For a generation of New Haven women, the search for the perfect prom dress or wedding gown has ended with a scooped-back turquoise gown, a studded hot-pink halter or one of the myriad other formal gowns at Cooper’s Dress Shop. And integral to the selection process has been store owner Evelyn Cooperstock — who has memorized a Rolodex of dress codes and formal events from the local high schools that many of her customers attend.
But half a century of dress-shopping tradition is about to change.
With the announcement of the College Square Development project, which will build a 19-story luxury high-rise on the block that Cooper’s currently occupies, Cooperstock is biding time before an inevitable — and she says unwanted — move.
“After 47 years of business, I would have stayed here as long as I could,” Cooperstock said. “I’m not ready to leave.”
Cooperstock, who hopes to relocate to a non-New Haven address on Boston Post Road in May, said she thinks her reputation and established brand will prevent the move from causing much damage to her store’s business. But for other small-business owners, the loss of their rental space will mean a drastic reinvention of business plans — and the lingering question of whether to remain in New Haven.
For Antonio Demasi — owner of The Suit Maker, formerly located at 208 College St. — the choice not to reopen in New Haven was based on a lack of retail space that did not fall under Yale’s strict tenancy rules, which require businesses to be open until 9 p.m. at least six days a week.
Demasi, who will continue running the original branch of his business in Meriden, Conn., said he did not find it feasible to run a small business under the long hours that operating in a Yale-owned space mandates. He says such a shift marks the end of a New Haven that was accessible to mom-and-pop stores.
“What was beautiful about New Haven is there was never any of those big merchants — it was local, one of the few towns that still offered that,” Demasi said. “Now, unless you’re Urban Outfitters, you can’t afford it.”
But even once retail space is found in New Haven, the logistics required to relocate are complicated and costly, said Sanjay Patil, owner of College Wine — the only business on the block currently slated to remain in New Haven after the high-rise is built. Patil said although he finalized a lease on 936 Chapel St., the battle for zoning approval has taken almost a year.
Although Patil received approval from the city zoning board Nov. 13, he said he will still have to go through a legal process with the liquor-control group before he can begin renovations on the space. Once relocated to Chapel Street, his business will shift its focus to high-end wines in order to meet the demands of the future College Square residents.
“A lot of people with high income[s] are shopping around for wines,” said Patil, who hopes to open his new location in March. “It will be a different clientele and a good move to have a nice wine store around there.”
Cooper’s and College Wine are the only two active retail stores remaining on this College Street block.
Danny Scarpalino — whose restaurant’s storefront currently reads, “Thanks for all the memories” — says the cost of relocating expensive restaurant equipment meant the end of the 28-year tenure of his Italian eatery, Scarpellino’s.
Scarpalino, who has relocated with his family to Florida, said since he had been operating under an informal lease with his landlord, he did not receive a buyout and was left without the funds to reopen. Although he thinks growth is good for New Haven, Scarpalino said he thinks the lack of concern on the part of the city and his landlords for the original businesses is a gross oversight.
But Ward 7 Alderwoman Frances Clark said she is “thrilled” wwith the College Square Development project, which she believes will be a major revitalization for her constituency.
“It’s that many more people frequenting our restaurants and our boutiques, and filling the empty stores along College Street,” she said. “Bringing 495 families into downtown is bound to have an effect. You have to mourn the loss of business, but you have to be realistic.”
Director of Town Green Special Services Scott Healy ’96 said the development marks a large investment in the area and will bring with it enormous economic expansion. The current businesses, Healy said, will be replaced by the retail space in the College Square building, which the owner is keen on filling with stores catering to a contemporary clientele.
Centerplan Companies, the developer for the College Square project, could not be reached for comment.
Despite the replacements, his organization has taken steps to help current tenants find new locations, Healy said.
“There are plenty of vacant storefronts, and too much potential for … relocation to think it’s impossible,” he said. “I don’t think any of the businesses would say that the College Street location has been particularly lucrative.”
Still, New Haven residents are concerned about the effects that the project will have on the neighborhood. Qian Gao, an assistant professor of comparative medicine who has lived in New Haven for the past five years, said he worries that after the building project, the neighborhood will be less vibrant.
Hector Leonar, general manager of upscale seafood restaurant Pacifico, said he thinks the restaurant will suffer from the decline in street traffic and the loss of College Wine, from which Pacifico frequently makes purchases.
But such concerns are normal in the process of any development project, Healy said.
“It would be unwise for the city of New Haven to shun a developer because change can be threatening,” he said. “The cumulative effect of this change will cause many ships to rise in the downtown, which will resonate.”
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Bespoke Suits
When you consider that the average bespoke suit involves at least three fittings, around 30 individual measurements, and the chance to choose the exact cloth and cut you want, a few thousand bucks suddenly seems a small price to pay. Not convinced? While the best designer suits might draw on the rudiments of classic tailoring, they won't have the comfort or the durability that comes from a handmade suit. Buy off the rack and you could also end up the unproud owner of a suit with fused front panels (which means the look, and the lifespan, of your suit doesn't so much hang by a hand-sewn thread as from the industrial-strength glue used to hold the panels together). The four young bloods featured here do not believe in glue or any other cut-price tricks of the trade when it comes to making a suit. They are true suitmakers, but more cutting-edge craftsmen than tailors. All of them are steeped in the traditions of bespoke—canvasing, basting, the art of the hand-sewn buttonhole—but the thing they most share in common is the optimism that comes with high standards and work that's sure to last.
The History of Tailoring: An Overview
The knowledge and art of tailoring, of cutting and sewing cloth -- the two basic aspects of constructing clothes from a pattern -- developed slowly and gradually in Europe between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries. The Oxford English Dictionary's first reference to the word "tailor" gives the specific date of 1297; and certainty by that date tailoring guilds, as well as those of weavers, and cloth merchants were well established in Europe.
During the Middle Ages clothing had been regarded as a means of concealing the body. But with the Renaissance came the accentuation of the human form. The loose robe, that standard uniform of the medieval period so easily constructed from a single piece or two of cloth, was shortened and tightened, and eventually cut, pieced, and sewn together in attempts to bring into prominence the contours of the human form. This was the birth of tailoring and, in fact, of fashion.
These attempts at re-constructing the human body in fabric called for a growing expert skill and division of labor. Soon the cutter (the one who makes the pattern) and tailor (the one who does the sewing) joined other craftsmen as important members of the community.
Until this time the cloth had been the distinguishing feature of garments, and the wearer took most of the responsibility for the design ~ and, in most cases, the actual production ~ of his own clothes. But little by little, the tailor took on equal importance with the weaver, and gradually came to overshadow him. Master tailors in the growing towns eventually became responsible for the clothing needs of society, and the art and science of tailoring became a highly specialized, complex, and jealously guarded craft.
As towns became cities, then city states, and finally empires of power, fashion followed. First Italy, then Spain and France became the center for fashionable dress in concert with the power, wealth, and influence of those empires. Italy reached its great flowering during the age of Michaelangelo, followed by Spain early in the 17th century. France reached its fashionable peak for tailoring during the long reign of Louis XIV (1643 - 1715), when foppish young men from all over Europe flocked to Paris for their wardrobes. Almost every comic play written in the second half of the 17th century includes the character of a Paris-dressed fop, perfumed and beribboned, with powdered wig and silver-buckled shoe in the latest French mode. But by the time of the French king's death in 1715, there had already begun a shift in power, and influence -- and fashion.
Even during Louis' long lifetime a great shift in masculine costume was occurring. In the middle of the 17th century men began to give up the doublet, hose, and cloak that had been the staple items of their wardrobe since the 1500s, and began to wear coat, vest, and breeches, the three components we can begin to identify as modern dress.
Across the Channel, the English had not only turned away from the doublet and hose, but quickly moved through the phase of embroidered ostentation decreed by the French court. They had just survived a bitter but democratizing civil war (l642 - 1649) which, among other things, called into question the brocades and velvets, the silk and pastel satins and powdered wigs and other ostentations of aristocratic French court dress. Over two centuries later, Oscar Wilde would quip that the Puritans and Cavaliers who fought that war were more interesting for their costumes than their moral convictions.
The English moved away from the highly decorative and delicate court style, and took up a more practical form. The costume of both the landed gentry and the newer mercantile class became progressively less gorgeous and exquisite during the 18th century, and far more somber and sober. By the early decades of the 19th century, sobriety (in dress at any rate) had begun to penetrate even the court circle itself, and kings, consorts, and princes were seen to dress in a manner almost identical with their subjects. By mid-century the age of stovepipe hats, umbrellas, and frock coats -- each in glossy black -- was firmly in place.
English tailors, particularly those in London, now came to dominate the fashion scene. First, the English had evolved a style for masculine clothing that was a subtle blending of landed gentry, sporting attire, and bourgeois business wear produced in the tremendous wake of the Industrial Revolution. Secondly, aristocratic court clothing had not been constructed so much with a concern for fit as it had with concerns for decoration, fabric, and color. But when the shift away from ornamentation and ostentation began to occur, fit became the criterion of dress for men. We take it for granted today, but the idea of "fit" as a criterion for men's clothes is a fairly recent one. It is an idea calling for great skill in execution.
The English tailor was trained to use woolen cloth, and over years of experimentation and practice he developed techniques for "molding" the cloth close to the body without exactly duplicating the true form of the wearer. In short, the tailor could now actually develop a new aesthetic of dress: he could mimic the real body, while at the same time "improving" and idealizing it! It was no longer a question of voluminous yards of flowing silken brocade. Men became "gentlemen" (itself a 19th century term) and frowned upon gaudy display in favor of discretion, simplicity, and the perfection of cut. It was, in terms of fashion, the culmination of that radical turn taken in mid-17th century: the Modern had finally arrived! And the Modern was the tailor's art.
There have been tremendous innovations in these past hundred years in fashion and the art of tailoring: sewing machines now do the work on straight seams better than could be done by hand; new fabric technology has history produced more comfortable cloths; fashions have adapted to more leisurely, climate-controlled lifestyles. But tailoring is still, and likely to remain so, an art. It has not been brought down to the level of a science. The tailor still believes in making personalized clothing, statements of fashion for the individual, as he always has done.
Even since the invention of ready-made, cheaply-produced clothes in the middle of the last century, the demise of the tailor has been predicted. Like the panda and the whooping crane, it has been said, the march of modern life is against him. Mega-international corporations seem to own everything, calculatedly obsolete gimmickry)· abounds, and Coca-Cola now sells clothing as well as soft drinks by the millions of units. But craftsmen have indeed managed to survive in this age of the mass-produced and quickly thrown away, even to prosper. There is still a clear need for the uniquely personal and individual in our lives. In this age of the shoddy and the quick, the vulgar and the mass-consumed, tailors can still be counted on to champion uniqueness and quality. It is the hallmark of their tradition.
Today, skilled tailors can be found in Rome as well as Richmond, VA, Paris and Pittsburgh, Hong Kong, Kansas City, Rio and Dallas -- as well of course as Milan, London, and New York They are the fitters and pattern drafters, the stitchers of the handmade buttonholes, the cutters of the fine worsted and cashmere and heathery tweed. And they are all standing in the long shadow of tradition and craftsmanship that is the art of tailoring.
During the Middle Ages clothing had been regarded as a means of concealing the body. But with the Renaissance came the accentuation of the human form. The loose robe, that standard uniform of the medieval period so easily constructed from a single piece or two of cloth, was shortened and tightened, and eventually cut, pieced, and sewn together in attempts to bring into prominence the contours of the human form. This was the birth of tailoring and, in fact, of fashion.
These attempts at re-constructing the human body in fabric called for a growing expert skill and division of labor. Soon the cutter (the one who makes the pattern) and tailor (the one who does the sewing) joined other craftsmen as important members of the community.
Until this time the cloth had been the distinguishing feature of garments, and the wearer took most of the responsibility for the design ~ and, in most cases, the actual production ~ of his own clothes. But little by little, the tailor took on equal importance with the weaver, and gradually came to overshadow him. Master tailors in the growing towns eventually became responsible for the clothing needs of society, and the art and science of tailoring became a highly specialized, complex, and jealously guarded craft.
As towns became cities, then city states, and finally empires of power, fashion followed. First Italy, then Spain and France became the center for fashionable dress in concert with the power, wealth, and influence of those empires. Italy reached its great flowering during the age of Michaelangelo, followed by Spain early in the 17th century. France reached its fashionable peak for tailoring during the long reign of Louis XIV (1643 - 1715), when foppish young men from all over Europe flocked to Paris for their wardrobes. Almost every comic play written in the second half of the 17th century includes the character of a Paris-dressed fop, perfumed and beribboned, with powdered wig and silver-buckled shoe in the latest French mode. But by the time of the French king's death in 1715, there had already begun a shift in power, and influence -- and fashion.
Even during Louis' long lifetime a great shift in masculine costume was occurring. In the middle of the 17th century men began to give up the doublet, hose, and cloak that had been the staple items of their wardrobe since the 1500s, and began to wear coat, vest, and breeches, the three components we can begin to identify as modern dress.
Across the Channel, the English had not only turned away from the doublet and hose, but quickly moved through the phase of embroidered ostentation decreed by the French court. They had just survived a bitter but democratizing civil war (l642 - 1649) which, among other things, called into question the brocades and velvets, the silk and pastel satins and powdered wigs and other ostentations of aristocratic French court dress. Over two centuries later, Oscar Wilde would quip that the Puritans and Cavaliers who fought that war were more interesting for their costumes than their moral convictions.
The English moved away from the highly decorative and delicate court style, and took up a more practical form. The costume of both the landed gentry and the newer mercantile class became progressively less gorgeous and exquisite during the 18th century, and far more somber and sober. By the early decades of the 19th century, sobriety (in dress at any rate) had begun to penetrate even the court circle itself, and kings, consorts, and princes were seen to dress in a manner almost identical with their subjects. By mid-century the age of stovepipe hats, umbrellas, and frock coats -- each in glossy black -- was firmly in place.
English tailors, particularly those in London, now came to dominate the fashion scene. First, the English had evolved a style for masculine clothing that was a subtle blending of landed gentry, sporting attire, and bourgeois business wear produced in the tremendous wake of the Industrial Revolution. Secondly, aristocratic court clothing had not been constructed so much with a concern for fit as it had with concerns for decoration, fabric, and color. But when the shift away from ornamentation and ostentation began to occur, fit became the criterion of dress for men. We take it for granted today, but the idea of "fit" as a criterion for men's clothes is a fairly recent one. It is an idea calling for great skill in execution.
The English tailor was trained to use woolen cloth, and over years of experimentation and practice he developed techniques for "molding" the cloth close to the body without exactly duplicating the true form of the wearer. In short, the tailor could now actually develop a new aesthetic of dress: he could mimic the real body, while at the same time "improving" and idealizing it! It was no longer a question of voluminous yards of flowing silken brocade. Men became "gentlemen" (itself a 19th century term) and frowned upon gaudy display in favor of discretion, simplicity, and the perfection of cut. It was, in terms of fashion, the culmination of that radical turn taken in mid-17th century: the Modern had finally arrived! And the Modern was the tailor's art.
There have been tremendous innovations in these past hundred years in fashion and the art of tailoring: sewing machines now do the work on straight seams better than could be done by hand; new fabric technology has history produced more comfortable cloths; fashions have adapted to more leisurely, climate-controlled lifestyles. But tailoring is still, and likely to remain so, an art. It has not been brought down to the level of a science. The tailor still believes in making personalized clothing, statements of fashion for the individual, as he always has done.
Even since the invention of ready-made, cheaply-produced clothes in the middle of the last century, the demise of the tailor has been predicted. Like the panda and the whooping crane, it has been said, the march of modern life is against him. Mega-international corporations seem to own everything, calculatedly obsolete gimmickry)· abounds, and Coca-Cola now sells clothing as well as soft drinks by the millions of units. But craftsmen have indeed managed to survive in this age of the mass-produced and quickly thrown away, even to prosper. There is still a clear need for the uniquely personal and individual in our lives. In this age of the shoddy and the quick, the vulgar and the mass-consumed, tailors can still be counted on to champion uniqueness and quality. It is the hallmark of their tradition.
Today, skilled tailors can be found in Rome as well as Richmond, VA, Paris and Pittsburgh, Hong Kong, Kansas City, Rio and Dallas -- as well of course as Milan, London, and New York They are the fitters and pattern drafters, the stitchers of the handmade buttonholes, the cutters of the fine worsted and cashmere and heathery tweed. And they are all standing in the long shadow of tradition and craftsmanship that is the art of tailoring.
Neckties and Cravats
A cravat is a length of white linen, casually knotted around the neck. Worn plain or trimmed with costly lace, the cravat was the defining element of personal elegance in the early 19th century. Cravats had existed in various forms since the 17th century, but they reached their height of complexity in the 1810s, due to the influence of Beau Brummell, the noted dandy. Brummell was known for his impeccably clean and crisp linen, carefully folded and tied in place over a high collar that reached up to his chin.
The modern necktie developed in the mid-19th century. At the time, it was called the “four in hand,” because the knot echoed the knotting of reigns in horseback riding. The “four in hand” was one of many neckwear options during this period. Also popular were the ascot, the bowtie, and the stock. These styles represent a considerable change from the cravat.
Although largely decorative, the necktie is frequently interpreted as a symbol of masculine strength and power. Lending credence to this interpretation is its frequent appearance in the wardrobes of sportswomen and suffragettes in the later years of the 19th century, and again in the 1920s.With the demise of most formal accessories in the early 20th century, neckties – along with hats – became an important way to distinguish oneself in a sea of conformity.
Fashionable neckties of the 20th century varied tremendously in length, width, and choice of pattern. Stripes and foulards were perennial favorites, while during some decades, such as the 1940s and 1960s, the favored ties were wide and often decorated with flamboyant floral or geometric patterns.
The modern necktie developed in the mid-19th century. At the time, it was called the “four in hand,” because the knot echoed the knotting of reigns in horseback riding. The “four in hand” was one of many neckwear options during this period. Also popular were the ascot, the bowtie, and the stock. These styles represent a considerable change from the cravat.
Although largely decorative, the necktie is frequently interpreted as a symbol of masculine strength and power. Lending credence to this interpretation is its frequent appearance in the wardrobes of sportswomen and suffragettes in the later years of the 19th century, and again in the 1920s.With the demise of most formal accessories in the early 20th century, neckties – along with hats – became an important way to distinguish oneself in a sea of conformity.
Fashionable neckties of the 20th century varied tremendously in length, width, and choice of pattern. Stripes and foulards were perennial favorites, while during some decades, such as the 1940s and 1960s, the favored ties were wide and often decorated with flamboyant floral or geometric patterns.
CONTEMPORARY TAILORING FOR MEN
After the Peacock Revolution of the 1960s, male dressing returned to a relatively staid appearance with only sporadic moments of exuberance, such as Vivienne Westwood’s tartan suit and kilt, or Jean-Paul Gaultier’s fetishized suits for men that appropriated women’s dressmaking techniques (such as
ruching) and used zippers as ornament. The two most significant changes in male attire during the late 20th century were the Armani-style suit and the rise of deconstruction.
Italian designer Giorgio Armani sparked a revolution in menswear when he introduced his softly constructed suit in the 1970s.Unlike most menswear of the time, Armani’s suits were elegantly loose and draped with little apparent inner structure. Their casual elegance was further enhanced by his choice of drab earth tones such as beige, stone, and taupe. His suits for women followed the look of his menswear, incorporating the same construction techniques and color palette. The Armani suit dominated fashion for two decades.
Deconstructed garments are often unfinished-looking, with loose, frayed hems and edges. They sometimes appear to be coming apart, or look as if they were recycled or made from composite parts. They are frequently dark in color, suggesting poverty, devastation, or degradation, while their silhouettes tend to obscure the body and lack clear frontality. The pioneers of formalized deconstruction in high fashion were Rei Kawakubo (whose clothing label is Comme des Garçons) and Yohji Yamamoto. Reviled in the early 1980s when they first presented their all-black collections in Paris, their dark and deconstructed suits have since become the uniform of urban cool.
Abiding by conventional aesthetics while embracing contemporary elements such as reconstruction, young and influential talents, such as New York based tailor Thom Browne, have been pushing the perimeters of male dressing since the late 1990s. Beginning with the concept of deconstruction, or taking garments apart to reveal their inner structure, reconstruction is a process that reconfigures those disassembled parts in new ways. Browne’s gray flannel and white cotton pique suit is a brilliant example of this blending of old and new. Browne took apart the three-piece suit by removing the arms of the jacket and placing them on the waistcoat, or vest.
The fresh innovations and dashing aesthetic style of Browne and like-minded young designers have reinvigorated contemporary interest in tailoring and the man’s suit.
ruching) and used zippers as ornament. The two most significant changes in male attire during the late 20th century were the Armani-style suit and the rise of deconstruction.
Italian designer Giorgio Armani sparked a revolution in menswear when he introduced his softly constructed suit in the 1970s.Unlike most menswear of the time, Armani’s suits were elegantly loose and draped with little apparent inner structure. Their casual elegance was further enhanced by his choice of drab earth tones such as beige, stone, and taupe. His suits for women followed the look of his menswear, incorporating the same construction techniques and color palette. The Armani suit dominated fashion for two decades.
Deconstructed garments are often unfinished-looking, with loose, frayed hems and edges. They sometimes appear to be coming apart, or look as if they were recycled or made from composite parts. They are frequently dark in color, suggesting poverty, devastation, or degradation, while their silhouettes tend to obscure the body and lack clear frontality. The pioneers of formalized deconstruction in high fashion were Rei Kawakubo (whose clothing label is Comme des Garçons) and Yohji Yamamoto. Reviled in the early 1980s when they first presented their all-black collections in Paris, their dark and deconstructed suits have since become the uniform of urban cool.
Abiding by conventional aesthetics while embracing contemporary elements such as reconstruction, young and influential talents, such as New York based tailor Thom Browne, have been pushing the perimeters of male dressing since the late 1990s. Beginning with the concept of deconstruction, or taking garments apart to reveal their inner structure, reconstruction is a process that reconfigures those disassembled parts in new ways. Browne’s gray flannel and white cotton pique suit is a brilliant example of this blending of old and new. Browne took apart the three-piece suit by removing the arms of the jacket and placing them on the waistcoat, or vest.
The fresh innovations and dashing aesthetic style of Browne and like-minded young designers have reinvigorated contemporary interest in tailoring and the man’s suit.
MENSWEAR FABRICS- A GLOSSARY
Men’s suit, coat, and trouser fabrics are usually wool or wool-blends. Different methods of processing fibers and finished cloth result in a variety of fabric types. Fabric produced expressly for menswear tends to feature simple weave structures, and twill weaves dominate this category. Twill weaves are characterized by diagonal alignment of fibers, which allows the fabric to drape appropriately yet maintain its integrity.
Men’s shirting fabrics have traditionally been dominated by checks and stripes in fine combed cotton. Variation within this narrow design vocabulary is achieved through scale and spacing. Variations in texture can be produced by different weave structures.
The following glossary contains a sampling of terminology related to menswear
Argyle- Used on hose and sweaters, argyle has large diamonds in bright colors with contrasting diagonal overstripes.
Donegal- A tweed from Northern Ireland characterized by irregular nubs and flecks of color.
Flannel- From the Welsh word gwalnen, meaning woolen, this fabric is usually loosely woven, coarse, lightly twisted yarns. First used in the 19th century as underwear, by the 1880s flannel was used for male sporting attire. By the 1920s, grey flannel was an ever-present component of the man’s suit.
Gabardine- A manufacturing staple for men’s suiting, this diagonal ribbed fabric is raised, closely set, and distinct. In beige, gabardine is considered the fabric summer suit material.
Glen Plaid- Used often in suiting fabrics, the glen plaid is constructed of small woven checks in one or two muted colors with white.
Herringbone- Named because of its resemblance to a fish backbone, herringbone is used in many fabrics for suiting and outerwear. This is one of the most popular weaves used for men’s suiting and outerwear.
Houndstooth- A pointed check effect produced with yarns of contrasting color groups in groups of four in both the warp and the weft.
Tattersall- A smaller scale check than windowpane, tattersall is a regularly spaced plaid usually in dark lines of two colors on light ground. This check was named for a London horse market where horse blankets with this design were used.
Tweed- Refers to a wool fabric with irregular density and coarse texture. Herringbone and houndstooth are variations on tweed.
Windowpane- A simple, large, barred check resembling windowpane. Popular in the 1880s.
Worsted- This term applies to yarn manufactured on the worsted spinning system, regardless of the fiber content. Worsted fabric is a favorite of Savile Row tailors for its ease for working and pliant nature.
Men’s shirting fabrics have traditionally been dominated by checks and stripes in fine combed cotton. Variation within this narrow design vocabulary is achieved through scale and spacing. Variations in texture can be produced by different weave structures.
The following glossary contains a sampling of terminology related to menswear
Argyle- Used on hose and sweaters, argyle has large diamonds in bright colors with contrasting diagonal overstripes.
Donegal- A tweed from Northern Ireland characterized by irregular nubs and flecks of color.
Flannel- From the Welsh word gwalnen, meaning woolen, this fabric is usually loosely woven, coarse, lightly twisted yarns. First used in the 19th century as underwear, by the 1880s flannel was used for male sporting attire. By the 1920s, grey flannel was an ever-present component of the man’s suit.
Gabardine- A manufacturing staple for men’s suiting, this diagonal ribbed fabric is raised, closely set, and distinct. In beige, gabardine is considered the fabric summer suit material.
Glen Plaid- Used often in suiting fabrics, the glen plaid is constructed of small woven checks in one or two muted colors with white.
Herringbone- Named because of its resemblance to a fish backbone, herringbone is used in many fabrics for suiting and outerwear. This is one of the most popular weaves used for men’s suiting and outerwear.
Houndstooth- A pointed check effect produced with yarns of contrasting color groups in groups of four in both the warp and the weft.
Tattersall- A smaller scale check than windowpane, tattersall is a regularly spaced plaid usually in dark lines of two colors on light ground. This check was named for a London horse market where horse blankets with this design were used.
Tweed- Refers to a wool fabric with irregular density and coarse texture. Herringbone and houndstooth are variations on tweed.
Windowpane- A simple, large, barred check resembling windowpane. Popular in the 1880s.
Worsted- This term applies to yarn manufactured on the worsted spinning system, regardless of the fiber content. Worsted fabric is a favorite of Savile Row tailors for its ease for working and pliant nature.
Holiday Sewing Ideas
The holidays are filled with visits from family and friends as we host meals, parties and all manner of gatherings. Amid all the planning and cooking, it’s easy to forget that it’s the small touches that make loved ones feel special. Often we think that the most expensive food and decorations are what make for a memorable party, but you can make an impression and show your guests you care by creating personal touches that reflect your personality and allow you to express your creativity.
Add a special touch with decorations you sew or embroider yourself. With a few quick and easy projects your home can rival those found in any magazine, and you will have personalized creations to enjoy year after year -- and possibly hand down to future generations.
“By creating your own décor, you can let your imagination soar, and you can be sure that the colors and fabrics are exactly what you want,” says Gayle Hillert, vice president of education and training at Bernina of America. The Bernina Company, located in Steckborn, Switzerland, produces creative and innovative sewing systems, overlockers, embroidery machines, software and accessories.
1. Set the mood with a beautiful dining or buffet table covered in rich fabrics.
2. A table runner in gold damask with deep red trim and tassels is an easy sewing project that adds glamour and style and lets your guests know they’ve arrived at a very special party.
3. Mark your guest’s place and create a timeless keepsake at the same time with ornaments embroidered with their name or a holiday wish.. Set one at each place as a party favor for each guest, or nestle them in a silver bowl or platter by the front door for guests to pick up as they depart.
4. Personalized gifts are easy when you have the right tools. Embroidery machines make quick work of elegantly scrolled initials. The Deco 330 by Bernina offers 50 built-in designs and hundreds of additional options from their design card library. “Everything you want in embroidery -- the alphabets, the colors, the selection of designs and placement control -- is available on this machine,” says Hillert. “You can create something unique for any occasion. And your guests will remember your personal touch for years to come.”
Add a special touch with decorations you sew or embroider yourself. With a few quick and easy projects your home can rival those found in any magazine, and you will have personalized creations to enjoy year after year -- and possibly hand down to future generations.
“By creating your own décor, you can let your imagination soar, and you can be sure that the colors and fabrics are exactly what you want,” says Gayle Hillert, vice president of education and training at Bernina of America. The Bernina Company, located in Steckborn, Switzerland, produces creative and innovative sewing systems, overlockers, embroidery machines, software and accessories.
1. Set the mood with a beautiful dining or buffet table covered in rich fabrics.
2. A table runner in gold damask with deep red trim and tassels is an easy sewing project that adds glamour and style and lets your guests know they’ve arrived at a very special party.
3. Mark your guest’s place and create a timeless keepsake at the same time with ornaments embroidered with their name or a holiday wish.. Set one at each place as a party favor for each guest, or nestle them in a silver bowl or platter by the front door for guests to pick up as they depart.
4. Personalized gifts are easy when you have the right tools. Embroidery machines make quick work of elegantly scrolled initials. The Deco 330 by Bernina offers 50 built-in designs and hundreds of additional options from their design card library. “Everything you want in embroidery -- the alphabets, the colors, the selection of designs and placement control -- is available on this machine,” says Hillert. “You can create something unique for any occasion. And your guests will remember your personal touch for years to come.”
Sewing a Tree Skirt
Tree Skirt
Set up the MC10000 for Ordinary sewing.
Thread the needle and bobbin with 50wt. cotton thread.
Select Zigzag stitch #8. Adjust the width to 2.5 and length to 1.5.
Zigzag around the inside lace edging. Cut away the excess lace yardage.
Thread the needle with Janome embroidery thread.
Select a decorative hemstitch. Adjust the width to 5.0.
Sew around the inside and the outside of the lace.
Carefully press the bells.
Sew a small tassel at the bottom center of each bell.
Sew a small bow at the top of the bells using the 1/4" ribbon.
Make and attach a bow between each of the bells using 1 yard of the 2" ribbon.
Attach Velcro strip to the right side of one edge on the satin and one edge on the pre-washed muslin.
Sew the lining to the skirt. Be sure to leave an opening for turning along one of the back seams. Press.
Set up the MC10000 for Professional-Style Embroidery.
Insert PC Design Card #1012 (K-Lace® Peacock Collection II) into the machine.
Press the Embroidery Mode key.
Press the PC Card tab. Select Design #13.
Place water-soluble stabilizer in the Standard Hoop A.
Stitch approximately fifty designs.
Remove stabilizer following manufacturer's instructions.
Hand-sew each motif around the bottom of the skirt at 1" intervals.
Set up the MC10000 for Ordinary sewing.
Thread the needle and bobbin with 50wt. cotton thread.
Select Zigzag stitch #8. Adjust the width to 2.5 and length to 1.5.
Zigzag around the inside lace edging. Cut away the excess lace yardage.
Thread the needle with Janome embroidery thread.
Select a decorative hemstitch. Adjust the width to 5.0.
Sew around the inside and the outside of the lace.
Carefully press the bells.
Sew a small tassel at the bottom center of each bell.
Sew a small bow at the top of the bells using the 1/4" ribbon.
Make and attach a bow between each of the bells using 1 yard of the 2" ribbon.
Attach Velcro strip to the right side of one edge on the satin and one edge on the pre-washed muslin.
Sew the lining to the skirt. Be sure to leave an opening for turning along one of the back seams. Press.
Set up the MC10000 for Professional-Style Embroidery.
Insert PC Design Card #1012 (K-Lace® Peacock Collection II) into the machine.
Press the Embroidery Mode key.
Press the PC Card tab. Select Design #13.
Place water-soluble stabilizer in the Standard Hoop A.
Stitch approximately fifty designs.
Remove stabilizer following manufacturer's instructions.
Hand-sew each motif around the bottom of the skirt at 1" intervals.
Newspaper Article
Sewing Up Business
Lina DeMasi's success is cut from the same cloth as immigrant entrepreneurs of old
It's a classic tale of American bootstrapping success. And an increasingly rare one these days.
Lina DeMasi got her start in the garment industry 20 years ago as a machine operator. She had emigrated to American from Jogiosaj-Jonica in southern Italy with her husband and three young children. She didn't speak English (even today her accent gives her away), and she couldn't work full-time because of her family.
She finally found work at Elita Dresses, a subcontractor long out of business. DeMasi had little formal education; she “learned everything in this country.” Mainly, she learned by doing. She started out as a machine operator but before long was promoted to floor manager, “dividing work, pushing production and doing quality control,” DeMasi recalls.
Over the years she was forced to bounce from subcontractor to subcontractor, working night shifts and other demanding schedules because bosses wouldn't permit her to work flexible hours to meet her family's needs. She dreamed of starting her own business to help others who were in here same position.
Certainly, she would be able to empathize with hard-working, low-wage employees. “Bosses don't understand,” DeMasi says. “They don't care about your kids, your family. I understand. I went through that road. I feel sorry when these people ask for work. I say, 'Come when you can.' It puts a little money in their pocket.”
DeMasi started Lina Fashions in 1991 with four sewing machines and four employees. Four years later, her 7,000-square-foot Pratt Street plant houses 45 machines and 50 workers. The company is a subcontractor that assembles complete garmets, labels and all. Lina works for one company, the Massachusetts-based KGR, which distributes the clothes to familiar retailers like Talbots and Lord & Taylor.
DeMasi got her business off the ground and eventually landed KGR the old-fashioned way: knocking on doors, calling designers and manufacturers, asking them to give her chance to make some clothing samples. She started out with business from Christian Dior and Jones of New York, but she needed work year round. KGR keeps her busy, and so she works only for them now. DeMasi explains that she has “a good reputation. People know my work. I do quality work, and I deliver my work on time so that they can get their product to the stores to sell.”
DeMasi says she can find enough workers who sew, although “it's getting harder.” Meriden has many Spanish-speaking immigrants now walking in DeMasi's former shoes. They come from Puerto Rico, Ecuador, Guatemala. Few of them speak English: DeMasi learned Spanish over the past 18 years, and says she now speaks Spanish more than she speaks Italian.
DeMasi attributes her firm's growth to plowing profits back into the business, mainly buying machines and attachments. Lina's revenues have grown more than 20 percent in the last year, and she expects to gross about $500,000 in 1995. Although there are “a lot, a lot of subcontractors in Connecticut,” she says her secret is a simple one: delivering a quality product on time.
That, and plain old hard work. And even though business is robust, DeMasi isn't exactly kicking back. “We work. We come home. People say, 'What are you doing?' We have one car. Nothing fancy. My husband does the bookkeeping. We are very careful. There's not much left after we pay workers, workers comp, rent, employment taxes and other expenses. It's not profit.”
Lina DeMasi's success is cut from the same cloth as immigrant entrepreneurs of old
It's a classic tale of American bootstrapping success. And an increasingly rare one these days.
Lina DeMasi got her start in the garment industry 20 years ago as a machine operator. She had emigrated to American from Jogiosaj-Jonica in southern Italy with her husband and three young children. She didn't speak English (even today her accent gives her away), and she couldn't work full-time because of her family.
She finally found work at Elita Dresses, a subcontractor long out of business. DeMasi had little formal education; she “learned everything in this country.” Mainly, she learned by doing. She started out as a machine operator but before long was promoted to floor manager, “dividing work, pushing production and doing quality control,” DeMasi recalls.
Over the years she was forced to bounce from subcontractor to subcontractor, working night shifts and other demanding schedules because bosses wouldn't permit her to work flexible hours to meet her family's needs. She dreamed of starting her own business to help others who were in here same position.
Certainly, she would be able to empathize with hard-working, low-wage employees. “Bosses don't understand,” DeMasi says. “They don't care about your kids, your family. I understand. I went through that road. I feel sorry when these people ask for work. I say, 'Come when you can.' It puts a little money in their pocket.”
DeMasi started Lina Fashions in 1991 with four sewing machines and four employees. Four years later, her 7,000-square-foot Pratt Street plant houses 45 machines and 50 workers. The company is a subcontractor that assembles complete garmets, labels and all. Lina works for one company, the Massachusetts-based KGR, which distributes the clothes to familiar retailers like Talbots and Lord & Taylor.
DeMasi got her business off the ground and eventually landed KGR the old-fashioned way: knocking on doors, calling designers and manufacturers, asking them to give her chance to make some clothing samples. She started out with business from Christian Dior and Jones of New York, but she needed work year round. KGR keeps her busy, and so she works only for them now. DeMasi explains that she has “a good reputation. People know my work. I do quality work, and I deliver my work on time so that they can get their product to the stores to sell.”
DeMasi says she can find enough workers who sew, although “it's getting harder.” Meriden has many Spanish-speaking immigrants now walking in DeMasi's former shoes. They come from Puerto Rico, Ecuador, Guatemala. Few of them speak English: DeMasi learned Spanish over the past 18 years, and says she now speaks Spanish more than she speaks Italian.
DeMasi attributes her firm's growth to plowing profits back into the business, mainly buying machines and attachments. Lina's revenues have grown more than 20 percent in the last year, and she expects to gross about $500,000 in 1995. Although there are “a lot, a lot of subcontractors in Connecticut,” she says her secret is a simple one: delivering a quality product on time.
That, and plain old hard work. And even though business is robust, DeMasi isn't exactly kicking back. “We work. We come home. People say, 'What are you doing?' We have one car. Nothing fancy. My husband does the bookkeeping. We are very careful. There's not much left after we pay workers, workers comp, rent, employment taxes and other expenses. It's not profit.”
Monday, November 12, 2007
Sewing a Turkey
Possibilities
Write seven reasons to be thankful on tiny pieces of paper, and tie one to each button on the turkey's tail. Ask family members to read them during your Thanksgiving feast.
Materials
9 x 12-inch (22.9 x 30.5 cm) sheets felt: pumpkin, antique gold, two each;
cinnamon, hunter green, ruby, one each. (Note: Kunin Rainbow™ Felt Classic felt was used in the sample project.)
Embroidery floss: brown; gold
Sewing threads: black; natural linen
Needles: embroidery; sewing
Flat buttons: seven 1/2-inch (1.3 cm) assorted colors; 3/8-inch (1.0 cm)
off-white: two 4-hole; one 2-hole
4mm black beads, two
Brown/cream mini-check cotton fabric, 1 x 9-inch (2.5 x 22.9 cm) torn strip
Polyester fiberfill
Miscellaneous items: tracing paper; pencil; scissors; ruler; straight pins; hot
Glue gun
Full-size pattern (pdf file)
Instructions
Trace the patterns from the pattern section and cut as indicated.
To make each turkey section, align and pin the matching felt pieces.
See the illustration below to work blanket stitches around each section with three strands of floss. Use brown floss to stitch each tail and gold floss to stitch the body, lightly stuffing each section with fiberfill as you work.
Up at 1, down at 2. Up at 3 with thread below needle. Pull through.
Use brown floss to work stitches around each wing; do not stuff.
Use black thread to sew black bead eyes to the head where indicated by dots on the pattern.
Refer to the photo to hot-glue the beak and wattle below the eyes.
Use linen thread to sew an X in two 3/8-inch (1.0 cm) 4-hole buttons and a straight stitch in the 3/8-inch (1.0 cm) 2-hole button; knot ends.
Glue the buttons to the turkey's breast where indicated by dots, with the 2-hole button in the center.
Tie the fabric strip in a bow. Cut V’s in the ends. Glue the bow to the neck.
On a flat surface, align the two tails and body upright; pin in place.
Pin the wings behind the body with pointed ends down and round ends even with the neck.
Hot glue the body and wings to the small tail, and the small tail to the large tail, removing pins as each section is glued.
Thread each 1/2-inch (1.3 cm) button with a 6-inch (15.2 cm) length of linen thread. Tie a 1-inch (2.5 cm) bow on the front of the button; trim ends.
Refer to the pattern to glue a button/bow to each tail feather where indicated by dots.
Write seven reasons to be thankful on tiny pieces of paper, and tie one to each button on the turkey's tail. Ask family members to read them during your Thanksgiving feast.
Materials
9 x 12-inch (22.9 x 30.5 cm) sheets felt: pumpkin, antique gold, two each;
cinnamon, hunter green, ruby, one each. (Note: Kunin Rainbow™ Felt Classic felt was used in the sample project.)
Embroidery floss: brown; gold
Sewing threads: black; natural linen
Needles: embroidery; sewing
Flat buttons: seven 1/2-inch (1.3 cm) assorted colors; 3/8-inch (1.0 cm)
off-white: two 4-hole; one 2-hole
4mm black beads, two
Brown/cream mini-check cotton fabric, 1 x 9-inch (2.5 x 22.9 cm) torn strip
Polyester fiberfill
Miscellaneous items: tracing paper; pencil; scissors; ruler; straight pins; hot
Glue gun
Full-size pattern (pdf file)
Instructions
Trace the patterns from the pattern section and cut as indicated.
To make each turkey section, align and pin the matching felt pieces.
See the illustration below to work blanket stitches around each section with three strands of floss. Use brown floss to stitch each tail and gold floss to stitch the body, lightly stuffing each section with fiberfill as you work.
Up at 1, down at 2. Up at 3 with thread below needle. Pull through.
Use brown floss to work stitches around each wing; do not stuff.
Use black thread to sew black bead eyes to the head where indicated by dots on the pattern.
Refer to the photo to hot-glue the beak and wattle below the eyes.
Use linen thread to sew an X in two 3/8-inch (1.0 cm) 4-hole buttons and a straight stitch in the 3/8-inch (1.0 cm) 2-hole button; knot ends.
Glue the buttons to the turkey's breast where indicated by dots, with the 2-hole button in the center.
Tie the fabric strip in a bow. Cut V’s in the ends. Glue the bow to the neck.
On a flat surface, align the two tails and body upright; pin in place.
Pin the wings behind the body with pointed ends down and round ends even with the neck.
Hot glue the body and wings to the small tail, and the small tail to the large tail, removing pins as each section is glued.
Thread each 1/2-inch (1.3 cm) button with a 6-inch (15.2 cm) length of linen thread. Tie a 1-inch (2.5 cm) bow on the front of the button; trim ends.
Refer to the pattern to glue a button/bow to each tail feather where indicated by dots.
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