Blanket coat

When I found the plans for this coat, I was quite excited. Apparently, it is one of the oldest known designs of coat, with records back to medieval times (although a quick bit of online research didn't divulge anything older than the 1800's!).

More impressively, it is literally made from a blanket (or any equally large rectangle of fabric), and involves only three cuts! Or that's what the pattern said.
Being fair, that is fundamentally true - as long as you don't add any extras such as a collar or pockets (which I did), and provided your original measurements give enough fabric to make full length sleeves (which mine didn't). Overall, this coat has proved to be far more complicated and time-consuming than I ever planned for. However, please don't be put off from giving it a try. Those complications were all of my own doing.

For example, apart from the addition of collar and pockets (seen strategically placed in these pictures), I decided to complicate my piece by lining it. I thought that by flat-lining it, I would be keeping this simple. Having the lining stitched with the main fabric as one whole piece would require some additional tacking, but that was all. Those are the stitches you can see in yellow - later to be removed rather than a funky design feature!

Fabric-wise I opted for a rather beautiful piece of purple wool that has been in the stash for so long I'm not quite sure where it came from. I'm going to attribute it to "granny's stash", but it might have been a hand-down from my Mum.
For the lining I thought I would try a bit of colour-blocking, going bold with piece of turquoise satin that had originally been bought (and used) as a prop for a show. Oh what a mistake! The colour is beautiful, and just right, but the fabric frays every time I so much as look at it.
With the nature of the cutting and stitching, it seemed a bit too complicated to overlock everything. I resolved to stitch each seam with a rather decorative series of two straight seams and a zig-zag seam to try and compensate. Time-consuming, fiddly, and ultimately only partially successful. Very pretty though.

Then I had a slight hiccup with the length of the sleeves. When I measured (which I did by myself!), I did so with straight, outstretched arms. I'm sure most of you are screaming at your computers right now, but I did not realise my mistake until I had sewn on the collar and folded over the top panel to form the sleeves. Having carefully completed my decorative seams, I tried on the coat to find that the sleeves only came half way down my arms. The air was thick with expletives that day! Note to self: always measure arms/shoulders with arms bent and hanging - this allows the extra fabric required for movement.

To solve this self-made complication, I added extended cuffs with the satin outer-most. I used the technique I had gained when examining the turn-ups on the trousers I adapted ("From flares to "with flare" "). I'm quite proud that I managed to use the technique again so soon, and the resulting cuffs give an interesting kimono-type feature to the coat. Phew! Problem solved.






I un-stitched the tacking along the hem so that I could attach the pockets. This meant they are stitched only onto the outer fabric, and not through the lining as well. That's one of those unseen details that gives me quiet satisfaction.


 And finally, it was just a case of adding the fastenings. I found two large green-ish buttons and two small turquoise buttons in my button box. I opted to have the large buttons as external fastenings, and the smaller ones inside to help the coat hold it's shape.

I'm quite pleased with the finished result. As is common for me, I have manged to finish it just in time for the warm weather to arrive! Sad to say I'll probably have to hide it in the back of the wardrobe until the seasons change - but then again, this is England, and anything could happen!
Hx

Blackwork - my stitching meditation

Needlework appeals to me intermittently. I've become absorbed by cross stitch on occasion. However, the life of a self-employed entertainer can take up a lot of time. As any self-employed person will tell you, you can end up working far more hours than a regular employee, and time consuming hobbies can end up taking a back seat!

So the immobility enforced on me by my illness gave me the opportunity to revisit the joy of needlework. I discovered a new form of needlework I hadn't encountered before - blackwork.

The History blurb

I've researched a bit (mostly because I was trying to find out how to do it, but also to find out why it was called "blackwork" when it is done in any colour!), and I find the history quite interesting.

Known to date from the 15th/16th Centuries, blackwork seems to have grown from a desire to have lace decoration on clothing. Lace was extremely expensive and hard to access, so a technique of reverse running stitch in geometric designs was used. It's benefits were that it looked the same on both sides of the fabric, and if stitched in black thread gave the impression of lace but at a fraction of the price.

Blackwork is also known as Spanishwork, having been believed to have come to Britain from Spain with Catherine of Aragon (she who is better known for being that rare breed, a spouse of Henry VIII who lived to tell the tale!)

Blackwork is also known as Holbein stitch - but this has nothing to do with the artist's abilities with a needle! This alternative name stems from the painter Holbein depicting detailed illustrations of clothing in his oil-paintings. Art enthusiasts can check out collars and cuffs in his paintings to find examples.

The variations in colour came later, presumably from the monotony of only ever working with black thread! These in turn developed and spawned "redwork" and "goldwork" (but not "whitework", which is formed of completely different techniques)

For further reading about the history and ideas of designs, check out:

http://stitchedupbyphoenix.co.uk/history-of-blackwork-embroidery

http://www.theblackworkguild.com/HISTORY-MEMBERS.html

The technique

Actually the technique is very simple. If you take the basic "in, out" of running stitch going from left to right, you get...

_  _  _  _  _  _  _  _  _  _

But if, when you reach the end of the line, you come back with a running stitch that fills in the gaps ("out, in"), your line becomes solid. I've shown it here with left to right stitches in black, and right to left stitches in red. Of course, in reality they would all be in the same colour.

___________________

Fiendishly simple! But also extremely boring if all you ever do is straight lines. Where blackwork becomes intricate, and indeed where it gathers it's beauty, is from the ingenious changes of direction that develop it's elaborate patterns.

The pieces
The first piece I did started out as an experiment in working different stitches, and rapidly turned into a banner sampler. I guess I was creating a sampler for exactly the same reason that our ancestors used to make them - as a record of how to do certain stitches. I love the concept that things we look at as pure decoration now, were essential records in the days before computers, photographs or photocopies!

I quite liked the fact that I had completed it all in one colour, despite protestations from hubby who felt that it should have a greater variety.

The "Snowy Rooftops in Prague" shown at the top of this post was where my inspiration took me with the technique. I saw a black-and-white photo in a magazine of the scene, and it seemed the perfect match for this style. To be honest, it is a bit of a cheat!
First of all, if it were true blackwork, it would all be worked in a single colour - not necessarily black, as I have already mentioned. I used four colours for this piece - black, white, and two shades of grey. It's less authentic than using the stitching to create all the shading, but it worked for me.
Secondly (cardinal sin, this one), as I couldn't work out how to create it purely from counting the threads, I drew the picture on the back of the canvas. Yes, I know! I can hear the purists out there tutting at me. It meant I was able to create the picture, though. (Strictly speaking it also means that all the buildings are back-to-front, but no-one has noticed that yet....)

More importantly at the time, I discovered this was one of the few things I could actually do at the height of my illness. When your body is throwing all the symptoms of anxiety attacks at you, all you can do is lie still and focus on your breathing. When you've been doing this for a few hours, it starts to get frustrating. Following the patterns of blackwork stitches was not only something I could do without having to stand, or even sit up, but it became quite therapeutic. Concentrating on these simple yet intricate designs became a form of meditation for me, as well as placating my sense of guilt at staying still for so long.

So, when I later resolved to quit smoking (successfully, I am proud to report) blackwork seemed like the ideal distraction whenever I craved a cigarette. It worked!

Firstly I experimented with using the shading of blackwork stitches to form a rose design. It didn't quite work, but then I was using a cross-stitch pattern. Technically, I did it properly this time, by counting the stitches rather than drawing the design. I think it failed because I didn't have enough contrast between the stitches to give the shading, and because the design was too small. Shading with stitches that are only one square of Aida fabric wide is simply too tricky! But every failure is a step towards perfection....







I then played with a couple of designs I'd found - one for daisies and one for lilies. The two were separate designs, but I combined them to change the shape of the final piece.


Having been quite inspired by this, I went online to seek images of and patterns for blackwork. There are thousands! I've gathered a few that I would like to try in the future, but I've overwhelmed myself a little. The images have to sit in my "ideas" notebook for a while, until I'm ready to commit to working on them. This is quite common for creative types, I believe - ideas need to ripen before we can produce them effectively. Good thing I have lots of pages in my notebook!

H.x

My history

I'm lucky. I come from a loving, supportive and inspiring  family. But I became very aware that all the "family history" stories were based around the men. Don't get me wrong, the men in my family are great, but I got to thinking about how great and how unsung the family's women are.

My maternal grandmother was a true matriarch. She ruled her family with a iron will, but also with a velvet glove. She was strong, determined and always loving. From her I inherited my commitment to try and do things right.

My paternal grandmother was a court seamstress. Sadly she became crippled with arthritis, but somehow she managed to continue being creative. I knew her too late to experience the full flow of her skills, but I still own and treasure a number of her creations, both finished and incomplete. From her I inherited my crafting skills - and probably also my temptation to begin a new project before finishing the last!

My mother is a truly wonderful woman. She is devoted, hard-working, talented, level-headed, reliable, loving, clever and has an indomitable energy to keep experiencing life. I can't list the qualities I have inherited from her - they are too numerous. I have  many of her good qualities, and some of the bad ones too - and I am eternally grateful.

For the whole of my life I wanted to be an actress. I had lots of hobbies and interests, but my career choice never faltered. In 2001 I discovered my dream job, and have been working as a clown entertaining children in hospitals since then. I work for an amazing charity called Theodora Children's Trust, who enable a growing team of performers to offer this service to hospitals across the UK. (Check them out on www.theodora.org.uk ).

Then, in 2011, I collapsed. I was taken seriously ill. Medical tests were unable to give a specific diagnosis, but I was totally incapacitated, and the only advice the doctors could give me was "rest".
I'm not great at sitting still (thanks for that quality, Mum!), and especially not for months at a time. So I took this enforced free time to revisit some of the crafting hobbies that I never usually had time for. I began dressmaking, knitting, jewellery-making, crochet, as well as experimenting with some crafts that were new to me, such as needle-felting.
And as the months have progressed I've ended up with quite a stash of eclectic (and completed!) projects.

So here I am, over sixteen months since I was first taken ill, wanting to share some of my projects with the world. I've enjoyed them and found them therapeutic - the blackwork embroidery photo at the top of this blog was done at the height of my illness, and was incredibly calming to work on - and I'm proud of the things that I have produced. I hope you enjoy them too!

H.x

Post script: Since writing this post, I have received a diagnosis for my illness. I have something called PoTs - postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. I won't bore you with the details. My uncle described it as "trying to run a four-star engine on two-star petrol", and that sums it up pretty well. If you want further information there is a fantastic website www.potsuk.org
It is a chronic illness, so whilst my symptoms may improve, I will never be completely free of it. Enforced resting will mean more sewing time, so look out for more posts! H.x