Showing posts with label Designer DIY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Designer DIY. Show all posts

Friday, April 1, 2022

Voice from the past

If you were reading my blog (or if you were reading the New York Times) during the summer of 2020, you may remember the silly series called Designer DIY that ran off and on in the Times, in which famous fashion designers came up with adorable sewing and craft ideas for readers to do at home.  Mending and embroidering garments were popular repeat subjects, but making flimsy "jewelry" and handbags also showed up, as well as making a dress out of a pillowcase.

One of my favorites was the feature in which you were instructed on how to embroider your name on your sock.  You were told to use an embroidery hoop, and here's a helpful drawing of work in progress:

from NYTimes Style section

You (unlike the artist or the editor) will notice, of course, that it will be impossible to put the sock on your foot, since the sides of the sock are now sewed together.

I came to love these features, because it enabled me to write snarky comments about how lame the ideas were, and more egregious, how awful the directions were.  If you have 15 minutes to fritter away on the internet today, you might want to read or reread these blog posts, guaranteed to give you lots of laughs.

The posts led to a bunch of comments from my readers, many of whom urged me to write the Times and tell them how awful the series was.  So I did.  Sometime in the summer of 2020 I wrote a long letter that spelled out all the things that they were doing poorly, and urging them to clean up their act.  

I wrote, in part: "If your purpose in this series is to win brownie points in the fashion community and give some designers a bit of free ink, then you have probably succeeded, especially among readers who don’t actually try to do the projects. But if your purpose is to give your readers projects they can succeed at and feel proud of, you are failing miserably. I suspect that the great majority of readers who do the projects are also failing miserably, which I can’t imagine is building warm feelings toward the Times.

"Perhaps things would work better if you let the designers come up with the ideas and let somebody who does actual handwork write the instructions. Better yet, let somebody who does actual handwork come up with the ideas too, so you could present projects that are doable and attractive." 

I received no response, until this morning!

When I found an email, saying "Thank you for contacting the newsroom of The New York Times.  We appreciate readers who share their feedback and help us report thoroughly and accurately.  Someone will read your note shortly, but because of the volume of notes we receive, we cannot respond individually to each one."

I am so gratified that someone will read my note shortly.

Meanwhile, if you want to embroider your sock, please use a darning egg, not an embroidery hoop.

Sunday, November 29, 2020

Thankful for another Designer DIY!

Our friends at the New York Times haven't given us a Designer DIY for a while, but how nice to save it for Thanksgiving!  And the fancy designer trick this time is -- wait for it -- mending!!  And not just mending, but mending with sashiko stitching.  Never mind that in June they got another famous designer to give us incomprehensible "advice" on how to mend jeans, now they're trying again, except this time we get a jacket for the pictures.  And never mind that in July, in a different section of the paper, they got a guy to teach us how to mend jeans with sashiko. 

I guess there's only so many good ideas that famous designers are able to come up with.

This week's advice comes from Sir Paul Smith, "known for his sharp suits and signature rainbow stripes," and who I suspect hasn't spent a lot of time actually mending anything.  But he did share with us that "In this day and age of excess and more, more, more, I am often reminded of my dear mom who always used to darn socks or elbow tears."  Seems that when Sir Paul would go to Japan in the 1980s he discovered quaintly mended old work garments, and brought samples home, and now wants to help us mend our duds with the same techniques.   

Illustrations from New York Times Style section























"Lay the garment flat on your working space," cut a patch "of material of your choice" with an inch and a half margin larger than the tear, and "pin the patch into place."  No guidance on how to lay the garment flat if the tear is on the elbow, as suggested by a later illustration, or whether the patch goes on top of the tear or underneath.  Not sure what the hands are doing in the corner of the illustration.

Anyway, you "start to stitch along the first seam of your patch."  Where's that?  More troubling, "make sure that the knot is on the inside of the patch for the first stitch and that it goes through both the garment and transplant patch."  Say again?  Surely they don't mean the knot goes through both the garment and the patch? Surely they mean the needle.  But wait -- if the knot is in between the two layers, how can the needle go through both layers?


Not to worry, the illustration shows you what to do.  Or does it?  Is that a knot in the middle of the patch?  Are we seeing the needle making three grabs and emerging under the left thumb?  What are the left fingers doing?  Looks like they're just underneath the patch and the stitching is going just through the patch.  Where's the jacket?  How do you hold onto the whole jacket while you're stitching the patch?  

Not to worry, the next illustration will clear things up.  Or does it?















Back to the stitching.  "The sashiko stitch can be a simple running stitch and can run horizontal or vertically."  (If you don't know what a running stitch is, maybe you can look it up online.) 

"Leave a slight gap (say, a quarter inch) between the stitches to create a warp and a weft."  Huh??  You might think a guy who has spent 50 years in the rag trade would know that warp and weft live in an entirely different ballpark from hand stitching.  

Skip a half inch and put another row of stitching, repeat till the patch is totally sewed on.  You can use a ruler if you want nice straight lines.  There are lots of sashiko patterns, we're told, and you can find them online. 

Now the beautiful watercolor of the finished project:


Hmmm.  How do you suppose they got the patch on the sleeve?  Especially since the first step is to lay the garment flat on the table?  Instead of those gauzy drawings of hands doing something to something in space, maybe it would help if the drawings showed how to do the tricky parts.  I wonder how many readers will stitch their elbow patch through both layers of the sleeve?


Friday, October 16, 2020

Last month on Art With a Needle -- Designer DIY

It's been a while since I caught up with the comments that you all have left on the blog.  

I've gotten many comments on my snarky remarks about the Designer DIY series in the New York Times, which has appeared on and off on Thursdays since springtime.  It disappeared for a few months in late summer, reappeared for two weeks this month, and then was AWOL this past week -- I hope for good. 

Shannon spoke for many of my readers when she said "the horribleness of these makes me think surely they are tongue-in-cheek, yet they seem so self-serious..."  Marilyn wrote: "I'm on a news fast this weekend, the news is so miserable, and this is a perfect antidote.  Funny!  Do you think anyone really makes these things?"

Several people snarked at the "ironic Amish" designer who would have us cut up pillowcases to make dresses.  Shasta wrote: "This is a good way to make clothes when you are under 9 and haven't figured out how to use the sewing machine yet.  I am still trying to figure out 'ironic.'  My nephew took my old TV for his dorm room because he said it was ironic."  LES wrote: "My parents were Amish as children, and I can tell you, that ain't Amish, ironic or not.  Pillowcase dresses are for 3-5 yr olds, not grown women.  Once again, thanks for the laughs!"

Rena wrote: "Thoroughly enjoyed your critique.  First gut-busting laugh this year.  Would be fun to see photos from NYT readers modeling their pillowcase creations..."

And yet... I got an email from my friend Susan who said, "But the truth is, when I was in my teens, and much scrawnier than now, I did make a few sleeveless summer dresses out of (not very worn) king sized pillow cases.  I opened up the seams at the top center and top of each side, and then used the seam allowances as facings for the boat neck and armholes... and they came pre-hemmed.  Thanks for the memories!"

Several readers have commented over the months of the Designer DIY feature that I could do the job better than the editor/writer.  I will modestly point out that it's much easier to make fun of the finished product than it no doubt was to wrangle articles out of prima donna designers who clearly have no idea of how to actually make something.  But thank you for your kind thoughts!  Norma wrote: "Kathy, I love reading your critiques of these articles.  Can there really be an editor that approves of these?"  Bea wrote:  "You might compile these blogs in a book and send to the Times?"

Bea, I'm way ahead of you.  During the summer I wrote a long message to Vanessa Friedman, the fashion editor of the Times, pointing out how lame this series has been.  I sent links to all the blog posts I had done to date and begged her to pull the plug on the series.  "If your purpose in this series is to win brownie points in the fashion community and give some designers a bit of free ink, then you have probably succeeded, especially among readers who don't actually try to do the projects.  But if your purpose is to give your readers projects they can succeed at and feel proud of, your are failing miserable," I wrote.  "I apologize for the snarky tone of these posts, but Ms. Friedman, you have certainly asked for it.  Properly executed, this could be a wonderful series.  But instead it's a laughingstock among people who know sewing, embroidery and crafts.  And probably it's a great disappointment among people who don't, and looked to you for guidance that didn't work." 

I suggested that she let people who know how to do handwork write the instructions, or "better yet, let somebody who does actual handwork come up with the ideas too, so you could present projects that are doable and attractive."

I received no response, of course.  I have spent a little time thinking about what kinds of projects I could dream up for housebound readers with little or no experience in sewing or working with fabric if indeed I were running this project.  Easier said than done, especially when you realize that most people out there, unlike you and me, don't possess fabric, needles, thread, embroidery hoops, pins, sewing machines or any of the huge array of stuff that makes our projects possible.  Nor can a lot of them sashay down to the local fabric store and stock up. 

So what projects would you recommend if you were in charge?

 

Friday, October 9, 2020

Designer DIY -- almost great!

I've gotten so used to mocking the Designer DIY feature in the New York Times that it's a big surprise to find one with not only a good idea but pretty good execution.  In fact, some useful hints that might help you in many other contexts of your art life.  This week's designer is Dries Van Noten, who only inches away from the DIY feature had a shout-out for this strange outfit, but we won't hold that against him.

Photo and drawings -- New York Times














Today you're going to take a cotton T shirt and paint it with flowers.  In contrast to the skimpy directions usually found in this series, you're given extensive guidance on how to tape paper onto your work table



















and how to put cardboard between the layers of the shirt so the paint doesn't bleed to the back.



















The part that I like is the hints on how to paint the flowers.  You should draw three circles on the shirt, and for the artistically challenged, he suggests where to put them.















Yes, the drawing has right and left confused, but never mind.  Here comes the good part.

"Starting at the end of the line closest to the circle, paint a curved line in a fluid motion toward the other end of the line to create one side of the flower petal.  Repeat this step on the other side of the line.  The flower petal outline should resemble an elongated raindrop."  After you have turned all the straight lines into petals, "use the long edge of the sponge brush (dipped in paint) to place straight lines sporadically around the flowers to illustrate the stalk, pistil and stamen of the flower."

Then you draw some leaves "around and between the flowers to the three separate flowers connect into one fluid design.  The leaves can extend onto the top shoulder and upper arm of the shirt."

The illustrations, as always in the Designer DIY series, don't help much, but they do seem to tell you to use a brush when painting the flowers.














I like this advice on how to arrange and paint flowers.   (Previous designers in this series would have kissed this off by saying "now paint beautiful flowers all over your shirt!")  I've drawn a bazillion flowers in my life, and this advice about first sketching the straight midline of each petal and only then putting the curved edges around it would have greatly improved most of them. 

But I have one serious complaint about this feature: what it says about the paint.  It calls for "dispersion paint, in any contrast color."  What is dispersion paint, you might ask, as I did.  I googled and discovered that it's water plus solid particles of pigment.  But the google page is ominous, including such phrases as "stabilization of a pigment dispersion requires time and energy" and "paint physical properties (rheology, stability flocculations...) etc." and "the pigment agglomerates are broken up by flocculation/deflocculation" and linking to websites like coatings.specialchem.com.  

I somehow suspect the average NYTimes reader who hasn't had any experience painting on fabric might wonder what this means, and more to the point, wonder if anything already lurking around the house would work or if they need to buy something.  And if so, what they should buy.

Unlike every other consumer product that I have ever googled, when I type in "dispersion paint," the top of the results page does NOT show me five products available from amazon.  Which leads me to suspect that "dispersion paint" is a phrase the designer ran into once in art school but has never had the occasion to actually purchase or use. 

If I were editing this feature, I would have cut back on the third drawing of a paint brush amid a sea of flowers and said something like: "Use fabric paint if you have it; it can be heat-set and then washed, and will leave your shirt soft and drapable.  If not, use regular acrylic paint sold for crafts or kids' art projects; your shirt will be a little stiffer and will probably do better with hand-washing.  In a pinch, use house paint, but understand that your shirt will be a lot stiffer and more susceptible to cracking.  Don't use tempera paint or anything described as washable."  But then, I'm not writing these features.

As always, the watercolor of the finished project looks beautiful.  This time I think some of the actual projects will look pretty good too. 




 


Thursday, October 1, 2020

Designer DIY -- for your vacation

Today's Designer D.I.Y. in the New York Times tells us how to make "A Vacation Accessory With a French Attitude."  I'm not planning any vacations in the near future, but maybe you are, so faites attention!  This week we're going to make a handbag from a square of fabric, as directed by Roland Mouret, apparently famous for this dress, this year's model of which you can get for $2650.  














Mouret used denim cut-offs for his 20-inch square of fabric but if you aren't willing to repurpose your pants, "a thick cotton-like denim works particularly well." (I wonder what cotton-like denim is really made of.)  No mention of how to cut the square if you are indeed using your pants, because where the seam falls will have some effect on the ease of construction.  But you'll certainly figure it out after your first square doesn't work.

A hallmark of the NYTimes series has always been confusing directions, and this installment does not disappoint.  Follow along, if you can:  "Lay your fabric square flat.  Taking two diagonally opposite corners, fold toward the middle with a significant overlap until a point is created at one of the remaining corners.  The fabric will now be in the shape of a kite.  Knot the corner of the fabric where the point has been created."

Illustrations from New York Times Thursday Styles

If you're a bit lost, consult the diagram.  Hmmm.  What do you see in the diagram?  If you're "taking two opposite corners," why are the two hands holding adjacent corners?  Which of the remaining corners is making the point?  Are you making a point from the corner in the left hand or the right hand?  Where is the kite shape?  Why are you folding the fabric in the first place?  If you want a point in one corner, why not just grab it and let the rest of the fabric hang?  

The next diagram shows you how to tie a knot.  Or gives an approximate impression of tying a knot, because it's not very clear what is what in this drawing.  But it's pretty.

Moving right along, now you repeat to make a point and knot in the opposite corner from the first one.  "This will be slightly more difficult now that the other corner is already knotted," the Times says, presumably because the knot somehow interferes with the unnecessary folding into an unnecessary kite shape.

Almost finished.  Now you take the two other corners and knot them together, if you can figure out how to make points without kite-shaped folding first.  (If you've forgotten how to tie a knot, here's another diagram.) 
























"An optional step here is to place a foam or cardboard rectangle at the bottom of the bag to create a flat base.  If you wish, you can glue the base into place."  Hold on. Good luck on getting a piece of cardboard with glue on one side into the already knotted bag.  If you want a base, you really should have done it well before "here," shouldn't you?  Like before the first knot?  No hint on how big to cut the rectangle or how to place it on the big square, but here's where you get to be creative. 

Finally, you need a "heavy link chain or several long necklaces" for a handle.  Thread it or them through the knots at the two ends.  No guidance on how to do this, although "using a chain with a jewelry clasp is easiest as it will allow you to thread through the knots before closing the chain."  The only illustration of the finished bag, however, shows no clasp, just a single length of chain.  No hint on how to keep the ends of the chain from coming out of the knots.  No hint on what to do if you used "several long necklaces."  Be creative again.

You're done!  Mouret says the bag would go well "with wide leg trousers and a one-shoulder silk top for an al fresco drink with friends."  

Saturday, September 26, 2020

Designer DIY returns!!

I know many of you, like I, have been bereft since the New York Times pulled the plug on its weekly Designer D.I.Y. feature.  Without it, how could we get ideas for how to produce sloppy, ramshackle low-tech craft items to adorn our bodies and homes?  If so, you will be happy to learn that D.I.Y is back in this week's issue, and it's every bit up to its previous standards.

This week's designer is Batsheva Hay, known for her "post-male-gaze prairie dress, an aesthetic that could perhaps be best described as ironic Amish."  I'm not sure what that means, but here's an example:






















You will note that this dress is not one you would whip out on the sewing machine in a half hour.  It appears to be carefully made with standard garment-sewing techniques, which you would probably expect from a $400 outfit.  Hold that thought while we go to this week's project.

You're going to make yourself a dress out of your stash of "vintage Laura Ashley and Ralph Lauren pillowcases."  Batsheva explains that as a kid, she was showed by mom how to cut up old pillowcases that got holes in them.  

(I will pause for a minute to ask you how many pillowcases you have ever owned that got holes in them.  Sheets, yes, at the pressure points of toes and hands-grasping-below-the-chin, but pillowcases?  Perhaps her household was different.)

So assuming you have an old pillowcase lying around, you can turn it into a top.  It's easy -- and needle and thread are optional!






















First make sure your pillowcase is wide enough to go around your torso.  I would recommend a tape measure, not a mirror.  I say this after more than one garment that looked like it fit in the store but didn't.  If it isn't big enough, get a second pillowcase, slice them both open on a side seam and sew them together "to your desired fit."






















Now spread the case out on the table and "with the scissors, cut a neckline at the center of the closed end that's large enough to fit your head through.  Cut lines at the top of the left and right sides of the pillowcase large enough for your arms."

The second drawing shows how to hold a scissors, which may be helpful for some readers.

What do you want to bet that some people following these "directions" will (a) cut the neck hole too big, (b) cut the neck hole too small, (c) cut the front neckline too high or the back neckline too low, (d) cut the armholes to different lengths, and/or (e) not have the slightest idea how to get shoulder seams into the two-pillowcase combo that anybody with hip measurement more than 36" had to make?

If you didn't do any of the above, good news, "The top is basically finished."  But wait, if you want you can "sew the neck and arm holes neatly with a needle and thread or leave them raw, because that looks good, too."  Not sure exactly what you're doing when sewing the holes neatly -- overcasting? hemming? embroidering? but I'm sure people will figure out something.  (At least one person will probably sew the holes shut and then wonder why she can't put the top on.)

Hey, you can also add embellishments like buttons or trim!  

If that hasn't fulfilled your fashion wishes, Batsheva has another good idea -- add a skirt.  You can take another pillowcase, slit open the entire top end, step into it and pull it "up to where you would like it to rest, near your waist."  The designer, we're told parenthetically, "likes the skirt positioned a bit askew."  I think her wish will be amply fulfilled by the readers who get this far.

All drawings and photos from New York Times






"Using several safety pins, attach the two pillowcases together at the waist, adding a safety pin every inch or so, pinning all the way around."  

Do you worry that perhaps this "dress" will develop a few more holes the first time you try to sit down?  Especially since the safety pins aren't even positioned horizontally to get two pierces of the fabric instead of one?

Or perhaps you worry that if you wear this dress in public you will look like a 1930s urchin straight out of a cabin up the holler? 


The gauzy watercolor illustration of the dress looks pretty classy.  I suspect the actual dress, not so much.

Personally, I'd rather keep those vintage pillowcases as pillowcases, especially since you'll never be able to buy such good quality linens again at ten times what you paid for them back in the day.

Friday, July 24, 2020

NYTimes strikes again


I love the New York Times.  We've subscribed to home delivery for decades and I couldn't live without its news coverage.  Not to mention its art and music coverage and its editorial columnists and its wonderful photography and its puzzles.  So it really pains me when they drop the ball, over and over, to the extent that I have to make fun of them in this blog.

Such as this spring and summer, when the editors have been desperately reaching for ideas to help people occupy themselves during pandemic quarantine.  I loved to hate their series on Designer D.I.Y.  and so did a lot of you.  Earlier this week, when I snarked a recent NYT article on how to mend jeans with sashiko stitching, one of you commented: "The real mending is called boro."

Gail commented: "In my long experience mending jeans, it's NOT the patch that needs strengthening, it's the thinning jeans fabric around the hole.  I'm going to guess this guy "mends" his jeans not out of need, but rather to make fashiony statements.  As one whose family wore out (still does!) many pair of jeans doing real physical work, the fake wear and repairs just hits me all the wrong way.  Is this where I put in a Harumph! and Get off my lawn!?"

Our running feud with Designer D.I.Y. got passed along to Susan Lenz Dingman, an artist in South Carolina who is one of my online acquaintances from way back.  She wrote me to tell about her recent run-in with the Times' do-it-yourself obsession.  You should know that Susan has made a lot of "vessels" consisting of some cord and a bazillion machine stitches to sculpt and hold everything in place. She writes:

"Last week I received an email from a photo editor at The New York Times.  She found my fiber vessels on the Philadelphia Museum of Art Craft Show's website featuring last year's accepted artists.  She thought they were woven and would make a great DIY "basket" project for the Sunday 'At Home' print edition.  This series of articles is apparently about using actual pages of the newspaper and ordinary things found around an average household.  Her message included links to past projects, including instructions for folding a spread of the newspaper into an envelope and another for coiling strips of the newspaper into decorative paper beads.

"I knew at once that there were problems.

"First, my fiber vessels aren't woven.  I don't weave, never have.  Second, the process is rather laborious.  Third, even though I have written a free online tutorial for making my fiber vessels, the instructions can't be simplified into a neat, four or five step process.  Yet... this was an email from THE NEW YORK TIMES.  I was personally floored that anyone from such a prestigious publication would have found me.  I didn't want to write back with a simple NO.

"Immediately my husband Steve went to our local grocery store and came back with two copies of last Wednesday's edition.  Within twenty-four hours, I managed to create a fiber vessel.  I blogged about it HERE.  My response to the photo editor's message included images and a nicely phrased suggestion that my work is available should the newspaper ever want to feature work by artists who have incorporated their newspaper.  She was impressed but asked if I couldn't figure out a simple woven basket using strips of the newspaper. Politely, I declined, citing my inability in weaving as an excuse.  Yet, in the back of my mind I thought to myself, 'Susan, so you really want to have your name in The New York Times for a silly, simple DIY project that looks like an elementary school craft project?'  My answer to myself was another NO.

Susan Lenz Dingman, "Black & White and Read All Over: The New York Times"
"I am writing today mostly to say THANK YOU!  Your blog posts confirmed my suspicious regarding this odd opportunity.  I'm glad I didn't attempt to figure out something appropriate!"

Meanwhile, at today's breakfast table my husband pointed out a NYT feature for kids, in which they're supposed to get points for doing various virtual activities with their best friend, such as writing a letter, reading a book together or watching the same movie together/apart.  They're supposed to check off when they do an activity, and keep a running total in the corner.

Let's hope there's a white gel pen at hand to do that checking.


Monday, July 20, 2020

More DIY from the Times


I was kind of disappointed to see, a couple of weeks ago, that the NYTimes had discontinued its weekly Designer D.I.Y. series of articles on pathetic fashion craft projects.  It was so much fun to make fun of them!  But somebody must have picked up on my unhappiness, because here's a new pathetic advice feature in yesterday's Times.  This one's in the Sunday Magazine instead of in the styles section, so some other editor is responsible.

The Magazine has been in the habit for a long time of providing a very short "Tip" every week.  Usually the Tips are for how to do things that nobody actually wants or has occasion to do -- for instance, how to survive a tsunami, how to dig up a grave, how to grow hemp, how to herd reindeer, how to toss a pizza, how to wheat-paste posters, how to catch a swarm of bees.  But this week it's right up our alley -- how to mend a pair of jeans.

illustration by Radio for NYTimes Sunday Magazine























Most of this little article is a paean to a guy who grew up in Japan, "a descendant of many generations of experts in a kind of decorative needlework called sashiko" and is now doing it for a living in Pennsylvania. How sashiko is so beautiful, how many patterns there are, how this guy has found meaning in his family heritage in sashiko and "has spent hundreds of hours covering jeans he owns in stitches patterns to make them stronger."

Then there's your actual how-to tip.  There's a supply list: sashiko thread, a thimble and "a two-inch-long needle with a small eye."  There's a direction: cut a denim patch bigger than the hole.  Now "stitch all over the patch first to make the fabric stronger."  Digression on how to transfer sashiko patterns to the fabric (washable pen or carbon tracing paper).

Finally, "place your patch on the inside of your jeans and sew the two together."  Do not do this on a T-shirt.  (No danger, since you told us in the headline that we're mending jeans.)

That's it.

Hmmm.  As one who has mended dozens if not hundreds of pairs of jeans and other pants, I take issue with this process instruction.  First off, if I were going to mend a pair of jeans I would not bother doing sashiko all over the patch first.  After it's on the pants, maybe.

Second, I would not obsess over precise transfer and execution of a sashiko pattern to my patch, unless I were a guy who wants to make a living off his ancestral craft and enroll you in a workshop to learn same

Third, if I had put beautiful sashiko stitching onto a patch I would for sure sew it to the front of my jeans, not the inside where people would only see the little bit of it visible through the hole.

Fourth, if I didn't know how to mend jeans (otherwise why would I be reading an article entitled "How to Mend A Pair of Jeans") I would probably feel cheated when the directions told me "sew the two together" and left the hard part to me to figure out.

The takeaway: again, the New York Times proves that it loves the concept of people doing craft at home, but hasn't a clue as to how to guide them toward actually doing it.

Thursday, July 2, 2020

Designer DIY -- MIA


It's Thursday, so I went straight to the Styles section of the New York Times this morning to find the new Designer D.I.Y. article and -- it wasn't there!

Maybe Vanessa Friedman, the Times fashion editor, read the message I posted on Sunday to the "reader feedback" site and was so mortified that she instantly pulled the plug on the series.  Or maybe they ran out of designers willing to spend 15 minutes cooking up a lame craft project in return for some free publicity.

Either way, our loss of silliness to make fun of is the world's gain.

Saturday, June 27, 2020

New low in Designer DIY


I didn't think it could get much worse, but this week's installment of Designer D.I.Y. in the New York Times takes kissoff to new lows.  This time the featured designer is Rick Owens, whose professional focus is menswear and shoes but who comes up with a feminine project for you to make -- a handkerchief embroidered with your own hair.  Owens, a long-haired guy, reveals that when his friends had children, he would make them baby blankets, embroidered in his own "signature raven locks" with the babies' initials.  Not sure what you would like to do with the hankie after you embroider somebody's initials on it, but here goes.

Your materials and supplies include a 35 x 35" silk hankie, embroidery hoop, thimble, three long strands of your own hair, and a Clover gold-eye embroidery needle in size 3-9.  (I get the impression that our famous designer thinks 3-9 is a size, rather than seven different sizes that usually come in one package.) 

I guess it's your choice whether you want a big fat needle or a skinny little one, but use a John James or Dritz at your own risk.  That's one big mother of a handkerchief -- personally I would call it a scarf -- but if you're feeling adventurous I suppose you could use something smaller.  Or cotton.

Now comes the part of the directions that I am embarrassed to even describe to you, so I'm going to just reproduce the info you're supposed to print out and save.  This is so over-the-top that even the NYTimes seems to be a bit embarrassed, writing "Though the baroque atmospherics of the instructions below are not required (Mr. Owens may have been, as he wrote, on magic mushrooms when he composed them), it probably helps to be in some kind of swoon while you sew."

How adorable.  When you're done gagging, follow along:

















illustrations from New York Times Styles section






















Now that we might need some actual guidance on how to proceed -- such as how to put the handkerchief in the embroidery hoop so you can work on the corner -- the directions fail us.  (Spoiler alert: you can't.)

illustration from New York Times Styles section






















No picture of the embroidery hoop in action, but here's a helpful picture of three strands of hair in your hand and then in the needle.  Because "using a single strand will take forever."  (I don't understand this smartass comment, because it seems like using a single strand will take exactly the same time as using three, except the line won't be as heavy.)

Now "slip on a thimble and start embroidering the initials of the one you love." 

Don't know how to embroider?  That's your tough luck.  Owens does warn us that "this could very well take all day."

Can we all agree to skip this week's project and wait for the next one?

Saturday, June 20, 2020

DIY fashion -- the kissoff edition


I know you've been waiting for the new Designer D.I.Y. from the New York Times.  After several weeks of just dumb ideas, the Times has apparently changed its focus to good ideas executed poorly.  (As a reminder, last week the directions on how to decoratively patch your jeans were so lame that we surmised people would resolve never to take up needle and thread again.)

This week, another decent idea; this time it's not the quality of the directions that's low, but the quality of the materials and technique.

The idea, courtesy of jewelry designer Irene Neuwirth, is to make a necklace with painted paper flowers.  I checked out Neuwirth's website and this appears to be the necklace that inspired the project.  If you can't afford $43,900 for the original, with flowers carved from semiprecious stones, you can now make a lookalike for only about 4.39 cents, assuming you have some paints on hand.

Irene Neuwirth





















Draw some flowers on "plain white paper" and paint them, each one different in size and color.  Let the paint dry.  Cut out the flowers.

New York Times Styles section























Cut a 30-inch length of ribbon, twine "or something similar."  Arrange the flowers on the ribbon and fasten them on with double-sided tape.  Tie the ribbon in a bow behind your neck.

New York Times Styles section

Now wasn't that easy?  Neuwirth tells the Times she made hers in three hours "with pauses to take the dogs out, sit in the yard, answer emails."  (We can tell.)

Now wasn't that a kissoff?  Isn't it going to look more like a Brownie troop project than something an actual adult might wear?

I can think of how you could use the identical project plan and make something quite nice, as throwaway fashion goes.  First, you could use better paper.  Even housebound NYTimes readers might be able to find index cards or the back of a greeting card or a piece of high-class junk mail to paint on.

Second, you could put some kind of finish on the flowers to make them a bit more sturdy and stain-resistant.  Most people don't have matte medium lying around, but they could dilute some Elmer's white glue and paint it on.

Third, what's with the double-sided tape?  How many people have double-sided tape lying around, as compared to regular single-sided tape?  More important, how much sticking power does a one-eighth-inch-wide piece of double-sided tape have?  (Because if you use a piece any wider than that, it's far more likely to affix itself to your dress than to affix the flower to the ribbon/twine.)

Wouldn't it be easier to use single-sided tape and just whap an inch-long piece across the back of the flower to hold it to the ribbon/twine?  Or wouldn't it be much nicer to paint twice as many flowers and glue them back-to-back with the ribbon/twine in between the layers?  You could even glue a layer of cereal box in between for a really sturdy necklace that wouldn't fall apart the first time you wore it.

If you're lucky enough to be the arts-and-crafts leader of a Brownie troop, this project might be a great idea.  If you're looking for a fast do-it-yourself project to perk up your wardrobe, I'd recommend spending three hours cleaning out your closet instead.  You might find something cute that you haven't worn in a while.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

DIY fashion of the week


I know you've been waiting for the New York Times Designer D.I.Y. and today's is a big change -- it's an idea that actually might lead to some decent home craft.  That is, if you already know how to sew, and thus would not need the "directions" supplied in the story.

This week's famous designer is Todd Snyder, who makes "torqued all-American classics," whatever that means.  (Maybe the sleeves are all twisted between the shoulder and the cuff -- I made a shirt like that once....)

His idea is to sew patches on your jeans!  Functional, and totally original!!

Here's how you do it.  Todd, the story reveals, "dusted off my old sewing machine -- the same one I used in college to make shirts, and I used it to patch some jeans."  But the directions mostly show you how to do it by hand.  You should cut your patch from an old shirt, boxer shorts or bandanna, and make it at least an extra inch bigger on all sides so you can turn the edges under.

I think we're all with him so far, but then comes an offhand remark, "Place a matching piece of fabric on the inside of the patched area for reinforcement.  Affix the two patches to the jeans with straight pins to hold them in place."

As the 50-year proprietor of a three-male household, I have probably mended a hundred times more holes in pants than Todd Snyder has, and even I have to think twice about how to get that bottom-layer patch in place before sewing.  Especially when using a machine.  If you want the layers of fabric to properly enclose the hole and reinforce the mend, and lie neatly in place, you probably should stitch the bottom patch on first, then place the top one where it belongs.  Even if you're feeling bold and want to do them at the same time, it's going to be tricky to get them both in the right place, and "affix with straight pins" doesn't quite cover it in my opinion.

Anyway, let's say you get everything pinned in place.  Now it's time to sew.  "Using a whipstitch every quarter of an inch, or with a sewing machine, sew around the perimeter of the patch."  What is a whipstitch, you might ask, and the drawing shows you:

illustration from New York Times Styles section























Hmmm... what exactly are you looking at?  There are three horizontal lines in the drawing.  Presumably one is the folded edge of the patch.  What are the other two?  The drawing makes it look like you're sewing onto the edge of the jeans, which is obviously not what is supposed to happen.  No, actually it looks like you're supposed to insert your needle between layer two and layer three...  huh?  Anyway, let's be optimistic and assume that you figure it out.

Wait, what about that patch on the back side of the jeans?  Are you supposed to catch that in the whipstitch too?  (Good luck on that part, even having affixed it with straight pins.)  Let's be optimistic and assume that you figure THAT out too.

The directions for this step conclude:  "Don't worry: the sloppier the better." (This is the part of the directions that guaranteed, will be followed most accurately.)

OK, now to the fun part.  "Using the same technique as above..."  (above where?  you mean whipstitching?)  "...stitch back and forth across the patch in parallel lines."   Here's the helpful drawing:

illustration from New York Times Styles section























Hmmm... the top drawing makes it look like we're still whipstitching the patch onto the jeans, which I thought we had finished in step 3, but what is that double row of stitching to the left?  Where did that come from?  And whoa -- what are those fancy stitches in the bottom drawing???  How in heck would you go about making them if you wanted to?  .....Crap -- NOW you tell me to knot the thread?????

illustration from New York Times Styles section























And how great are these stitches going to look executed in sewing thread, which is the only stuff called for in the supply list?

Oh well, at least they didn't show us a drawing of putting both sides of the pants leg into an embroidery hoop, the way they did when they showed us how to embroider socks a couple of weeks ago.

In mocking previous articles in this series I have thought that the designer idea was dumb to begin with, but in this week's installment I am just sad that a perfectly excellent idea -- patching your clothes -- was given such a kissoff treatment.  These have to be the most feeble and confusing "directions" I've read in a long time, compounded by the kissoff illustrations that not only don't show the right way but seem to show the wrong way.

I suspect that 99 percent of the people reading this blog post could easily put a decorative patch on their pants despite the crappy "directions" in this article, but you're not the people the New York Times is presumably trying to reach.  Giving directions to people who have never tried a technique requires a lot more precision than the fashion-drawing style, which shows the ambiance but not the detail.  This is the place for photographs, not watercolor or pencil sketches.

I find it pathetic that the only one of the Designer D.I.Y. articles to use photography in its step-by-step directions was the one that showed us how to cut up beets.

 New York Times Styles section











Thursday, June 4, 2020

Bad DIY fashion of the week


Good news!  It's Thursday, so we get another installment in the New York Times Designer D.I.Y. Series.  You will be happy to know that for the fifth week in a row, the great newspaper has maintained its quality standards in finding designers who will provide silly ideas and incomprehensible directions, guaranteed to nip readers' sewing/crafting impulses in the bud.

This week we're making a tote bag out of a linen or cotton dish towel, because "we have so many dish towels around and are always in need of reusable totes that we can also use as storage."  So says Laura Mulleavy, half of the design team Rodarte.

First we fold the dish towel in half, sew a Y-shaped pleat in the bottom to make a floor, and sew up the sides.  So far so good; the illustrations even show us how to do this, even that we should do this "so that the inside is on the outside."  When we're done sewing, they tell us to "invert the bag," which I guess means turn it right-side out.

Now comes the hard part -- handles.  We need "two costume jewelry necklaces, like the plastic beaded kind that are handed out at Mardi Gras, or one chain-link plastic necklace."  Step one: "Fold each necklace in half."

illustration from New York Times Styles section



The illustration, beautifully pencil-sketched, doesn't give much guidance on how we do this, since we can't tell what's happening.  Is that one thickness of necklace or has it already been folded?  Does the half-link on the right indicate that the necklace actually extends out of the picture?  What do the arrows show?  What if you started with one necklace instead of two Mardi Gras strings?  Beats me.

illustration from New York Times Styles section
Step two:  "Cut a ribbon in four pieces, each piece four inches long.  Loop each ribbon through each of the four ends in the two lengths of necklace..."

(I don't know about you, but I had to read that direction four times to figure out what was going on.  Again, the illustration didn't help, because you can't see exactly where the ribbon is going, nor can you see what happens offstage to the left after the necklace disappears from the pictures.  What has happened between picture 1 and picture 2?  And I still have no idea what to do it I started with one necklace instead of two.)

Now we stitch the ribbon loops to the top of the tote bag and we're done!!  The drawing shows only the most impressionistic idea of what it's supposed to look like, except don't you suppose a dishtowel with no reinforcement along the top edges is going to droop down past the handles instead of sticking out so crisply?  It does seem to go well with the dress and hairdo, which is pretty much what I'm wearing during quarantine.

illustration from New York Times Styles section























I couldn't find any Mardi Gras beads in my stash so I couldn't test out how much weight the cord can handle without breaking, but I suspect not much.  Even without actual beads I can easily imagine how those "handles" are going to slip and slide around, and how easily the folded-in-half string of beads is going to become one tight strand stretching from loop to loop and one very long strand drooping off to the side.

I was interested in how the Times has used fashion-type illustration for four of the five articles in this series, even though this style of drawing is lousy for how-to directions.  With the right artistic style, drawings can do an excellent job of showing people how to do things -- like this example from David Coffin's great book "Shirtmaking" -- but they have to show the details clearly, not gauze them over.























If the purpose of this series is to showcase prominent fashion designers and make them appear all warm-and-fuzzy helpful and concerned, then perhaps it is a great success.  If the purpose is to make the New York Times appear all warm-and-fuzzy helpful and concerned, then ditto.  If the purpose is to encourage quarantined readers who may have never done a craft project before to pick up a needle and thread and make something fun and useful, then I think it's a total failure.


Thursday, May 28, 2020

More bad DIY fashion ideas


Today is Thursday, which means it's time for another well-meaning article in the New York Times Designer DIY feature, in which big names in fashion share silly ideas for people to try at home.  I neglected to bring you up to date on last week's feature, so that one first...

Emily Bode, a young luxury menswear designer who "expresses a sentimentality for the past through the study of personal narratives and historical techniques... with female-centric traditions of quilting, mending and applique," teaches us how to fix up a white T shirt to give to your sweetie.  First find some thread.  "This is a great time to use all of the pre-threaded needles from those miniature hotel mending kits," she says.

Now stitch (loosely, so the shirt can stretch when he puts it on) around the edges of the cuffs, collar and hem.  Add a cute heart and writing, if you want.  "There's no experience in sewing necessary.  The more homemade and messy, the better," she advises.

illustration: New York Times Thursday Styles section






















Well, not to worry, I suspect every single shirt made from these directions will be messy.  Starting with the choice of thread. Two strands of sewing thread, stitched loosely around the neckline, are really going to make a statement.  (And unless you were in the habit of spending five night a week on the road in your pre-pandemic job, lifting hotel mending kits right and left, what are you going to use when you run out of them?)

I particularly liked the fact that they illustrated step 5:  wash your T shirt to remove the pencil marks.  Without that picture, I would have been lost.

illustration: New York Times Thursday Styles section






















But enough kvetching about last week's project.  Today's project uses a T shirt again, but this time to tie-dye it.  Our designer-guide is Hillary Taymour, who treats "sustainability as something everyone can practice every day."  We're told she has been using tie-dye in her collections for two years, but I would bet money that she doesn't do it the way she advises the readers -- to use beets and turmeric as the dyestuffs.

I checked out what some highly googled websites had to say about using beets for dyeing.  What I discovered was that the amateur and mass-media craft sites love them -- beautiful color!!! -- but the people who know a lot about dyeing don't, because the color is notoriously fugitive.  In fact, because of that, beets made the list of  "Top Five Plants to Never Use for Natural Dyes" on Wearing Woad, a site that reeks of technical competence.  Turmeric's reputation isn't much better.  But that shouldn't stop our stir-crazy quarantined readers, because they'll add "a splash" of vinegar to the beets to "help your dye hold pigment."

photo: New York Times Thursday Styles section
Interesting to note that in this fifth installment in the Designer D.I.Y series, the Times has switched from gauzy watercolor or pencil illustrations to actual photos.  One shows you how to cut up the beets.  Six of them show you how to fold the shirt into a rectangular package, one shows how to bundle it with rubber bands.  Then you spoon on the yellow dye, and dunk into the red dye.

photo: New York Times Thursday Styles section
























Let the bundle sit for ten minutes before opening, then lay it flat to dry, and "it'll be ready for you to wear the next morning."

Smelling of vinegar.

And kind of wrinkly.

I hope everybody who makes this T shirt enjoys wearing it once or twice.  Maybe they'll hit a sweet spot after one or two washes, when the vinegar smell will have disappeared, and the dye won't have disappeared quite yet.