Getting fabric Straight: The wonders of starch

One of the constants of quilting is that the methods of fabric care we enjoy now don’t always work for quilting fabric. Why? Quilts are mostly cotton. Cotton is not perma-press. It can be made so, but it’s hardly cotton after that. It dries at a different temperature, it shrinks, it is more vulnerable to mildew. It does not act like a polyester fabric. And it never will. It’s cotton. It’s a natural fiber that does not ever act like a test tube baby. And it rumples. There are no wrinkles like cotton wrinkles.

So, many of the tools our grandmother’s used to work with cotton still work best. I have a wringer washer and mangle for dyeing fabric. They both are made pretty specifically for cotton and still do the job they were made for.

We talked several weeks ago about cotton and irons. Cotton takes real heat. The old fashioned irons do that.

Here’s the other unspoken bit about cotton. It’s made of fibers that move, shift and don’t stay steady. You can tear fabric straight on the edge and have it still not lie square. There is, however, a secret weapon. Starch.

You know that wonderful crisp feeling that your cotton has off the bolt, when it feels like a thin piece of paper, only fluid. That’s created by starch. Starch is one of several chemicals they use to finish fabric. So is formaldehyde. If you’ve ever walked into a fabric store and smelled a strong chemical smell, that’s probably it. A good prewash removes much of that smell. But it also removes the starch.

We joke about starch in someone’s underwear and complain of too much starch in new clothes, but for quilting, it really helps us out. It means things are more stable and don’t move around. Those moving, shifting, shifty fabrics stay flat and stay straight, making it easier to piece straight seams. I’m told it’s excellent for hand piecing. It keeps the fabric smooth and steady underneath the needle.

I became aware of the starch factor when I began to dye all my fabric. It just didn’t have the same body as unwashed fabric. I experimented with spray starch and found it expensive but helpful. It was also very hard to control how much starch you got. And you often got spots.

Then I found liquid starch. Stay Flo has turned out to be the best I’ve used. It comes in a jug and you mix it to the level you want. I usually use 1/3 cup of Stay Flow to 2/3 cup of water. Roughly. I mix that in a cheap spray bottle.

But here’s the secret weapon. On my last wash out, I put in a cupful of starch in the softener cup of my washer. I also put in a capful of a professional softer called ProSoft or Milsoft. On it’s final rinse, it starches all my fabric evenly. Then I let it hang dry and iron it while damp. Perfection.

Here’s an interesting article from The Spruce with more technical information about sizing and starches.

Starched fabric is so much easier to piece because it doesn’t shift as much.

I’ve been piecing another landscape gradation, and I gave it a final starch before pressing it. It changes how your fabric lies, how it irons, and how it handles under the needle. And you don’t need to stop and smell the formaldehyde. How good is that?

Over and under: three dimensional leaves

The leaf is all one piece of fabric. The threadwork defines the fold.

If you’re making nature quilts, you’re likely to need to answer the leaf question. Leaves ripple and rumple and almost never lie flat. And they fold. How do we make that happen on the quilt surface?

Here some approaches.

defined by stitch

I tend to use a free motion zigzag stitch mostly to apply leaves. It’s fluid. It follows curves. And I can change color at will. I also tend to use a polyester Neon embroidery thread by Madeira. It’s strong, bright as a button and light enough to stitch over several times until I get what I want.

Dividing a leaf in half and coloring it with one side dark and the other light creates an immediate sense of dimension for this quilt. It’s the same fabric, but the coloration changes with the thread choices.

defined by applique method

Direct applique is applied right to the top of the piece with glue. I use Steam-A-Seam 2 by preference because it allows me to move the piece around before I iron it into a permanent place.

This makes simple shapes easily. But it doesn’t allow for wild curves and vines

The leaves are drawn on a separate fabric and stitched to the top. Then the access is all trimmed away.

cutaway leaves

Cut-away applique is done with a cloth laid over the top and stitched in the shape you want. Then the leaves, vines and trees can be cut away along the stitch line, leaving more fluid shapes.

Leaves formed by cut-away applique continue the background shading through peek-a-boo holes.

Cheesecloth leaves

The sheer qualities of cheesecloth and the texture mimics the cell structure of the leaves and lets bits of the background through. Cheesecloth makes fabulous leaves and can be dyed any color with Procion dyes. The wild stitching with lime and orange makes them look crinkled.

Making the leaf fold

This cheesecloth leaf folds along the darker blue line of thread. The threadwork itself defines the fold. The purple line on these leaves folds the center and the two slightly different thread colors top and bottom help confirm that.

Mostly leaves are defined by threadwork. These are some ways to make leaves look like they popped out of the background. And that’s pretty much what you want.

Lighting the Spark: creating thread images with contrast

Threadwork is delicate. Just because threads are tiny thin things. Just by their nature.

We can layer threads infinitely. But singularly they don’t have a lot of effect. So how do we keep threadwork from mushing into a soft blend? We need a spark. If we take just light and dark shades of a color, that’s a good start. But it’s bland.

What makes a spark? Contrast. Either in color, in shine or in temperature. High contrast keeps it from being dull. And since thread is such a little thing, it we can use intense contrast without overwhelming the piece.

sheen

The first thing we see with thread is it’s sheen. How shiny is it? Threads come from dull cottons, to smooth rayons and polys to sparkly metallics. The eye sees the sparkle first.

So if we want something to stand out, something really shiny will make the spark. Which is why I use Sliver, and a number of other flat shiny threads.

If you’re doing animals, you want their eyes to be the thing you see first. Sliver does that. You make an iris of any color, a black pupil, and a small iridescent spark inside the eye. It’s a spark inside a spark. And it brings an eye to life.

Or I can make my background shimmer by stippling sliver in gradated colors across the piece. Sliver is a delicate thread. It works best in a regular bobbin case. I use a matching polyester thread on top. If I stipple pretty much last, all the other stitching tells me where the stippling should be.

color

Color contrast always startles the eye. The highest contrast in color is always going to be the complement. Complements are powerful. The blue and peach make a spark between them to shade this bird.

The pinks are sparked by the yellow green overstitching that makes the feathers an flowers.

temperature

The hot gold details stand out against the smooth greens and blues and lights up the feathers.

black and white: Contrast in Value

Both black and white are extreme contrast. For threadwork, I’m careful of both of them. But they give us an edge. I almost always outline in solid black or black metallic. But on the raven’s wings, I overstitched the feathers with black to make them pop.

Contrast is always what makes our heads turn, our eyes turn, our hearts beat. And that’s the point to art, isn’t it?

Splitting the sky: The Advantage of Split Light Sources

I don’t piece well. It’s not my skill. Anything that takes accuracy and careful cutting really isn’t my skill. The new 770 Bernina came with a foot that does make it better, but I don’t normally do large pieced tops. I know better. It’s not pretty when I do.

But there are rare occasions when I piece a split light source top.

Why? Why walk into accuracy land and piecing?

A light source brings you fabric with direction, and a built-in world. That world can be integral by itself. But if you want to filter the light as if it were through haze, woods, or shadow, you can piece two light source fabrics to create that shaded look. There are several approaches, with different effects.

Vertical Piecing

Where the Heart is

Where the Heart Is was pieced from two separate yards of the same blue/orange color range. I lay both pieces together on the cutting board and cut them in gradated strips, 2″, 3″, 4″, etc. Then I sewed them together with the narrowest light of one to the widest side of the other, in gradation. Set in a vertical arrangement, it makes for light flowing through the trees.

Horizontal Piecing with a Frame

Envy

Envy was one horizontal light source yard, split in gradations with a half yard cut in 2″ strips put between. The piecing creates a sense of space. The narrowest strip in the gradation defines the horizon line.

Piecing within Multiple Frames

Sometimes I split the two fabrics with the light at the widest on one side and the dark widest cut so they can carry the light across the piece. Twightlight Time was also double framed with a 2″ and a progressive border. Having a narrower border on the top weights the bottom of the piece.

Piecing Machines

Lately, Don found me a Singer 99 at a yard sale. For those of you not familiar with these darlings, they are a featherweight industrial drop-in bobbin Singer. They only straight stitch, but the stitch is impeccable. They are tougher, and faster and they use bobbins that are still commercially available. I’d never seen one before, but I fell in love instantly. It took a little work and some creative parts searching, but Don got it working for me and it’s perhaps the best piecing machine I’ve ever had. Did I mention Don is my hero?

So I pieced the guinea hen’s background on it.

How do you keep it straight? It’s tricky. If I get them out of order the fabric doesn’t progress correctly through its colors. I make all my cuts, leave the fabric on the cutting board until I can number the pieces all on the back side. Since there are two pieces of fabric cut, I label my fabric, 1a,2a, etc. and 1b, 2b, etc. and chalk in the sequence on the ends so I can always keep them in order.

Expanding Fabric Size

Sometimes there’s just a beautiful fabric that needs to be bigger. That’s been known to happen too.

I needed a background for What the Flock, a grouping of guinea hens. I’m low on fabric and money right now, so I have to make do. I found a purple piece that should make a great meadow, but a yard was just a bit small. So I pieced in another half-yard to expand it. I cut the half yard in 2.5″ widths and graded the yard-long piece in segments of 9″, 8″, 7″, 6″, and 5″,

Seam Rollers

For those of you like me, who hate to run back and forth to the iron, there is a seam roller. You can use this gadget to flatten your seams right where you’re sewing. Roll it over the seam and you’ll have flat, ready-to-sew seams without the iron woman run.


I don’t piece often, but these backgrounds are worth it. I love the shaded light and the action of light of the fabric across the piece.


FENCED IN: Making Fences

Most artists have something they do specially. The secret to that is that special focus usually camouflages that which they are not good at. I’m no different. I can’t sew a straight line to save myself. So I don’t. I do nature images where straight lines aren’t a problem. I don’t do well on straight line piecing either.

Except that that is a limit. And I hate limits. So every so often I push past that and try no matter how bad I am at it.

I’ve been working on a garden series called bird feeders. The premise is that every good garden feeds and cares for everything that lives within that garden. And some things just don’t grow without support. Which means a fence. Of course I’m not talking about clean new straight fences. What fun is that?

I’m not good at fences. You should be able to piece a good fence. But I’m really not good at piecing. These are three things I’ve tried instead of that.

Years ago, I did a child’s book called Tigrey Leads the Parade. It was about my dog who ran away daily as an art form. Since it involved escaping from the yard, it involved a lot of fences. This is a fence, embroidered with #5 pearl cotton on a tea towel.

Tigrey Leads the Parade

I love these stitched fences. But they were tiny. When I wanted something bigger, I tried something with an oil paint stick rubbing. I found a border edging at Menards and rubbed the fence texture on to my background fabric.

Bird Feeder: Sunflower

I consider this a mixed success. I like the fact that the fence looks crooked and old. But the distortion, even with straight stitching and stabilizer was pretty ferocious. Were I to do it again, I’d use another layer of Stitch and Tear.

So when I went to do the next piece I had some left over gray pieces I’d used as sidewalk. I used them to make the fence. The wood grain stipple helps it, I think,

They didn’t quite work as realistically, but I think they made a good fence. And good fences, as Mr. Frost knows makes good neighbors. And better quilts.

Do I have it down yet? I don’t think so, but I think I’m closer. If we don’t push past our limits, the limits are real. No one wants that, right?

Fade to Black: Shading black objects for dimension

Envy

Black and white have the same problems. They’re absolute colors that are really harsh statements in their full form. I almost never do a completely black or white object because they are so overwhelmingly strong and so flat. They overwhelm instead of fitting in.

I’ve worked on creating a white dimensional bird out of different pastels and greys. You can see the result on this post, Into White.

But would the same approach work with black? Instead of using tinted pale colors to create depth, use toned darker colors to create shades of black and greys? That’s what I’m going to try. I’ll take step by step photos so you can see if it works.

Indigo Blues

Have I ever done this one this before? Sort of. I’ve done black before, but when it comes to the contrast shades I’ve turned to purple and blues all of which because they were in my stash were a bit bright. The effect was essentially a purple and blue bird. It’s a fun art statement, but it wasn’t what I was aiming for. I really did want black.

I found this great drawing of a raven I did years ago. It fits into my birdfeeder series, so we’ll see what we get.

This turned out to be hard. I ordered the darkest threads in blue, grey, brown, and purple for it. When they arrived they did look ugly.

The other hard thing was telling which were darker. The tones were very close. I used my red, and green color filters and did the best I could to arrange them dark to light.

The real question is, is this a brown/black raven or a blue/black raven? I’ve tried to mix both blues and browns for a neutral black.

It’s not uncommon for this process for the stitching to be discouraging. It doesn’t look really impressive half way through. So I’ve taken step by step photos so you can see the change.

It didn’t work the way I expected. I was quite disappointed. Then I did what I had planned in the beginning. I used black metallic as my last color. The last color is always your strongest color and the one you will see the most.

The final thing that helps this out is the background. I’m using this piece of hand dye that pulls towards the brown/grey shades even with the yellow reds in it. The color of your fabric is the light source of your piece. This background echoes the brown/blue/black quality of the bird.

Is this a final answer? It is for this piece. I want to play more with it after I’ve had a color fix working on something bright and showy. All these neutral darks are depressing, but I think I got my bird where he should be. I think he needs to be flying over conifers. Maybe I do too.

Back to the Drawing Board: Drawing to Make Creatures Feel Live

1017 Three Wishes

Embroidered appliques rely on a drawing to start with. It’s always a moment when I take a deep breath and give it my best shot. I’m not good at drawing. I’m just stubborn enough to keep at it until I have something useful that I’m usually aiming for is a creature in motion. I hate still lifes because the last thing they seem to be is living. If it’s in motion, it’s live.

In a way this is another reason for free motion. The perfection you find in computerized embroidery doesn’t help us here. Being less regular, smooth and even make things more real and interesting.

I usually draw on Totally Stable, which is a fairly good thin drawing surface that irons on and tears away from the final embroidery surface. It does not erase well, but I usually trace my first drawing to clean it up and to get it going in the right direction. Since the drawing is my pattern on the back, it needs to be facing the opposite direction for the applique. I do make some adjustments for shrinkage. Check out my post Drawing on Distortion for a discussion on how to plan for that.

Is it moving already?

Of course we are talking about a two dimensional art form. How do you make it move? There are several good tricks.

If it’s walking, flying, crawling or stepping up, you’re already half way there.

Don’t make things symmetrical

If things are in dimension, one side is always a bit smaller than the other. Of course it helps if one side is moving differently than the other. But the closer side will have a bigger eye, hand, wing, claw or whatever. That’s how we’d perceive it in life.

Depend on angles

. Things either drawn with an angle or put on an angle give the illusion of motion because our mind tells us they are in motion. We expect gravity to be in play when we see something at an angle. It’s moving because in real life it would be moving.

The best reference book I know for this is The Illusion of Life: Disney Animation. I’m not a big Disney fan, but Disney knows about creating images that flow and move from one frame to another. It’s not a cheap book but it’s one of the best.

So I draw things. And redraw them. And scratch out the lines I don’t like. And trace it once or twice. Until I have something that moves me and moves.

Old Lady Sewing Support: Making Art More Possible as We Age

Art is tough. It’s a blue collar profession and it’s physically challenging. I had someone ask me recently what I did as work arounds for the things that are possibly “too hard” at my age.

Of course that’s a bit of a barn door closed at the sight of a fleeing horse. I’ve never been all that sturdy, in spite of my solid heavy bones. My back has always been fragile. I’ve always had head ache, and arthritic knees. Bottom line, I’m not anyone’s idea of a physical specimen.

I can’t say it hasn’t mattered. There are some things I’m probably not ever good for, like standing for long periods of time or lifting heavy objects. I can’t say it ever really stopped me either. It helps to find easier ways.

If you want to do something bad enough, you find a way. The trick is to support yourself the best way you can, to make up for what you can’t do. Here are some of my old lady supporter sewing hacks.

Treat yourself like an athlete. Sewing is hard work. Stretch before, take breaks, and use a muscle rub to stretch and warm out before you start to sew.

Make sure your table is at the right height and you can adjust your chair to match it. There is no misery like a straight chair for sewing. Even very rudimentary rolling desk chairs can be adjusted just where you need them.

Make sure you have good lighting. Lighting makes everything easier from color choices to threading needles. I have swivel magnifying lights on each machine and 100 watt cool bulbs in the ceiling lights. It’s a bit bright for relaxing but it’s great for a work space. Make sure you have close up glasses if you need them.

Find ways that make things easier .for you. Set things up so you eliminate lifting. I have a cart for taking fabric to the washing machine. Use a reacher when you drop things. Place a trash can exactly where you’re working so you don’t have to pick up trash. Find ways to avoid reaching, stretching, bending and twisting, to keep from hurting yourself Look at tasks that are hard and ask yourself what you might do to simplify them.

Identify things that are just too hard. I have someone lift my dye buckets for me. And help me photo quilts. Sometimes you can ask a friend, or have someone who wants to learn what you’re doing. Or include one of your grand kids. It’s builds a relationship between you and teaches them things they’d never know otherwise. You too for that matter. Bribery works, but it needn’t be filthy luker. Just make sure no one feels underappreciated at the end of it all.

Look for gadgets that make it easier. I have a huge magnifier on my light. I have rotary cutters that are ergometric. Some are expensive, some are not. Usually if you ask around your guild or your favorite quilt stores for the things that help them most.

Finally rest when you need it. Have a lie down space or a comfy chair in your studio. Keep an ice pack in the refrigerator if you sprain or strain something. Listen to your body.

And most importantly, have someone who can tell you when you might need to stop. Tomorrow is another day, if you haven’t put yourself completely out of whack. Don does this. You can have a reasonable facsimile if you work on it but you can’t have him.

There’s no magic bullet. We all age. We all find our ways to make our time count more, and our work safer, even with our physical limits.

Into White: The Search for White Thread Painting

Some things are an experiment. Some things are a quest. Some things are like the holy grail and you keep searching for them interminably.

White is one of those things. When you’re working with thread painting, the easy answer is many shades of grey and then white, or many shades of beige and then white. Both are incredibly boring.

Why couldn’t you just make it white? I hear you say. You could. If you want it to shine out stronger than any other element in the quilt and you don’t care about dimension, you could. Pure white can be like an out of place spotlight in a quilt.

So the quest is, what mix of colors, greys and beiges will make a white that will have good depth, cast and drama. And look like it’s white.

In that quest, I’ve done a step by step photo study on this bird, in hopes to study it.

I’ve talked about zoning and shading before so I won’t flog that in this blog. “Rethinking White” is a post about shading white applique flowers. It’s a bit different than totally building color in thread. Because it’s built on sheers instead of strictly thread. But you may find that a useful difference.

Dimension is made by arranging colors from either dark to light or light to dark. It builds the illusion of shape. The progression of colors creates shade and shadow.

Here is my thread range I chose. It’s a mix of blues, purples, greens greys and beige, laid out dark to light.

I’ve put together some process shots to help explain.

Head Shots

Dimension comes from having a dark, medium and light area in each color zone in your piece. If you can establish dark, medium and light, you can make depth, something that isn’t by nature flat. Then for interest’s sake I added a shocker and a shader color to spark it. Of course the beak and the eye bring it to life.

Changing Cast

The two things you are building are cast and dimension. Cast is the color under the color. Most colors either lead towards the sun or the shade. You get the clearest colors by using only sun or shade colors in an embroidery.

But sometimes clear color isn’t the goal. If you want to come to a neutral shade, you mix both. And try not to go too far from the center. It makes a fabulous blended shade, but it’s hard to accomplish.

The cast on the under feathers was more yellow than the rest of the bird. An over stitched layer of a bluer grey pulls the color closer to center.

White doesn’t have to be boring. Or grey, or beige. With a little thinking and a close eye we can create a blended white with dimension.