more on the trouser saga

Another handmade pair for the boy, a recon no less, and I didn't even lift a finger. The Man brought home a frankly skidly pair of striped jeans from The Free Store (where things are, you got it, free!) The denim was worn in places, stained across the thighs and butt, and just not pretty. They were jeans destined for the landfill. The Man, the soft hearted guy he is, brought them home thinking that we could get a pair of toddler trousers out of them, at least. I, looking at the stained and worn jeans, deciding I want nothing to do with them, said, 'go for it, man.' So he did.


And they're lovely! He even made pockets.

For the record, The Man showed me how to use a sewing machine just a few years ago, a machine we borrowed from his grandma to do some curtain mending. I had him basically hold my hand through my first few projects, to prevent me from damaging either myself or the sewing machine in frustration. I am eternally grateful that he shared with me his skills, though he claims he really didn't do anything. He did though. Besides knowing how to load the actual bobbin the actual machine, he was calm and supportive, and didn't smirk once, even when I said really naughty words with every breath I took while trying doing my first jeans to skirt recon. He even threaded my serger for me the first few times when the threads were going all wonky from a factory setting error (thank goodness for serger classes and the smart instructor with her little screw driver to reset the machine for me.) On the topic of machines, The Man has actually bought and surprised me with all three of my sewing machines to date because I wouldn't buy them for myself - something about not wanting to spend the money on my little hobby and 'making do' with what I have.

So, The Man does know a bit about sewing; taught to him by his paternal grandma, a fine lady who generously lent me a machine and gave me a few lessons also. Bless the skilled grandmas. At some point awhile back I took my sewing a bit further than dabbling. The Man says that he knew that I was truly in my element when I was talking to him and threading the machine and never once looked at the machine, even when putting the thread through the needle. A bit of an exaggeration, but I get the point. And now those machines are our only family income and The Man is learning my patterns. I came home today with the kids after Smootch's dance class and The Man had my dashiki tutorial open on the computer, along with the pattern I had made, and was just finishing up the neckline. I'm so very excited! Not only will I have a real, in the flesh, sewing buddy (and competitor for machine time), but with both of us stitching we will be able to build up a product base and take our stuff out to the markets. Vancouver Island is just chock full of farmers and craft markets, a scene I love to both shop and vend at, and we're hoping to be ready for the spring season.

Now that I've talked your ear (eye?) off, I'll get on with actually putting together a tutorial for y'all. One gem from taking photos of the stripey trousers. Not exactly crafty, but I suppose you could call it a creative interptation of a smile, which is exactly what he thinks he's doing for the camera:

Back soon!