Ciao again, dearest Needleworkers!
Here I am again with another sewing episode; this time I am finally (mostly!) completing a pair of brand new underpants - created from an old piece of linen with beautiful triangular flower embroidery on it:
gratuitous million-dollar view shot, to help advertise my Italian Arthouse For Sale!
If I make a second pair of knickers from the second wee linen, I may do a more tutorial-like post, but I prefer to get immersed spontaneously and intuitively - and cannot always interrupt this flow to think with my 'logical' brain and take photos... This is a vital aspect of deep creativity: it cannot always be explained whilst it is happening!
Nevertheless! Here are various details and some insight into how the process unfolded... As well as some questions about the size of our underwears!
The embroidery details caught me immediately, on the one euro linen stall at the Sunday market in Guardia Sanframondi (Italy, where I live): I had an instant vision of this being a pair of knickers - and was thinking of whether it would look-feel best on the front or the back of them?
I also began to think about the size they'd have to be, if they weren't in stretchy material: how will they attach, where will they need to be elasticated or have fixings?
I wanted to make a really simple 'design', and started by cutting these basic front and back shapes, and I decided that I most needed the embroidery flowers against my lower back. It is coming to me a lot, the urge to make magical clothing, to give protection and power to the subtle body; this is an important project in going with my instinct about that.
It also came to me that the gusset lining - which here is made from a glorious purple silk scrap from a dress I'd take a lot of material off of - wanted to be darker, or more red at least. I tried lots of different ideas, including doing a standard white stretch cotton gusset lining, but this material called to me:
Once the basic shape was in place, I had a fiddley moment of trying them on, using safety pins and mirror: it was clear that they were a pretty far from a good fit - so I had to decide how to fix the sides closed. I thought about various loops and suchlike, lacings, or a stretchy material like I've used lately on various smaller knickers that I've been widening... My final decision was around a simple 'extension' piece of the same cotton, from the cut-off material from the same origin:
This was a great part of not documenting: because I was just working immersed in it, I naturally let go and let the solution come; if I had been thinking in steps and how to explain it to others, I'd have got tripped up at this part.
I really loved how my machine stitch went alongside the older and original stitching. And as the final size began to take shape, I saw how big the pants were - and it really got me thinking: how conditioned we are to having tiny wee underwears, as if that makes our body smaller!
Why do we allow ourselves to think that we should be taking up less space than we actually need??
And what does it feel like to wear a cotton underwear which is actually the size that we are?
I now have to make 10 buttonhole stitching finishings - that will take a while!
These questions had a big effect on my finishing the knickers: taking care and a lot of time over the buttons and buttonholes (which are still to be done!) - it made me think of how I could have made a much smaller pair, more stretchy and unnatural, and how they would be clinging onto my body and interrupting my lymphatic system... Nevermind new synthetic materials - which are leaching toxicity directly into the body via the skin.
It is an incredible transition moving back to pure, natural and reclaimed materials like this lovely cool cotton. Especially for underwear, where the skin absorbs most directly into bloodstream and whole body.
It feels strange to wear a knicker which doesn't tightly grip around me... Like when I made my own bra-lette, it is such a different sensation, having the sensual material be next to but not grabbing the skin and muscles. It is a revelation to see how big a proper-sized pair of knickers actually are - and a great joy to have the lovingly-hand-stitched needleworkwork of the embroidery to give a beautiful layer of gorgeous, feminine protection to my lower back and pelvis... This feeds my strength of identity through helping me focus my posture.
