pattern to the fabric and cut! Okay. Before you do this, take a deep breath and remember one crucial thing: leave a seam allowance (this means leave about an inch or inch and a half of fabric around both the outside and inside of your pattern, so you have a little something to work with). Before removing the paper pattern though, I like to just dot around the pattern itself onto the actual fabric, so that I have a perfect guideline of where I need to be sewing. Repeat this step on both your fabric that you chose for your collar, and the interfacing.

Step 4: So you should have two collar-like pieces in front of you. Pin these two pieces together, with the backside of each fabric facing outwards. This should be fairly simple to figure out with the fabric you chose, but might be a little tricky for the interfacing. The outward side of the interfacing should be a bit shiny. This shine is the glue that will fuse the two fabrics together and give you a stiff collar.

Step 5: Dust off your sewing machine, and sew ONLY the outside edge of your collar. After this is complete, you can trim down the outside seam allowance (be careful!) and then flip the fabric so that it is right side out. Press, press, press and let that glue do it’s job!

Step 6: Your collar should now look a little more like you had imagined. The final step is a tricky one, and I opted for a hand stitch after wrestling with my sewing machine. The outside of the collar should be finished, and you are left with just the inside oval, and the inch of seam allowance that you left of this edge. Because the neckline is curved, you’ll have a hard time trying to sew the collar to the garment as is. What you need to do is cut little slits (or tabs as I will call them) about a half inch apart into the seam allowance, so that your collar can curve with the neck.

Step 7: To make this next step easier, I pressed all of the little tabs that I had cut into the seam allowance to the underside of the collar. Now, it should be like you can just hook the collar on top of the neck of your garment. Pin the little tabs in place, on the inside of the garment, so that the outside part of the collar sits flat. Once pinned, sew along the inside of the garment, on top of your little tabs. I’m not sure this is the most aesthetically pleasing way to affix the collar, but it did the job for me (and I figured no one would be seeing the inside of the garment anyway). After it is secured, you can trim the tabs so they look a bit more presentable (on the rare occasion they do see the light of day).

Step 8: You can never press enough! Laying the garment flat, press the front and back of the collar, so that it sits nicely in place. Trim a few threads here and there, and you’ve got a collar that will bring Captain Hook out on the prowl.

- Casie Brown