Eccentric – Page 35 – Deborah Makarios

December 22, 2017

Introducing Upskilly & Stuff

Imagine the splendid freedom of being able to make your clothes be whatever you wanted. It’s something I’ve wanted to be able to do for ages. But while I’ve made a few ill-fated sorties in that direction, I never really got anywhere, and only recently did I realize why that was.

The problem, I found, is that most books on sewing (of which I have several) are more or less an archive of techniques. Undeniably useful, but one cannot wear techniques. I needed something which would take me step by step from simple to complex – a road map, if you like.

The library books I browsed which were aimed at beginners sometimes aimed to do just that, but there was still a problem. To put it frankly, I wouldn’t wear anything in those books even if it did come out right.

This isn’t really their fault. I’ve aged out of their target audience, and, more to the point, I’ve never really worn what’s “in”. I don’t want to be mutton dressed up as lamb. I’d rather be hogget dressed up as… er, eccentric.

But most of the clothes I’ve seen in learn-to-sew books seem to mimic as closely as possible what you can get in the shops (sometimes “customized” with random bits sewn on or fraying or other laundry-problematic effects).

Of course, I can’t expect a book to be written for me, tailored to my own wardrobe wishes (as wonderful as that would be). So instead, I sat down and wrote a list of all the things I’d need to learn to do in order to make the kind of garment I want to wear. Seams and sleeves and set-in pockets and what have you.

And then I did a bit of research and figured out what simpler garments use those skills, adding another skill here and another one there.
The result: a list of ten projects to see me through a year from “sew a hem” to “sew a dress.”

Now, you may not be interested in sewing a dress, but the beauty of the idea is that you can identify your own target garment and make your own skill list. Each month, I’ll announce what I’m planning on making and the skills I expect to learn from it. If that aligns with your skill plan, feel free to join in, or follow along with a different project that works toward your target.

At the end of each month, I’ll report back on what I did, how it went, and what I learned. And I’d love to hear from you, whether in a comment or in a link to your own posts.

Don’t let a paucity of resources stand in your way. Not having the largest budget in the world myself, I’m mostly going to be using what I’ve already got: odd bits of fabric, old clothes, recycled or thrifted sheets, and my trusty cast-iron hand-crank sewing machine (which I must remember to oil before I start).

As far as patterns go, I’m going to be using some I already have, finding some which are free online, and possibly even creating some myself, with the help of an old copy of Pattern Drafting for Dressmaking by Pamela C. Stringer. I may or may not end up buying any – we’ll see how it goes.

Now, some of you are probably wondering what’s with the title of this post (and, indeed this series). The more obvious names were already in use, so I decided I’d go for something rather more eccentric, playing off the culinary phrase “skilly and duff” – skilly being a savoury gruel and duff being a dumpling to boil in it, and the whole being the sort of thing a swashbuckling seafarer would eat.

Awilda — A pirate wears what she chooses! Yarr…

Moving our skills up the ladder is the means to our end (I loathe the word “upskilling, but somehow “upskilly” is fun), and “stuff” is an old word for fabric used for making clothing. So there you have it: Upskilly & Stuff (US&S for short).

So, starting at the very beginning (a very good place to start, I am reliably informed), in January I will be making a kerchief or bandanna.
Skills: measure, cut, and hem. Bring on the hypotenuse.

December 20, 2017

Choose Your Motto

The Linux philosophy is ‘Laugh in the face of danger’.

Oops. Wrong one. ‘Do it yourself’. Yes, that’s it.
Linus Torvalds

December 8, 2017

Taking the Stairs

I’ve always liked the idea of living in a house with stairs. Not houses which require stairs to get into them – I’ve lived in plenty of those – but houses with more than one storey.

Wooden stairs are ideal – none of those disturbing steel-and-glass things that show you the yawning gulf beneath your feet (and presumably allow anyone beneath to look up your skirt).

So I was delighted when we managed to buy Narrowhaven, a house which is equipped with a proper indoor stair. The stairs are of an aesthetically pleasing shiny dark wood, and are a very important part of the function of the building. Which is to say, half of the house’s six rooms are at the bottom, and half at the top, and there’s nine feet to climb between them.

Of course, nine feet is not excessive. Particularly not when you consider the staircase that goes up the side of Mt Niesen in Switzerland, which measures one and two thirds kilometres just in the verticals. Admittedly, it’s an outdoor stair, but still, 11,674 steps is a lot. I should be thankful that I have only fifteen.

Especially considering that said fifteen steps lie between the kitchen (i.e. the Source of All Tea) and the bathroom (I trust I do not need to draw you a picture).

The call of nature draws you up, and the call of a cuppa, or your book, or pottering out to the letterbox for some fresh air calls you down again.

But I am thankful for my fifteen steps, because they are one of the chief sources of exercise in my life. It doesn’t matter what the weather’s like, or how energetic I’m feeling, up and down those stairs I must go.

I took a survey across three recent days (including one when I was out for the evening) and found that on average, I go up and down the stairs ten times a day. Or rather, down and then up, considering that I start my day in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

But how often do we even consider the sterling contribution of the humble staircase? “What is a staircase, but a corridor improved by elevation?” as Catherine Gilbert Murdock wrote in Princess Ben (very readable book that, by the way).

How many other parts of your house silently and without the slightest charge provide you exercise without you even needing to think about it? No sooner had I written this than I popped upstairs again and was on the third-to-last stair down before I’d even noticed what I was doing.

While there are doubtless those for whom stairs are Not What The Doctor Ordered (e.g. those with joint problems or chronic giddiness), they should have our sympathy, and all the more so if they have stairs anyway. For when you’re just an ordinary homebody like myself, there’s nothing like a flight of stairs to keep you moving.

Note: whoever named a case of stairs a “flight” should be sat down and given a talking-to. If there is one thing you should not attempt to do when taking the stairs, it is taking flight. Happily, our stairs come with walls both sides and a handrail, so flight options are limited.

It’s not just the practicality, either, it’s the aesthetics. A sweep of well-swept richly glowing wooden stairs is a much more pleasant thing to look upon than An Exercise Thing for Stepping – wouldn’t you agree? And unlike the Exercise Thing, it slides all that exercise almost unnoticeably into your day.

So here’s to the stairs, the humbly serving unappreciated stairs. Give them a sweep or a vacuum and show your stairs a bit of love today.