FO: Magnolia Jacket

Here in the Pacific Northwest, we are ruled by forces of water: tidal, meteorological, glacial.

They create a sense of intimacy with our surroundings: a tree in the rain is not just a tree, but shelter; a fire in the damp is not just a fire, but safety.



They remind us of the youth of our geography: our rocky beaches and jagged peaks, carved by the methodical hands of ice and time.

They tell us of the pull of things: that the forces that draw water towards us and away are constant, unchanging, endless.




There is a feeling to all of this, a sense of balance and rightness and repetition. By this definition, there is nothing new on this earth, and there is a measure of comfort in that knowledge: the rain will come down, and the tide will turn, and water will shape the land, each without regard for anything but its own purpose.

And yet, there are small things that locate us in the landscape of this greater design: the wonder of finding something old or somehow familiar, that falls into the grain of your life and grows into something you've never experienced before. A quiet magic in everyday things.

A pair of boots, a favorite coffee cup, a blanket. A stone. A rainy day.

A jacket.

  

Details
Photography: Melody Hirsch
Jacket: Magnolia Jacket, by Cory Ellen Boberg
Dress: Vintage Hal Ferman dress, from the amazing Trove Vintage Boutique
Socks: Waving Lace Socks by Evelyn Clark
 Boots: Fluevog Adriana Nuni

Tailored Jacket: Closer & Closer

   

Last week was positively full of jackets: on Wednesday, I worked on my jacket with my tailoring teacher, and Thursday, Sparklepants and I went on our photoshoot adventure. With the days so short, it's hard to get photographs before the light fades, but today I finally managed to snap some photos of my jacket progress.

I was under the silly impression that I might finish last week, but even though I didn't, I got a lot done: I started setting in the lining, sewed on the facings, and finished up some details on the contrast collar and lapel. Whew!

Now that the collar is almost done, it's really rewarding to see it all coming together. It's starting to look like a real jacket! And although there are things I would do differently on my next tailored jacket - making the sleeves an inch or two longer, for starters - there are lots of things that I'm really proud of with this piece.

And with a little luck and a lot of work, it should be done sometime in the next month or so!

Happy Monday.
<3
Cory

Tailored Jacket: A Body, Constructed

  

Today, I spent the day at my tailoring teacher's house, reconnecting with my love of wool. (As if it ever really left!)

And, to my surprise, I got a pretty astonishing amount done. In five hours, I finished building the pocket; interfaced the shoulder and lapel; connected the shoulders and side seams; built the sleeve; built the collar; set in the collar; pressed up and sewed the mitered sleeve cuffs. (It makes me tired but proud just looking at that list written out.)

This morning, I had a bunch of pieces of wool pinned to a hanger; tonight, I have a jacket that - though unfinished - I can put on my body.

So much further to go, but so much progress nonetheless!

On Mentorship

 

The rain has come in for the fall. Yesterday I spent the afternoon sewing together my jacket lining, marking seams with white chalk and easing charmeuse into itself. Next week I go in for another private class with my tailoring teacher, and I'm preparing what I can before then.

Lately I've sensed a sea change in my creative life. Graduation is close and I have a backlog of design ideas; at the same time, I'm feeling a pull to words that I haven't felt in a long, long time.

In another life, I had a daily notebook and would go on frantic two-day long binges, writing short stories. I had an English teacher from my community college who became my unofficial mentor after I started dropping off short stories in his office for critique, months after my creative writing class had ended. I still find myself writing a sentence and wondering what he'd think of it.

It also makes me think about mentorship in general; although it's common among young creatives to have a mentor in their craft, some of the sparkle of mentorship seems to fade once we've crossed the threshold into adulthood. Yet, it seems that encouragement of growth and reflection is such a positive force for any creative person - or really, any person, in any field - that it seems a shame to leave it behind just because we're no longer young or in school.

It's part of why I like to tell all of my knitting students that I believe in them, as cheesy as it is - because anyone, of any age or skill level, can benefit from knowing that someone is on their side. Because it can, and does, make all the difference.

Tailored Jacket: Building the Front

Houston, we have fronts! On Monday, I went out to my tailoring teacher's house to work on my jacket. I was there for about five hours, and in that time, I pressed everything, put together the back of the jacket, and built the front of the jacket, including in-seam pockets with a contrast flap.

The process was slow, but really wonderful and precise, thanks to my teacher's patient guidance and amazing iron. I had always heard about how pliable wool is for tailoring, but I had never experienced it with the level of iron that I had been working with. Spitting and inconsistent steam are a constant problem with most irons I've worked with - that, and for some reason, I'm totally allergic to the concept of using a press cloth. I hate how little control and visibility they add to the equation, so I weasel out of using one whenever possible. I always thought that meant I'm just a bad, lazy sewist.

So imagine my delight when I pressed my first seam open with my teacher's iron - no press cloth required because of the coating on the soleplate, hallelujah - and the ripply, thick seam gently opened and flattened with a generous burst of steam and a little bit of elbow grease. Seriously, it was magic.

Her iron had a detached boiler, maintained a consistent temperature, and let out concentrated gusts of steam by pushing a big orange button on the side of the iron. (It was also heavy: by the end of the day, my wrists were definitely aching.) Between pressing and physically whacking thick areas with a clapper, my seams ended up practically melting together on the front of the jacket. Like buttah.

I already knew I liked tailoring from taking the techniques class, even with boring cotton muslin - but this was a whole different (complex, exacting, wooly, crisp) story. And I think I'm in love.

Happy Wednesday!

<3

Cory

Tailored Jacket: Little Pieces into Bigger Pieces

For me, construction always happens in a funny sort of time warp. No matter your best laid plans and fondest wishes, the garment will act like a petulant toddler during certain tasks that should be easy.

(Sewing darts?? Really?? I thought we had this one down, jacket friend.)

And, equally perplexing, things that are obnoxious in other materials will sail along happily, nary a problem in sight.

(Easing cotton into cotton? I want to eat tacks. Easing wool into more wool? Um, literally the best.)

But before I could even begin the time vortex of construction, I had to fuse interfacing onto most of my jacket pieces. I'm interfacing the entire front of the jacket, all of the facings, and the neckline and armhole of the back bodice, so that was a lot of fusing! The interfacing gives a surprising amount of structure and thickness to the body of the jacket, which led me to my next adventure...

  

The aforementioned dart problem! I was finding that the bulkiness of the interfaced fabric was interfering with pinning and sewing the darts in, so I ended up getting some topstitching thread and hand-basting the darts in to prevent the fabric from shifting underneath the machine. It didn't take very long, and it flattened out a lot of the bulk and made all of my darts sew in perfectly. Awwww yeah.

Also note the ridiculous pattern matching I did when I cut the undercollar. I had forgotten about it until today, when I went to fuse the pieces and was pleasantly surprised - they're both cut on the bias, but I arranged and cut them separately so that they're exact mirrors of each other. High five, past self!

And this is what I ended up with: two bodice fronts, two front peplums, a back peplum, and a bodice back. I'm going to be doing a full day of jacket with our tailoring teacher on Monday, so I'm trying to get as much done as possible before then. I'm hoping to get a bit of my lining constructed this weekend too, but we'll see how that goes.

As for that vortex: I thought I was going to get everything cut out and fused, and the darts, tucks, and princess lines sewn - all in about five hours or so. Instead, it's been about 10 hours of work over two different days. Hah! Hah! Time flies when you're deeply out of touch with reality!

Happy Friday! <3

Cory

Tailored Jacket: The First Cuts

  

A few months ago, this was the state of my tailored jacket: one finalized muslin; four yards of gorgeous black & white wool herringbone; a yard of squishy black wool twill; four yards of hot pink silk charmeuse. When I decided to put my jacket on hold for ballgown, I tucked it all away for safekeeping - but not before cutting the herringbone and contrast wool for the outside of the jacket.



This morning, this little pile was all that existed of my jacket. I had the forethought to mark the wrong side of the fabric with pins on every single piece, which was a great plan since this fabric is nearly identical on both sides.

(So identical, in fact, that it may not matter which side is which - but I always try to stay consistent when cutting, just in case there's a weird nap or slightly different halo to one side that is invisible until you sew the thing up and the part over your left boob is obviously a different color than every other piece and it makes you want to sob quietly while shoving chocolate cookies into your face.)

   

So this afternoon, I pressed and smoothed and pinned my interfacing and charmeuse lining, and then I cut out the whole shebang. I even did it in my old ballgown room, which was a little bittersweet. It felt really good to get back to my big projects, and it also felt like visiting an old friend - hello, ceiling stain! Hello, spot where I laid down on the floor and cried the day I felt pukey! Sigh.

Anyhow, now all the pieces are cut and ready to be put together! Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Happy Wednesday!

Design Notebook: Tailored Jacket Patternmaking

  

This week - after getting my Line & Proportion notebook signed off (yay!) - I started working on my Tailored Jacket for school.  It's one of the big things I need to finish before I can start on my Ball Gown, and it has to meet certain criteria to be approved; specifically, it has to have shoulder pads, a full lining, a two-piece sleeve, a tailored pocket, a mitered cuff, and a notched collar.

I designed a boring jacket that fit the requirements back when I first started at school, but late this last year, I came upon a photo of a beautiful two-tone Balenciaga suit from 1947 and was instantly inspired to design a new one. I wanted to retain the iconic New Look wasp waist with exaggerated hips, but make it contemporary enough to wear with skinny jeans and pencil skirts alike. Plus, I had to put on a bow on it, 'cause it was kinda Balenciaga's thing.

I started with my jacket sloper for the basic fit, and popped the bust dart into the princess seam.  I know from previous experience that for a good fit between my waist and bust, I need small darts at the side fronts, so I incorporated these lines into the design. The back has pleats that add a little extra fullness, which, combined with the bow, keeps the back from becoming a total snooze-fest.  I already have my fabrics picked out, and I'm going to start hunting for the perfect pink lining and vintage black glass buttons so I'll have everything ready to start construction by early April.

Happy Friday!