Ballet top with built-in bra and covered cups

When it comes to clothing, I’m a huge fan of form meeting function. It might be my protestant roots, or pure pragmatism, but I want my clothes to work for me. Perhaps this is why I’ve so enjoyed reading about  Coco Chanel, Madeleine Vionnet,  and Claire McCardell in  Secrets of the Couturiers, by Frances Kennett. While their male contemporaries, like  Balenciaga and Dior, made extremely tailored dresses that fit their ideal of female beauty (which I do, indeed, find beautiful), these three women designers made comfortable and beautiful clothes that solved real womens’ problems*.

The shirts and maillots I’ve been making with built-in bras came from a similar, practical need: I want to wear low-backed shirts without tacky bra straps. It’s been exciting to see that many other home sewers  like this idea, and in many cases have perhaps already thought of this but have yet to try it. The great thing about sewing blogs is the constant exchange of information and ideas on how to make patterns or techniques better. And I’ve gotten a few great ideas on my built-in bra technique from some of you this past week.

Amy posted about a beautiful unitard she created using my tutorials on drafting a unitard and sewing in a built-in bra with cups. One of the hiccups she found was that her bra cups showed through her unitard. I had a similar issue when making a ballet top out of a thin black rayon jersey:

Cups showing through:(

Meanwhile, Lavender asked whether I ever line my cups with something soft to make the scratchy/cheap feeling cups more comfortable (which, until this weekend I hadn’t even thought of doing!).

I realized that lining the cups, on the outside and inside, could address both issues that Lavender and Amy brought up. So I tried it out:

Cups lined in the same jersey fabric as bra

After experimenting with lining the cups, I tried covering the outside of the cups on my black ballet top. I used the same fabric as the shirt, and the cups are no longer visible (as you can see from the top picture of this post). This technique would, of course,  only work on a solid colored fabric (probably wouldn’t work well with stripes, like Amy’s unitard), but I think it’s a good fix if you find you want to make one of these shirts with a solid jersey that is a little thin/see through.

Here’s how I lined the cups:

Step 1: Flip cup inside out

Step 2: Lay fabric RIGHT SIDE UP over the cup and tack

After laying fabric over the cup, use thread and needle to tack the fabric to the high point (a.k.a. nipple point!) of the cup. This will keep the fabric from slipping, and the tack will also serve as the end point of the dart.

*Note: Laying the fabric right side up is particularly important if your bra cup is asymmetrical.

Step 3: Pin fabric to cup and make dart

As you pin, make sure the fabric is laying very smoothly over the cup, without stretching the fabric. I like to start at the top edge of the cup, then work my way halfway down each side of the bottom of the cup. As you pin, you’ll have excess fabric that needs to be taken up in a dart. Gather the excess fabric from the center tack, working toward the edge of the cup. Pin the dart together and pin around the rest of the bottom of the cup. Your dart should be at a slight angle.

Step 4: Trace dart with chalk and cut away excess fabric

Trace over the pins you’ve used to close the dart. This will provide guide marks when you sew the dart on the wrong side of the fabric.

*Note: Making a dart on the right side of the fabric, then sewing it on the wrong side, will ensure the dart is positioned correctly when you sew it back to the cup.

Step 5: Unpin fabric from cup and sew dart

When you lay the fabric on a flat surface,  right side up, you should see a triangle drawn in chalk where your dart will be sewn. Flip the fabric wrong side up, and use the center tack and the chalk marks at the edge of the fabric as guides for the dart. Pin the dart closed and sew from the outer edge (the “start points”) to the center tack (the “end point”).

*Note: When sewing the dart, I use a medium stitch length (2 on my machine) and decrease the stitch length 1/2 inch from the end point, and sew directly off the edge of the fabric. (Instead of stopping a few centimeters from the end point and tying off the thread.)

Step 6: Press the dart

I like to press my dart over a tailor’s ham to press the curve in the cup. If you don’t have a ham, you could probably use a rolled/folded towel.

Step 7: Baste fabric to inside of cup and sew

Flip the cup so the inside is concave again. Tack the end of the dart to the center point of the cup, to keep the fabric from slipping. Pin the edges of the fabric to the cup, smoothing the fabric as you go (if you try to do this step while the inside of the cup is still flipped out, you’ll get weird ripping action inside the cup when you flip it). Baste the fabric to the cup with long hand-sewn stitches. Basting will keep the fabric from sliding much better than just pins as you machine sew the fabric to the cups.

Finally, machine sew the fabric to the edge of the cup using a small straight stitch (you don’t really need a stretch stitch, since the cups don’t stretch). Remove basting stitches and cut away any excess fabric that’s hanging over the edges of the cup.

Cups lined in charmeuse and jersey knit

When I tried this with silk charmeuse, I did it on the bias, so I’d have more give in the fabric.  To cover the outside of a cup, you can use the exact same technique, but  you won’t need to flip the cup inside out in step 1 or right side out in step 7.

If anyone tries this, I’d love to hear how it works. And if you have an alternate technique, I’d love to hear about that too!

Yesterday, I received a sewing book I’d ordered after seeing it listed as a reference on Colletterie. Imagine my surprise as I flipped from the front to the back cover of Secrets of the Couturiers:

How can so much dorky and awesome live on the same dust flap? The front and back covers not only inhabit different decades, but perhaps alternate universes. For the record, I’ll live on whatever planet that bird-breasted Balenciaga dress, on the right, came from.

Beyond the flash-dance illustrations, the book includes  great biographical information about different iconic designers and their techniques, as well as some beautiful fashion photography. I was particularly happy to find designers in this book that are new to me, including Claire McCardell, who made fantastically modern dresses in the 1930′s, 40′s, and 50′s. I would totally wear this dress today:

Claire McCardell dress, Summer 1949

The book covers a wide swath of construction and finishing techniques that I’m excited to try out, from designing with patterned fabrics to using pleats and gathers.

And, of course, there are the 14 pages of sweet, sweet 80′s illos in the back. Who wouldn’t want to party with this lady:

When I showed that pic to Mr. Fish, he simply said “crazy.” Indeed. Crazy dorky awesome.

How-Do-You-Do-Bardot Maillot (left), Bubblegum Top (right)

For the past year, I’ve been sewing built-in shelf bras, with cups, into maillots (unitards), t-shirts, and tank tops. My original inspiration for this came from several vintage garments—a dress and bathing suit—that I wear regularly, which have built in bras. For me, there are several advantages to building a bra into a garment. I like to design shirts with dramatic, low back lines that would usually show a traditional bra.

Built in bras also just happen to be comfortable.  And in contrasts to the simple shelf bras in sports tops, adding cups to a shelf bra also provides a pleasing silhouette (no tube boob!).

A few other bloggers have asked me to share my technique. I can’t say that it’s the prettiest or most sophisticated. I’m sure that some of you out there with lingerie sewing experience could add a few pointers on materials and techniques.

What I can say is that this tutorial is relatively easy, and you can do it on a home machine. My tank top pattern happens to be self-drafted, form-fitting, and  low-backed.  If you were to do this technique with a looser tank, you’d just need to make the bra section tighter/more form fitting. I sew most of my seams with a serger, but you can easily sew a stretchy tank on a regular machine using a stretch stitch.

Here’s how I do it:

Tools

I like to use a soft cotton-lycra blend knit (it won’t pill like rayon or bamboo knit), 1 inch wide elastic, and sew-in bra cups. Make sure the bra cups are your appropriate cup size and that you like the shape they give you. Slightly padded cups will keep your girls from “tuning in Tokyo.” I buy cups in the garment district, where there are lots of different shapes to choose from. If your resources are more limited,  Dritz makes cups sold at JoAnn’s.

The elastic should feel comfortable against your skin. I like to cut everything out on a cutting mat with a rotary cutter and sharp scissors (but of course!). For my pattern, I drafted a simple sloper based off of my maillot pattern.

When cutting out striped jersey on the fold, I line up my stripes and pin them before cutting out my pattern. This will ensure the stripes on the shirt are indeed horizontal, and not listing to one side or the other.

Step 1: Cut the pattern pieces

Cut out your front and back pattern pieces (3, 4). For the bra pieces (1, 2), I use the same tank top pattern, but just use the top third portion. Measure from your shoulder to under your chest (or to where you want the bra to hit) to gauge how long to cut the bra pieces.

Note: I generally use the same jersey fabric as the shirt for my built-in bras. This results in a very soft, cami like bra that stretches exactly like the tank top. When the fabric stretches, the bra usually ends up hitting me around the lower rib cage. If you want the bra to hit you right under the boobs, adjust for length. For more support, you could use polyester swimsuit lining or another lining fabric with more structure (or even wicking abilities….Maddie of Madalynne has some good info on this for sports bras).

Step 2: Position the cups

Hold the front bra piece up to your chest, stretching it across your chest as if it were sewn to the back piece. Take note of where your girls land on the front piece; this is where you’ll want to position your bra cups. (I realize that’s not very scientific!)

Lay your front bra piece on a flat surface, wrong side up. Position your bra cups on the front bra piece. Make sure the bra cups are positioned so that they’ll nicely fit your boobs once you have the bra on. I always hold the cups up to my girls  to get the right angle, and then mimic that placement on the front bra piece. Generally, I place the top of my bra cups about 1 inch below the neckline; the center of the cups generally fall about 2 inches below the V of the neckline. I place the cups 1/2 to 1 inch apart. (I use a B to C size cup.)

Experiment with the placement of the cups and pin them in place. At this point, you can again hold the bra front to yourself to see if the cups are close to where they need to be. Just remember that the cups will stretch away from each other, once sewn in, so it’s sometimes better to have them closer together (so you don’t end up with bra cups on the side of your body!).

Step 3: Sew the cups

Sew the cups onto the front bra piece, just around the edge of the cups. If you’re not sure about placement, baste them on with a long straight stitch, and then hold the bra piece to your chest again to make sure the cups are falling in the right spot. Sew the cups on with a stretch stitch. And don’t be afraid to cop a feel on the cups! It’s the easiest way to rotate the pattern piece as you sew.

When you’re finished sewing the cups, your pattern piece should look like the above.

Step 4: Cut away the excess fabric

Cut away the fabric that’s covering the inside of the bra cups. I like to snip a section toward the middle of the cup and cut away from there.

Step 5: Sew your bodice and bra pieces 

Right sides facing, sew your front and back bodice pieces together, and your front and back bra pieces together. At this point, it’s a good idea to slip on the bra to see if it feels like it will fit snuggly (keeping in mind that you’re still going to attach an elastic band around the bottom).

Step 6: Attach the elastic band

Wrap the elastic around your ribcage, just below your breasts, stretching it slightly, so that it feels snug but comfortable. Cut the elastic to this length. Butt the ends of the elastic and use a zigzag stitch to secure them.

Divide the elastic into fourths and mark with pins. Divide the bottom of the bra into fourths and mark with pins. Pin the right side of the elastic band to the wrong side of the bottom edge of the bra (at the four pin marks). Using a stretch stitch or zigzag, sew the bottom edge of the elastic band to the bottom edge of the bra, stretching the elastic between the four marks. Fold the top edge of the elastic to the right side of the bra, so the elastic band lays flat. If the band doesn’t lay flat, use a hot iron to press the fold where the band and bra meet. Sew the top edge of the elastic band to the bra.

*Note: This explanation for sewing on the band is a little simplistic. You may already have a preferred method for finishing the band in a more professional way. Just note that sewing the top and bottom edges of the elastic to the bra will make the bra more secure. You might also want to try the bra on at this point to make sure it fits the way you want it to. If it’s not tight enough, and you feel you won’t have enough support, take in the side or shoulder seams to tighten everything up.

Step 7: Pin bra to tank

With the tank top inside out, and the bra right side out, slip the bra over the tank top. Line up the shoulder seams of the bra and tank and pin in place. Line up the under arm seams of the bra and tank and pin in place.

Step 8: Baste bra to tank

Baste the neckline and arm holes of the bra and tank together. This will keep the tank and bra from slipping apart as you finish the neckline and arm holes.

Step 9: Finish the neckline, arm holes, and hem

I like to finish all edges with folded strips of fabric. I find this gives the cleanest look that I can achieve on my home sewing machine and serger. For this tank top, I cut the bands so that one white strip runs down the center of the band. Once the band is folded in half, there’s just a thin peep of white at the top edge of the band.

For more information on finishing edges with fabric bands, check out this great Threads tutorial video on a neckline binding. The same technique can be used for finishing the arm holes.

Step 10: Wear with attitude!

For a bread-and-buttered Northwestern girl, such as myself, the perfect spring days we’re having in New York are like a cruel, delicate flower: they smell glorious and are way too good to last. The heat, my friends, is coming. In preparation, I’ve been sewing summer tanks (with built in shelf bras with cups!), like the striped one pictured up top.

For those of you also prepping for The Hot, I’ll be sharing a tutorial in the next day or two on how to make one of these shelf bras. In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to brush up on your bubble blowing skills. Now days, there’s a tutorial for everything.

Every once in a while, I sew something that I think is totally a-mazing while strutting in my apartment, but that proves completely inappropriate when taking it to the street (you know it Michael McDonald!). Usually these mishaps involve raveling seams or circle skirts blowing up around my face in a wind storm, but this week it came down to the fit—or the too tight fit—of this blue-and-gray jersey “wiggle” dress I made over the weekend.

On Tuesday I was wearing this dress, thinking it was the raddest cruise ship party frock ever, when I realized I needed to go to the copy shop up my street. Not 20 feet from my door, a man on his bike whistled and mumbled something about me “lookin’ real good.”  Suddenly, I felt the jersey clinging to my thighs and stomach in the ugliest way imaginable. Funny how one person’s compliment is another’s insult.

You talkin’ to me?

Regardless, I continued up the street, pulling at the skirt so it wouldn’t cling so tightly, vowing to Pillatesize myself body armor that doesn’t jiggle, when I heard a teenage boy calling from two stories above me:

Boy: Wow! Check that! She got a MAD badonkadonk!

My heart quickened with more dread, but when I looked up, the boy was leaning out his window, gawking much farther down the street, and I realized there was no possible way he could be talking about me, because I do not own a badonkadonk. I own a badinkadink—a.k.a. a white girl’s ass.

In case there’s any confusion:

I scurried on to the copy shop, then home to hide. I may wait to wear this dress until said  Pillatesizing has occurred,  or until the weather warms up and the rest of the city dwellers are wearing their skimpies too.

I will admit, however, that I’m super proud of how I finished the neckline on this dress. I used the same technique as for my chevron tank, with fabric bands around the neckline and arms. For the pattern, I simply elongated my maillot pattern into a dress.

Speaking of booties, have you seen Ohhh Lulu’s high-waisted pinup panty pattern?

I found her through Threadsquare’s Etsy circles (I’m stalking you Lavender!), and Lulu is doing a sew along and pattern giveaway, which you can sign up for until tomorrow. I think these panties would look fabulous whether you own a badonkadonk, badinkadink, or anything in between.

Last summer, I spent a few weeks making (and singing the praises of) maillots—a.k.a. unitards. Ballet and modern dance classes were a huge part of my adolescence, and my maillots remind me of the comfy ballet unitards I wore back then. Of all the garments I’ve sewn over the past year, I think my maillots have gotten the most wear. This chevron tank top—which is really just a muslin/test garment—is the next evolutionary step of my maillot pattern.

Like my maillots, this tank top has a built-in shelf bra.  For me, a one-stop bra and shirt is the ideal summer garment: super comfy and easy to wear. I usually like to sew cups into my shelf bras, for more shape and support (and to avoid the dreaded “tube boob”). Unfortunately, I was all out of cups for this tank, so it has more of a sports bra look to it (which I will remedy with some cups on my next version).

When I was sewing the tank, some annoying rippling happened  where I sewed the neckline of the shirt and shelf bra together. My regular machine isn’t so hot on sewing jersey, and I’ve yet to find a double needle that will leave clean rows of top stitches. Generally I just sew two rows of top stitches with a regular needle. This time, though, the feed dogs pulled too hard, stretching the fabric, and I got gaping at the neckline.

Lately, I’ve been trying to push myself to finish garments in a clean way, with really good fit, so that I’ll actually wear them.  I tore through a lot of sewing projects last summer that have stayed hidden in my closet because of bad fit or shoddy workmanship. I was learning, so it goes with the territory. But I feel like continuing down that path, at this point, is a little too fast fashion-y and antithetical to why I want to make clothes for myself—i.e. wearing quality garments that are made just for my body, and that express my personal style. So I’m trying to take things more slowly (take more care), and pay attention to details. That meant I needed to fix the gaping issue on  my tank.

I’d already finished the tank’s arms and hem with simple bands , so I decided to try this around the neckline. It took me some time to figure out how to make the mitered corner on the V neck  (I spent a good hour staring at the guts of my husband’s store-bought V-neck T’s). I also found this Threads video on a neckline binding for knits SUPER helpful . The trick to getting a nice binding that hugs the body (and doesn’t gape) is to stretch the binding along the curved edges of the neckline. This technique would have prevented my armscyes from gaping, as well (domage! I’m not tearing those suckers apart now!).

Now I’m excited to try a version of this shirt with a lower, more dramatic back line. I also want to experiment with making some fancier versions (maybe with cut-outs of sparkly spandex? Similar to my Sparkledex Maillot).

If you’re interested in drafting your own version of a maillot (or a tank) based on my pattern, check out my brief tutorial.

Dumpster diving in Crown Heights.

Happy April Fools’ Day!

A couple weeks ago, my boss pulled me aside and told me she thought I was doing a great job, but that she wanted me to slow down and pay more attention to details. At first, I was totally offended. I’m a hard worker, a decent multitasker, and have always prided myself on getting s%$# done.  ”Doesn’t she know how awesome I am?!” I fumed to Mr. Fish when I got home.  After the required spousal sympathy period (10 minutes), my dear, wise husband said that maybe all my new boss was trying to say was that she wanted me to take more care.

Since then, “take more care” has been our facetious motto anytime one of us (me) breaks or spills something in the kitchen. In truth, it’s a motto I should live by. I have a tendency to plow through my daily checklist of work, domestic tasks, and other projects, when a lighter touch and more mental focus would help me complete everything in a better way. I need to be more of a tortoise than a hare (and probably need to take more yoga!).

This linen frock I recently finished for my niece, C., has been a great way to practice this philosophy. Although I’ve had limited time to sew lately, I’ve been trying to pay more attention to details and not let the clock, or passing days, bully me into doing a slipshod job.

Since this dress will likely be worn by C. and her younger sister L. in a few years,  I made an effort to finish all of the edges very cleanly, either with my serger or bias tape, so that it can take multiple washings (the fanciful flowers may not make it, but I couldn’t resist! Sister Fish can take them off when she needs to…or use them to cover up the inevitable stains to come).

I chose the coral linen for this dress as a nod to all of the orange, red, and pink tones I’ve seen women wearing in Manhattan and Brooklyn this season. As I mentioned in my last post, I wanted to create some frocks for C. that are girly but also fashion forward. I was also hugely inspired by the dresses from Simplicity Couture, particularly this one.

Now C. will have two new dresses to choose from.

Oddly enough, after I’d picked out the fabric for these dresses, I noticed a similarity between them and the illustration on the pattern I’ve decided to use for Susan Khalje’s “Couture Dress Class” I’m taking through Craftsy. The course comes with a new Vogue pattern, but I don’t really like the cut or general look of that dress. So I’ve decided to try out Khalje’s techniques with this 1960′s pattern I scored from Marina of Frabjous Couture at the Sew Weekly meetup last fall (thank you again, Marina!!).

As part of my “take more care” mandate, I’m trying to restrict myself from from sewing anything new until I’ve completed Khalje’s class. It’s an exercise in discipline, as I’ve got sewing fever and want to make a dozen things this week! But I guess discipline and taking more care are two ways of saying the same thing.

Something magical happened to me about five years ago. I was enjoying a sunny August morning in Seattle when my sister and her husband arrived home with their first baby. He was three hours old when my sister lowered him into my arms, and even though I’d held newborns before, I was afraid to breath too loudly, or even move, lest I hurt this curled bundle of bliss. While my sister and brother-in-law started figuring out the ins and outs of parenthood, the full realization hit me that I’d become an aunt.

Of course, my first reaction was a sort of mind explosion that this kid was so biologically close to me. But after getting over that, I had one primary concern: would I be a cool aunt? Would this kid—and the four more munchkins my sister has had in the intervening years—give me the official Best Aunt Ever Award? I think once you gain this status, you get to keep it for life.

There are many things one must do to achieve cool aunt or uncle status, but (shallow or not) one of the biggest is giving gifts. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been geeking out so hard on a couple of dresses for my niece, C. At 2 1/2, little Ms. C is starting to appreciate the finer things, such as girly frocks, sunglasses, cell phones, and purses. Recently, my sister told me that C has been loving a few skirts I made her last fall, and would welcome more duds. At first, I thought I’d just dig into my stash and make her something. But then I stumbled upon Simplicity Couture, a totally amazing Etsy kids dress shop, and I realized to achieve true coolness status, I needed to up the ante. I wanted to make something C could wear to a SoHo play date and be the coolest kid on the block. (Nevermind that she lives in Bellevue, Washington!)

I used a vintage kids blouse pattern I picked up in Idaho last year, and hunted down fabric that’s girly, but not too girly (’cause, you know, that’s not cool). The first version I’ve come up with is a little casual, checkered Jackie-O number with mismatched red  buttons dug from a bargain bin.

I edged the neck, sleeves, and hem in bias tape from the same fabric. I used the bias tape tutorial from The Colette Sewing Handbook (which totally blew my mind! Sarai’s method for making tape with one square of fabric cuts time and waisted fabric).

To get the true couture into this, I used a Christian Dior button.

I half fear this dress might not fit Ms. C’s personal sense of style (which, right now, includes sparkly mary janes, flowered sunglasses, and lots of PB&J all over her face). But hopefully she’ll grow into it, just as I will hopefully grow out of caring what toddlers think of me.

When it comes to upcycling clothing, my philosophy is that you have to become your own shamen. I’m not suggesting a payote-fueled “desert journey” every time you score a good thrift find (although that does sound interesting). All  I’m  saying  is I think you have listen to what the  clothing tells you it wants to be.

This Liz Claiborne dress, which I found thrifting last fall, was telling me (very loudly) that she wanted to be less frumpy. When I first tried her on, the crazy-awesome color and print, along with the fitted waistline, skirt, and pleated shoulders felt vintage-y in a good/modern way. But inside, Lizzy was screaming for a sexier neckline and shorter, less restrictive sleeves.

The dress had good bones, so I wanted to work with what was already there. I pinned the neckline and sleeves different ways, and finally decided the nicest look was also the simplest to do. I cut a simple V-neck that extended from the dress’s shoulder line, which didn’t interfere with the shoulder pleats. Then I cut a good three inches from the sleeves.

For the new sleeves, I wanted a very clean, professional looking edge. At first I thought I’d make new facings for the sleeves, but after lopping off the parts I didn’t want, I realized I had just enough fabric in those lopped off parts to make a thin bias tape.  It was a little tedious to do, since I had to sew a bunch of very short pieces together, but I like the finished result. Technically, I think this would be called grafting.

The neckline already had a nice facing, so I decided to use it to my advantage. I cut the neckline into a V, then sewed red polka-dot bias tape (I just happened to have some from my grandma’s sewing stash) to the raw edge, then folded the bias tape under and sewed the other edge to the  facing. Essentially, the bias tape serves as a bridge between the new neckline and the old facing. I like how there’s no visible stitching on the outside of the dress, but there’s a peep of complementing pattern on the inside.

Now that I’ve spilled the beans on my Obi Wan Kenobi style of upcycling, I’m curious about how and why other people alter clothes. How do you choose which garments are worthy of alteration? And how do you decide what elements to change?