Played hooky yesterday and went shopping in Sherman. Some of it was the boring sort of shopping (new Clinique anti-perspirant; Kilz paint for a couple moldy bits on the garage, a chisel to try to remove the rotten board*)

But I also did some of the fun sort of shopping, and spent more money than I really should, considering I don't have a summer income.

I had one of those 40% off coupons for Jo-Ann's, which always seem like a shame to me not to use. Didn't see any quilt books I wanted, nor any knitting books, and they only have a bare selection of yarn. So I looked at the fabric and thought, "I could use a couple more plain solid colored skirts."

So I wound up buying a Vogue pattern (even at 50% off it was still $10 but as the other choice was the Simplicity patterns-for-people-who-hate-to-sew, I didn't mind) and a couple Burda patterns. The Vogue pattern is a flared skirt. I bought some dark brown denim for that (And am going to use the wrong side, as it's a much prettier brown than the right side). The two Burda patterns - one is for a lovely tulip-shaped skirt I'd like to make, but which I fear may have inadequate freedom in the knee area for walking. Because I don't like feeling hobbled, and I think it looks ridiculous for a woman of my size and at-least-imagined gravitas to be mincing around like a Barbie doll in one of her many evening gowns, I bought another, simpler pattern for just an a-line gored skirt.

And here's what I used my coupon on: 2 and 3/4 yards of a wine-colored moleskin fabric. Now, normally, I'm a natural-fiber person all the way. Hate polyester, hate anything that doesn't "breathe". But this fabric, it's just too lovely. It has a fine nap, kind of like Ultrasuede mated with velveteen. And it has a slight stretch. Perfect dressy-skirt fabric, and ideally fitted-skirt fabric. So I'm hopeful on the Burda trumpet shaped skirt. (Also, the fact that the Burda pattern has ALL SIZES on it - or at least all sizes from 8 to 28 - means I can fiddle a bit, cut the pattern big to start, and whittle down where I need to.)

I've fitted the pattern for the denim skirt but not cut it out yet. Fitting patterns and cutting the fabric are the least-fun parts of sewing.

I've never used a Burda pattern before; it will be interesting to see how it works up. I will say that the Burda catalog had far more interesting (read: fitted) styles than the "typical" fabric-store pattern books have.

I think part of my dissatisfaction with Simplicity and Butterick and McCall's lately is that they have mostly gone over to patterns that people who don't know how to (or don't want to) fit a pattern to themselves can make with success. The problem is, you wind up with fairly shapeless garments: A-line skirts with elastic waists, big-shirt type tops, granola-mommy denim jumpers. And although those things have their place, the reason I sew is so I can get something different, something that isn't like what you can buy in the stores. I like the challenge of setting in sleeves or doing darts, or even having to fit a pattern to work for me.

I also wonder if the trend towards very plain, dead-easy sewing pattern is reflective of the general instant-gratification mode our culture is in. (After all, a lot of patterns trumpet that they are a "Two-hour blouse!" or a "One-hour skirt!" [which I find hard to believe, as it can take me an hour simply to position the pattern optimally and cut the fabric out]). Sure, it looks just like what's being sold in all the chain stores, but hey, it was quick! So what if it fits badly, so what if it's like a tent on you? It was fast-n-E.Z.!

As I said, sure, these patterns have their place. I learned to sew my own blouses on one of those giant-shirt styles that was so popular in the late 80s. But it's frustrating to find nothing BUT that in the books, or nothing but that OR weird avant-garde designer things that some Big Famous Person stooped to do, all the while chuckling to themselves that they don't have to worry about seeing their precious design on the unfashionable hoi polloi, because asymmetry and colorblocking and peekaboo hems all in one design will NEVER play in Peoria... (Never mind that the design is actually so fugly that the good folks of Peoria look at it and say "Yup, what I said is true. Fashion designers hate women.")

Which is why I still like Vogue. Oh, they have their share of annoying things - there were more lowrider pants in the pattern catalog than I imagined there were possible permutations of - but at least they don't downgrade the intelligence of the sewing public by saying "Look! Here's a skirt pattern! Just two rectangles, a casing for elastic, and a hem! How E-Z!"

(*This trip resulted, in part, because, as it turns out, the previously-purchased reciprocating saw Will. Not. Work. for removal of the rotted portion of board. It is far too heavy and too powerful to be used while standing on a ladder. The kickback from it, as I tried to cut the first bit of board, almost knocked me off. And I am not a small or insubstantial or unusually-weak-in-the-upper-body sort of woman. I will say it scared the hell out of me - to be standing, alone, on a ladder, and realize that I very nearly fell seven feet onto a concrete driveway WITH an electrical saw that was running in my hand. Brr. So anyway. My new plan is to chisel out all the rotted wood, spray some Kilz paint in there to hopefully choke off any mold that might remain, and then use an expanding foam - like you use for insulating around electrical outlets - to fill the hole.

I hope that's not too "rednecky" of a solution, but short of hiring a carpenter - which I just don't want to do, for many different reasons, cost being the least of them - it's the only choice I have. I just hope that the foam will take paint OK.)