Posted on

Upcycled linen pocket

A while ago I stumbled upon a vintage handmade embroidered linen purse on Swedish eBay. I immediately fell for the fabric and the embroidery. In this post I take you through my process of turning the purse into an upcycled linen pocket.

The purse was a bit too large for my taste and I have never understood the purpose of a bag that is meant to be held in the hand. How are you supposed to be able to craft if your hands are busy holding a bag?

The eBayed vintage purse and what’s left of it.

The purse was beautifully made. The ad said hand woven and I have no reason to argue with that. The embroidery is very sweet in its simplicity and the two subtle colours. Both the front and the back of the purse were lined and all seams hand sewn.

British vs Swedish pockets

When I saw the ad I was reading the beautiful book The Pocket: A hidden history of women’s lives, by Barbara Burman and Ariane Fennetaux where all known secrets of tie-on pockets between the 17th and late 19th centuries are revealed. So naturally my mind went to a pocket when I played with ideas for the purse fabric.

If you make a search on the Swedish digital museum for kjolsäck, the Swedish word for tie-on pocket (literally meaning skirt sack) you find lots of embroidered and embellished pockets (and some plain) with a horizontal opening. In the book The Pocket, though, covering only British pockets, nearly all the samples have vertical lined openings and basically the same design throughout the the book, in both samples and artwork picturing pockets.

My first pocket was inspired by the traditional Swedish pocket design – in a rounded shape and with a horizontal opening.

I made my first pocket with more of a Swedish design with a horizontal opening. So why not make this one like the British model I had spent so much time reading about?

A pocket pattern

When I published pictures of my first pocket in social media I got a response from Anne/Hamblemouse who wants us to revolt and take tie-on pockets into the 21st century fashion. And why not – when there finally are pockets in women’s clothes they are usually too small and simple. And mobile phones usually too large and too heavy for said pockets.

Anne makes and sells tie-on pockets inspired by old patterns such as the ones in the book mentioned above. She also sells kits for making your own pocket, and patterns. I wanted to make a pocket the British style and figured a proper pattern would be perfect, so I bought Anne’s pocket pattern.

Anne’s pattern is very easy to follow and paves the way for a beautiful and sturdy pocket.

The pattern has very clear instructions with a thorough and sensible process. While the pattern is made for hand sewing nothing will stop you from machine sewing your pocket. I chose to hand sew mine. I mean, why bring out a 17 kilo sewing machine from the -60’s when you can enjoy some peace and quiet with needle, thread and some sweet hand sewing?

Anne’s pattern suggests lining the front piece. The lining peeks through the opening and strengthens it in the smartest way. My eBayed bag was lined in both front and back piece, so I used the lining for the back piece as well.

Basting!

The pocket pattern calls for basting/tacking in nearly all the seams. And what a beautiful invention basting is! I haven’t reflected much about basting before (and I used to sew a lot), but this pattern really opened my eyes for basting. It may take a little longer, but it will also give you more time with a lovely fabric in your hands. And once basted the main seam is a breeze to sew.

A woven band

I needed a band for the pocket and I wanted to weave it. I turned to Kerstin Neumüller who sells lovely linen weaving yarn for her band weaving workshops. She didn’t have the exact colours to match the embroidery on the bag, so I went with two shades of blueish grey to at least match the subtle shine from the combination of two colours on the bag.

I’m weaving a band for the pocket. Yarn from Kerstin Neumüller.

At the time I had a migraine and stayed home from work. Weaving a band on the balcony may not take the migraine away, but it did take my mind off it for a while.

The yarn was so smooth to weave with, the shed opened itself and I just lifted my heddle strings and let the weft yarn sing its way through the warp.

Round braids to finish the warp ends in a tassel-like fashion.

Since the ends of the band would be visible I chose to make them fancy – I made round braids of the warp ends for a tassel look. The braids are fiddly to make and takes a bit of time (seven minutes per braid and there were 24 of them), but it was definitely worth the effort.

Upcycled linen pocket

After having braided until my hands couldn’t move anymore I was finally finished. I basted and attached the band to the bag and wove in all ends.

An evening purse upcycked into a tie-on pocket.

I do love this pocket, it turned out even better than I had imagined. It’s sturdy, strong and does its thing. I can choose to wear it when my pockets are non-existent, too small or too weak for whatever I want to carry in them.

I’m not finished with tie-on pockets. I have ideas for at least three more in different materials, techniques and styles. And it’s just that – there is so much you can do with a small project like a pocket. You can make it in different materials, styles, with or without embellishments. You can embroider, try out new techniques or combinations or just enjoy a moment with a small sewing project. And you get to weave a band! There is room for so much more than physical objects in a pocket.

By the way – Does anybody have use for a bagless bag handle?

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Linen shirt

A hand sewn linen shirt from antique linen fabric is the theme of today’s post. I dive into seams, details and techniques and find it surprisingly peaceful and rewarding. Spoiler alert: None of this is my handspun.

A two year project is finally finished: A linen shirt. Photo by Isak Waltin.

A couple of years ago, just in the beginning of the pandemic, I took a weekend class in hand sewing a linen shirt. The course took place at Historical textiles‘ studio (just a bike ride from home) and was taught by Magdalena Fick, museum assistant at the costume collection at Skansen open air museum. She is also a reenactor and creates lots of historical garments.

We got to use fancy tools in the class – a bone folder for folding seams and hems and a sewing hook for for keeping the fabric taut when sewing.

We were four students in the class, sitting in separate corners of a giant table. A couple of the other students took the class for reenactment purposes and one to add to her regional costume. I just wanted to hand sew a linen shirt for the sake of a hand sewn linen shirt.

Fabric

We got to sew small samples of different seams and techniques, which was quite fun. A wedge here, a hemstitch there, a sleeve gusset and some smocking in between. We also got to buy fabric, plan our shirts and cut out the pieces.

Course mini samples – gussets, wedges, hemstitching and a picot edge.

I wanted a 100 per cent linen fabric and I wanted it to be handwoven. At the studio I found an antique linen fabric to die for. It was at least 120 years old. A bit scary as a beginner to take on such a treasure, but I figured it would be my only chance to handle fabric like that.

Antique handwoven linen fabric to die for.

The width of the antique fabric I got my hands on was only 40 centimeters, though, so I had some planning to do. As it turned out, 40 centimeters was a bit on the tight side over my shoulders and bust. As I continued sewing at home after the course had finished I realized that I had to choose between wearing the shirt and breathing. I of course chose the best option: Procrastinating.

Sewing (or not) at home

When I picked the shirt up again I turned to my friend Cecilia who knows everything about anything that is important. Like shirt alterations. She guided me by telephone in making wedges at the sides and at the back. It was difficult and the fit still wasn’t ideal over the bust. I procrastinated some more.

Photo by Isak Waltin
Wedges in the side seams and mid back plus the sleeve gusset. On the left picture (taken when I started sewing the shirt) you can see by the creases below the sleeves that it has had a very tight fit.

A couple of months ago I got some new hand sewing mojo and picked up the shirt again. I had gone down a couple of sizes since I started sewing the shirt, so the shirt fit very well over the bust, but was quite roomy over the waist. I decided to leave the fit as it was, I didn’t want to risk the beautiful fabric by altering the side seams again.

Slow and reflective

Sewing by hand is slow. Which, to me, is a superpower. It gives me time to reflect over what I am doing and to better plan ahead. And there is something very grounding in holding a fabric made of natural fibers and stitch by stitch transform a flat surface into a three dimensional garment that fits my body.

When I am sewing a seam I don’t think about the length of it, I just get into the rhythm or the stitching and breathe in the sewing moment. So simple, yet so complex. All textile work is true engineering and I am so fascinated over the intricate techniques that have stood the test of time and developed since time began.

Seam anatomy

I know you are all dying to see the wrong side of the shirt. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? The wrong side of a garment tells a lot about the making. Well, I will not let you down. Here are some wrong side wedges for you.

Mid back (left) and side seam (right) wedges on the wrong side.

It’s funny, I have sewn a lot of garments for myself in my life. At least up until around 20 years ago. And still I have never known the anatomy of a hand sewn garment.

One of the last things I made was a wedding dress for my best friend. I was reasonably confident in fitting and altering, but I had asked her not to get pregnant, that was an alteration I wouldn’t know how to make. On the day she was coming to collect the dress she whispered in my ear “I’m pregnant!”. I smiled and whispered back to her “So am I!”. I did sew some totally misshapen baby clothes after that, but once my child was born I didn’t want to risk having pins on the floor, so I stopped sewing altogether.

Wrong sides of sleeve end and neckline.

This was machine sewing, though. Hand sewing gives so many more opportunities to sew neat and strong seams. And that has been necessary since there was no such thing as a consumer society and clothes had to be kept in good condition to be worn and handed down over the generations. Clothes were sturdily sewn, patched, mended and altered until there was nothing left to put a needle in. We could use some of that knowledge and awareness these days too.

My friend got married and the dress fit her, despite her 12 week pregnancy. We both had sons who are now 19.

Neckline

As I had finished all the major seams of my linen shirt the most scary part was left: The neckline. I had just made a T-shaped cut at the top, large enough to fit my head. Now I had to plan, cut and sew the whole shape of the neckline.

This is how I constructed my linen shirt. Rectangles, squares, triangles, a hole for the neck and voilá! A linen shirt.

There is a freedom in making the pattern as you go along. One of the appealing parts of making a linen shirt in historical techniques is the simplicity of the pattern – rectangles for sleeves and body. A couple of squares for sleeve gussets and a handfull of triangles for wedges. A hole at the top for the head.

At the same time it is truly scary to take on the responsibility for the whole fit with just a handful of geometric shapes. That in combination with the antique fabric and my beginner’s mind scared me. At the same time I knew I needed to make something beautiful of the fabric. I had adopted it and it was my responsibility to make it work and make it beautiful.

A simple neckline. Photo by Isak Waltin.

So I tried the shirt on, placed a couple of pins, drew a couple of curves and cut out a neckline. And it looked beautiful! Just the right width and depth of the hole and a fitting slit at the front.

Lace

When Magdalena showed us samples of neckline lace seams on the course I knew I wanted to make one. Just a small lace triangle at the bottom of the neckline slit. Simple, yet elegant. So once I had hemmed the neckline I started to reinforce the edges of the neckline slit with a tight blanket stitch and a blanket stitch bridge at the top.

Laces stitch extravaganza in a booklet about seams. I chose number 108.

At the course we had used a lovely (discontinued) booklet about stitches. I managed to find one on Swedish eBay, though. After having oohed and aahed through the pages I chose one of the lace stitches and sewed a triangle inside my blanket stitch border. I managed to finish it and it was evidently a tiny lace triangle. But not very pretty. I tossed and turned in bed that night, knowing I could do better.

Photo by Isak Waltin
A tight blanket stitch edging and lace detail, first and second try. I used exactly the same lace stitch, but in the second try I had realized that I needed to pull the stitches tighter.

The next day I carefully and determinedly ripped the lace stitch and tried again. I realized that I hadn’t pulled the stitches tightly enough. My second try was miles away from the first one. A real lace triangle, and pretty too!

Hemstitching

Isn’t hemstitching the sweetest thing? Just pulling out a couple of weft threads and bundling up the warp threads in pretty patterns. Again, simple, yet elegant. And very time consuming. One sleeve took me one hour. But it was definitely worth it. Such a sweet stitch and such a lovely rhythm.

The rhythm of hemstitching is the sweetest!

I found myself looking for more places to sneak some hemstitching in, but I managed to control myself. Less is more. So I closed the hemstitching chapter by hemming the sleeve ends against the hemstitch seam.

Smocking

Can I have a smock too? Just a tiny one? I did have to do something with the sleeve ends, they were too wide and unpractical. And smocking would be smashing! So I made one, with four threads. It solved two problems: The width of the sleeves and my urge to sew smocking.

I’m ridiculously fond of my sleeve smockings and hemstitching. Photo by Isak Waltin.

I love the result. Just on the right side of flamboyant. And sometimes that’s just what we need, right?

Monogram

The last detail of the shirt was a monogram. I have so many anonymous monograms in our linen cabinet from all the flea market sheets we have bought over the years. Small traces of people who once lived, loved and dedicated time and skill into beautifully embroidered monograms, but whose lives I would never know anything about. Except from those personal, yet anonymous letters. This would be my own monogram, a testament of my love and dedication sewn into that linen shirt.

I wanted it small but bold, so I chose a flea market bright red linen yarn for the embroidery and my upper arm for the placement and cross-stitched my little heart out. And, as it turned out, the bright red dye. It bled. Just by passing the thread past the neckline as I made the stitches, the neckline changed into a misty pink.

My very own monogram. Photo by Isak Waltin.

I texted Cecilia again. She said that the dye probably wouldn’t go out of the white linen and that it was a part of the cultural heritage. I replied that I had decided to sulk for a while before I would be ready to embrace the cultural heritage. I am over the sulking part for now, I’ll get back to you for a sulkiness update after the first wash.

A finished linen shirt! Photo by Isak Waltin.

I’m very happy with my linen shirt. I got a unique opportunity to dive into hand sewing and I learned some pretty groovy techniques, not to mention the thread waxing skills. I’m glad I managed to control myself and stick to those four details – the lace, the hemstitching, the smocking and the monogram. I would love to sew a fitted bodice to match the shirt.

Happy spinning!

You can find me in several social media:

  • This blog is my main channel. This is where I write posts about spinning, but also where I explain a bit more about videos I release. Sometimes I make videos that are on the blog only. Subscribe or make an rss feed to be sure not to miss any posts.
  • My youtube channel is where I release a lot of my videos. Subscribe to be sure not to missanything!
  • I have a facebook page where I link to all my blog posts, you are welcome to follow me there.
  • I run an online spinning school, welcome to join a course! You can also check out my course page for courses in Sweden.
  • On Patreon you can get early access to new videos and other Patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patreon only benefits. The contributions from my patrons is an important way to cover the costs, time and energy I put into the videos and blog posts I create. Shooting and editing a 3 minute video takes about 5 hours. Writing a blog post around 3. You can read more about my Patreon page here.
  • You are also welcome to make one-off donations on my Ko-fi page.
  • Follow me on Instagram.  I announce new blog posts, share images from behind the scenes and post lots of woolliness.
  • Read the new book Knit (spin) Sweden! by Sara Wolf. I am a co-author and write in the fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.fleece section about how I spin yarn from Swedish sheep breeds.
  • In all the social media I offer, you are more than welcome to contact me. Interacting with you helps me make better content. My private Facebook page, however, will remain private.
  • I support Centro de textiles tradicionales del Cusco, a group of talented textile artists in Cusco, Peru who dedicate their work to the empowerment of weavers through the revitalization and sustainable practice of Peruvian ancestral textiles in the Cusco region. Please consider supporting their work by donating to their causes.
Posted on

Linen pocket

A while ago I started to take an interest in loose pockets. When my friend Cecilia and I got to dress in 18th century clothing when we shot the Walking wheel video at Vallby open air museum I desperately wanted to wear a loose pocket underneath my skirts. And when we were on a guided tour in the costume collections at Skansen open air museum I asked if we could see the loose pockets. Today I present my linen pocket. Warning: Nothing in this post is spinning related.

Can we talk about the size and weight of mobile phones? And the existence and if so the size of pockets on women’s trousers, skirts and dresses? With the few clothes that happen to have pockets large enough for a mobile phone the weight of the device turns the clothing askew. They may also tear or break.

As we got dressed for the Walking wheel video I insisted on finding loose pockets to wear underneath our skirts. Perfect for not so 18th century things like mobile phones, mini tripods and credit cards.

A loose pocket on the other hand is the perfect solution for both nonexistent, too small or torn pockets. It can be used and mended while keeping the trousers reasonably whole. The thought of different pockets for different occasions, seasons, mood or simply the crafting craving of the day is also appealing.

Loose pockets

A loose pocket is just what it sounds like – a loose pocket to wear around your hip, either plain and secretly underneath a skirt or visibly and decadently embellished, some semi visible with embellishments on only one half. Kjolsäck is the most common word for this accessory in Swedish – meaning skirt pouch. At a guided tour at the costumes collection at Skansen open air museum we got the opportunity to look at beautifully embellished kjolsäck pockets from different areas in county Dalarna.

Beautiful pockets from the costume collections at Skansen open air museum. These beautifully decorated come from the county of Dalarna and are are meant to wear visibly.

Typically the wearer would keep important things like needles and a sewing or knitting project in the pocket, as well as herbs for staying awake during long church visits and perhaps something to keep the children at peace.

A pocket dream

I am not sure where this pocket dream came from, but it has been lurking in the back of my mind for a while, squeaking silently every now and then to remind me of its existence. I had an embroidery pattern in another corner of my mind, intended for something else, but as I realized that I could experiment with a pocket of my own I decided to practice the pattern on the pocket.

My plans for my first linen pocket.

Since I have no connection to either traditional regional costumes or reenactment I decided to make a style that I wanted and not follow regional costume rules or historical correctness. I just wanted a pocket to fit my needs now.

Recycled linen pocket

While I was planning my pocket project I decided to only use material that I had at home or that I had eBayed.

  • I bought two linen damask towels from Swedish eBay for the pocket material.
  • The linen embroidery yarns are also from Swedish eBay.
  • The linen weaving yarn is a commercial yarn from my stash.
  • I found a tablet woven band that I made a few years ago in a band weaving frenzy.
  • At the last minute I realized I needed key carabiners for the loops, and I got them from Swedish eBay too.
  • And oh, the embroidery hoop comes from a flea market.

A pocket recipe

Front and back

The first thing I did was to draw a line around my spread-out hand to find a size. I drew a shape I liked and transferred it to the pink (back side) towel. I made slightly larger version that I transfered to the turquoise (front side) towel. That way I got the opportunity to frill the front piece for a bellows effect. I also figured the bellowed front side would keep the pocket flat against my hip.

Embroidery

When the shape was drawn on the front side towel I started embroidering an amoeba shaped pattern with a couching stitch (läggsöm). I love the freedom of this stitch, I can just let the yarn lead the way and enjoy the ride. When I was happy with the embroidery I ironed interfacing on the back of the front side for protection and extra sturdiness. I cut out the front side and two back sides, with interfacing on one of them. To keep the shape neat I added an inner pocket for my mobile phone on the back piece and two band loops with carabiners for important stuff like keys and needle cases.

A two-color couching stitch in an amoeba-like pattern is what triggered me to start making a linen pocket.

Shaping

While I ruffled the bottom of the front pice for extra room I kept it tight at the top for a neat opening. I added a protecting Kumpay seam at the top of the pocket opening. I found it in the book Secrets of spinning, weaving and knitting in the Peruvian highlands by Nilda Callañaupa Alvarez and in an online course by Laverne Waddington.

The front and back pieces are tacked together. The embroidery and the decorative Kumpay stitch for the opening are finished. Inside the pocket I have added a pocket and two loops with tablet woven bands.

Weaving, tubular and flat

After having tacked the front and back pieces together I wove and sew a tubular band in a linen yarn as an edging. This is common in the Andes and I found the instructions in the same sources as the Kumpay stitch. It was a bit fiddly and has a charmingly irregular look.

Weaving a tubular band onto the edge of the linen pocket was a bit fidgety, but it worked.

At this stage I had a very limited amount of the turquoise colour left. For the ties I used the same weaving yarn and wove a 180 cm band, ending with pretty cords of the warp ends. The colour pattern is carefully planned and only a meter or so remains of the turquoise yarn.

Weaving bands – tubular or flat – is such a sweet little craft.

I warped the ties as a circular warp, which always fascinates me. But then again, weaving is such an amazing art form and I am only nibbling gently at a very small edge of the weaving universe.

A myriad of details in a small project

I love making small projects. It gives me the opportunity to try new techniques and adding details. The couching stitch, the Kumpay edging, the tubular band and the cords, all quite time consuming, but on a small project still doable.

Herbs and things for the kids aren’t my first choices to inhabit my pocket. I’m more into housing my mobile phone (or my husband’s in this case since I took the photo with mine) and any sort of textile project. The mini Pushka is there for good luck.

For the finishing touch I hand stitched the woven band onto the pocket. I had no idea really what to do with the warp ends of the tubular band, and I decided to simply tuck them in between the two back piece layers and hope they would behave.

The linen pocket is finished! I am very happy with the details I spent time figuring out and creating.

More pockets to come

I have loved my first pocket project. There will be more pockets. I have learned from my first project and I will make some alterations for future projects. The linen towel was a little to thin and wobbly, at least on the front piece that was single. I may alter the size and the amount of bellow room. I like the opportunity to fit stuff into the pocket, but at the same time it mustn’t be too big and clumsy.

My very first kjolsäck pocket is finished and ready for adventures. The weaving yarns for the tubular and flat bands are the same as in the knitted sweaters.

This will be a summer pocket and for my next I’m planning a more autumnal and wintery, in wool. There is so much to play with and I am ready to dive in.

and oh, a book is on its way to me – Pocket: A hidden history of women’s lives, 1660–1900 by Barbara Burman and Ariane Fennetaux. I can’t wait!

Happy spinning!

Thank you all 237 (a record!) who registered for last week’s breed study webinar on Åland wool and all 65+ who came to the livestream. I had the loveliest time!

You can find me in several social media: