Life has felt kind of fragmented lately, between Montreal and central New York, and it's been hard to sustain the necessary concentration for writing and artwork -- but I've felt like I needed a break anyway. Sewing and cooking have both felt like good things to do. For the past three days, I've been working on a new project from the "Nani Iro Sewing Studio" book. Nani Iro is a Japanese clothing and textile designer, and in this book she presents 18 patterns for tops, dresses, pants and coats. All have simple shapes, but in some cases the construction is both clever and tricky. That was the case with the first project I chose, the "Elbow Sleeve Pocket Dress" shown here. I got completely fascinated with it from the minute I unfolded the pattern sheets from their envelope in the back of the book.
There are just five pieces: the dress front and back, the sleeve extensions, and the back and front neck facings. Simple, right? Well, not exactly, because the shape of the dress is made by making precisely-placed folds, which are partially or fully sttiched, and end up forming two pockets in the front, softly extended shoulders, and two folds in the back of the garment which attach with buttons to draw in the sides at the waist. It's so clever, simple, and timelessly elegant -- I also love that there are no zippers, no set-in sleeves, and that almost every step could be done on the machine, without additional fussy hand-sewing.
The hemline is asymmetrical, with the front shorter than the back. I had bought 2 yards of this purple linen with a tiny woven stripe, but the pattern (which I got after I ordered the fabric...) called for 2.5 yards. It occured to me while laying out the pattern that by folding the cloth differently, I could use the leftover width along the selvage edge to make a horizontal band to add to the hem. This resulted in the called-for length and also added some visual interest -- and I'm really happy with how that came out.
I've been toying for years with the idea of making clothes from these Japanese dress books, but I never took the plunge. I think that a novice sewer would have trouble following the directions, but if you have some dressmaking experience, you can definitely do it. You just have to study the diagrams and instructions carefully BEFORE cutting and before sewing anything, because they are quite different from the traditional patterns most of us are used to in the west.
I was also helped by the fact that my friend K. gave me a machine she wasn't using a little while ago, and during the last trip to the U.S. I bought a foot pedal for it. My old Singer is a great machine, heavier-duty than this one, with a much longer throat so I can use it for quilting and heavy fabrics. But this newer machine has several features that helped a lot. One was a very good overcasting foot that allowed me to overcast all the edges of this easily-fraying linen, without needing a serger (which I don't have.) Another was the excellent buttonhole attachment. The machine fed the fabric very well and the tension was perfect -- I just needed to get used to using it.
The linen, from The Linen Lab in South Korea, was a joy to work with; sometimes I wonder why I sew anything else (I guess it's because we have winter here.) I'm happy thinking of the other pieces I bought that are waiting to be turned into garments, and looking forward to wearing this new dress, which will be perfect for the hot humid summer weather we're still waiting for here in Montreal.
A page from the instructions.
The front folds are stitched to form pockets and bring in the waistline.
Closeup of the hem.
The back folds in, and closes with buttons, or can be left loose.
An interesting pattern, and lovely fabric and colour. Nice work!
Posted by: Andrea M. | July 03, 2023 at 04:14 PM
Beautiful in every way.
Posted by: am | July 04, 2023 at 10:11 AM