If you give a seamstress fabric, she might make a dress to go with it...

When someone gives you a bag full of fabric and asks you to make some doll clothes using whatever you want, would you stop at two tiny outfits?

I didn't either. 

When I was a kid I played with Barbies. Everything I saw or imagined was in the context of some amazing life story I could play out with my friends. Little pieces of cardboard became books on a tiny shelf. Shoeboxes became wagons in the Old West, or hot tubs. But did I ever think about the time and effort that went into how those tiny little clothes were designed?

Pfft. No. 

Have you ever taken the time to really examine the size of those armholes? We're talking about millimeters. Thank you, Mattel, for your diligence in making little girls like me happy. 

This week I was commissioned by a new friend to design two outfits for a small doll. Since her grandmother had given it to her years ago, the old pajamas lost their stretch and the soft colors faded. The little doll just needed a little wardrobe update.

The doll is only about 5.5 inches long but has the belly of Santa Claus. Being someone who has never designed doll clothing beyond wrapping with wash rags, I started from scratch. I measured, I brainstormed, and in the end it all came down to two simple things: a pillowcase dress and some fond childhood memories of Velcro.

Bless you, NASA, for designing something so simple.

Remember when I asked what you would do if someone gave you a bag of fabric and permission to use as much as you want for the project? Scrap after beautiful scrap I pulled from the bag. Old fabric, new fabric, it didn't matter.  It was all amazing.

Then I found the winner. It was a creamy cotton dotted with tiny little blue stars. And there was just enough to make not one, but two dresses: one for the doll and one for the little girl who loves it. 

I. Could. Not. Resist. 

I rifled through my stash of lace, fired up the iron and assembled the cutest pillowcase dress I've ever made.

Never heard of a pillowcase dress? It basically is what it sounds like. Here is one basic variation:

1) Cut two armholes into a large, double-layer rectangle shape. See the sides of the rectangle together up to the bottom of the sleeve. 

2) Line the armholes

3) Make a casing at the top of each side for lace, ribbon, or fabric strip to wrap through

4) Hem the dress

5) Thread the lace, ribbon, or fabric strip through one side and then the other

The ribbon ties over one shoulder.

Or if you're a doll, the casing could be (and was) sacrificed for Velcro on one side. The doll pajamas were designed using a large triangle with sleeves and an opening for the head, with a pair of stretchy pants to match. 

The bigger dress was definitely more fun to make, but the fact they match each other just makes me grin with glee. I love knowing something I've made brought someone else joy.

Questions? Comments? Please share!

Funny Bone Syndrome: It's a real thing

When I was a kid and teenager, I crocheted all the time. Blankets, rags, potholders, whatever I felt like. Mostly blankets. One time when I was 17 I fell in love with this one blanket pattern and I got so caught up in it I crocheted two blankets in the same day. 14 hours of non-stop crocheting and listening to the soundtrack from The Lord of the Rings (#1). Two blankets in the same day! I felt so accomplished and crafty. It felt amazing!

Then, the next day, I noticed something strange. Holding my toothbrush was excruciating. My hands had the strength of a paper doll. At first I wasn't worried. I played drums in percussion ensemble at school, typed a lot on the yearbook staff, I was learning sign language and I'd just kicked that crochet blanket pattern's booty in a single day. Maybe my hands really were just tired.

But it didn't go away. For two weeks I ignored the numbing in my pinkies and ring fingers. Sometimes they got so numb I couldn't even feel them. Then the aching came; this was the tipping point. I could hardly do anything without first consciously asking myself whether it was worth the pain of flexing my hands.

Friends, this is called two things: overdoing it and severe tendonitis. By the time I got to physical therapy for treatment the scar tissue around my ulnar nerves ("funny bones") was so bad it sounded like crackling paper when touched.

Don't let this happen to you.

That was ten years ago. I still suffer from numbness and tingling sometimes. When tendonitis of this nature happens so frequently it is medically referred to as Ulnar Nerve Entrapment, also called "Funny Bone Syndrome".

My message: pace yourself. Educate yourself. Learn the risks of overuse and listen to your body when it tells you to slow down. If it's happening to you now, get treatment! I had to give up crochet because I didn't know my limits. If it someday means I have to give up sewing too...I don't know what could possibly take it's place.

Don't let it happen to you.

Got a cautionary tale of your own? I'd love to hear about it. Please comment below.