There is something special about sewing in good company.  Every Monday,  I do just that.  In the last 6 months I have had the privilege of also sewing with my sister.

 

Viva La Liberty, my oversew entry, is made from a collection of shirts. The outfit is a memory palace of fabrics and stories of treasured items.

My family is big on narrative and epic stories.  Objects are given a history, to be recalled should anyone ask.  Locations on a road trip trigger stories of "The time when.."  Everything becoming a part of an intricate memory palace.  So it is natural that the pieces in Viva La Liberty have their own stories too.

This is the story of the pieces in Viva La Liberty.

A collection of Liberty shirts - 9 in total.  While most of the shirts were found in thrift shops, two were made by family members.  These shirts are a tangible evidence of women expressing themselves over the years through their craft and selection of fabrics.

Each shirt is carefully disassembled allowing the fabric to be reused and re-celebrated.  The seams, collars and cuffs are removed before being washed and pressed flat.  The tradition  of disassembling to wash, or reuse, is common with revered garments, such as kimono.
 The oldest shirt belonged to my Great Aunt. The handsewn name tag is testament that it was one of her favourites as it was packed with her when she moved to a nursing home.  During the disassembly of this shirt, the fabric proved too frail for this project. Only the label has been used in the oversewn garments.  The remainder of the fabric has been put aside for use in a creation more suited to it’s delicate state.

A Liberty skirt - This was originally a kit-set for the enthusiastic, but less confident home-sewer.  It came with shirred edging, buttonholes and buttons allowing the discerning woman to make their very own skirt, with minimal effort.
This skirt was given to me by my godmother after years of use.  My love of sewing has always been encouraged by family, though acts of generosity, such as this.  Given a tradition of frugality and love of fabric, this skirt could only be treasured and passed on.  Part of this garment’s story is told through patches concealing buttons that were sewn and resewn, as well as darker areas that were hidden in the deep hems of the original skirt.
A Liberty toddler’s dress - This small dress was passed to me by an Aunt because she thought I would treasure the fabric and “could do something with it”.  It had obviously been sewn at home, with loving hands, and was meant for a child who would only fit it for a brief moment.  Dresses like this illustrates how women have shown love by wrapping their children in the most precious fabrics.

A white linen shirt made by myself in 1993, in my earlier years of home-sewing. This shirt featured everything conformist about the 90’s from paua shell buttons, to copious amounts of billowing white linen. This shirt had been worn by myself, passed to my mother for wearing and then catalogued with those items “too good to throw out” at the back of every wardrobe.  Fortunately, the hand sewn name tag, saw the shirt to returned to me and reinvented in this outfit.  I took great delight in being able to rework my own sewing, as each piece of the shirt was unpicked, pockets removed and buttons put aside.  The newly created garments are both different from and reflective of, the original piece.

Leggings are the true work horse of the wardrobes around here.  This year I reluctantly traced out the largest size in my tried and true pattern.  I find it hard to believe that I really have made this pattern in all sizes from 3 to 8. While I've never written about these before you can see them in the background of many of our adventures over the years.


My favorite has to be yellow leggings.  They make every outfit awesome and have been made again and again in different sizes.  I sometimes wish I could just pull on a pair myself to brighten up dull moments.

I have used NewLook 6639.  As this have been a 6 year journey of legging making, this pattern is sadly out of print. The cover art has dated a little too. You need to look past it to see the magic. This pattern turns the smallest length of stretch fabric into beloved leggings.   The pattern uses 2 pieces (front and back) and sews up very quickly.  If you are looking for something similar, I'd recommend trying Simplicity 8105 or Kwiksew 3958.

In the mean time, I'm on the hunt for a new leggings pattern for my oldest daughter.  Sizes 8+ can be just a little harder to find.  There is the twist that you are no longer dressing toddlers or little kids.  Perhaps she might even be nudging the XS end of the women's patterns that I sew for myself.  Somehow I'm just not ready for that.  I'm delighting that E still spies sparkly fabric in the sewing room and lets me make her clothes.

 
It is all about the little moments.  The calendar has turned, the decorations are coming out and we are counting down to Christmas.  We have a nightly tradition of advent calendar and Christmas stories before bed.  The candle is new for us.  We pop up between stories to check how far it has burnt, with a little line for each day. We take it in turns to blow it out.

Oh, we have so many Christmas stories, that I really must share them at some point.  Stories that warm the heart, talk of a certain Saint Nicholas (anyone remember him in all the rush?) and some that have me so misty eyed I find them hard to finish.  We sit on the couch, huddled, necks craning to see pictures and we read.

It is nice to be spending the time together.  As we hear of family members battling with illnesses and odds, the lists of perfectly co-ordinated decorations fall away, and we remember it really is a privilege to spend these moments together.

Stir it up Sunday is something my grandmother introduced me to.  Before launching into all the rush of Advent and associated Christmas preparations, we have Stir it up Sunday.  It takes it's name from a 1549 prayer

"Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded;"

While this could trigger all manner of contemplation, this talk of stirring and fruit sounds suspiciously like pudding. Since the 1800's Stir it up Sunday, has been known as the perfect time to be making Christmas pudding.

Gran took great pride in sharing traditions with me.  As she told me all about this day, she smiled conspiratorially, and told me she had already made her puddings.

Given the day and all it's traditions, it could only mean a trip to Grandma's, my mother, for the girls to Stir it Up.

Measuring

Making bread crumbs

Cutting liners

Stiring it Up

And finally - the first cooking

It must be spring.  The picnic basket is dusted off.  My family has returned from holiday, just in time to enjoy the last few days of the cherry blossoms.  There was muffins, sandwiches, cherry hair clips and much running.

Miss H is wearing a dress smocked by Grandma for Aunty E.  Little E on the other had was not going to dress up, no way.  At least she was well dressed for tree climbing.

My favourite part of a blanket would have to be the satin along the edges. These cushions celebrate blanket ribbon in all it's hues and leave the satin edge free for little hands to explore.

Growing up, we only slept with blankets when were at my grandparents. There is a certain security in going to sleep with the satin edges clutched between fingers.  For me, it means that, even though I'm away from home, I've been tucked in by someone who cares.

These cushions are made out of a collection of blanket samples for Onehunga Woollen Mills.  Each came with its name written on a small adhesive label.  In stops and starts I have been sewing the name of each colour onto it's respective sample since 2010.  We have everything from the blues of  seascape and navy, to the very pale whites of natural and eggshell.

And as an added bonus, they are nice to snuggle up with too.

After a week in Oslo, we parted ways.  My sister and Dad traveling to Sweden and me heading home to  a very patient family. 

Dad enjoyed every minute of showing his girls around the land that so captured his imagination.  A land with a history of exploration, both ancient vikings and pioneering polar races.

Vikings, polar ships and symbols

It is also home to many people who are dear to my father's heart.  It was a privilege to spend time with them. 

Detail from Oslo Town Hall mural series

Someone asked what took him to Norway in the first place.  The reasons are as complex as they are deeply personal.  Their meaning shifts over the years.  In spending the time with Dad, I sometimes feel we only got a glimpse of his version of history.  Yes, it offered adventure, and yes there was a woman involved.  But at a time when Dad was feeling most broken, in every sense, this distant land also offered the time and space that he needed to learn to walk again.

The Hytt, the car and the adventure

 Much of my family history is rooted in the adventures my parents had before they met.  For various reasons, my father, Bob, kept returning to Norway. 

One such trip was in the summer of 1975.  Dad had a little British car that was made for driving on the other side of the road. I can attest to just how unnerving it would be as it took me days to adjust to driving on the other side of the road, when I was in the right sort of car.

With car, dad took off to a small lake and proceeded to help rebuild a dilapidated hyutt (hut, a Norwegian summer house). The hyutt was made in 1923 and ready for some care.  It was a little out of town, a fair day trip to get to by foot or bike.

The Sun shone a lot that summer.  There were lakeside parties, picnics and feasts.  With a set of wheels, it also meant that if there was a party anywhere in the vicinity, Dad and his friends were there.
As my sister and I traveled through Norway with Dad we were able to meet many of these friends.  We heard that tales of the summer my Dad spent by the lake.  A summer that the sun shone brighter and the parties were bigger.  It has gone down in history as "The Bob Summer".

Once upon a time there was a beautiful  ball gown and a lovely little sister.   They were perfectly matched.  The dress was just right for school balls and other glamorous occasions and the sister was, of course, lovely.

Over time the dress grew a little tired and the little sister grew too.  They were no longer the perfect match that they once were. 

This is how I came to start unpicking my sister's ball gown.  We scoured my Burda magazines looking for options.  The skirt was carefully hand washed, ironed and unpicked some more.
We settled on burda 12-2011-102 .  She traced and I cut.  Initially there was going to be a muslin, but that became the lining as deadlines loomed closer. Hemming was fine line between taste and daring.

Finally, it was finished.
Sweet curved neckline doubling as straps, fully lined, shiny bow and floaty baby hem.  What more could a you want?  The dress gets to live another day.
 Perfect for each other again...