Why do I do this to myself? It is a strange form of masochism clearly. Tonight, I started another Roman shade. Why?? This has never, traditionally, been a terribly successful project for me. But somehow, I'm determined to slay that dragon yet. If you are hoping for masterful sewing and a tutorial from someone who really knows what she's doing, don't waste your time with the rest of this post.
You see, Elio, my wee Elio, has graduated to a big boy bed. Bittersweet. Gone is the lovely green and yellow decor and the ADORABLE Dick and Jane quilt made by his nonna for the crib. In comes the plaid (matches his brother's bedding should we ever go the bunk bed route), and the new blue wall colour:
This also called for new artwork. I'm very happy with these- the photos don't do them justice. All this is, is scrap booking paper and cheap Ikea picture frames. Add some Elmer's school glue stick, and bada bing:
This change also required new curtains. I love Roman blinds. Yes I do. They are clean, and functional and not prissy in the least. I first attempted these in our old townhouse (you get dumb ideas when you're pregnant). I wanted to pretty things up for our first baby. Being a townhouse, we had to leave up the blinds that were there, but I still thought we could do something that looked nice on the inside. The windows were gorgeous, but a big pain. They were super big, and triangular. I thought and planned, and the end result was fairly successful and pleasing.
Not bad for a first effort. But there were problems. First of all, I chose adorable quilting cotton as both fabric and lining. This was like any girl's favourite shoes- cute, but completely void of functionality. There was no room darkening quality at all here. And because there was a full set of blinds behind it, that didn't matter. Fast forward to Elio's room. New house, smaller window. Easier right? Ha. This time round I chose a white denim, lined with blackout fabric. These heavy weight fabrics, are not the easiest to sew without shifting in such large pieces. The truth of the matter is, Elio's Romans were completely disastrous. Amelia Bedelia makes a window treatment. Absolutely everything that could go wrong did. It is such a long story, a post unto itself really, that I will quit now. Suffice it to say, I narrowly escaped being admitted for psychiatric evaluation. My poor husband. It was ugly. Here's what they look like:
They are done in such a way, that they can be buttoned down to the wall (so as to discourage my gopher of a son popping his head out to enjoy the view when he should be napping- geez, it's like playing whack-a-mole). They are nothing spectacular by any means. That being said, the simple line and the flat, economical (not full I mean) appearance, does wonders to make the teeny room look bigger and taller. At any rate, I did swear that I'd NEVER do another Roman blind as long as I live.
Ha. So the other day, I was attempting to change Matteo's sheets, and I was wedged between his dresser and the bed, wrestling with the fitted sheet whilst swearing under my breath, when the absolute stupidity of the room set up really hit home. I quickly saw the solution, a far more attractive and functional order for the furniture. Naturally, when I thought about moving the furniture, I began looking at the walls. Naturally, I discovered the walls could use a lick of paint. Naturally, I decided that this room too would benefit from Roman blinds. Please- someone put an end to the ludicrousness of my logic (or lack there of). Ding round two. But here we are. I write this after my first evening of sewing. So far, nowhere near the cuss count of round one. So far smooth sailing. But I'm a slow learner. I still, despite having done this before, haven't figured out best way to ensure no puckers and lumps. At any rate, here is the complete idiot's guide to making Roman blinds (and by that I mean it was written by a complete idiot, not intended to be read by one):
Step 1: Buy lovely fabric and preshrink the stuff. I chose a cute diamond patterned cotton (quite heavy) for the blind itself, white poplin for the casings, a blue and white cotton stripe for the valance and 100% room darkening blackout fabric for the lining. I'm also garnishing (huh. perhaps wrong choice of word. It's late. Embellishing, that was what I was aiming for) this with red piping on either side and some lovely red and blue buttons. You also need velcro (prickly side sticky, soft side sew on). I'm also going to try use washers as weights to hopefully keep it hanging nice and flat, but so far I'm not convinced it is working. Also, the Roman shade from hell experience taught me that red piping, IS NOT COLOUR FAST. So for the love of the land, prewash that with some vinegar to bleed out the excess dye.
Step 2: Cut out your blind. Measure 9 million times to make sure it is the right size. I make mine about 3 inches wider on each side than the window opening, and 6 inches longer. The numbers are arbitrarily picked, but they seemed generous enough to ensure full coverage. Pin in piping on the sides and sew up, leaving an opening at the top so you can turn the thing:
Step 3: Turn the blind right side out. I like to top stitch mine. Don't forget to insert the weights (washers) if you are using them, before you close and top stick your opening. Ahem. Seriously, don't forget to do that or else you will have to stitch rip a hole and put the washers in that way. Exhibit A:
Step 4: Sew on the soft side of the fabric to the top edge. Maybe pin it in place or it will look like you sewed this after drinking one too many margaritas, and you will have to stitch rip it and redo the thing. Ay.
Step 5: Know when to quit and save the stitch ripping for tomorrow.
Ok. Not masterful. But A for effort right? Stay tuned... there will be more to come no doubt.
Happy trails!
No comments:
Post a Comment