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Seven-Step Applique for Garments and Banners

Since it’s that time when people start having Pennsic Panic, and think “I need a heraldic surcote, or jupon, or apron dress, or something fancy…” I wrote up a short, somewhat disorganized tutorial on how to applique things onto other things.

Suffice to say that I’m not gifted with a needle (well, not one attached to a sewing machine at least) so trust me that if I can accomplish something with this, anyone can.

Decide what you want to do – a dress, a banner, a tabard, and if it’s a garment, complete the garment or at least the part of the garment you’re going to applique on. Don’t do the lining part yet, but you may baste it on to give light fabrics extra support. If you’re doing a banner, you will want to baste the lining on in advance, or your item will go all wonkedy-whumpus and sag in weird places.

 You will need:

Your applique fabric/s
A roll of iron-on adhesive with paper backing
A Sharpie-like marker
Your design printed to scale (I print the thing in tiles and tape them)
A wicked-hot iron
An ironing board / covered solid surface
Nice sharp scissors for cutting paper and cloth both (together and separately)

STEP  ONE

Assemble your materials.

Get fabric that matches that of your garment or item – you need to use the same fabric on the applique as the fabric it’s being sewn to (wool to wool, linen to linen, etc.)

Get iron-on stuff (the kind with two backings) at the craft store – like Heat n Bond; get it in the roll if you can – for big appliques. It’s usually with sewing notions and quilting stuff I think at the craft/sewing store. I like the heavier-weight stuff, it worked better for me.

STEP TWO

Lay out your to-scale drawing.

Lay out your bond paper over itand trace the design with sharpie markers, using the bond paper as tracing paper.  You can also trace with a light projector, or do it freehand if you’re gifted at that kind of thing.

Rough-cut out your traced design in the bond paper, giving yourself a good amount of space to cut it out accurately after – 1/2 inch at least around every line. You can be sloppier if you want to – you’re going to trim on the design line later anyway.

**Be sure you figure out what direction you want your item on your garment, and consider that before you set the glue paper. If you realize you need to reverse, turn the paper over and trace the design on the reverse.**

STEP THREE

Iron your applique fabric so that it’s smooth, as much as you can.

Remove the paper from one side of your cutout bond paper.

Lay the bond paper cutout on the fabric and pin it if you need to (if it’s really big).

Iron the adhesive paper to the applique fabric. Follow the directions on the bond paper package.

 STEP FOUR

Cut out the fabric now to your traced/drawn lines. Keep close to your drawn lines, and keep your cutting nice and tidy. This is what the applique will look like, unless you’re doing a lot of embroidery on the edge. For some things that will not be stitched, but only bonded this way, this is the final edge.

Let the piece cool.

STEP FIVE

Prepare the thing you’re appliqueing. You’ll want to be sure it’s ironed.

Remove the paper backing from your applique piece.

Carefully place the applique on the garment. Now is the time for any final trimming or adjusting.

Iron the applique onto your item.

Let it cool.

STEP SIX

There is no step number six.

STEP SEVEN

Add stitching or embellishing (paint, spangles, beads, etc) to your piece. Stitch around it in the way you like best – hand, by machine, etc.  Some people leave it without stitching, and you can, but stitching is often beautiful and helps secure it.

Finish sewing the item  / garment / complete sewing the lining or backing / etc.

Go out and look awesome.

* * *

NOTES –

  • You can also iron smaller pieces onto the main piece, if you wish. Realize that the addition of the bond does add another layer, so you’ll want a really beefy needle for hand-embroidery or embellishing.
  • You can use scrap fabric to a point – you just need to be sure you get bits to line up on the bond layer so they will look ok once ironed down. It’s prettier (though wasteful) to use a whole swath of fabric, and there’s something to be said about cutting out smaller pieces. You just have to be ready to assemble them on the item to be embellished. I strongly suggest numbering things like leaves that have similar size but go in some purposeful order.
  • You don’t *have* to use the same fabrics on same fabrics, but it looks nicer, I think.
  • I have been cautioned against using synthetic “felt” on things – try to get wool felt if you can. I understand that the synthetic felt pills, and pulls, and falls apart more quickly, and since you’re putting a lot of work into this anyway, it’s worth it to do it right at that point.
  • You can also go straight to the “cut the fabric” stage, and use a fabric glue, and then stitch it down. I think the paper-backed stuff is more fool-proof, though it’s extra steps and a little more expensive. The gigantic amount of bond does really help it stay on though, and it makes it firm enough that cutting is easier. The bond-sheet also keeps the fraying down on the edges you’ve cut.
  • Here’s a video about using iron-on adhesive.
    http://www.ehow.com/video_4945615_ironing-adhesive-paper-applique.html

 

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Truly A War of the Roses

Red the rose for passion, love, and beauty.
White the rose of honor, reverence, and truth.
Which rose to pluck from trembling stem?
Which rose shall I present my love?

This War of the Roses marks a special anniversary for me. It was the event when it was decided that I would take the field and bear a banner for King Lucan and Queen Jana for the East. (Also a time when I wondered what on earth I was getting myself into!) After time around the fire with unbelted champions who became my muses, it was the the time I began to wish to be a war bard for those who had lit a fire in my heart. To inspire with words and song, to share and increase the love of the field and the fighters upon it, to don the armor and bear the spear with those who would become my brothers and sisters – these were the seeds sown in my soul’s rich, spring soil.

And I did.

This Roses, one year later, was one of choices – to put on armor and hold spear on the field and fight (which I am not very good at) or join my friends in a bardic tournament on field’s edge on the theme of inspiration (which I’m much better at doing.)

At other times, I had a heart-war of wanting to be too many places at once, and having just so much me and just so much time. While I am always busy at events, and fluttering from here to there, this one was harder than most because the two places bring me very different kinds of joy. Red rose, white rose. I suppose my bright pink dress spoke well of my conflict – wanting both, feeling like I was neither.

In the end, I missed the bardic tournament due to the first two battle scenarios, and then missed the third due to war brothers and sisters who thought I was too red and not sweaty enough. (They were right.) Also, this battle I was not tenderly coddled by my brothers as tender bard-thing, taking the field for her King. I was a soldier of the Northern Army, with as much right to be beaten as anyone. Nobody would rescue me this time, though more sage warriors, knowing my skills, would make kindly suggestions like “Behind me would be a better place for you in this one.” But I knew that there would not be a gauntlet firmly pulling me back from danger. I would be bruised or not on my own merits. As it was, I killed some in the field battle, died some in the field battle, froze in immobile uselessness on the bridge as though I had never seen a spear at my arm before, and for it, earned no kills but two bruises. My helm was uncooperative, my gigantic spear nearly useless in my hands. My breathing labored. What on earth was I afraid of? I felt novice, and foolish, and frustrated and I wanted desperately to do my brothers and sisters better. I felt a poor war bard for a while — one with laryngitis of spirit, too tired and confused to raise her voice. (Later though, I was given great praise for taking the field and missing my singing, which had the irony of being greater inspiration to some than had I sung at all. Inspiration is a curious thing.)

That evening, all of the beauty of the chaos of joy surrounding the elevation of Aife to Mistress Aife, and the amazing bardic arranged by Master Toki for the occasion (for which I am touched and gladdened and humbled to have been a part), surrounded me. But my secret introvert was in full swing, and I both desperately wanted to stay and be a part of this amazing musical community, but also retreat to a quiet place, where I could avoid any attention. I realize that I do not like to be in the midst of things without a job to do. It is harder on me than one may think. Huge crowds – wonderful. Tiny groups – intimate and lovely. Inbetween – well nigh the stuff of nightmares, no matter how much I love the people around. I need a task to tend to in those, lest I go mad, or hide.

I was also torn – for as kind as Vestfell was, and as good as their hospitality, I also missed my friends at Pembridge terribly, and I see them all so seldom. I traveled back for forth across the road many times, often thinking I ought to just lay down in the middle of it as a personal compromise.

So amid the wanting to be everywhere and nowhere, and torn between the field and the fire – I found myself in a quandary of great magnitude about the path I would take in the year before me…and how to assess if the path was what I wanted it to be.

The path of the past year had been that of an Eastern Champion, a role I loved and took to heart. I did whatever my Kings asked of me – I was blessed that they asked often and much. (Though had they asked me to go sit below the trees and be silent, that also would have been my job!) This year, there is less direction and so the path is wide, with many splits in the road. I have some favors and obligations to do, but they are all my choice. And at some point, I will have to choose one thing over another thing, for there is just one me.

But how to choose with care! I do not want to be a showboat, or a buffoon, though I can merrily play up those aspects when I choose. Neither am I suited to be a war-goddess, though I can be a singing simple footsoldier. I want to perform in a circle, but not too often, for I wish others to stand in the light. I want to inspire, not FOR me but THROUGH me – and how to achieve that delicate balance is something that I am searching to learn. How to be the conduit – so that it comes from me, but it is not about me.

When I hear that the rules of the list are watched on a hard day to cheer, or that a morning drive is shortened by a song simply but lovingly recorded, or that the memory of a song sung in armor on a hot day helps hold the line, or that I have made a warrior stronger by his weeping – I feel that perhaps I can manage it.

But now, with the bruises of spear-kisses on my arms from the bridge battle a ready memory of fingers damp with stewed mutton from the Pembridge cooking fires, and the wondrous elevation of my truly talented, beautiful friend, I have cause to consider the path I am on, and the path before me.

How to choose where to turn when the path splits? Left or right? High or low? Smooth or rocky?

I realized that really, when it came to the choosing of the larger path to find my role in the Society it boiled down to simple questions:

“Do I do this thing for the glory of the Kingdom or do I do this for the glory of me?”

Which will be the beneficiary of my action? The answer may be that it is good for both. Or for one. Or for the other. It may be that it is an act for self, but it benefits the kingdom. It could be that it benefits the kingdom at the expense of oneself. And if it is an action that only benefits oneself, it may be perfectly fine, but one needs be honest about it.

But the important part is to have considered the answer, then choose the action.

And one which I pray that I may heed in all things, and be honest about at all times.

It is a good lesson after a good war.

The white when pricked doth bloom with red
In time red’s beauty fades to white
Both fall snow-like to the ground
Their time known but to God above.

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Painting glass in the early European style -Venice

I recently was thinking of stuff I did long ago, and if it could apply to my medieval bent. I remembered being in Chicago at the Art Institute last year, where I saw some medieval and Renaissance painted glass beakers from Germany and Italy. I thought of how I had painted things on glass (I once even had a paying commission for two martini glasses with a whimsical city theme!) But mostly I painted silly things for my own amusement – very happy root vegetables, rabbits, birds on phone wires….

But today at the craft store there were glass paints on clearance so I bought them, and sat down tonight with some pictures to inspire me, and here’s what I got from tonight’s try of a long-forgotten thing. I am pretty clumsy and have forgotten the nice ratios I used to have to thin the enamel, but hey, there it is….

I used the Aldrevandini beaker in the British Museum collection as my inspiration, since it’s mostly leaves, frankly, and not finely detailed pictures of people doing something fun or useful. I think I can almost handle leaves. A photo of it is at the bottom.

Thanet glass, front view
I used heraldry as a motif, like the original glass. Though mine is a little more wonky.
Thanet glass, side view
I used the floral and leaf motif from the original as well, and yes, they are parti-colored in the original one as well.
Thanet glass, side detail
Detail of flower-leaf-thing.
Thanet glass, three quarter view
Side-ish view of the jar, with leaves. The little yellow flowers are in the original as well.
Practice jar, painted enamel in the Venetial style
I used a jam jar for practice, especially fitting since it's one I am often teased about by a house brother, because I use it for the dragging about of cordials (I just hate corks for stuff you have to keep re-corking! Just give me a gol-darned screw top, period be dashed!) So I blinged it up Thanet style.

This is the piece which was the inspiration for the work. It’s obviously a totally different style of glass, not a jam jar, and it really shows that I need to thin out the enamel somewhat to get a finer line to work with, but overall, I think it’s not the worst start of things, given the last time I picked up a paint brush.

 

The Aldrevandini Beaker - British Museum
The Aldrevandini beaker is a uniquely well-preserved example from a group of glass vessels produced in Venice at the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth century.

 

More to come, surely.

 

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The Tale of Titus

THIS, THIS is what happens when you issue a challenge to a bard girl when she is grumpy over something unrelated. YOU may become the VICTIM of CREATIVITY.

Just like Titus.

Let this be a cautionary tale to the rest of you.

You can listen to the 3-am draft-singing-at-my-desk recording here. It’s rough, but it’s here…You can even learn it and sing it whenever you see Titus. I’m sure he’d love it. He’s a Roman. They like attention. (This tune may change before you hear me actually sing it live, but the chorus will stay the same. Promise.)

Now the Romans they are noted for their finely pav-ed roads
And they have given us a history and conquered those in woads
They did this wearing dresses and with fine, delicate shoes,
and showed if you fight a Roman, you’ll very likely lose.

Among these warrior people a man stands on his own
he wears a carven chest plate, and strong legs with lovely tone
Known better by his charming smile than even his name
Once you’ve met Titus Claudius, you’ll never be the same.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

It’s true he wears a tunic and walks with his legs bare
And like all the good Roman boys he neatly trims his hair
He boasts with the best of them…when a sword is in his hand
Ask the ladies who hang at the field – he’s known throughout the land

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

He is always quick to offer a cup of Roman wine
And with the glass a compliment to make a lady shine
His hands are quick to offer, with a kiss when they are clasped,
And two arms to firmly rescue those who’ve fainted as he passed.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

He’ll lay hands on a shoulder that was recently at war
with one tender touch it’s obvious those hands were meant for more
as he soothes away the aches and pains in body and in soul
To be injured for his healing could soon become a goal…

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

Oh he’s a lover and a fighter
a healer and a thief
He’ll own a heart a strongly
as a noble holds a fief
He’ll blush just like a maiden
then deliver a coy wink
don’t under estimate the Romans,
for they’re smarter than you think.

 

 

 

 ps) there you go Serena! And thanks Laurie!

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Wait for the War to be Over

This song is featured on the CD “I Am of the North” available for purchase online at:  http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/aneledafalconbridge/

I have brought in the wheat,
Worked the land with the plow.
I have done all that weather and time would  allow
But it isn’t the same without you somehow
As I wait for the war to be over

I have mended the thatching
The roof is quite strong
I’ve done all the tasks that I knew all along
As I winnow and thresh I almost hear your song
As I wait for the war to be over

There are many dried fish
And root vegetables too
And the berry preserves that I learned to do
But none tastes as good as when I’m with you
As I wait for the war to be over

The hens are still laying
And the meats are all cured
Your unit is headed far north I have heard
We mend and we work as we listen for word
As I wait for the war to be over

When we hear the call
That we’ve finished the strife
I will mount up our boy for the ride of our life
And we will have back then our mother and wife
As we wait for the war to be over.
This song is for my husband, and it’s about my year on the road as a champion. He took care of our son, and our home, and me, so that I could have my grand adventure. And I can’t thank him enough. It was written in the late fall of 2011.