Tag Archives: upcycling

They See Me Strollin’. They Hatin’.

02 Friday Aug 2013

Posted by in I'm a Crafty Mo' Fo', The "Joy" of Parenting

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Another Big Bite - Doll Stroller Makeover

Oh, Alice and her babies.

She’s been enamored with baby dolls since she’s been able to sit up.  Finn suggested we get her a stroller for her first birthday, which turned out to be a stroke of genius.  We ordered a plastic Fisher Price walker-type one from Amazon, and she was on a roll. Once she realized that she had more than just the one baby, all hell broke loose because the other babies were too big.

That one has been banished to the basement for its tantrum-causing tendencies.  Don’t worry; it has the giant cardboard bricks, slot-cars and Hot Wheel track down there to keep it company.

Last week, after my I-should-get-rid-of-my-crappy-Old-Navy-clothes epiphany, I whittled down my closet by almost half and lugged two giant blue Ikea bags full of clothes to Goodwill.  I made the mistake of popping in.  And left $3.00 poorer with this icky bad boy in my trunk.

Another Big Bite - Doll Stroller Makeover before

I scrubbed the hell out of it with Clorox wipes.  Instead of being a regular person and plunking the cover in the wash, I made a new cover.  Just trying to make the world a little cuter, one beat-up doll stroller at a time.

It wasn’t rocket science; I used a seam ripper to tear it apart and then traced the pieces onto leftover fabric scraps.  Oh, yeah, canvas dropcloth to the rescue yet again!  I’m gonna milk that baby as long as I can.  Best twenty bucks I’ve ever spent.  Since the original stroller fabric was finished in bias tape (which tests my sewing skills and frustrates me to no end) and I was fresh out (shucky-darn, motherfucka), I opted to double up the canvas with some cute Amy Butler fabric I had lying around waiting for a project.  That meant adding a bit of seam allowance.

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Then traced my canvas on to the cute fabric...

Then traced my canvas on to the cute fabric…

I made sure to add elastic loops, static loops and velcro wherever the original had it.  The original had a pair of D-rings and webbing for the belt to hold the doll in.  Alice would have long outgrown this darn thing before she was able to manipulate those, so I improvised a velcro/fabric belt instead.

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Now she’s happier than a brand-new momma with a Bugaboo…  (Probably because she gets more sleep).  And I’m happier because this one folds up and hides in the cabinets in the living room when she’s done.

Ohmygod! She was so little in December! And not even walking on her own.

Ohmygod! She was so little in December! And not even walking on her own.

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“Back up, lady. That last Petite Vanilla Scone has my name written all over it.”

No stroller, but I couldn't resist.

No stroller, but I couldn’t resist.

This should stay relevant until she realizes they make DOUBLE strollers for dolls…  I’ll plead with her to reconsider putting it on her Christmas list.  (“Please, Alice, honey.  Your father and I thought we had to have a double stroller for the two of you kids…  And that thing is a bitch to get around.  And takes up too much real estate in the garage…  Even though it is AMAZING.”)  But she’ll be just like her mom – and won’t listen to her mother’s sage advice.

Woo! Foxy Pillow!

25 Thursday Jul 2013

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Here I come, baby.  I’m comin’ to lean on ya.

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As I write this, I am beginning to notice a pattern.  Buying clothes for myself at Old Navy is not wise.  I have countless pairs of jeans and shirts in my closet that don’t fit, are a weird color, are falling apart or some combination of any of those three.  The one thing they all have in common?  Old Navy.

But, hey, they were also all very reasonably priced.  So there’s that.

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Here’s the thing; I bought that crap because I thought it was cute at one time or another.  This sweater is textbook Old Navy…  Cute idea, slightly the wrong color, poor quality, ill-fitting…  And only sixteen dollars!  Why yes, ma’am, I’ll take it!

I like the fox, I do, but no one over the age of fourteen (I’m being generous here) should be sporting woodland creatures in the name of fashion.  Since I’m not the greatest at math, I clearly overlooked the fact that I am in my thirties and have no business traipsing around in a sweater emblazoned with Tod from The Fox and the Hound.

Still, it is kinda cute.  So I made a pillow out of it.  Lined with (what else but) a drop cloth.

I was mad impressed with myself when I finally zipped up the invisible zipper that I put in – after ripping it out only twice.  By the time I got around to getting started on the insert for the pillow, I had an epiphany.

Lightning had struck my brain.

Hey, I’ve got 826 down pillows scattered around the house.  Surely I can spare one of them for The Fantastic Mr. Fox.  They are all too big; I’ll just rip one open and make it smaller!!  Easy, peasy!

Do you have any idea how many fucking feathers are in a 20″ down pillow insert?  This many; it fills a bin that is big enough for me to lay down in.

photo 2 (9)So there I am, in the middle of the night, choking on the remains of some unfortunate specimen of water fowl, wishing I would have worn a mask, covered from head to toe in static-infused downy goodness, and it strikes me that some poor soul has to do this every damn day, forty hours a week, fifty-two weeks a year.  And I’m doing it for a HOBBY.  Clearly, I’m a dumbass.

Not that we didn’t already know that about me.  I mean, hey, I’m a grown woman buying clothes from Old Navy without trying them on.

Now I’ve got a pillow – a fox, made out of sheep’s hair (wool), stuffed with a goose. It is the turducken of soft furnishings… A sheeoxaquack?  I dunno.

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Now, if you don’t mind me, I’m off to my closet to get a pile going for Goodwill.

Outfitted for Christmas Morning

03 Monday Dec 2012

Posted by in I'm a Crafty Mo' Fo', Nerd Alert, The "Joy" of Parenting

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I am getting every last bit of use out of my sewing machine as I can before we move.  It’s almost like kissing a sailor goodbye right before he goes off to storm the beaches of Normandy.  (I said ALMOST.)

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Today, we finished making Christmas jammie pants for the kids.  We were in Old Navy and spotted an interesting pair of men’s pajama pants; they have skulls wearing Santa hats all over them.  I’ll be honest, it’s not my thing, but Finn is massively into skeletons (since last Halloween when we bought him a skeleton shirt).  They don’t make cool Christmas pants in kids’ sizes and there isn’t any hip Christmas fabric at Joann’s.  If I ever want to make Alice a dress with waltzing princess gingerbread men on them, I know where to look.  But, if you are a skeleton-loving little boy, prancing Christmas pastry isn’t necessarily what you hope to be wearing while opening your swag from The Jolly Fat Man on Christmas morning.  (That would be Santa and NOT Nathan, by the way.  No one would ever mistake Nathan for “jolly.”)

I bought the biggest pair of men’s pants as I could find, since I was hoping to get a pair for Alice out of them, too.   I used pairs of the kids’ pants as a pattern and used the bottom of the legs for Finn’s and the top for Alice’s pair.

I recall, way back in the day, a friend in Spokane told me that it was super easy to make pants without a pattern (that’s you, Peggy!  Why would I ever have doubted you?).  I’m not gonna lie – I totally thought she was mistaken, but really, it is so easy.  If one were so inclined, it is totally doable in five(ish) steps…

ONE: Trace…

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TWO:  Hem the bottom of each leg.

THREE:  With right sides together, sew the short sides of each pant leg together – the inseam/crotch.

FOUR:  Turn one pant leg right-side out and slip it inside the pant leg that is inside-out, line up the raw edges and sew.  (So that the right sides of each pant leg are together.)

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FIVE: Fold over the waist band twice and stitch so you have a tube for the elastic waist band to run through, leaving a small opening to put said elastic in.

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FIVE-ISH:  Put a safety-pin on one end of your elastic and run it through the tube.  Stitch or tie the ends together and sew up the little opening in the waistband.

FIVE-ISH-ISH:  Beg and plead with your child to please, please, PLEASE hold still so Mom can take a picture.  Nope?  Fine.

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I even put a little faux tie on them.  It’s just a bow made out of the tie off the original pair of pants tacked to the front.

I also zigzagged all the seams to prevent fraying, though I sorta half-assed it.  Ideally, my stitches would be way closer together, but I was racing the clock and hoped to get them done before Princess Christmas woke up.

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I’ve got a confession to make; I also made a tiny pair for Alice’s baby.  I know.  Lah-hoose-sah-her.  Guilty.  

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This is why American Girl makes a killing on matching outfits for girls and their dolls; moms like me.

Drum roll, please… The dress; revealed.

20 Monday Aug 2012

Posted by in I'm a Crafty Mo' Fo', Party Hearty

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Holy schmoley, I never would have thought that so many people would be sitting on the edge of their seats waiting to see how this dress came out.  And by “so many people,” I mean THREE, one of which is my mother-in-law (shout out to YOU, Mima!!).  And I doubt they were actually sitting on the edge of their seats.  (I think this is what they call “artistic license.”)

Before I get down to business, let me just say that this has been a cah-rah-azy week.  My mom and grandmother came in to visit, so instead of writing blog posts, I (slash Nathan) was…

All that AND making this damned dress.  So, yes.  I have been busy, and now I have tons of fodder for new blog posts. But keep your shorts on; I have to tell you all about my dream where Captain America, Thor and I tear up our local shopping mall….

What do you mean you don’t give a shit about my dream??

Alright, enough already.  You probably already skipped ahead to the pictures anyway.  And you have already seen this dress.  Since this is the third time I’ve made it.  Here’s the “before:”

And DONE.

I know, it is plain… But she’s a baby, for pete’s sake.  Not a birthday cake.

I’m not sure which will end up being a bigger pain in the ass, sewing on these little buttons or getting them all buttoned once it is on her.

You may wonder what we will do if it is cold…  Worry not.  We got her a little sweater at Target.

I also made a headband for her out of some of the lace.  I’m sorry, but baby bonnets just aren’t my thing.  And her hair is going to get all wet, and I’m not about to condemn her to a crappy hair day for her party.  By the way…  Have you ever tried to photograph the top of a baby’s head?  Nearly impossible.  Which is why they are a little blurry.

Oh my god, she is so cute it kills me.

So there you have it.  I’m sure it was a the biggest letdown for you since the first Twilight movie came out.  (I think I have now referenced Twilight twice in this post, and I think I may have to get a life.)  Stay tuned to see how crappy the last Twilight  movie is it looks on her on her big day!

I just cut up my mother’s wedding dress…

11 Saturday Aug 2012

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…right after I washed it.  In the washing machine.

(Chill out, people.  It’s not like I put it in the dryer or anything.  Sheesh.)

For those of you following along, I am planning on making Alice’s christening gown out of my mother’s wedding dress.  I have already made two dresses with the same pattern; one was super huge, the other turned out pretty dang cute.  I felt confident that I could make this dress after two practice runs.  I was psyched up.  I got my game face on.  I limbered up, stretched my hammies, did a couple of practice swings…

When I finally got to this point, I totally choked.

Normally, when I think of cutting up wedding dresses, divorces or cheating husbands come to mind.  I don’t think many people do nice things after taking a pair of scissors to the dress you got married in.  My parents are divorced, and have been for like, decades, but I still got all clammy, my palms started sweating and my heart was beating a million miles an hour.

I wish I was kidding.

All I kept thinking was; shit… If I fuck this up, I will forever have that on my conscience.  I will have ruined my mother’s wedding dress for no good reason.

But, I closed my eyes (not really) and made the first cut.  I wish I could say it got easier after I made the preliminary snip, but I was agonizing over screwing it up the entire time.

Finally, I was done.  I cut out all the pieces, laid them nice and neat on the table…  Then the second wave of panic set in.  Holy shit.  Now I need to make something out of this.  With my two totally incapable hands.

All the while, my mother’s defiled gown just sat there, in a pitiful scrap heap, taunting me.

Fuck this up, Lisa, and you will have ruined a precious family heirloom.  No pressure or anything…

Stay tuned to see how it turns out.  Don’t lie.  Secretly, you are totally rooting for me to end up with something hysterically awful.  All the world loves a failure.