Piping Gone Wrong

As soon as I laid eyes on this cotton duck fabric from IKEA,  I was imbued with a superhero's confidence.  "This fabric has drawings of planks of wood on it," I said to myself.  "With this fabric, I can do anything clever and complicated, and the power of righteous design will send me aloft to new heights of cushion sewing achievement!"

Nevermind that I had only once before attempted a cushion with piping, and on a much smaller, ahem, less expensive scale. We have an uncommonly shaped table nook in our kitchen and once we found a solution to finding a table that fit (we had it made), I began to fantasize about the praise and appreciation I would get from my wife when I saved us no less that $800 on custom made cushions.  I was very sure she would stroke the perfectly streamlined finished product over breakfast day after day and gaze at me lovingly over breakfast, if not just literally throw dollars at me as I sat in my pajamas in the dawny light of morning.

But then my goddamned cushion is all wrinkly and twisty!  What?!  What?! Arggggghhhh!


Exhibit A: Nook and first cushion, from afar:

 

Exhibit B: the incriminating view of the grand wobble:

How much does that suck?!

I swear this cover fits this cushion.  When I first put it on, it was straight, and taught and amazing.  Okay, not like, amaaaazing, but really really good.  Look, it seems like it fits, generally:

And then after very few sittings, the piping got all googly and the fabric was all loose and all sort of goblins of physics broke free under our asses.  So frustrating.

I wonder if it needs a lining.  Maybe the fabric is catching and pulling onto the very rubbery upholstery foam?  When you sit on it, it wants to curve up ever so slightly at the end and then stay that way.  YES!  As if it is caught in the evil grip of the faulty foam and just wants a nice slippery square covering between it and the foam!  Yes.  I think that's what it is.  

What else could it be?  Please, gods of sewing, answer me.

So then I sewed this coaster from boiled wool fused to sweatshirt, which is, as you can see, perfect.  It's a sad day when a woman has to sew a coaster to get her mojo back.

 

 

Phinny's Tunic

Back to the topic of O.P.P...

Yes, I done sewed it wrong.  Agin.  Why can't I just listen to the pattern and do what it says?!  I know how, I am just too stubborn.  But still, this is a good pattern, called Charlie's Tunic from the Made by Rae blog.  I did find that whole trim attachment to be a bit clumsy though.  But I have been known to be be lazy on the iron.  I would like to take this opportunity to praise, if not worship before this so called Rae for designing a kids shirt with the proper armscye!  Yes, Rae, you did it. 

Here's what it is supposed to look like (image from Made by Rae):

 

And here is how I  botched it up good.  I like to call my version (made from an old t-shirt and some pieces of a duvet cover) the "Burt Reynolds", for that more revealing, carefree look.  I feel there is something more, hmmm.... biblical looking in my version too, so maybe I can re-work this into a set of nativity patterns.*  Potentially lucrative!  There are a lot of Christian Evangelical types out there that sew, from what I can tell.  Oh wait.  Maybe it's just Phinny's hand position.  Asking for more Pirate's Booty, or blessing the masses?  You decide.

*DO NOT use this exact idea if you are doing a set of nativity costumes, because I am almost certain there is a small linen blend in that trim, in which case, according to Leviticus, you could get yourself smote.

Pig Pig

Speaking of O.P.P., my friend Danielle gave me this pattern for some stuffed toys recently, and I couldn't think of how to use it to make something interesting (because regular stuffed characters made from floral quilting cottons do not inspire me).  Truthfully, I might have thought sewing an animal shape might be too hard.  I mean, I know it wouldn't be literally too hard, but you know, if you're lazy, hard can sometimes mean- "My pee is orange, I really need to drink some water...fridge too far...forget it."

But then Phinny found the pattern envelope in my studio and came and dropped it in my lap.  Resolutely, she said, "Make.  Pig Pig.  Mama."  I said, "Okay, Boostink,  pick some fabric from the box."  She handed me purple.  "Poople Pig Pig."  And walked away.  If you try and tell me you could say 'no' to that, I will call you a liar.

And mere moments later, Pig Pig was born.  She smirks, because she is a knowing pig.  A pig who knows. She doesn't look a damn thing like the pattern picture, but she's much more cuddly since she's made of old sweatshirt.