Learning to sew

I've always loved the idea of knowing how to sew. As a kid, I remember being very impressed that my mom had made that "cool" dress I pointed out in an old photo album.

I also remember watching in wonder as my Grandma constructed a tiny black velvet cape, with cranberry-colored lining, for my Samantha doll.

Even further back in my family history, sewing is prevalent. My great-grandfather, Urbano (or "Papanon" as my mom called him), was trained as a tailor in Italy. When he immigrated to the United States, he got a job working at Stackpoles men's store in Hartford, Connecticut. My mom still has a tuxedo he made for my grandfather.

Although I inherited a love of working with my hands from all sides of my family— I've done everything from ceramics to beading— I never really got around to sewing. So, a few months ago, my friend and I signed up for a garment construction class at New York's Fashion Institute.

Now, once a week, I leave work at 6pm and take the train over to FIT for 3 hours of threading needles, cutting fabric, and coaxing a sewing machine into submission. I have to say, sewing is a lot harder than you might think. When I first told my Grandmother about the class, she said, "I hope you have a lot of patience!" She wasn't kidding.

The class's first assignment was a skirt. To prepare, we learned how to sew all kinds of seams. Easy.

Next, we cut our skirt patterns out of oak tag. Armed with an Exacto knife and a ruler, my pattern was beyond precise. Then we cut our fabric. So far, so good . . .

Or so I thought. Despite the fact that I measured everything diligently, when I went to attach my waistband, the circumference of my skirt did not match the length of the waistband. Hmm . . .

See how there are two lines of stitching on the dart? That's because I had to get the skirt circumference to equal 27 inches. I borrowed a 1/2 inch from the darts to make everything match up.

Don't even get me started about the zipper.

Looks like notes for a Physics class, right?

All that note-taking didn't stop my waistband from being wider at one end . . . sigh . . .

Despite all the little mistakes along the way, I'm really enjoying the learning process. It's a lot about attention to detail, and definitely patience— two things it never hurts to have more of. In fact, I've already bought fabric for the next skirt I'm going to make.

I've also gained a deep appreciation for the clothing I already own.

You start to understand what goes into making a beautiful garment— from the pattern-making to the finishing. This Zac Posen skirt is a pencil skirt not unlike the one I made for class; but look at the detailing on the front, the notched waistband, the precision . . . I might never get to the point where I can make something of this quality. But I'll still know exactly why a piece like this makes people stop me in the hall at work and proclaim, "What a great skirt!"

(Sewing class photos © Littlehouse of Style)

What I wore to Sunday brunch.

During the work week, getting dressed in the morning is fairly simple. I look through my closet of black and white, pick a few things, and I have an outfit— White blouse, black sweater, tweed skirt. Black and white dress, cardigan, tights. Easy. If I'm feeling particularly lazy, I wear a dress.

Dresses are great because they're a self-contained outfit. All you have to do is add shoes. And because you're "dressed up" people think you put in all this extra effort, when the truth is, you didn't even attempt matching a top to slacks because you were half-asleep.

When it come to the weekend though, I always have trouble getting dressed. Why is it so difficult to dress casually? There has to be a middle ground between looking like you just rolled out of bed and looking like you're headed to a meeting.

Shoes are the first problem. 90% of my shoes have at least a 3 inch heel, so aren't exactly conducive to weekend activities like laundry and grocery shopping. But if I put on sneakers, I just feel dumpy. And short.

A few years ago, I bought a pair of cowboy boots while visiting my friend in California, and they have become a staple of my weekend wardrobe. They are one of the most comfortable pair of shoes I own, but don't look ugly like most comfortable shoes tend to (ahem, Uggs and Crocs). They also have a slight heel, so I don't feel like a total shrimp.

I also wear brown a lot on the weekend. It just seems like a casual color to me. Instead of my black patent leather bag, I like to carry something brown or tan with enough space to hold a magazine or two, in case I find a sunny spot to read. I picked up this chestnut leather tote on sale about a month ago, and it's a real workhorse. It actually expands at the top to be even bigger!

The jacket is one of my most favorite pieces. It's made by an Italian company called Kiton, known for their men's suits. (I got it at Filene's basement for a fraction of its original price). Even though it's fitted, it never feels uncomfortable— a perfect weekend piece because it looks nice and feels nice, too. The cashmere tweed is so soft you would think you're snuggled in bed— which is exactly where I would spend my entire weekend, if it weren't for the lure of brunch . . .

(Weekend-wear photos © Littlehouse of Style: Kiton jacket, Polo jeans, American Apparel t-shirt, Gap belt, Justin boots, Alexander McQueen bag)

Too beautiful for words.

A fresh face in Paris

On Friday, one of my friends emailed me a link to a show from Paris Fashion week. I'm not one to religiously watch all the new collections online. I usually watch my favorites and skim the rest. But I have to say, I watched this show several times through. And I'd never heard of the designer before.

The details were incredible. Leather dresses that gave the impression of smocking, translucent fabric, hard graphic stripes— I couldn't get enough. It was a fully realized collection. The same elements were woven expertly throughout the show; gathered leather with metallic studs appeared first on a dress, next on a skirt, then a jacket. It seemed like the work of an old pro.

But it wasn't. Well, I guess you could say it was the work of a young pro. Pedro Lourenço is 19 years old, although Elle.com points out "he's been a professional designer in Brazil since age 12."

I think most people starting out in the fashion world would be discouraged by hearing this. Although fashion is not as ageist as some professions— say gymnastics— it's always an advantage to have started your career in the womb.

However, I've accepted that my 12th year AND my 19th year are the distant past, and have vowed never to utter the words "but I'm too old to learn ______." I prefer the glass-is-half-full mindset. Which is why, having barely sewn a stitch in my life, I recently enrolled in a garment construction class at FIT. When I read about Lourenço, I couldn't help but think of my professor, who told us on the first day (in a thick Italian accent) that he had learned to sew at age 11. I guess if 11-year-old boys can learn to sew, so can I . . .

You can find a video of the show here.

(Pedro Lourenço runway photos from Style.com)

Red dress, roof access

On Saturday, I found out that I once again have roof access. For those of you who have never lived in New York, this means that instead of being locked off the huge amount of outdoor space on top of your building, you can access said space and sit outside. This would be equivalent to having 20 acres in the suburbs.

It also means you have a great big space where you can set up your tripod and take photos.

I got this cute French Connection dress on sale at Lord & Taylor a few weeks ago. My closet is a study in black and white, so this lipstick red dress was a little bit different for me. (Admittedly, I also tried on the dress in a quieter blue, but they didn't have my size).

I love tailored pieces, but it's not always easy to find ones that fit. This dress is a stretch cotton, so it hugs the body really nicely (and is comfortable, too).

I wonder if they have it in black . . .

(Rooftop photos@ Littlehouse of Style)

The Shoe Diet continues . . .

I have officially gone 2 months now without buying a pair of shoes. Not even flip flops.

I am pretty frugal most of the time— I cook instead of eating out, I take the subway instead of cabs, pay my bills on time, and I don't even have a TV— but when it comes to shoes, I can admittedly go a little crazy.

Hence, The Shoe Diet. It's a way to save money, yes, but it also is making me pay a little more attention to what I'm buying. Now, I have to ask myself, Is it worth breaking the fast for these? What about these? They're on sale, but do I HAVE to have them? Are they special enough?

One of the ways I have stuck to The Diet is by comparing a potential pair of new shoes to favorites in my closet. Do I love these as much as my Proenza Schoulers? No? Then I let them go. I'm not sure when The Diet will end, but I know that these are questions I will continue to ask myself every time I buy something.

The last pair of shoes I bought before my New Year's Resolution were these midnight blue Prada pumps. I had been dying for them to go on sale, and even when they finally dipped into my price range, I tried to resist. Then the salesman at Barney's told me they were an additional 33% off . . .

So, until I find another pair of shoes I've coveted for months at 75% off, I'm sticking to my guns.

(Pradas & Levis photograph © Littlehouse of Style)

Magical Rodarte

This past Saturday afternoon, I went uptown to the Cooper-Hewitt Museum to hear Laura Mulleavy speak. Laura, along with her sister, Kate, are the founders and head designers of Rodarte, and currently have a exhibit at the museum. The talk lasted over an hour. There was no PowerPoint presentation of Rodarte's clothing or videos of their runway shows. And from where I was sitting, I could only see a sliver of Laura’s face, because the stage was so low. Still, it was an absolutely fascinating talk.

Laura Mulleavy has a voice filled with wonder. She speaks deliberately, as if she is reading you a very important fairy tale. She uses the word "magical" a lot. Before Saturday, I had never heard a designer speak about their work. I knew Rodarte's complex knitwear and gorgeous weaving of textures, but nothing about Kate and Laura Mulleavy. I walked into that auditorium expecting stories of an apprenticeship at an atelier or long hours at FIT.

What I didn't expect was to hear a fashion designer list their biggest influences as Natural Wonders and ocean creatures. When asked about her inspirations, Laura said, "Kate and I have always been obsessed with the redwoods" and later spoke of how she loved the Monterey aquarium "because you'd see all these beautiful colors and delicate, delicate little animals, and they'd be like hot pink and white and they look like, I don't know, material that you couldn't describe to someone, I still can't . . ." I also was surprised to find out that they didn't always want to be fashion designers. Laura started college wanting to be a doctor and Kate studied Art History.

The way Laura talks about her childhood (“My dad was obsessed with lakes”), and even her life now, makes you want to coax her out for a cup of tea and a chat, and hope that she’ll invite you to one of her parties. (“We have a gingerbread competition every year”). She seems, like the best artists out there, to be interested in everything from sea creatures to literature.

After the talk, I wandered upstairs in the Cooper-Hewitt to see Rodarte’s work on display. It was breathtaking up-close. And suddenly, I could see how their collections were inspired by the National Parks and the vast wildness of the American West, or by a piece of insulation that had fallen off a truck on the freeway. Their work has an organic and uniquely personal quality, and you find yourself looking at it and thinking, "How did they get that vibrant color?" (they were inspired by flowers) and, "What is that made of?" (cheese cloth!) The work Laura and her sister do seems to come from a place that most designers doesn't. It's almost outsider art.

And I have to admit, after hearing the talk, I walked away with the impression that Rodarte’s initial 10-piece collection just appeared one day after the sisters graduated from college, and THEN appeared on the cover of Women’s Wear Daily shortly thereafter. There was lots of talk of inspiration, but very little of actual process or how it all really started. Of course, I'm sure it took millions of hours of work and education, but I prefer to think of it as a fairy tale, where two sisters from California suddenly realize they have the magical power to spin straw into gold.

(Many people have recently learned of Rodarte because Laura and Kate just did a line for Target. But if you aren't familiar with their runway collections, and live in New York, I highly recommend a trip to the Cooper-Hewitt to see their work on display through March 14th).

(All Rodarte photos © Littlehouse of Style)