I have some fun news to share! I know it looked like I was just sitting around at the beach for the latter half of the summer, but in truth, I was in my sewing Batcave (occasionally) cooking up a 50s scarf pattern, which is now available as a free download on WeAllSew.com. Here’s where you can find it: Hepburn Scarf Pattern

The pattern’s based on an authentic 50s design, and it holds it’s shape with some little tucks and a big buttonhole that you tuck one end through to make the knot. You can cut the pattern on either the lengthwise or crosswise grain, so it’s easy to make from a remnant.

Here’s the glamour shot:

And here’s how the scarf looks laid out:

It’s quick and easy, so I hope you’ll give it a try! If you’re a beginner, you can make it without the tucks, and it will still look fine. The pattern is part of my collaboration with Bernina USA, and once again I have to thank them for the generous support of my vintage reconstruction projects. I couldn’t do it without you, Karl! (For details, click the “Bernina Collaboration” tab above.)

If you end up trying the pattern, please send a photo my way so I can post it here at Jet Set Sewing. I’d love to see how it turns out.

As for current sewing, I’m still plugging away on this Edith Head bolero:

 (details of the muslin version I made of it are here.)

I was still a little unsure of the fit, so rather than cutting the pattern at the cutting line, or thread tracing (baste loosely to mark the seamline on the fabric, a technique used in haute couture), I went with a method known in France as “Le Rig de Jerry” (or jerry-rig in English, probably named after Jerry Lewis), which is to say I faked it.

I was inspired by this recent post by sewing penpal Carmen of the CarmencitaB blog, about how there’s no absolutely “right” way to sew any given thing. Carmen is currently competing in the French sewing bee show called “Cousu Main,” which I’ve been watching on the sly here in the States (via an internet jerry-rig). Go Carmen!

So I used large sheets of wax tracing paper and my tracing wheel to mark the seamlines and darts along the back of the fabric. You can find this big tracing paper at RichardTheThread.com and SusanKhalje.com. It helps to have several different colors for different fabrics.

Big caveat here (that’s legalese for “Warning, Will Robinson”), the wax tracing paper marks can become permanent on the fabric, so only try this if your fabric is thick, and only mark it on the wrong side. (The white tracing paper will come off easily with an iron, but it wouldn’t show up on this fabric.)
Once I was done marking the fabric, I machine-basted just outside of the tracing marks, so I would see the seamline on the right side of the fabric. This stitching will also function as stay-stitching (I hope).

The reason I went through this whole rigamarole was so that I could cut the fabric with large seam allowances, leaving room beyond the seamline to make the bolero bigger if I needed to.
After that, the construction was pretty much smooth sailing with this study, easily sewn and formed silk.

The easing in the shoulder went smoothly, the darts stitched up nicely, and I cheated and used fusible for the interfacing instead of organza (because I knew it would be fine, and the fusible was higher up on the stash pile than the organza). I’m using Pro-Weft Supreme Lightweight Fusible interfacing from Fashion Sewing Supply, which is a high-quality fusible with some loft. It works well for soft tailoring on Chanel-style jackets or something like this.

La la la down the primrose path, and then…

Looks easy, right? Except the collar edge is straight, and the neckline is curved, Edith Head!!! True, the straight edge is on the bias and stretches, but just to be safe, I hand-basted the two edges together before I stitched. Worked like a charm:

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So, there I was, back on the primrose path, la la la…until:

So perfectly clear and not all that complicated, I kept telling myself during Shavasana at yoga, when I was supposed to be meditating but was grinding my teeth instead.
And here’s how it looked in real life:

(When I posted that photo on InstaGram, the hashtag was #seeyouinhelledithhead.)
But this is why we’re doing these hard projects, right? To understand how they’re done? So after quite a bit of monkeying around, revisiting the instructions, and visualizing the construction, the design started to make sense and I was able to tame the beast:

See, docile as a lamb. And such a beautiful design.
Tomorrow I’ll cut and construct the lining, which I’ll probably be hand-sewing in on the plane to Los Angeles at this rate. But I feel like the major problems have been solved. (Famous last words.)