A Bluestocking Knits

Aprons, Aprons

I made two more of these aprons from my grandma's pattern, one for my sister and one for my cousin.

My sister wears mostly black, so when I saw this black-and-white floral fabric, I knew it was the one.  Unfortunately, it was either not even close to 44" wide or it shrank a lot, so it wasn't nearly wide enough when it came to cutting, and so I ended up making it a little shorter in order to have some fabric to add to the circumference.  Cross-grain, too, but it couldn't be helped.  Luckily for me, the pattern is so busy that you can barely see the piecing!

I put the bias edging all of the way around the pockets on this version.  Not entirely successful, but that was my fault, I'm pretty sure, besides being black thread on black fabric!

(These photos aren't great, but I was on my way to wrapping up the aprons when I realized I hadn't taken photos yet, and the sky was so dark with rainclouds that the only place I could get enough light was right in front of the open front door -- and then it got even darker, and I had to move to the front porch!  There was no way I was going to complain about it raining, believe you me.)

This one is reversible, with two bright Kaffe Fassett fabrics ("Antwerp Flowers" and "Winter Strata").  I bought an extra half-yard of the stripes so that I could lay the pattern cross-wise and have the stripes going up-and-down.

I debated with myself for a long time about whether to mix the fabrics for the pockets, and in the end I decided, yes, to put the flowers on the stripes and vice versa.  Since I had extra striped fabric, I made those pockets a little bit bigger and squared-off, too, just for variety.

The button(s) perforce have to be on both sides, which necessitates two shanked buttons in the same spot, but I didn't really see any way around this, so I hope it won't be awkward.  Maybe the fabrics will make up for that!

Turning a Shirt Collar

A post from completely cauchy partly about handwork and enjoying the experience of the process of making -- cooking, needlework, sewing -- made me remember the shirts hanging on the back of our bedroom door, waiting for me to turn the collars.  David is rather hard on his shirts, his work "with computers" being only partly a desk job -- often he is instead out in the field, crawling behind hardware racks, up ladders, under dolly track, &c. &c. &c.  Sometimes he'll come home and say, "Sorry, honey," with a tear in the middle of his (new!!) shirt, but more often it's just the collar that gets worn down over time.  For a while, I was just saying "oh well!" and cutting the perfectly-good remaining fabric into squares for a quilt-to-be, but then I realized that I could turn the collars, as women have done for decades if not longer, to extend the lives of their menfolks' shirts.  (Now, I realize that this might make me sound like one of those ultra-conservative wife-stays-at-home women, and I'm actually quite liberal and feminist, but I also happen to be one of those lucky ones who can still afford to stay home with the kids, and so I think it's only fair that I economize where I can.  It also doesn't come quite naturally to me to do so, to be honest, but that's all the more reason to reassure anyone who stops by here that it isn't difficult to turn a shirt collar, and why not take half an hour to save yourself twenty bucks, and reduce your carbon footprint while you're at it?!)

I hadn't done this for a while, so I looked up a tutorial or two the other day, and was saddened to find a number of comments on boards and whatnot saying, "it's too hard!" or "ugh, I just buy a new shirt".  It's not hard at all -- and I am still what I consider to be an advanced beginner at sewing, or maybe a beginning intermediate, so if I think it's easy, it really is.  For some reason, I find this a lot less trouble than setting a collar in a new shirt -- maybe the fact that the fabric is already used to being a collar, as it were -- so if that's putting you off, don't let it.  The only thing you really do need is a sewing machine, as while it certainly can be done without one, I wouldn't call it a simple matter then, unless perhaps you're a re-enactor! and used to stitching miles and miles of seams by hand.

I haven't seen the extra step of pinning both sides of the collar in other tutorials or instructions, but I've found it very helpful, myself.

How to Turn a Shirt Collar

You can’t turn collars with sewn-in stays or with pockets on the underside for removable stays, but you can certainly turn plain ones that look the same on front and back, including button-down collars. Some higher-end shirts draft the collar with a slightly narrower piece of fabric on the underside, so that the collar curves subtly around the neck when worn, but most mid-range dress shirts can certainly have their collars turned with good results. It is not difficult, even for a determined beginner, and takes less than a half-hour!

You can also turn worn sleeve cuffs the same way, but you will have to do both cuffs, and switch the left and right cuffs when you turn them inside out, so that the buttons and holes will be facing the “right” way!

Carefully pick out the existing stitches, using a seam ripper. Start at least an inch or so from the end of the collar, and work on the outside of the collar stand, the part that is covered when the collar is folded, and aiming the ripper towards the stand, so that if the ripper slips, the right-side-to-be of the collar doesn't get damaged.

There may be two lines of original stitching, the seam and a line of top-stitching -- don't try to pick out the top-stitching first, as this is crazy-making.  Just winkle out a stitch or two from the seam itself -- once you get an inch or so open, it will go much easier.  If it helps, go ahead and pick out some of the top-stitching first.

There will probably be a line of basting stitches, which you can see in this photo, basting together the two sides of the collar and its interfacing -- leave these in place.  You don't need to worry about accidentally picking them out, as they are usually far enough away from the seam you are ripping.

Once you have ripped out a good section, work back in the other direction until you just release the end of the collar from the stand.  Having this point still secured will help you to center the flipped collar back into the stand evenly.

Clean off any remaining loose threads, and flip over the collar so that the worn part will be underneath when the collar is folded down.

Pin the collar back into place, between the two sides of the stand, matching up the original line of stitches. Start with a pin at each end, then another pin at each end, working your way towards the center back, making sure that the collar is completely flat and smooth in the stand.  Pin through just the side of the stand facing you, and the collar, with the pins about 1 1/2 to 2 inches apart.

Now turn the shirt over and pin the other side, again catching just the side of the stand facing you and the collar, with a pin between the pins on the other side -- this will help keep everything in place as you sew, without bunching up multiple layers of fabric and interfacing in every pin.

Sew along the original line of stitching, taking your time, and making sure to catch all three layers – inner band, collar, and outer band. Back stitch at each end, where the stress on the collar is greatest.

Press thoroughly with lots of steam.

The turned collar may not lie exactly the same as it did before for a while, because the fabric on the original underside has been curved in one direction for the life of the shirt, and now you are curving it in the other direction, but it will settle down, certainly after a few washings.  The wrinkles in the original underside, which you can see in the above photo, will smooth out now that the underside is the new outside (and, yes, the new underside will probably develop some wrinkles of its own now!).

Enjoy the extended life of your shirt!

Juggling Balls

Since juggling is an inherently cheerful thing, I decided to lighten the mood this week by making some balls for David, who has often expressed a wistful interest in learning to juggle.

The tutorial is from Amiel Martin, a clever pattern that went together fairly easily out of four smallish strips of fabric, backed with fusible interfacing and filled with flax seed (wh. bought in bulk cost about a dollar and a half to fill all four balls).  It gets a little origami-like towards the end, as the "ball" begins to really become three-dimensional, but the photos in the tutorial are clear enough that with a little examination it's more fiddly than difficult.  I like the way the strips wrap around three sides of the cube!  The fabrics I used are two bright Kaffe Fassett prints, left over from a project which I will show after Christmas.  The shape and the flax seed filling help keep the balls from rolling away from you as you practice!

Lest you think I'm getting good at sewing, I must offer this --

all four are like this on the second side, so I would suggest that instead of carefully matching the first set of seams, just go ahead and do it without looking, and both Xs will be just a little off, instead of one being perfect and one really wonky!

These ended up weighing a little over 150g each, and are about the size of a baseball.

"Apron for B"

Some time ago my mom gave me an apron pattern that my grandma had made from newspaper, which upon closer inspection I realized was the pattern for the apron Mom has had for just about as long as I can remember, so when I recently found a remnant I'd picked up somewhere that had a groovy late-60s vibe, I decided to make one for myself.

This red-and-black one is the original apron.  The newspaper doesn't have the date on it, but it has ads for "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever" and "Airport" and "Song of Norway", which premieres-in-the-present-tense November 10, 1970.

I don't have very many things left that Grandma sewed -- and she was a master seamstress, especially I remember at coordinating Easter dresses for us four cousins! but it seemed there was always something going on the sewing machine in her bedroom, and stray pins in the carpet -- so this apron is fun for me to see her stitching.  She took a shortcut with the bias edging, and just sewed it on all at once with a zigzag stitch, but I don't hold that against her at all.  There is also a little, erm, digression on the button facing, but she was getting on for seventy by then!

Mom doesn't actually wear an apron that much any more, but this one obviously saw quite a bit of use back in the day.

Here is my version --

I made a few changes -- I did make it longer than the paper pattern, as Grandma suggested, but first cut a 1 1/2" strip across the grain of the fabric at one end to use as the ties, then extended the length of the apron the full length of the remaining fabric.  (I prefer narrow ties on my aprons, but I found after wearing Mom's a few times that the narrow-bias-tape ties are too narrow for my liking.)  I made two pockets -- why not, there were two pieces left from the armholes! -- and cut the two little facing triangles from the selvedge edge so that I wouldn't have to hem them.  I also did a turned hem on the top of the pockets, instead of using the bias tape edging, and I did felled seams at the shoulder because I loves 'em.

The apron from my scant yard of remnant is just finger-length.  I should have made the straps a smidge wider, as they were just too narrow to sew them inside-out and turn them, which I prefer, but there it is.  I used two packages of narrow bias edging, with quite a bit left from the second package.

My stitching certainly isn't going to win any prizes -- I can't seem to "stitch in the ditch" for anything, as the wobbly bits in these photos prove, but it's an apron, and I'm happy!

I did not plan, by the way, for the fabric pattern at the button closure to match so nearly perfectly! a happy accident, to be sure.

 

Remaking the Green Jerkin

This morning I finished replacing the sleeves of David's Tudor jerkin with wings.  When I made this three years ago, I didn't think to put in some extra ease to accommodate the shirt sleeves, which are rather voluminous -- so the jerkin was always snug in the arms, which was not only a little less than comfortable in itself, but a little warmer in Southern-California-Elizabethan climes than David quite liked.  He didn't complain, as it happens, but when I offered to remake the jerkin, he said, "Yes, please!"

First, I carefully picked out all of the stitching and removed the sleeves.

Since I needed just the one pattern piece and I am still not very good at drawing curves freehand, I scanned the pattern from the Tudor Tailor book, cropped it to the surrounding gridlines, then resized the image so that each square was more-or-less one inch, and printed it out.  Luckily, I had scraps of the same fabric exactly the right size!

I folded and pressed the new wings, pinned them into place -- made sure they were symmetrical -- and sewed them to the armholes.

I graded the seam allowances this time, which I hadn't before as it was only the one turning of the outer fabric and lining each, but now it's three layers of the outer.  Since I'd clipped the lining quite a lot around the armhole curves, I had to press all of the little resulting tabs, because they were more than a little wonky after three Faires and laundering, but I wanted to understitch the lining, and so it needed to be fairly smooth.

That was the easy part -- then I pinned the lining and outer fabric back together at the original fold lines, with a lot of pins, and sewed it all up by hand.

The wings look a bit newer than the rest of the jerkin, but I'm sure this won't last long!

Understitching was a must, since despite a thorough pre-washing, the unbleached muslin I used as a lining fabric shrank more after sewing, and some of the hems are pooching rather unattractively.

I couldn't seem to find any information about historical methods of understitching, so I just worked a line in a zig-zag, so that what is visible are the zags, as it were -- thought it might hold down all of the little clips in the lining seam allowance better than just a straight line, but also I rather like the little slants!

There will be some more fiddling with this jerkin, as the Venetian hose (sort of ur-trousers) stay up not with a belt but with "points" or ties to the inside waist of the jerkin -- I'm not sure yet if I'm going to just tack on this eyelet-infused lacing strip or take the waist apart altogether to sew it in, and take the opportunity to fix that saggy hem at the same time.

What is the difference between a doublet and a jerkin?  Not much, to be honest, but the Tudor Tailor calls this a jerkin, in both of its forms, viz. with sleeves or without.  The Renaissance Tailor says that a jerkin is much less fitted than a doublet, which makes sense in light both of the Tudor Tailor's pattern's shape and in the jerkin's frequent appearance in period clothing as a garment worn over a doublet.

A Banner Day

I took the time from David's Faire stocking this morning to sew up a banner for our Girl Scout International Day (a.k.a. Thinking Day) this weekend.  Our girls are putting it all on this year, from planning to clean-up, and as the hosts they are representing not a country but the World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts, or WAGGGS for short.  I was astonished to find that there is apparently no such thing as a WAGGGS banner for sale, not even for ready money, so homemade felt banner it is.  After ten years (ten years!) of summer day camp, I've had a bit of experience with glued-felt banners and, while they're great for a week, they can get a bit ratty-looking after a while, and you can't really store them easily as the glued areas are difficult to fold, and so I offered to sew it, so that the banner can be re-used year after year.

I got an outline image of the logo, and made a "poster" in Publisher, with "WAGGGS" underneath, and printed it out for the pattern, then the girls cut out all of the felt pieces and pinned them into place.  I used felt from a bolt for the blue background and the trefoil symbol, as I wanted them to be all one piece.  I sewed the inner trefoil pieces to the blue circle, then the large yellow outline to both the blue circle and the black banner, since it was so much easier to sew the fiddly pieces to a comparatively small piece than to the big banner.  It took most of the morning to sew, and that's without mistakes (!), but to be honest, this was much quicker than I expected it to be!

(The wobbly bits are the girls' pinning, and the ripples are mine.  I certainly have more respect now for people who can appliqué circles!  Even with felt, the pieces tended to wander under the presser foot.)

As for knitting, I'm afraid that I could have been a lot further along with this stocking if I hadn't been so charmed by that miniature Shirvan carpet!  Since David is away again to Shanghai in a few days, I turned the needlepoint face-down and resolved to knit like billy-o this past weekend -- as a result, I turned the heel yesterday afternoon, and am now about two inches into the foot gusset.  I decided on the so-called Barnim foot, as I like the pair I made for myself, and this type of stocking foot was known in Scandinavia in the early 1600s, so that if David wants a Faire persona, he can stick with the Swedish soldier.  I can get more knitting in while I wait for Julia at the orthodontist's this afternoon ...

Covington Bag

For our road trip this summer, we decided to go and see Hearst Castle, and from there up to Monterey to visit the Aquarium.  I'm usually much more comfortable while museum-going with a cross-body bag, instead of my usual short-handled shoulder purse -- not only for toting around the camera and guide-book, but also for hands-free walking.  So I decided to sew one.  I had two choices, the Covington Bag pattern by Amy Butler, which I've had in my drawer for years -- so long that it is now out-of-print -- or the much simpler shoulder bag from Melissa Wastney of Tiny Happy.  I've made the Tiny Happy bag before, for some Girl Scout outings (to carry water and snacks on nature hikes!) and it's a fine bag and tutorial, but I wanted something with a bit more structure this time, and so I decided to go with the Covington.

You can cinch it up closely, as in the top photo, or leave it open, as below, which gives it a little more tailored look, though obviously a little less security.  The opening isn't huge, so you could also just cinch it a little, and still be fairly safe.

The pattern is a fairly straightforward one, though it does get a bit fiddly in places.

I decided rather on the spur of the moment not to buy anything to make the bag, so this cost me nothing at all -- not even the pattern, since if it's been in your stash for more than five years, it doesn't count, right?  (I bought the pattern around 2006, at the much-lamented Tall Mouse in Yorba Linda, which never survived the move to a much-smaller location in I think 2011, and closed for good a year or two later.)  I used a Moda remnant for the outer fabric, some medium-weight bleached muslin (left over from my curtain adventure a few years ago) and two pairs of worn-out Dockers of David's that I'd been saving for just this sort of thing.  (I'd been thinking Elizabethan stays, but this works too.)  If I had remembered in time that I wanted to lengthen the straps, I might have been able to get all of the "canvas" interfacing from one pair of Dockers, so it was actually a pair and a half.  I didn't have any Timtex for the bottom of the bag, as called for in the pattern, so I used rather a lot of Pellon fusible interfacing, and two pieces of the twill instead.  My bag probably doesn't hold its shape as much as the original, but I'm very pleased with being frugal instead.

The straps are now the full 44" width of my fabric, so that the bag when worn across is just about at my waist -- it's a little high, but such is life.  I didn't want to piece the outer fabric -- I did have to piece the twill, which I did just by laying one end over the other, and sewing it down with zig-zag stitch, so as not to add bulk. 

The only other change I made was on the lining, since unlike the outer bag it doesn't have side pieces, so is just two isosceles trapezoids sewn together.  This resulted in a strange little pyramid pooch of fabric once I'd turned the lining to the inside -- so I pulled it back out and sewed across the corners.  It's not quite the same size as the outer bag now, but I think it's a worthwhile trade-off, not just not having a pooch of fabric there, but also not having the annoyance of losing coins or other small things down in a narrow corner of your bag!

The sides have a little pleat at the middle of the top, which gives just a little more room at the bottom, and add a subtle bit of glamour, I think. 

The bag is a little smaller than I'd pictured it in my mind, but I think it would be a fairly simple matter to enlarge it when making it again.  I didn't want a big bag, anyway -- "Mom, will you carry my [insert here anything the girls don't want to carry themselves]".  I would probably also put a pocket or two on the lining.

These photos, by the way, are taken with my shiny new Canon EOS Rebel T5, which I think is doing a bang-up job so far!

Summer Jammies

With the completion of yet-another-long-unfinished-project in the Blueberry Waffle socks, I allowed myself a little flirt with the sewing machine, and made a pair of summer pyjamas for Julia, who is still wearing fleece and flannel in June because that is all she has that still fits.  (Five-four and growing! at just a few months over thirteen!)  I've had this piece of bright batik in my stash for quite a while -- about a yard and a third -- with the intention of actually making pyjamas for one or the other of the girls, so it's good to have that feeling of accomplishment as well!

This is actually two different patterns, and both free.  The bottoms are Simplicity's Easy PJ Pants 0501, available in a wide range of unisex sizes.  Since I wanted to make a top as well, and it's summer, I made them into shorts.  These pants are even simpler than the original, since I omitted the drawstring ties at the waist.

The top is Colette's Sorbetto tank top pattern.  This pattern seems to be quite popular on the web, partly I'm sure because it comes in sizes 0-18! quite a range.  I omitted the front pleat simply by laying the pattern piece with the pleat stitching line on the fold of the fabric.  I was a bit surprised that the cutting layout has you put each piece on the center fold of the fabric, thereby leaving great swathes of fabric unused at the selvedge edges, and so I arranged my piece of fabric with two folds, with the selvedges meeting in the middle and a fold each to the near and far edges (like a stapled staple, as it were), and got the two pattern pieces cut from 2/3 yard of fabric, instead of the 1 1/2 yards given on the pattern (!), and I still had plenty left over for the bias edging.  I suppose that with the larger sizes you wouldn't be able to do this, but certainly for the smaller ones you can -- this one is a size 0.

And I only made one stupid mistake! which was cutting the bias edging less the seam allowance instead of more, at the last prospective join, so that I had to add a measly inch or so of fabric to get it long enough.  Only one stupid mistake is pretty good for me, so I'm quite pleased with myself, all things considered!

Christmas Kringle

Almond kringle from O&H Bakery, via Trader Joe's.  Thought I'd died and gone to heaven.  There was a pumpkin version just before Thanksgiving, our first taste of this delightful stuff.  Now I find that you can order it online, singly or by the case, in a wide variety of mouth-watering flavors.

But I've not just been eating, I've also been felting -- found an old skein of Super Yarn Mart wool in a bag somewhere, was just about to toss it in the compost when I thought, "No, I'll experiment with another pincushion!"  I knitted up two 6x6-inch squares in garter stitch, sewed them together with an overcast stitch to leave about a half-inch flange around the edges, and filled it with the rest of the skein, chopped up into 1-inch or so lengths.  (This was actually not as difficult as I'd expected, simply hacking the skein with a pair of very sharp sewing scissors.)  I left the flange because I did't want the pincushion to be round.  After it was all sewed up, I tossed it into the laundry with a load of rags, and then the tumble-dryer, I think four or five times over the next few weeks.

It isn't quite as hard as I'd like, but it seems so convenient to make it with just one skein of wool that I'm not terribly disappointed -- it's still pretty firm, anyway, sort of very-ripe-avocado.  It's a good size for a pincushion, big but not too big, about 4 inches "square" and 2 inches high.  The flange has completely disappeared into the body of the pincushion -- I was hoping for a little more edge around it, so I might try a deeper one next time.

Orphan Dollies

On the props list that was sent home recently for the 6th-grade production of "Annie" going up in a couple of weeks was "Tattered Rag Dolls 2 or 3".  I thought to myself, "I bet I could make rag dolls that look like they belong to orphans!" so I poked around on eBay for "1930s rag dolls" and came up with a number of ideas, and searching generally for free patterns brought a few more.  I chose a range of models and patterns because I wanted the dolls to look like they'd been made by different people, and possibly at quite different times.

I even managed to use all materials from my stash -- even the stuffing, which is from an old pillow that I had thrown out literally the day before and then rescued from the bin! (and washed, of course!)

The first one was based on a couple of eBay vintage dolls, and used the rag doll pattern from Allcraftsblogs.com. I couldn't open the PDF file, so I just cut-and-pasted the pattern, and sized the body up to about 7 inches, and the arms and legs proportionately.  This one has the most shaping of the three, and with the limbs being separate was a bit more fiddly, as it turned out, but not at all difficult.

Her hair is fine black wool (from Super Yarn Mart, so that might tell you how long it has been in my stash!).  I wound a long length of the wool around a book, to what looked like "enough", then carefully spread the mass across a strip of fabric, then machine-sewed along the strip with black thread to make the "part", then hand-sewed the hair to the doll's head.  This took a bit of fiddling, and I had to trim the base strip and color it with black laundry marker to keep it from showing through, but it worked pretty well.  I trimmed the ends of the yarn after I did the two braids -- it seemed safer that way.

She has very shapely calves, and the feet are, for a rag doll, quite elegant I think.

I ended up making her bodice fully lined, because facings at this scale were far too fiddly.

Her face is drawn on with ballpoint pen, which has a faux-faded look already.  I am not very good drawing faces.

The second doll was based quite thoroughly on a vintage original, with the pattern half-improvised and half the Simple Doll Pattern from Doll Chamber.  I thought it was interesting how much size was "lost" with stuffing, even this one which I wanted to be much softer than the first one. 

I made the neck too long -- it flopped very disconcertingly -- and because I was lazy I didn't bother making a new body, but just tucked in the original one until it was as short as I could get it.  It's still floppy, but at least more of a "baby" floppy than otherwise.  These joints are simply machine-sewn across after stuffing.

The face and hair are embroidered with three strands of floss, based fairly closely on the original folk-art doll.  I couldn't decide from the seller's photographs if the original doll's hair was chain stitch or outline stitch, or maybe a combination of the two, so I just used chain stitch.  I used two slightly different shades of blond floss so that it would look "faded".  The eyelashes are blanket stitch, the pupils satin stitch and the rest outline stitch.  I was impressed by the artists' trick of the dab of pink in the corners of the eyes on the original doll!

The original doll has a safety pin at the back of its romper, too --

The third doll was an utter failure on three attempts, and ended up back in the rag bag (do not make the arms too narrow, trust me!), but the fourth one, from a pattern at Nadene's Practical Pages, went together quite easily.  I did modify the pattern by adding a quarter-inch seam allowance all around, and omitting the armature -- as a result, the body was much simpler, and finished in about an hour.

This one is also based fairly exactly on a vintage original, but didn't turn out quite as appealing as the original for some reason.  It went together relatively easily, though, as I sewed the pieces of the dress straight onto the body, first the bodice, then the skirt, then the waistband.

This is the back, although really you can only tell because of the seam in the waistband, since I left her face blank like the original doll's.  The dress is made from an old shirt of David's that was frayed at the hems and collar, but I liked the fabric so much that I saved it.  The skirt is one of the shirt sleeves, partly because it was already hemmed but mostly because the hem was already worn through in places.  Except for this hem, the dress is completely hand-sewn!  I made two basic T-shapes for the bodice and sleeves, and gathered it a little at the waist -- sewing it directly onto the doll -- then "pleated" the skirt and sewed it down, then folded a strip for the waistband and sewed that on top of the join between skirt and bodice.

So these are the dollies before "aging".  The girls kind of laughed when I said I wanted them to get the dolls dirty -- like "is she serious? get stuff dirty on purpose?" -- and I had to actually throw the baby doll on the ground as Laura and I were walking across the school field the other day, and tell her to kick it as we walked.  (I heard other kids saying to each other in disbelief, "She's kicking that doll!")  That didn't get it really dirty, to my surprise, so yesterday I filled a dishpan full of coffee and soaked the baby doll and the plaid-dress one, and the clothes of the pigtailed one in that for about half an hour.  (The pigtailed doll is stuffed fairly hard, and I was afraid she wouldn't dry fully before Tuesday.  Her hair wouldn't survive the washing-machine or dryer either, I suspect.)  I had also bleached the striped dress to fade it.

(I also, I confess, stomped heartlessly on the pigtailed doll after I threw her down onto the deck in the back yard.  That got it dirty.)

It was interesting how differently the fabrics were affected by the coffee.  The pigtailed doll's petticoat looks quite ancient now, but the plaid-dress doll -- who was bleached-white muslin to start -- is only a pale ecru.

It's a hard-knock life ....