And Now I Match my Chair, Part 2

Isn’t a good pattern worth its weight in gold? When I purchased this jacket pattern several years ago, I just liked it, no plans in place, and thought the day might come when I could use it. The more I studied it with my Pendleton blanket in mind, the more I thought it was perfect for my project. First task, of course, was to make a muslin toile and check the fit and size.

*View B is the version I intended to use.*

By now, November and early December had passed with my life taken over by bathroom renovations and holidays looming on the horizon. We headed back to Wyoming for Christmas, and then the new year of 2026 dawned, with all its promise and things unknown. January was the perfect time to get back to my project. The jacket as designed was to be fully lined, either with fleece, contrasting fabric, or self-lined. I determined I would need to line the sleeves, while the rest of the jacket should remain unlined. However, I needed a facing for the shawl collar and front edges. Because there was a pattern piece for interfacing the collar and front edges, I thought I could use that for my facing. My toile confirmed that for me.

*I used the interfacing (minus the hood extension) in the lower right corner of the diagram for my coat facing.*

The coat muslin seemed very large overall on me, requiring a lot of alteration. It can be tricky with coats, as enough ease must be allowed for wearing a heavier sweater or layers underneath. Also, the thickness and relative non-fluidity of the blanket dictated a looser fit. I spent a few days perfecting my toile. Then the real test was upon me.

I took my muslin apart, producing pattern pieces to fit onto my fabric/blanket. Was making this jacket out of what I had left of the blanket even going to be possible? If so, how would the placement of the pattern pieces on the very graphic and large design work out?

I got to work with everything spread out on my dining room table, starting with two main objectives: 1) The large “dragonfly” motif on the blanket would be centered on the back of the jacket, and 2) I wanted the “portrait” or neckline area of the shawl collar to feature the dominant color of red.

I had to use the entire width of the blanket, without an inch to spare in the final layout, for the pieces of the main body of the coat. This layout gave me the the red collar I wanted and the center motif of the blanket centered on the coat back. Visible on the lower part of the picture is the where the upholsterer had cut the fabric.

*This is the opposite end of the blanket, where I needed to position the sleeves and, potentially, patch pockets*. *This is where it got a little tricky. That black “sawtooth” panel, a dominate woven feature, was going to make or break the fluidity of the overall look of the coat.*

From there the fabric told me what I could do and what I could not do, and the best way to explain my decisions is to show you the finished coat.

*1) I determined the dominate black stripe across the sleeves (see below) absolutely* had to be centered on the black stripe across the front of the coat (and consequently centered on the main motif on the back.) However, the width of the two stripes were not the same. 2) The only way I could center them was to wiggle around the placement of the sleeves on the fabric. *I had not originally intended to put black “cuffs” on the sleeves, but that turned out to be the only way I could center the black stripes on each other*, *by moving the sleeves off the edge of the fabric*, *and adding “cuffs*” *to get the sleeve length I needed.*

First, I cut out the main pieces of the coat. (I had Plan B in place already, knowing by now I would have to piece the lower edges/cuff on the sleeves.) That gave me more flexibility on determining exactly how those two black design features would lineup to best effect.

*I was sweating bullets, even with Plan B, when I realized how much I had to wiggle the sleeves down off the edge of the fabric* to get those black design features centered on each other. In this photo you can see the scraps of black fabric (reversible to red) I intended to use for the “cuffs.” Fortunately I found that I could successfully remove the binding on the blanket, gaining me another 3/4 inch in length – which meant the piecing I needed to do on the cuffs would be a pleasing width.

*Here is the back of the jacket. I was very pleased with how well the sleeves lined up with it.*

I thought it would be “easy” after getting to this point. Easy is not a word I should ever use while sewing. I should know that by now. Every seam had to pressed with loads of steam, followed by a clapper to help set it, usually more than once. Every exposed seam edge needed to be encased with rayon tape. I split the two vertical darts and needed to hand-stitch the raw edges to prevent fraying. Every seam needed to be basted together before machine sewing in order to keep the horizontal lines in the design matched.

*Here and below are looks at the interior seam binding I did on all the exposed edges – and the fabulous labels which I took from the blanket and attached on the coat front facing*.

*Here is the back interior of the jacket, showing the sleeve linings (I used lightweight cotton batiste that had a slight sheen) and how I finished the raw edges of the center back neckline.*

I had found a set of taupe-colored vintage buttons in my collection which, at first glance, did not look like they would work. But after auditioning black buttons and red buttons, I was convinced those taupe ones would be perfect. However, I had no idea how I was going to do buttonholes in that thick fabric. I fiddled around with fabric scraps to make practice bound buttonholes, using a lightweight fabric for the “lips.” They looked awful. I thought of using large snaps and just securing the buttons on the coat front for effect. That did not appeal to me at all. So I went to my two failsafe sewing maxims: 1) I’ll figure it out later, and 2) Plan B – it BETTER work.

The jacket was practically finished before I found a method to make those buttonholes. Because the fabric was so thick, I could successfully only do a machine buttonhole on one layer of it. I experimented around and discovered if I made the buttonhole on the front of the coat, I could then line up the facing and use a straight machine stitch through both layers around the buttonhole. I used very small stitches to make it secure. Then I sliced them open. It worked!

I had to remove the facing to make the machine buttonholes and then stitch it back on before continuing. I could not have seen that coming since I really did not know early on how in the world I was going to make these buttonholes!

*This* picture shows the buttonholes all finished and completely functional! Also, this is an interesting view of the front of the coat. I was kind of wringing my hands over the center front of the coat. I did not have enough fabric to balance the design across the center front. And then I realized, even if I had had enough fabric to do that, it would not have worked. The reason? I would not have been able to balance those small dragonfly motifs on either side – or – they would have been pushed too much to either side to make sense for the design. To my eye, that balance was the more important one. One more thing… I did not have enough fabric to make patch pockets for the coat. I considered making inseam pockets out of the black batiste, but I was concerned they may cause distortion of the side seams due to the heavy nature of the fabric. I finally decided to forego pockets altogether. After wearing the coat next winter, I can always come back to the pocket conundrum if I decide pockets are a must. Right now in my mind, they are not.

Are you still reading at this point? Or did I lose you back at the dining room table?

Almost finished! The final touches on the coat involved under stitching the collar to hold the turn in place, and securing the sleeve lining to the underside of the black “cuffs.”

What do you think of the black cuffs? I had no choice but to do them this way; hopefully they look intentional rather than contrived.

*Hand stitching holding the sleeve linings in place.*

I have to say I was pretty thrilled with how my jacket turned out, considering the parameters facing me.

Now I do indeed match my chair! More importantly, however, I have a very classic, one-of-a-kind, Pendleton wool, western-style jacket which is going to be fun – and warm – to wear.

And Now I Match My Chair, Part 1

It all started with a chair. Well, maybe not. My yearning for a coat made from a western-style blanket actually started inside the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. For those of you unfamiliar with Pendleton Woolen Mills, here’s the (abbreviated) scoop on this great American company.

An English weaver by the name of Thomas Kay made his way to Oregon in 1863. (Think about that for a minute!) His descendants, the Bishop family, built upon the weaving foundation Kay established and started Pendleton Woolen Mills in Pendleton, Oregon in 1909. In its first decade, the company produced colorfully patterned blankets and robes for local Native American tribes, thereby setting a brand distinction for the company. In 1916, Pendleton introduced the Glacier National Park blanket, the start of a wide-ranging series of National Park products. (New blankets and designs are still being added to this line today.) In 1924 the company introduced its first line of apparel – men’s woolen shirts – followed over the coming decades by women’s apparel and expanded offerings in apparel, home furnishings and of course, blankets. At the heart of the product lines is a commitment to American craftsmanship, the embrace of Native American design, and pride in its family ownership over six generations. Their products are available in their retail stores, on the web, and by printed catalog.

Back to the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. Their women’s offerings always showcase several coats, jackets, and ponchos made from Native American inspired blankets (and made in the USA, for extra good measure). They are gorgeous and distinctive and classic. So much so, that a few years ago my daughter purchased one (with a little $ help from Mom.)

*This is the Pendleton coat my daughter purchased; photo is from the web.*

She already had a stunning Pendleton wool poncho, a gift from her husband. As we all know, one can never have too much outerwear, right? Well, all this American craftsmanship and design and head-turning apparel of course started me looking at Pendleton blankets-turned-coats from the viewpoint of one who sews – and one who thinks “I could make one of those!”

The seed was planted, waiting for germination.

With my existing sewing queue already groaning under its own weight, I deferred action on this idea indefinitely. And then, in late August of 2025, I found an Old Hickory small hoop chair (another great American company known for its craftsmanship) in a consignment store.

*This is the Old Hickory chair I purchased from HOME AGAIN, a consignment store in Jackson, Wyoming. I was not a fan of the “bucking bronco” motif on the seat back.*

I purchased the chair with the knowledge I would need to change the upholstery on the seat back. (The seat is covered in leather, which is perfect for our household which includes two cats prone to some scratching.)

I was already familiar with examples of Old Hickory hoop chairs upholstered in Pendleton blanket wools, as shown here:

Of course, the wheels started turning in my head, and I made a stop at the Pendleton store to look at blankets. One jumped out at me for its colors and design.

*This is an image from the Pendleton website.*

Could I possibly get two projects out of one twin sized blanket (the only size produced in this design)? The chair seat back AND a jacket? I thought so but it would be tight – and a gamble at the price point. Not one to shy away from a sewing challenge, I purchased the blanket. This was either going to be a very expensive upholstered seat back OR a “twofer” bargain which would give me both a new look for my chair and a one-of-a-kind jacket. I figured I would know my fate sometime over the course of the next several months.

The first step was to get the chair and the blanket to an upholsterer, which I did. Relinquishing the blanket to him, I explained my intention of making a jacket out of the leftover wool. He looked at me dubiously.

“I sew a lot,” I explained.

He still looked at me dubiously. I talked with him about the layout for the seat back. I hoped, I said to hm, that he could just take from one end of the blanket, leaving about two thirds of it intact? He nodded in understanding. He said he would do what he could. I’m sure he thought I was crazy.

The upholsterer is a busy guy, so it took several weeks before the chair was ready. But when he returned it to me, not only did it look terrific, but the remainder of the blanket was about the length I thought it would be. I was hopeful.

By now it was October, very close to the time when we depart our summer home in Wyoming and head back to Pennsylvania, a time when all sewing comes to a screeching halt as I pack and organize and clean. The timing turned out to be perfect, however, as most of my vintage patterns were in Pennsylvania – and I needed to look for a jacket pattern for my project.

I knew any pattern I selected had to be one with fairly simple lines and adaptable to being unlined. Pendleton blankets are beautifully heavy and warm, perfect for cozy sleeping. Made into coats and jackets they are also heavy and warm, but better suited to styles with few darts, notches and complex seaming. Luckily I had a pattern in my collection, dated 1959, which appeared to be perfect – with a shaw collar, raglan sleeves, and 2 long darts descending from the shoulder to the bust.

*From the pattern instruction sheet*: *minimal pattern pieces were perfect for this project. Of course, I cut off the “hood” for my jacket, and as it turned out, I did not add patch pockets. More about that in Part 2*.

I was on my way to my very own Pendleton jacket. At least that was what I hoped!

To be continued…

A Lovely Solution

What do you do with all those scraps of fabric which are often left over from a sewing project? Sometimes I just throw them out, feeling guilty while I do so. Sometimes I fold them up neatly and put them away in a very big box I have reserved for such things (to “think about another day.”) And sometimes, if there is a sizable amount remaining, I’ll put my leftovers in a “giveaway” box, to be recycled in some charitable fashion. But recently I have come up with another solution. I have started making padded hangers with my fabric leftovers.

Remember that small amount of fabric remaining from my recent pink striped dress? I could have easily pitched that scrap (and not even felt particularly guilty about it), but I knew I had just enough fabric left to make a matching padded hanger for my dress.

I had already made a few of these hangers in various scraps, using a You-Tube video for the basics, with several trial-and-error sessions to tweak the method and pattern to my satisfaction. Feeling confident with my new-found “expertise,” I plowed ahead and squeezed out just enough for a hanger to match my dress.

*The ribbon bow serves two purposes: to cover up the seam where the two sides of the fabric sheaths meet in the middle, and to make your hanger more beautiful!*

Now, I should add here that I have been a fan of padded hangers for a long time, purchasing quite a few from a couple of Etsy shops in recent years. However, I have always thought it would be lovely to make matching hangers for some of my creations – or – just pretty hangers to mix and match.

Here are three I have recently made.

Two of them are made from Liberty fabrics, and the dark blue one is made from fabric left over from a skirt I made at least 25-30 years ago. There is something particularly rewarding about using Liberty scraps, as the fabric is expensive and its tight weave lends itself beautifully to being stretched over the padded wooden hanger forms.

Speaking of the hanger forms – I have yet to find a source for these raw wood hangers. To get what I need, I have purchased cheap, polyester satin covered hangers in bulk and taken off the fabric and yucky foam padding to reveal the raw wood hanger form inside it all. This works, but I would really love to find a source for basic, uniform, raw-wood hangers with the swivel, silver-toned hardware that I prefer for these small projects.

Here are a few pictures of my process, not intended to be a tutorial.

*Here are the basic ingredients for making padded hangers: a wooden form*, *quilt batting used for the padding, and the cut-out fabric pieces to sew and cover each side of the wooden form.*
Shown here are two varying wooden forms I happened to have on hand. The unfinished – or raw – wood one is specifically intended for being covered. The other one is a “finished” wood hanger which I turned into a padded hanger.

*The quilt batting cut and ready to apply to the wooden form.*

*The batting pinned in place, ready to sew by hand.*

*The padded raw hanger ready for the sewn fabric “sheaths” to be slipped over each end of the hanger.*

Let me tell you why there is something very rewarding about making these hangers.

First of all, they really don’t take much time, perhaps 35-40 minutes per hanger.
Second, it is the perfect combination of hand and machine sewing.
Third, as stated, it is a wonderful way to use up scraps.
Fourth, I can use the fabric that is best suited for these closet accessories – tightly woven cottons, light-weight linens or damasks, and never anything slippery, such as satin, which causes your garment to slide off one side. I am particularly looking forward to making hangers with some of my scraps of vintage cottons and linens, a unique way to preserve samples of these special fabrics.
Fifth, handmade padded hangers make very sweet small gifts for friends and family.
And finally, making my own hangers allows me to use coordinating color ribbon. White is always nice, but using coordinating colored ribbon makes your hangers just that much more personal.

Often, between sewing projects, especially if they are major projects, I like to make something quick and easy and fun to “decompress” and get ready for the next big undertaking. Making a padded hanger is the perfect solution.

Pink Stripes

“You can never go wrong with a little pink… a lot works for me.” Dana Dalgetty

It is extremely difficult for me to resist a bubblegum pink fabric. And if it is a stripe, too, the odds are very good that fabric will end up in my sewing room. So it was with this silk and cotton blend found on the website of Mendel Goldberg Fabrics.

I purchased it last summer during a 20% off sale, and when it arrived, I knew I had made the right decision – although the stripes were a bit bolder in person than I anticipated. As usual, I wasn’t sure what I was going to make – a coat? a dress? a skirt? I needed more thinking time so I tucked it away until this Spring. In the meantime, I purchased this vintage Vogue pattern which I saw as a good basic design which could be easily changed, adapted and altered.

*Take note of those curved darts on the bodice, as I will mention them again.*

I like dress designs which have some “back“ interest, here the buttoned half belt. Although I loved the sleeveless view, I have become less comfortable wearing sleeveless dresses as I have gotten older. Thus, I was drawn to the short-sleeved view (C), knowing I could easily lengthen the sleeves to reach almost to the elbow, if that seemed the way to go. Thus, it was a logical progression to imagine the pink striped fabric made up in this design, despite the note on the pattern “Not suitable for striped fabrics.”

I wasn’t quite ready to forge ahead, however. My fabric was such a bold stripe, I feared a horizontal orientation of the fabric would be too much, but a vertical orientation was equally problematic. I went to my Pinterest feed to get some inspiration and in no time at all, the lightbulb went off in my head. The dress needed a combination horizontal and vertical orientation. I made this quick sketch, and I knew I had the solution I needed.

*I took these quick photos after I had worn the dress to a party, wrinkles and all. My apologies for the unkempt appearance of the dress!*

I set about making a muslin/toile for fitting, and then I hit a brick wall. Those curved darts you see on the pattern bodice just were not flattering to me, despite my working and reworking them multiple times. I finally gave up. I would need to find a substitute pattern for the bodice front and make it work with the bodice back toile which I had fitted successfully. This was all terribly time-consuming, as you can imagine, but I finally was able to find an existing bodice front in my stash of patterns/toiles which, fingers crossed, would work. I didn’t know how well it would work until I had the happy surprise of seeing the darts feed into the bold stripes successfully.

Darts, of course, distort side seams, but this distortion somehow adds to the appearance of the front bodice. I suspect the “unsuitability” of striped fabrics was because of that curved dart, which I unknowingly eliminated when I changed the bodice front.

What was not as successful was the proper alignment of the buttons on the back belt to the center of the dress. That is one of the many downsides of fitting oneself – I could not see what I was doing, and although I measured and fiddled, I was still off by a couple of inches.

*I did a hand-picked lapped zipper and the buttons are vintage mother of pearl from my collection.*

While we are talking details, here is the top of the sleeve. I used a top dart to take in the necessary fullness when setting in the sleeve. This is an alteration I make frequently to accommodate my prominent shoulders.

I lined the entire dress with a soft cotton batiste which complimented the softness of my fabric, adding a little more opaqueness to the finished dress. I did not use an underlining, reasoning that more structure would not be conducive to the soft flow I wanted in this garment.

A word here about the panel for the hem. Wow, was I tight on fabric! I thought the panel should feature one bold pink stripe, bordered by “half” white stripes. I barely had enough fabric to make this happen, and because the width of the skirt was just a bit bigger than the width of the fabric, I had to piece that panel. Whew, I just made it. Here is all the fabric I had left over:

*The seaming of the two panel pieces close to the center back is barely visible! Can you see it?*

I was able to wear this dress for two events in May, feeling perfectly dressed for both of them.

And that little bit of left-over fabric? I had plans for that, too, which I will share in a future post.

Thinking in Color

It is always in the early days of December when I start to speculate on what the Pantone Color of the Year will be for the year to come. I’m not sure why I am so intrigued with this annual selection, but obviously it must have something to do with sewing and fabric and day-dreaming. This year, on the 2^nd of December, Pantone gave those of us, who have this particular obsession with color, the chance to vote for the family of color from which we thought 2025’s selection would come.

Well, I was WAY off! I voted for the Red Family, described by Pantone as “empowering and exciting.” This was the way I happened to be feeling on that particular day in early December. The other color families from which to choose were: Orange (radiant and hot), Yellow (energy and life), Green (deep forests and wide meadows), Blue (constancy and truth), Pink (soft and innocent), Purple (mystical and magical), Brown (rooted and earthy), Black (sleek and sophisticated), and White (pristine and peaceful).

The Color Family most people taking the poll chose was Green. Those of you who care about such things now know the Pantone Color of the Year is Mocha Mousse, “a warming, brown hue imbued with richness.” (All quoted statements are directly from the Pantone website.)

I certainly did not see that coming. Which made me really curious about this selection by people obviously much more in tune with the “global zeitgeist” than I! The more I read about the decision, the more I understood it – and, although it is not exciting as a red family hue would be, I do find it to be empowering in its own subtle way, “capturing a global mood of connection, comfort, and harmony.”

Pantone wisely suggests a “Color Palette” for their Color of the Year, a selection of hues to coordinate with the chosen color. For Mocha Mousse, the color palette is charmingly called “Floral Pathways.” Seven colors to lead us down a “cobblestone path:” a green called tendril, cornflower blue, a gentle lavender called viola, rose tan, a soft gray called cobblestone, another green called willow, and a soft white called gardenia. These are all lovely coordinates, which make me appreciate Mocha Mousse more.

Although I will not necessarily be purchasing fabric or planning sewing projects around Mocha Mousse this year, I will be thinking about it and focusing on the warm comfort and harmony it suggests.

However, what really makes me not only think in color, but also dream in color, is a piece of Thai silk just given to me from a sweet and thoughtful friend. She told me it had been given it to her over forty years ago by a friend of hers, purchased while in that part of the world. My friend had finally decided she needed to part with it as she was certainly never going to use it. Lucky me! With over four yards and over 50” wide, I have plenty to work with. What should I make?

*This a light weight silk with a crisp hand to it.*

About my long absence from this blog… I did not expect to be away for 6 months. Thank you to those of you who did not abandon me over that time. A confluence of circumstances thwarted my sewing production – and motivation – during the summer months. Perhaps on that early December day when I instinctively voted for the Red Family in the Pantone quiz, I was feeling some small spark of vitality returning to my bones. Perhaps…

Certainly, I cannot close this short post without acknowledging the joy in this season of holidays and Christmas and extending best wishes far and wide to each of you. Merry Christmas!