A life in lists

Do not adjust your set. This is not the 1980s. But it is sort of like it. Remember 'Getting your colours done'? It's back.

Do you remember in the 1980s when everyone was getting their colours 'done'? Obviously I don't, because I wasn't born for the first couple of years of the 1980s, and was more interested in what kinds of muck I could smear onto my clothes than the clothes themselves for the rest of the decade. Anyway.

The first time anyone mentioned colour analysis to me was when a kind-of-relative (assuming you can call the mother of the chap who married someone who's sort of your cousin apart from all the step and half relatives in between a relative...) sang its praises to me the best part of a decade ago. She persuaded me (and my kind-of-relative) to go and have our 'colours done' and I, after much to-ing and fro-ing (turns out I have freaky skin tone) was analysed as  'Clear and Warm', which roughly tranlates to a Clear/Bright Spring within other systems, if you're interested in such things. I could instantly see the benefits of the analysis - pretty much all the colours within the little swatch book I was given matched one another, and all of them looked good on me. In theory, at least.

Very quickly, though, I realised that some of my (wide range of) colours weren't actually that great on me, and began to self limit to only about a third of my palette, and gradually more or less forgot about the whole thing.

However, two children and a bit of a style crisis later, I began to look into the idea again, and became more and more interested in the process and the power of wearing your best colours (when you're getting less than four hours sleep a night you need all the help you can get to look healthy, right?). The interest turned into fascination, and I quickly read anything I could lay my hands on that covered the subject. And there is a lot of reading matter out there, of varying quality.

Late last year I finally bit the bullet and got re-analysed by a House of Colour consultant and was surprised (although not entirely shocked, given the research I'd done) to come out as an Autumn. For various reasons I am infinitely more comfortable with this analysis, not least because my lovely consultant talked me through every single aspect of the process and made sure I was completely happy with each step before carrying on. And finally, I have the holy grail - a palette of colours that co-ordinate perfectly and make me look healthier! And it, turns out, being an autumn doesn't mean a lifetime of beige and coffee colours - indeed, most of my best colours are the brighter colours within my palette (House of Colour, unlike most other analysis systems, 'score' the colours within your palette so you know which ones are best near your face and which ones to stick to trousers and skirts with).

Now, try not to laugh, but seriously, if you've never thought of doing it, I can't recommend having a colour (and style, but we'll worry about that another day) analysis highly enough. Make sure you pick a consultant who has been fully and properly trained (House of Colour do the most in depth training I know of in the UK, and Sci/Art consultants in the States appear to receive great training too, although the two analysis systems operate slightly differently). If you're in the South East I'll happily recommend my consultant, but the training that House of Colour give is so thorough that I reckon you'd be safe visiting any of them.

Oh, but maybe think about avoiding the whole thing if the idea of abandoning your trusty white or black clothes terrifies you - I know a few people who just cannot cope without black, for all that it makes them look like a freshly dug corpse.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to attempt to track down a top in my perfect green...

Warm! And Stylish! And please don't tell me otherwise

Those bottom buttons are perfectly level in real life. Weird.

For some reason waistcoats are inextricably linked in my mind with early episodes of Friends. Doesn't Monica wear some kind of white one in the opening credits? Or maybe it's just that Friends, the early 90s and the shapeless waistcoat all occurred at exactly the same time and therefore linked in my head.

Anyway.

This waistcoat is emphatically not that iconic 90's fashion disaster, the drapey waistcoat. This one has (the clue's in the name) a waist. Incidentally, it actually fits me better than it fits Daphne (the dummy), because for all her many virtues, Daphne simply cannot replicate my very level broad shoulders and ginormo-breastfeeding-boobs. I don't have all that spare fabric at the shoulders when I wear it. I suppose I could have put a bra on her and padded it, but I was trying to take pictures in the four and a half minutes of naptime that Jasper thinks is more than adequate. No modelled shots on me because my sister/photographer/nanny/biscuit provider thoughtlessly moved to London last week.

My waistcoat journey started a couple of weeks ago on a not-terribly-successful shopping trip. Despite the general lack of clothing joy, at some point during the afternoon I gave in to the temptation to try on a waistcoat. I don't know why, but I'm largely blaming it on the beautifully soft twill fabric. It was this Cabbages and Roses one, if you're interested. Although the neckline was too high, the colour all wrong and the price tag way out of my range, I could see the potential. And so I stopped by my local fabric shop on the way home and splashed out on Simplicity 2556. I weighed up a couple of waistcoat patterns, but this one has a collar option, is double breasted and, crucially, has a cool alternative to a stupid adjuster thing on the back (not stupid, presumably, if you need to actually adjust your waistcoat, but irritatingly pointless on a garment that I was intending to be fitted).

This is the first pattern I've ever made actual proper muslins (plural) for, and it really paid off. I also spent a sensible amount of time on the finishing details rather than rushing it once I'd passed the halfway mark. On the whole, I am enjoying the process of garment construction a whole lot more as I become a bit more competent. It is becoming more and more worthwhile, in terms of fit, finish and project satisfaction, to spend more time in the early stages in order to finish up with a garment I love.

The best bit about this waistcoat is that it's really cosy. I know, that's terribly practical and not at all interesting, but when you spend half your day scrabbling around the garden for twigs with a three year old, and the other half marching the streets trying to persuade the 8-month old to nap, warmth becomes an important part of your life. The waistcoat provides a crucial extra layer of insulation without adding any bulk at all, really.

Project notes - Warm and Stylish (for that is what I am christening this)

• The pattern is Simplicity 2556. Please ignore the incredibly alarming envelope images. How on earth do Simplicity manage such appalling styling every single time? It's no wonder that patterns from Built by Wendy and Lisette do so well - they are the only ones without terrifying pictures on the front. 2556 has lots of different options for fastening, back view and collars, and the pattern pieces are relatively easy to play round with
• The fabric is a fantastically cheap piece of corduroy (I think it was about £4 a metre) from Goldhawk Road (street in London with approximately one billion fabric shops. I recommend it, especially for garment sewing). My sister bought this for me a while back to make some trousers for Teddy. Sorry Teddy. it's a lovely navy blue, and I think has some synthetic in it (based purely on the fact that it smells weird whgen ironed). I love the chunky corduroy though - it's really easy to find nice needlecord, but thick cord is much harder for some reason.

• The lining and collar facing is a Liberty print (I would have preferred to make the collar facing from the cord, but just couldn't squeeze and extra piece out of the one metre I had). I bought it on my last restocking trip to London, and somehow forgot to note down the name, but it's nice. And lovely and soft obviously, as all Liberty of London tana lawn is.
• As I mentioned last week, I have more or less given up on fusible interfacing. I hate the way it shrinks disproportionately to the fabric, and the drape it gives just seems weird. I have been informed that better quality interfacing helps (thanks Millie!), but since I hate buying things like that online, I'm trying alternatives for now. This pattern called for interfacing in the collar and the front pieces, so I used a single layer of a lightweight organic unbleached cotton. I am so pleased with the results. The drape is similar to the original fabric, with the bit of extra body I wanted. Plus I felt terribly professional with my lined fabric pieces. I cut the cotton exactly the same as the corduroy, then used the longest stitch on my machine to baste them together within the seam allowance. After that I just treated them as one piece of fabric.
• I made an initial muslin of the original pattern (View C), as I wanted to see how it went together before messing around with the pattern. In future I'll probably be a bit braver about making the odd change before a first muslin, but this was actually a really valuable step for me as a complete novice at adjusting patterns. I saw some areas where there was too much volume, marked it with a sharpie, and simply adjusted the pattern pieces by that amount afterwards. I also changed the neckline from a swoop to a much straighter one, and changed the collar shape, as well as making it a full collar (the pattern has it stopping at the shoulder seams, which is just weird). My collar, despite two muslins, is a fraction of an inch too full at the back, so I need to tack it down to stop it curling up. No big problem though.
• I took my time with every step of ths waistcoat, and I really feel like it shows (to me, anyway). The finish is better than on any garment I've made yet, and I hope to be wearing this one all winter!
• Funny thing - I've had waistcoat envy for months, and it was only as I finished mine that I realised I'd used the same pattern as Tasia. Can't believe it didn't occur to me to check which one she used before starting out.
• Make again? Definitely! I already have another one planned in grey wool, and I'm debating whether to make it identical or change it a bit - perhaps no collar? I don't want to get too carried away with tailored pieces right now though, as I know my shape will change hugely (again) when I stop breastfeeding (again).

A slightly more sophisticated scarf

Slightly more classy than last week's scarf.

If ever I mention that I need a new scarf, there is something of a differenece of opinion on the matter in my family. On one side, there is me. On the other, everyone else.

According to some ill informed people (Adam), as long as you have one scarf, you are good to go. I think that these people (Adam) are wrong.

It's possibly something to do with the fact that (a) a scarf always fits (I have been pregnant or breastfeeding for most of the last 4 years. I have been a lot of sizes and shapes), (b) they instantly cheer up all outfits, (c) I hate hate hate having a cold neck and (d) it's an instant baby blanket/bib/mess cleaner upper/food down front hider/discreet breastfeeding weapon. What's not to love?

I bought this gorgeous wool/cotton mix Liberty fabric a couple of weeks ago, and was vaguely planning on properly hemming it, but I got bored of looking at it in my workroom instead of wearing it, so I simply frayed the long edges (the selveges already had the perfect amount of frayage, so I left them) and wrapped it round my neck!

The colour is absolutely gorgeous - beautifully saturated, as you'd expect from Liberty, and the fabric is divine, with real weight and drape. I'd love to make a winter dress from it. In fact, my sister has the same blend in a different print and is planning doing exactly that.

The length of the scarf (the width of the bolt) is a fraction less than I'd like (really another 12" or so for maximum draping would be ideal), but a little vintage eidelweiss brooch to hold it in place solved that problem in about four seconds.

All in all, I'm declaring this the Easiest-Project-Of-2011-Scarf. And anyone who thinks I now have even more of an excess of scarves (Adam) is wrong wrong wrong.

Facing up to interfacing

Apologies for the silly photo. Again, I had to behead myself in the interests of not appearing as a total crazy lady and scaring you all away.

Interfacing is becoming a bit of a bugbear of mine. I hate fusible interfacing - it always seems to shrink differently to the main fabric, and creates a messy wrinkled look. And the drape it gives is a bit stiff yet floppy, if you know what I mean. Probably this is all down to my inferior interfacing skills, but nonetheless, I hate it.

And so, in an effort to move away from fusible interfacing I... ermm... forgot to interface any part of this skirt whatsoever. I was planning on using some stiff-ish organic cotton I have kicking around to interface the waistband and button placket, but realised as I sewed the buttonholes that I had completely failed to do so.

Unfortunately this denim is reasonably soft, so the result is a button placket that drags at each buttonhole, as the fabric isn't rigid enough. Ho hum.

But aside from that, I'm rather pleased with this skirt, especially as it marks my first ever effort at any sort of pattern manipulation beyond moving a seam inwards or outward half an inch. I used the pattern from Sew U (great book, well worth a purchase as a startig point to realising that actually you can play around with patterns), adding a button placket (I might do a tutorial on that - it's really not hard). In another first, I also finished the seams with bias binding. It looks seriously amazing. My technique was rubbish (once I've had another couple of goes I might even manage a tutorial on that too), but even so it looks lovely, and really makes the inside of the skirt rather pretty. Because, you know, that's important.

 

Project notes - A Sew U skirt with pockets

• Pattern from Sew U by Wendy Mullin, with the addition of pockets, the removal of the back zip and the addition of a button placket down the front. Easy peasy.
• I sewed a size 12, in a soft denim, which I think is organic. I've had it for ages
• I finished the edges with some single fold Liberty print bias binding. I'll be listing some more of it in my shop soon - I don't think there's any there at the moment. I didn't do a remotely good job, but am totally addicted and will be finishing more seams like this in future.
• The skirt is a little bit, ahem, snug around the hips and baggy on the waist, because I wasn't confident enough in my adjustments. Lesson learned - believe it when the tape measure tells you to adjust something by four inches one way and three inches another!
• As I mentioned, I forgot to interface the button placket and waistband. And my gosh does it show after a few hours wear. The buttonholes start to gape a bit (aforementioned snugness not helping this) and the waistband flops a bit. No huge drama, but I'll definitely be fixing this in round two.
• I chopped a few inches off the length of the pattern. I'm not sure how much, but I'm pleased with the length I ended up with. Not too mini, not too frumpy.
• I think I might make this again, in heavier denim, with interfacing (of the sew in variety) in the appropriate places.
• I'd like to tell you that the mismatched buttons are an important style choice. Actually I didn't have enough buttons that matched and I'm too cheap to buy more. I think next time I make this I might cover some buttons in Liberty fabric. Yum.

My kingdom for a wardrobe

Applying Liberty print seam binding (my new love) to a denim skirt.

Am I the only one whose life has trned into one long clothing crisis?

My body shape has been up and down (well, in and out really) an awful lot over the past four years, what with growing and feeding two children in quick succession. While this has resulted in two (mostly) lovely little boys who bring huge joy to our lives, the net effect on my wardrobe has been somewhat less uplifting.

I solved my summer wardrobe crisis with a couple of well placed t-shirts, but my winter one is a bit more problematic. As of a week or so ago, my seasonally appropriate clothing consisted of:

1. The Liberty cord dress I made
2. The post natal tunic
3. One maternity tunic that I really need to stop wearing
4. A handful of leggings
5. One summer dress I have been (in a state of sartorial black hole-ness) pairing with leggings and boots
6. One pair of (worn out and actually worn through) jeans
7. One corduroy mini that is so huge I can not only remove it without undoing it, but if I run it actually falls down
8. One gorgeous cashmere dress that needs a small hole darning before I can actually wear it
9. Two t-shirts
10. Assorted undergarments
11. One winter coat (maternity, but since I have Jasper in the sling more or less constantly, that's fine)
12. About 12 scarves

I wish I was exaggerating, but that seriously was the sum total of my winter clothes.

Adam took pity on me over the weekend and donated me a gift card he'd been sent for a faulty item of clothing, and I grudgingly (because I've been avoiding clothes shopping until I was a bit richer/thinner. Hah) took to the shops. And spent two hours muttering, "I could make that for less/look at that appalling finish/oh my gosh that colour's all wrong/I would love that if only the hemline were slightly different."

Along with a couple of t-shirts, a warm top and a sweet pinafore dress, I came home armed with two patterns, a bit of fabric from the remnant bin and a determination to stop whinging and start sewing. And here's what I'm making:

1. The perfect denim skirt. That's the preliminary version up at the top of the post. I'm really pleased with the pattern (altered from the skirt pattern in Sew U). I'm happy with the skirt, but there are a few changes to make. I'll post project details tomorrow.
2. A waistcoat (or vest, if you prefer). I tried on a gorgeous Cabbages and Roses one, but (a) I'm not that rich, (b) the colour wasn't perfect on me and (c) I want a different neckline. Step up Simplicity 2556 (please ignore the foul styling on the envelope) and a remnant of navy wool suiting. I've just finished sewing the first draft of the muslin.
3. I also tried on a Cabbages and Roses wool skirt (are you sensing a theme? Their stuff is such lovely quality, but designed for a rather more waif-like shape than me), which was also gorgeous, but way out of my price range and a couple of inches too short. I could have drafted a pattern for this skirt, but McCalls M6402 was cheaper than the two or three hours of childcare I'd need to draft a pattern.

I would have liked to make a pinafore dress too, rather than buy it, but until someone persuades my children to occupy themselves for 6 hours or so at a time, I have to be halfway realistic. Besides, I got a nice grey one on sale for £20.

Incidentally, where do you stand on copying/taking inspiration from ready-to-wear clothes? I'm not feeling terribly guilty as I'm planning on making garments inspired by (rather than totally ripped off from) the clothes I tried on, plus I wouldn't be able to afford those prices even if the clothes were absolutely perfect, but I'd love to know where others draw the line.

Photo shoots are HARD (oh, but I did actually sew something)

Seriously. Out of perhaps 50 photos, this is the only one in which I have my eyes open, don't look like I weight 18 stone, am not grinnning like a loon/talking and therefore making that 'ooooo' face and you can actually see the dress which is, after all, the entire reason for the photo shoot.

I finished this dress a few weeks ago, but it's taken this long to palm my kids off on someone (Adam) long enough to get my sister to snap a few pictures of me. Incidentally, I am now even more impressed at Charlotte's regular outfit posts (like this one, which I actually shot). She merrily strikes poses (usually in front of a tripod, not even an actual person) on the side of roads, in front of people's garden gates, and at almost any random location throughout the city. She is bonkers. We got honked at by a passing car during our photo shoot today (outside the local Royal Mail sorting office, on the side of a busy road) and she cheerily said, "oh, that happens a lot, I don't really notice," or words to that effect. Bonkers, I tell you.

I had to behead myself here. My face was just too ridiculous for words.

Anyway, the dress. I made it from some lovely Liberty print corduroy that I bought a couple of months ago with the intention of turning it into this dress (you can see the rest of the 'autumn palette' I'm hoping to sew with in this post). I'm really pleased with the whole thing, which I'm treating as something of a wearable muslin, as I'm hoping to use this pattern again.

Project notes - Lisette traveller dress

• The fabric is a Liberty print corduroy, bought from Fabrics Galore
• The pattern is Simplicity 2246, the Lisette Traveller Dress. I sewed View A.
• I cut a size 14, and, amazingly, it's a bit big for me in places (not over my ginormous post-baby bust and hips, of course).
• As with all of Liesl Gibson's designs, this pattern is beautifully designed, the instructions are simple to follow (even for slightly more complex areas, such as the one piece collar and stand) and the finished product looks professional and stylish (or it would do, if I'd bothered to fit it slightly better). She is a really good designer, of both kids and adults clothes.
• I need to make some alterations to this dress. I will alter this dress and the pattern pieces for future versions (there will be future versions, I guarantee it, of all the views. This is a great and versatile pattern).
• The waist needs to come in a couple of inches, either with darts or just by lopping some out of the side seams - I'll probably try that first and go for darts if it doesn't work. I'm not looking to make this a super-slim-fitting dress, but it would be good to look a little less like a pillow tied in the middle when wearing it -I'm not sure I'd need to do this with a drapier fabric, but the corduroy rather stays stuck away from my body where there's excess fabric.
• When I first made it, I thought the dress was too short for my stocky little legs, and was planning to add a couple of inches to the next version, but now I see the pictures, I think it's probably OK. I'm 5'6", for the record.
• I think I may have actually mucked up the sleeves, but I'll double check the length of the hem allowance before I make another version. The sleeves are a bit long or a bit short, depending on your point of view and whether you want to roll them up or not. I think with a cotton lawn or chambray, I'd make them a fraction longer so as to roll them up, but if I were to make another heavy weight one in corduroy or similar I'd make the sleeves a little narrower and shorter, so there was no need to roll them up.
• I'm planning on making View C next, perhaps with a Liberty print cotton lawn for the upper and a light denim for the lower portion. But I am determined not to give into the temptation to start until (a) I have sewn the simple A-line denim skirt that I really need and (b) I am a bit less chubby. Possibly reducing my biscuit consumption a fraction would assist with the journey to pre-pregnancy weight.

As this dress has formed part of my (small contribution) to Celebrate Color with Rachel Hauser of Stitiched in Color, so I'm linking up to October's Sewing Challenge. If you're visiting from there, hi, welcome, and I hope that you're enjoying your visit to my little space!

I am Not Good at photo shoots. Sorry.

Winter sewing (and knitting) plans: Teddy

Irrelevant photo. Teddy admiring Grumpa Rog's motorbike (one of several).

Planning my own winter wardrobe last week got me thinking about what the boys needed to bulk out their wardrobes this winter. Teddy's need is greater, due to the absence of hand me downs in his life. And so, I have created a list that bears absolutely no relation to the amount of free time I actually have.

This is what I'd like to make for Teddy before the cold season really hits:

1. Lined trousers. He had some lovely cosy ones last winter that he wore practically every day, but they now hover somewhere around mid-calf length. I'm thinking of adapting and sizing up the quick change trousers from Handmade Beginnings by Anna Maria Horner, but I'm open to other pattern suggestions.
2. Colourwork sweater. The one from This month's list.
3. T-shirts, a handful thereof. I'd love to make some in super cool colours, but am rather obliged by budget constraints (and the look on Adam's face when yet more fabric enters our house) to use up my stash of random jerseys and thrifted men's t-shirts first. Incidentally, does anyone have any top tips for hemming jersey without a coverstitch machine? I just can't settle on a good technique.
4. A waterproof hat, using (for the billionth time) the bucket hat pattern from Little Things to Sew and some laminate fabric.
5. Knitted socks. Lots of cosy knitted socks.
6. Pyjamas. I have a whole load of brushed cotton ready to go, and I'm holding out great hopes for the pyjama pattern in Sewing for Boys (which should be arriving any day now. Hooray!)
7. A dressing gown (robe) for staying cosy in winter. With fuel prices the way they ae I think I'm going to be insisting on a bare minimum of 14 layers before I'll agree to turn the heating on this winter.
8. Woolly hat, mittens and scarf. Although last year's scarf might actually still be up to the job.

And this is what else he needs to complete his wardrobe. I may need to admit defeat and buy some of these:

1. Another sweater. He currently has a whopping one sweater that fits (this one, as it happpens. Turns out my fit prediction was right, even though he's actually been wearing it all year). I'd like to knit one, but am aware that there's optimism and then there's just plain silly. And you haven't even seen Jasper's list yet.
2. Wellies. I am prepared to accept not making these. I have found the perfect ones online with pull on handles, just need to measure Teddy's feet again before ordering (the child just keeps growing)
3. Some heavy weight trousers, probably involving a synthetic fabric in some way, for nursery.  His (Montessori) nursery are big into being outdoors whenever possible, so he needs some warm but easy to care for clothes for nursery that won't wear out in one second flat
4. Proper winter waterproofs (trousers and coat). For aforementioned outdoorsy nursery, and for our own reasonably free range lifestyle. Any brand recommendations very welcome! I've heard that the various Scandinavian makes are best (if there's one thing they know about, it's cold winters!

Um. Optimistic? Definitely. Realistic? Not even a tiny bit. Never mind, the hand making police probably won't come and arrest me if I end up buying more than I make. It's nice to dream.

I've got something to show you tomorrow that I've been saving up all week, and I'll put my ever-so-slightly-optimistic list for Jasper up on Thursday.

Score! I bought new stuff. It was harder than I expected.

 

L to R, from top: 1. Kite print t-shirt from Hobbs, 2. Navy classic Toms, 3. Charcoal sleeveless t-shirt from Zara, 4. Yellow cardigan from Hobbs, 5. Star print scarf from Zara, 6. Coral linen classic Toms.

Add a couple of basic navy and mint green t-shirts and a nude camisole or two (thank you, H&M and Zara), and you've got the new improved version of my wardrobe. A few handmade additions over the next few weeks (plus me shrinking the extra inch I need to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans) and I'll be set for summer. That's if it ever actually appears. Today, on the South coast (i.e. the sunny bit of Britain) it is overcast and seriously windy, with occasional rain showers (but not enough to save us needing to water the garden, of course).

I was surprised to find that buying these new bits (bar the shoes) was really difficult for me. Once upon a time I would have gone so far as to call myself a bit of a shopaholic, but budget constraints and a love of hand making have apparently cured me of that over the years. I found that as soon as I picked something up while we were shopping my inner voice would pipe up 'I could make a nicer version of that for less money', like a particularly useless Jiminy Cricket.

Adam would interject at this point to mention that this reluctance to spend money does not extend to scarves. I do love a good scarf (I am seriously lusting after a Lazy Days one, as well as pining after a UK version of this shop). Never mind the fact that (a) scarves are the easiest things in the world to make and (b) you can't easily wear a scarf when carrying a baby in a sling. I heart scarves. Adam is less convinced, but very understanding of my obsession.

Anyway, I think the ability to make things is part of the reason my wardrobe has been such a disaster of late - I'd been avoiding buying things I could make, but not actually finding the time to make them. Finally I have given into the fact that despite my ambitions (and the lists to match them), I just don't have time for everything I would like to do (it's those darn children, I tell you), and if I want, for example, to be able to make half the clothes for our fast-approaching wedding, I need to go and buy at least some of the other things that I now don't have time to make before late July.

Incidentally, can I once again praise my colour swatches (scroll down that post)? Thanks to them everything I have bought co-ordinates, and means I don't need to think much beyond 'top? Check. Trousers/skirt? Check. Scarf? Check. Rock 'n' roll.'

And now I am off to feverishly work on Adam's Negroni so I can start working on a shirt/dress/skirt for me.

Style? I'm sure I used to know what that meant...

My clothes. All of them.

I'm reasonably sure I used to be stylish. There are small clues dotted through my wardrobe; the well-worn, beautifully cut leather jacket (now well into its 11th year and beginning to slightly disintegrate), a handful of scarves and necklaces (from a time when I presumably remembered to don more than clean underwear, trousers and a t-shirt), two nicely cut skirts with labels that suggest they cost more than a tenner. And, ummm, that's about it. The rest of my wardrobe is made up of eek-I'm-post-natal-and-nothing-fits-jeans and I-know-it's-maternity-wear-but-it-FITS-and-I-can-breastfeed-in-it-tunics. And a heck of a lot of t-shirts sporting holes/tears/stretched-beyond-all-recognition necklines (seriously, before last year I didn't know t-shirts could actually wear out). I won't upset you by discussing my underwear drawer, but let's just say that nursing bras are Not Pretty and leave it at that.

This is not a good situation. Or a good look.

So, in an effort to (a) reward myself for losing weight reasonably quickly after giving birth (I've just purchased this to help speed things along before the wedding, since weight loss has slowed and I'm finally cool with abdominal exercises), (b) regain some sense of style/self-confidence/attractiveness and (c) not scare people when I walk down the street, I'm having a bit of a wardrobe makeover. I appreciate that all of those reasons verge on the shallow (except the scaring people one, and we really are not a long way off that), but, hey, a girl's allowed to want to look pretty, right?

Scope for a full scale makeover is limited, as my clothing options at the moment are reduced to things I can feed in, and we are extremely broke (turns out that even budget weddings are expensive when you invite 100 people and promise to feed them and ply them with alcohol). However, I really need to sort some clothes out, or one rainy day (we don't own a tumble drier) is going to mean me going out in my underwear the next day due to a lack of available clean clothes.

After browsing many many 'organise your wardrobe'/'get the perfect capsule wardrobe'/'be stylish for any occasion' type sites, I've gathered some ideas to pull together my frankly pitiful clothing collection. It's a mixture of sewing patterns, free tutorials and some bits that I'll need to actually buy (sadly I am no cobbler).

From L to R: 1. A Lisette traveller dress pattern, 2. A stripy t-shirt or two (Zara is always a good bet for basics. Am very excited about visiting a store today, as we don't have one locally), 3. A shirt from Sew U, to go with one of the two nice skirts mentioned up-post, 4. lovely yellow goodness, 5. A coral scarf (I am loving pink and coral at the moment, most unlike me). Suspect I won't stretch to that Anthro one though, 6. Neutral tank/vest tops. Adding an extra layer to pull up/down turns almost any stretchy top into a semi-decent nursing top, 7. Coral linen, to make the traveller dress, 8. A simple summer dress, using Maybe Matilda's tutorial (or these ones), 9. Plain t-shirts rule for emergency I-need-to-get-out-of-the-house-days, 10. The market skirt from Lisette, 11. Sweet kimono dress with obi-style waist. There's a similar pattern in Weekend Sewing as well, 12. Gorgeous butterfly scarf (I'm really hoping to find this today), 13. Easy jersey cardigan tutorial (I have some perfect apple green tissue jersey), 14. Toms, in coral and/or navy, 15. So rare to see a promising maxi dress pattern, can't find any UK stockists though (I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to re-fashion this like a double layer nursing top), 16. Beautiful Liberty print in Tatum, scored very cheaply on Ebay a while back, to turn into the Sew U shirt.

On the off chance I'm able to make/lay my hands n half the things above, I reckon I'll be able to begin to look the word style in the face again.

The whole wardrobe makeover thing is, by the way, made infinitely less complex by this little collection:

For those not in the know, those are my colours. I got them done by a Colour Me Beautiful consultant a few years ago, and it instantly made fabric/clothes shopping so much easier. I know some people don't buy into it, but having been through the process, and then gone through my wardrobe weeding out the misfits afterwards, I can honestly say that 'my' colours look way better on me than any other shades (indeed, most of the clothes I knew I ought to like, but didn't, turned out to simply not be my colours). Sticking to this relatively limited palette also means that, at times when I actually own more than three items of clothing and two accessories, they all more or less co-ordinate.

I love the whole colours thing. I've even toyed with the idea of training as a consultant one day in the distant future when we can afford the training. I'm thinking a colour consultant-slash-dressmaker would be a pretty cool combination...

Anyway, we're off to Bluewater (aka shoppers' paradise) today, ostensibly to find Adam a suit for the wedding and to nail our wedding gift list (since, you know, we've actually sent out the invitations now), but I'm also hoping to spend a little time shopping for me. I'll let you know if there's anything to cross off that style checklist when we return.

It fits!, or, I nearly didn't post this

The reason these photos look so grimy is, it turns out, because my mirror is absolutely filthy.

Not that you can really see it, but I'm wearing the post natal tunic I finished just before giving birth, and I'm really rather pleased with it. I'm glad I decided to lower the neckline even more than the pattern called for, as it's super-easy to feed in, and I'm more or less alternating it with my one other (shop bought) tunic/shirt thing, as nothing else is easy to feed in (something of an essential with my marathon-feeding-baby) and fits comfortably.

Which brings us rather neatly onto why I nearly didn't post this. People, I am chubby (OK, fat). I was doing pretty well on the whole weight gain thing during my pregnancy, but the pelvis induced house arrest over the last few weeks of my pregnancy meant I somewhat packed it on (which shows, presumably, that I'm actually pretty active normally). On the whole, I like to keep this space for things that I (and hopefully you) actually want to look at (and I think it's safe to say that no one's enjoying perusing my  reflection in those shots, although the cute fluffy baby head redeems things slightly) and when I first took these pictures to prove that my shirt fit, my first instinct was to either delete them or hide them somewhere in the depths of my iMac. However, reading Christina's post the other day inspired me to put up an honest post natal picture, rather than avoiding any images of myself/mirrors/vaguely reflective surfaces until I look more socially acceptable.

In other, less flabby news, I'm really enjoying planning my summer wardrobe. Although that planning is mainly consisting of perusing fabrics and pattern choices at the moment, rather than actual sewing (I refuse to make myself an entire wardrobe in size ginormous). And I'm not the only one planning - I'm excited to see what Manda comes up with (based on most things she makes, it will probably be very stylish. And yes, it is her fault I own a full set of Lisette patterns). Other garment sewists I'll be stealing ideas from getting inspired by include Amanda, Florence (such a beautiful name!) and the uber-skilled Amy.

Oh, and if you're after inspiration for kids' spring/summer clothes, be sure to check out Elsie Marley. Meg has just announced Kids Clothes Week: Spring 2011. Last year's provided me with about a decade's worth of sewing ideas, and even resulted in a few extra handmade items for Teddy. Plus it will mean I get to spend time sewing without wasting time and fabric on clothes for me that I'll hopefully shrink out of fairly soon (oh-my-gosh-I-have-to-get-into-a-pretty-dress-and-get-married-in-under-15-weeks).