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One taketh one Ikea lace curtain....
Feb. 12th, 2014 08:25 amAs a custom dressmaker I hope to never to become a seamstress for curtains. As interesting as having a job and income is, we dressmakers always look down on people who sew curtains. After all, how hard can it be, sewing straight lines all day?
For one's own home, we might be persuaded to dabble in curtaining for a little while. In Tilburg I hemmed standard-sized curtains to our windowsill's height, and now that I'm readying my bedroom in Eindhoven I thought I'd easily hem those to size too.
After Eisirt put up the curtain rods, I quickly added some hooks to the curtains and determined their length. The hems should just not quite touch the radiators underneath. We measured for the blue curtains and I added a little curtain snap through the lace curtains. So far so good!
Having bought dark blue Blekviva curtains and a matching flowery lace curtain with scalloped edges, my muse stirred and whispered the dreaded words: "Wouldn't it be nice..."
Whole villages evacuate when their totem shaman whispers these words to herself, but I was a blind fool and agreed. I should have known better. Yes, indeed, it would be very nice to have the scalloped edge of the lace curtains continue down the hem of the curtains. I should have enough scalloped edge left over on the bits that I would cut off from the bottom to do this.
I set out to work last night. The lace curtains were cut to size and I very carefully cut the scalloped edge off at an equal distance (4 cm at the widest point) in a straight line. Following the scallops makes for a more invisible sewing line, but I was inspired, not crazy. After all, a hem would be a straight line too. I sewed the scallops into a long ribbon, matching scallops by overlapping them a bit, and got ready to sew the thus-made 'trim' to the bottom of my lace curtain.
And then whispered my muse: "But if you sew it like this, the scallops won't continue all the way around."
I was a little sceptical (the rest of the inhabitants of Little Waterchick Falls were already stuffing goats in their suitcases and tugging on yak's leashes, as they heard the rythmic chanting of their totem shaman starting up in the background) but decided to give it a shot. It shouldn't be too hard. I stitched a 45 degree dart in my scalloped "trim". I pressed the dart to one side and checked whether it folded the right way. I started stitching the scallop trim to my curtain.
And then came the other edge.
Honestly, it should have been just like mitered corners in a quilt, but somehow it really wasn't anything like it. I haven't a clue why it didn't work the way it should have, but perhaps my attitude towards curtain seamstresses might have something to do with it. I slowly worked up some respect for this nephew of my profession as I plodded on and tried to remove the invisible stitches from the holes of the lace.
After an hour of fidgeting, I finally had the blasted corner in place and the lace curtain submitted to my will. I realised it was time for a shower and bed. The other six corners would just have to wait.
For one's own home, we might be persuaded to dabble in curtaining for a little while. In Tilburg I hemmed standard-sized curtains to our windowsill's height, and now that I'm readying my bedroom in Eindhoven I thought I'd easily hem those to size too.
After Eisirt put up the curtain rods, I quickly added some hooks to the curtains and determined their length. The hems should just not quite touch the radiators underneath. We measured for the blue curtains and I added a little curtain snap through the lace curtains. So far so good!
Having bought dark blue Blekviva curtains and a matching flowery lace curtain with scalloped edges, my muse stirred and whispered the dreaded words: "Wouldn't it be nice..."
Whole villages evacuate when their totem shaman whispers these words to herself, but I was a blind fool and agreed. I should have known better. Yes, indeed, it would be very nice to have the scalloped edge of the lace curtains continue down the hem of the curtains. I should have enough scalloped edge left over on the bits that I would cut off from the bottom to do this.
I set out to work last night. The lace curtains were cut to size and I very carefully cut the scalloped edge off at an equal distance (4 cm at the widest point) in a straight line. Following the scallops makes for a more invisible sewing line, but I was inspired, not crazy. After all, a hem would be a straight line too. I sewed the scallops into a long ribbon, matching scallops by overlapping them a bit, and got ready to sew the thus-made 'trim' to the bottom of my lace curtain.
And then whispered my muse: "But if you sew it like this, the scallops won't continue all the way around."
I was a little sceptical (the rest of the inhabitants of Little Waterchick Falls were already stuffing goats in their suitcases and tugging on yak's leashes, as they heard the rythmic chanting of their totem shaman starting up in the background) but decided to give it a shot. It shouldn't be too hard. I stitched a 45 degree dart in my scalloped "trim". I pressed the dart to one side and checked whether it folded the right way. I started stitching the scallop trim to my curtain.
And then came the other edge.
Honestly, it should have been just like mitered corners in a quilt, but somehow it really wasn't anything like it. I haven't a clue why it didn't work the way it should have, but perhaps my attitude towards curtain seamstresses might have something to do with it. I slowly worked up some respect for this nephew of my profession as I plodded on and tried to remove the invisible stitches from the holes of the lace.
After an hour of fidgeting, I finally had the blasted corner in place and the lace curtain submitted to my will. I realised it was time for a shower and bed. The other six corners would just have to wait.
