I try to fool myself by keeping a running mantra in my head..."gotta have something to wear/carry/show on the road/in the air/at the hotel that is a good example of what I can create, just in case anyone wants to order one while they are crushing me into a small, inconvenient package in the middle seat..."
I've heard legends whispered of sewers who carry their own bags, wear their own art jackets, or other to-die-for sewn goods, who are stalked by sudden, demanding fans requesting to purchase said item off their shoulders. Which, of course, the sewers do - after weak protests of "I wasn't planning on selling this one; I would really rather not have to carry my goods in a plastic trash bag all through the trip." Not a single one of those stalkers/customer wanna-be's have ever followed me anywhere. But I can still dream, can't I? So I sew something for myself once in awhile, usually something eminently practical and useful. Still haven't gotten brave enough to make art-to-wear (those pitiful throngs of people who will someday surround me in an airport will just have to wait), but I have secret plans. In the meantime, after I've waxed eloquently about how my old, faithful tote bag is on the verge of falling completely apart (probably in said airport, and then those throngs of people will be pointing and laughing - not the effect I'm going for, you understand), I hurriedly throw whatever is in my stash together to make a bag for the trip.
Thankfully, my stash IS legend.
There is a home dec type store several blocks from my house that sells end cuts and remnants at redonkulous prices, and often gives customers smaller cuts for free. I will not divulge how many times I've been in this store, but it boggles the mind. I've swung a lot of clients their way. They have worked with me many times on supplying fabric for projects for the high school band, and have given me very decent pricing on those huge swaths of fabric, so I like to try to return the favor whenever possible. My poor husband has been tasked with building shelving in the garage now to house all of the umpty-something plastic crates of upholstery and home dec fabric I now own, most of it earmarked for various projects, not all of them what you'd expect.
But, hey - what's a good seamstress without a huge stash? Because you just never know when that one client is going to ask for something you just happen to have...and if you have it in stock, you won't have to drive - again - to the fabric store. (Yeah, right.)
So, this is what happened the last time I traveled. I was truly annoyed at the mismatched, stained, laundry-shrunken tote bag that I own, having used it since the boys were really little (they are 20 and 24 now). It could be stuffed with toys, plush animals, books, games, snacks, drinks, and occasionally even a magazine for mom that somehow made it back home completely unread. You know, THAT tote bag. We all have one. The one you have to duck awkwardly down to be able to reach, shoved all the way under that seat in front of you, because your kid suddenly remembers he HAS to have that book/toy/plush animal RIGHT NOW, and then the person who is IN that seat in front of you simultaneously decides it's the perfect time to recline their seat. And there you are, so graciously providing that passenger with plenty of extra rear seat support. The people across the aisle are wondering why on earth you're madly waving your arms around while jackknifed under the tray, which has dropped down to bang into your upper shoulders, but they're another story.
I digress. Like I said, the boys are older now and can carry their own stupid stuff their own carry-on items, so I decided to make myself a new tote that had plenty of pockets for every possible contingency, one that actually MATCHED my rolling suitcase (what a concept!), and had one thing that none of my tote bags have ever had - a strap or other means to attach it to the rolling suitcase I can't live without. Ever been running through the airport, desperately playing "Which Gate Are We Leaving From NOW?", only to have one or two of your wheels suddenly decide it was that gate you passed, two aisles back? Even carefully and lovingly stacked on top of your suddenly swerving suitcase, with the handles wrapped painfully around your knuckles, that darn tote manages to dutifully swing itself overboard, emptying half its contents in the process. We won't even talk about the physical therapy for the shoulder that ensues.
Enter Butterick B5866. I picked this up at Joanns one day during one of their Butterick pattern sales, and promptly filed it away for future use. Which I'm glad I did, as it is currently out of print. But I loved the idea of using several coordinating fabrics for a fun look. So I dove into my stash, and came up with about three that I thought would go with my beloved burgundy colored suitcase, and might actually impress someone in the airport. The pattern was pretty straightforward, though I might change up the strapping the next time - it was awkward to carry over the shoulder (not enough room through that strap opening), and I'm so short that any straps for hand carry usually mean I'm dragging the thing across the floor like a Neanderthal. Or hoisting it up higher, which means a sore back and shoulder (are we seeing a pattern here?), and a very crabby trip. I remembered something about a pocket that changed into a handle flap that Nancy Zieman had blogged about years ago, and decided that would be the perfect thing to put into this bag.
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| The Travel Bag (and suitcase) |
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| Three different home dec fabrics. One security strap to make sure the stuff inside doesn't go flying unexpectedly outside. Two exterior pockets, easily accessible for TSA, my I.D., and my tickets/itinerary. Two interior pockets (see below). |
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| And two different color zippers. Because it was probably 10 PM the night before, I wasn't about to try and find a fabric store open to find another matching zipper, because then I wouldn't get the darn thing finished in time, and it's called "raiding your stash," thank you very much. But it's also probably why I wasn't mobbed by stalkers demanding to order one in the Houston airport during an 8 hour flight delay. Either that, or it was the frightening hurricane pounding the tarmac outside. Just sayin'. |
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| Inner calm. I mean, Inner Zippered pocket, and Inner Slip Pocket. |
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| (Insert whatever ta-Dah! type music you usually play in your head, here. Go ahead, I'll wait.) Here it is: the Nancy Zieman handle flap. I chose not to put a zipper into the bottom of the flap to make it into a usable pocket, because - ahem - I was already rather zipper challenged enough as it was. And I couldn't for the life of me figure out why on earth I'd want a pocket that converted into a flap. I mean, if it's a POCKET, I want to use it as a POCKET. I'm all about POCKETS. And stuffing things into them. And not having to find another place to move those stuffed things into when I suddenly decide to convert the POCKET into a HANDLE FLAP. So it's open - bare ankles all the way, all the time. And boy, did it come in handy while running through the partially demolished hallways, especially when tripping over the partially demolished flooring strips. That bag stayed right where it was supposed to, on top of that suitcase, attached to the handle. All the way down to the floor, which is where we had an impromptu little meeting. And the throngs of people were indeed, pointing and laughing. But the tote bag stayed put. Coming up: Another Travel Bag, Part 2 |
