A last make of 2018 and some year end thoughts



Happy holidays everybody! I hope that everybody who's reading this is having a peaceful, relaxing time wherever you are.

I certainly am! So much so that I'm borderline bored! But I'm sure I can think of something to fill the time with. Like updating here with my last make of 2018.

I'm probably safe to assume that most of the traffic to this blog comes from my Instagram account. So if you're reading this you have probably noticed that there have not been any sewing updates for a very long time. The reason is pretty straightforward - there has not been any sewing happening for a very long time.

I just haven't had the time. Or the motivation to be quite honest. A lot of things on my sewing list for this autumn have been really boring items. T-shirts and black skirts and the like. The 'cake' of sewing rather than the 'frosting.' And when time is limited sewing boring items just feels like a chore. Another thing to procrastinate on.

I managed one of the items on the list this autumn, before deciding to (metaphorically speaking) rip up the list. That one thing was a new version of an old red tartan skirt.


I made a skirt in this fabric and exact style years and years ago. But I made it sloppily. No lining, no waistband, no pattern matching.

All these things irritated me, but I loved the skirt. Since I had about 1 m left of the fabric I have been intending to make a new one for ages, addressing all the problems of the original one.

A couple of weeks ago I finally did. The pattern matching is near perfect, if I do say so myself. The waistband is the barely there narrow one I was missing on the original skirt. And it is lined. So tick, tick, tick. But it was soooo boring to sew! 

It feels fitting to end 2018 with a chore that I've been procrastinating on for years. Like the pressure (that I created myself) is off. So now I'm looking at 2019 sewing with the intention to only make 'frosting.' The new list is full of dresses, frills and fun fabrics. Can't wait to get started!

What sewing are you planning for 2019? 





The Barbour inspired Kelly Anorak


Finally, I can share my Kelly anorak. This one has been a long time in the making. Both the jacket and the blog post. I started gathering supplies and sewing in March and at the same time I started making notes in a Blogger draft post. The sewing and writing have been an equally slow process, but now finally both are finished. This is a superlong post, so now is a good time to grab a cup of tea.

I've given it subheadings for easier reading/scrolling.


The inspiration

I'll start with a bit of background. I love this shape of casual jackets and have wanted to sew the Kelly pretty much since the pattern came out. But, I generally don't have the patience for time-consuming and involved sewing projects, so I didn't think I'd actually do it. Yet for some reason I ordered the hardware kit from Closet Case Files. Just in case, I guess. That was June 2017.

Then, last Christmas Josh got me a Liberty-lined Barbour Abbey jacket. And it's the best thing ever! There is so much attention to detail, from the pockets lined with brushed cotton (or is it fine fleece?) for warmth, to the top collar being in fine corduroy, which is soft and warm against the skin when the collar is done up to protect against the wind. Not to mention, the Liberty details! The lining back yoke, the inside of the sleeve cuffs, the trimming around the inside pocket. Oh, and of course it's completely weatherproof. Manchester rain (/gale force winds/blizzards) has got nothing on this jacket! It has moved right to the very top of my favourite items of clothing ever and will stay firmly there for all infinity.

I lived in this coat for the first 3 months or so after I got it and I could happily have lived in it for the rest of the year/my life. Except that it's padded, so it's warm. And it started getting that little bit too warm around March time.

Considering how much I love this jacket I was really tempted to buy another Barbour, just the same, but without the padding. (So, essentially a Beadnell.) But I was also a bit tempted to make something similar.

The time had finally come for the Kelly anorak.



The decisions

I quickly learnt that there are a lot of decisions to be made with this pattern. Lined or unlined? Hood or collar? Shell fabric. Lining fabric. Snaps. Etc. I loved this, it makes it easy to customise to your own style and feel like you are making something unique.

I have to pause for a moment here to praise the genius that is Heather Lou. She has really thought of everything with this pattern and it can be varied a lot to fit a maker's style, practical needs and preferences. It's just a fantastic pattern! But more on that later.

Right, back to the decisions. The first decision I made was to use oilskin for the shell fabric. Partly for the challenge of it, partly because oilskin is water resistant and thus very practical, partly because I thought it'd be awesome if it turned out well. And if it failed miserably I could still go back to plan A of parting with a kidney to finance the purchase of the Barbour. (Actually, making the Kelly wasn't much cheaper, see my quick maths towards the end of the post.)

I knew that I wanted it properly lined, and that the lining would be sewn mainly from a  Liberty Tana Lawn. This decision was definitively inspired by the Barbour. I learned from wearing it all last winter that a Liberty fabric on the inside feels like wearing a bit of summer even on really grey days. Ok, this statement is borderline cringe-worthy, but it's true.

Next decision, I knew I didn't want a hood. I really, really don't like hoods. No idea why, just don't.

What I didn't know was whether I wanted the drawstring waist, but that decision was made for me when I started sewing and realised just how stiff the oilskin is. Even if I sewed a drawstring in, no way would I be able to use it.

The final decision was regarding the pockets. I knew that I wanted them to close properly as opposed to just have decorative snaps. I often carry things like my train pass and phone in my coat pockets and a) I don't want them getting wet, and b) I don't want to create an opportunity for pickpocketers. So I used the pocket variation extra pattern pieces, which are great.



The materials

Decisions made, I got started. First step: gathering materials.

The shell fabric (and interfacing)
I bought this Scottish oilskin from Merchant & Mills. It's both kind of amazing and kind of strange. It's like very thick paper. Very easy to cut, the scissors just glide through it. It doesn't need pressing as it can just be folded. (!?!) Yet, it is thick and densely woven, and very, very stiff! Which really had me questioning whether I wanted to interface anything at all. In the end I interfaced most pattern pieces that required it, mainly so I could be sure the snaps wouldn't damage the fabric when used. But, I didn't interface pieces L and M (the left and right facings) because these pieces were not going to have any snaps on them.


The sewing tools that made life easier
This fabric definitely needed a suitable needle. I used Janome's purple tipped needles, which are designed to work well on thick layers that need extra penetration power (never thought I'd use that phrase on a needlecraft blog).

For the first few bits of sewing I just used a regular foot, but as soon as my layers started getting thicker that really wasn't working well for me. So I switched to a walking foot, to help the fabric move through the machine evenly. This was especially useful for the facings, which contain lots of layers. Although it was a pain to keen switching between the walking foot and a zipper foot when installing the zipper and facings, it was worth the effort. Now, luckily I already owned a walking foot, but if I hadn't, these are like £45!

It's worth every pound of its price though. The combination of it and the needles really made a difference. When using just a normal foot and normal, but heavy-duty, needle I got a fair amount of skipped stitches. When I switched to a purple tipped needle and the walking foot, no skipped stitches. Moreover, the walking foot helped all those layers move through the machine evenly. If I was going to sew something like this with oilskin ever again this needle+foot combination would be non-negotiable.

The lining
As mentioned above, I knew that I wanted the jacket lined and that I wanted a Liberty lining. What I really didn't know, was which Liberty fabric. I narrowed it down to four that I thought would work with the oilskin and asked the sewing community on Instagram. However, all four options got a lot of votes, so I was none the wiser. In the end the choice was made for me, because two of my options were no longer available on the Liberty website in the colourways I liked. So I chose the Rachel Tana lawn, in a blue colourway.


I only lined the body in the Liberty cotton. The sleeves are lined with regular polyester lining fabric. Just for practical reasons. If you've ever worn a coat where the sleeves are lined in a cotton or similar you will know that the friction between the cotton and whatever material you're wearing just causes the sleeves of your top to bunch up and it's not at all comfortable. A silky material is a must for lining sleeves, in my opinion.



The sewing process

I struggled quite a lot with this coat, but actually I don't think it's that difficult to sew. Yes, there are many steps, but each one is actually ok. The only thing that confused me were the facings around the zipper, so I used the online sewalong for that. This is a fantastic resource! Use it!

I didn't have to do a great deal of unpicking at any point up until the sleeves. I went superslow with my sewing partly to minimise the mistakes I could make. Unpicked stitches on this fabric leave little holes behind, and I really wanted to avoid this. I made a mistake when attaching the front yokes to the front bodice pieces, in that I forgot the seam allowance was 5/8 inch and convinced myself it was 1/2 inch. I can only put this down to stupidity (read the instructions!!). But ok, this wasn't terrible, because my original stitch line fell onto the seam allowance once I'd corrected it, so no ugly holes luckily! I was less lucky with one of my facings, where I had to do some unpicking and the holes left behind are very visible (see photo below)



What was really hard
The other instance of unpicking was the sleeves. Omg! The sleeves! I thought the zipper would be the hardest to sew, but man, did the sleeves prove me wrong. Because my fabric is super thick and stiff, it was really hard to gather the sleeve heads to ease the sleeves into the arm opening. It was also really hard manoeuvring all that material to sew an even line all around. That was a case of unpicking, trying again, unpicking, trying again, throwing the whole coat out the window, sobbing, running into the garden to retrieve it, trying again (while sobbing). Ugh, this step alone almost put me off sewing with oilskin ever again.

Although it's closely followed in horribleness by the flatfelling of the sleeve seams. Flatfalling sleeves is hard enough in any fabric, but this fabric just doesn't move! It was not even a tiny bit enjoyable. If anybody told me I'd have to do it again I might just start crying.

What went wrong
So you won't be surprised to hear that everything that went wrong with this coat affected the sleeves.

First, I accidentally cut out the wrong length sleeves. Ok, easy enough fix. I simply added on some scrap fabric to the sleeves to make them longer. That was a very lucky error, because it allowed me to add some of the Liberty fabric (about 8 cm) to the bottom of the sleeve lining pieces, so that if I want to turn up the cuff a bit, the Liberty rather than the polyester is on display. Happy mistake!


The other potentially major mistake - I accidentally cut two right sleeves. Or rather, I think I cut everything correctly, but because my fabric looks exactly the same on both the right and wrong side, I think I confused myself when sewing and sewed two right sleeves. (!!!) My first thought was of course to cut out a new left sleeve, but I had only scraps left of the fabric, definitely not enough for a sleeve. So I cursed and cried a little bit. And then I realised! Because the fabric is reversible, I could simply turn the second right sleeve inside out and get a left sleeve! Honestly, sometimes the best solution is the easiest one. Ok, so the stitch lines on the felled sleeves give it away, because when done correctly the outside has only one stitch line and the inside two, and I've got one sleeve with one stitch line and the other with two. But honestly, if anybody noticed this I'd be too impressed to be embarrassed.


Now for some of the important questions...

Was it enjoyable to sew?
Honestly, no. I looked forward to making this, but it almost killed my love of sewing. In fairness, I did enjoy the first few steps, but once I had quite a few layers to work through it was pretty hard. The main issue is my shell fabric. The oilskin is so stiff that it just wouldn't move. It was so hard to manoeuvre and work with. The sleeves are a prime example. Now that I've finished it I'm glad I chose the oilskin and think that it was worth the effort, but if I ever sew with oilskin again I'll choose much easier projects.

The other massive issue was time. I didn't have a great deal of it and this is a pretty time-consuming project. Made even more so by my choice of a difficult fabric. So, I did it in painfully slow steps. I ordered the shell fabric in early March. Two weeks later I bought the PDF pattern and sent it to the printers. For this pattern I definitely didn't fancy taping together a billion A4 sheets. Then I was busy again so it took a couple of weeks before I had time to cut it out. Only by mid-April did I start sewing. I was literally snatching time where I could find it. One hour here, half an hour there.

The slow progress of the sewing contributed to the overall feeling of this not being an enjoyable sewing experience. I know some people love slow projects and chipping away at them, but I really don't. I lose patience so quickly.

Now, I'm fully aware that this stress around time is a problem I created myself. I shouldn't have started the Kelly when I didn't really have time for a project like it and instead saved it for a quieter period in the year. A lesson learnt for next time.

I guess the final reason it was not enjoyable is the very visible mistakes. I really took my time with this jacket and spent a lot of time on topstitching. But because of the issues I had with things like the sleeves and other bits with lots of layers, the stitching is not as good as I would have liked it to be. And that's really, really frustrating.

Despite the mainly unenjoyable sewing experience this time around, I do think I'll make another Kelly quite soon. I intended this one to be for spring with a lovely spring/summer floral lining. However, my slow sewing has turned it into an autumn coat instead. That's fine. But it does mean that I do want one for spring. And I want to have a go at making this in an easier fabric.


Now, I don't want this to sound like I'm hating on the oilskin. I am very much not. I love the oilskin and am happy that I chose it and kept going when it got difficult sewing with it. I LOVE the result! The point I'm making is that maybe this particular jacket in this fabric is somewhat above my skill level.


What do I think of the pattern?
I mean, there is a reason that everybody and their grandma has made a Kelly anorak and they all look great. It's a really fantastic pattern! So well-designed. All steps broken down clearly. Instructions supported by a great sewalong. And I've already mentioned all the options for customisation. I have nothing but praise for it.

I only really had one issue with the pattern itself. When the time came to install the snaps I noticed that there wasn't much room to do so. I had to put the snap bottoms (I'm sure that's not the right term) riiight next to the zipper and the snap tops on the very edge of the facing that covers the zipper to get them to fit.

I don't know if this is a problem with the pattern or if I did some previous step wrong and didn't notice. Since the snaps did just about fit it's not a massive issue on this jacket, but I'll have to pay a bit more attention to this with the next Kelly I sew.


Is it comfortable?
Yes, very. During the first few wears it was stiff and awkward and not great. And my disappointment was immense after all that work. But I gave it a chance and the oilskin has softened a little bit and now it's really, really comfortable. I keep reaching for it every time I leave the house.

However, I think the zipper is slightly too long for me. I walk fast with big steps and when the jacket is zipped it does limit my movement a bit. If I still try to walk fast it bunches up at the front. So for the next one I'll use a shorter zipper. For now, I close this one just with the snaps. Which works perfectly fine.


One of the reasons I chose the oilskin for the shell fabric was because I wanted a shell fabric that could handle Manchester weather (constant damp and rain). Having tried it out for two months now I'm happy to say that the oilskin does its job perfectly. It is water resistant and only once has water actually managed to get through it. But it was absolutely pouring, and only the sleeves got wet. So that adds a lot of comfort points!


How much did it cost?
So let's talk cost. I think all of us who sew know that making your own clothes usually isn't cheaper than buying ready-to-wear. However, I don't often think about precisely how much I spend on my homemade items. For this jacket I decided to keep track, so I could see how much I'd save compared to buying a Barbour. (Ha!)

So without further ado, the cost breakdown:

PDF pattern + lining extension: 22 USD (about £15)
Pattern printing: £12.60
Oilskin + postage: £48.95
Liberty lining, 1m + postage: £25.20
Hardware kit + postage: 43.62 USD (about £30) + whatever I paid in customs that I've forgotten now
Extra strong thread: £8.50
Purple tipped needles: £6.49

Grand total: £146.74*

*Not counting the things I already owned: interfacing, polyester lining for the sleeves, walking foot. Which would be about £45-50, putting the total at £191.74-196.74. (Cost increase driven mainly by the expensive walking foot.)

For reference, the classic Barbour Beadnell is £199. And Barbour offer a 15% student discount.

Soooo...this jacket in fact didn't save me anything.  Let's not even talk about how many hours I put into this! Just buying the Barbour would have been a far better financial decision.

But, every time I wear this it's with the knowledge that my own fair two hands made an oilskin coat. Pretty cool.


And finally, am I actually happy with it?

So perhaps the overall tone of this post has been quite negative. I wanted to be honest and describe what sewing this jacket was actually like. However, despite the mainly negative experience of sewing it, I am really, really happy with this jacket. It's comfortable and looks great. And I know just how well made it is. So it was worth the frustration of sewing it, totally.

I have posted some Instagram stories of making it over the last few months and gathered them under a highlights category. If you are curious on the process of making it, check out my 'Kelly Anorak' highlights on my profile: @danka.jandric .



Another Scout tee and some magical light


If you follow me on Instagram you'll probably know that I have a real soft spot for blue chambray. And as much as I am trying to not purchase new fabrics until I've worked through what I already have I just couldn't resist this blue striped chambray with little pink embroidered flamingos (scroll for close up). I mean, how could anybody, chambray lover or not?

I knew the second I saw it in the Fabric Godmother webshop (I tried to link to it, but it must be sold out, can't find it anymore) that I wanted to replicate my Scout tee hack from last year.

Said and done. The only difference is that the sleeves are somewhat shorter, both the sleeve itself and the ruffle. This was entirely dictated by the amount of fabric I had and the need to make the stripes go vertically on each pattern piece.

Oh, and I took in the body pieces by a few centimetres on each side. This chambray is not at all floaty, like the rayon I used for my yellow version, so it was just too boxy. I would have liked to take in a bit more than I did, but then I would have needed a zipper or some other opening at the back to get in and out of it, and well...laziness. Couldn't be asked. So I just tuck it into my jeans at the front, and that reduces some of the fabric bulk.


And that's kind of all I have to say about this make. I've made many Scouts before, and have sung the praises of this pattern in previous blog posts. But yeah, it's a great pattern. So versatile, hackable, adaptable. A real pattern collection workhorse. 

In terms of the sleeve hack, the details on how I did that are in my post from last year. It's a very simple hack, and therefore a brief description, but if anybody would like a more detailed one, let me know in the comments and I'll try to do a schematic or something like that (maybe a tutorial, so I have an excuse to make another one of these!).


On another topic, how amazing is the light in these photos? They are barely edited (if anything, I've reduced the saturation!). I went for a walk one night because I needed to clear my head, and the light was just insane (see the two photos below). All the dry and withered grass and weeds looked radiantly golden rather than their normally quite sad washed out yellowish-brown.

So the next day I decided to go for a walk at the same time, just in case it was as good. I put on this top and took the camera and tripod. Again, just in case.

And the light really was good. Very different. But all sorts of amazing. Have I mentioned how much I love the Peak District?






The happy accident Eliana dress


So after I made my Ruby top in soft and cool rayon I really fancied another garment in the same type of fabric. For these hot summer days we're having rayon and viscose challis are godsent.

I had two metres of some pretty cheap viscose challis I bought from Minerva Crafts last year and thought I'd do something with that. I wasn't quite sure about which pattern, but felt like I should use one I already had instead of buying a new one, in the spirit of working through my stash.

I had bought the Pauline Alice Eliana dress pattern ages ago and then just never used it. I don't really know why I bought it, because I didn't think the shape of the dress would suit me. And I had read a few blog posts that described little issues, like the armholes being very large. But because I had it and the fabric was pretty inexpensive, I decided to give it a go anyway. If it didn't come out well, nothing lost.

But! It came out amazingly! I LOVE how it fits! It has become my favourite dress for this summer! So floaty and cool, yet still looks quite put together and presentable.


My measurements came to a size 38 and that was pretty accurate. I only ended up changing two things to improve the fit. And one that had nothing to do with the fit.

I didn't include pockets. Only because my fabric is very thin and fine and I didn't want the bulk.

In terms of the fit, the first thing I changed was the position of the waist. On some of the images I've seen of the dress I thought the waist looked a bit low, so instead of sewing the skirt to the bodice, I just basted it, and then used a belt to tie it to test where it would sit on the torso once done up with the waist ties. It was a little bit too low down for my liking, so I just moved it up by about 2 cm.


The second thing was on the sides. Before I finished the side seams I checked the fit, and I felt the dress was way too loose around the waist. Ok around the bust and hips though. So I removed about 3 cm total on each side. If I make this pattern again (I'm very tempted to) I'll just grade down to a smaller size at the waist.


And if I do make another Eliana dress I'll change two more things. First, I'll make the bias binding for the neck ever so slightly wider. Mine was a bit too narrow to catch the volume of the gathered neckline properly and I ended up with lots of ugly stitches where I was correcting and fixing this. Ok, some of this is down to the fact that I was watching the football and drinking wine when sewing. But another 0.5 cm on the binding width would just make it easier.

Second, I'd take out a few centimetres at the back. There's just that little bit too much fabric there right now.


But on the whole, I'm superhappy with this dress. And I think the cheap fabric and (initially) unloved pattern are the perfect match! I'll be living in this as long as this heatwave lasts.

I wore it for an evening walk the other day, when I took these photos, and picked some willow herb. This time just for a meadow flower bouquet for the kitchen table, but next time I think I'll have a go at making some cordial out of them. Can you make anything else from them? If you have any good tips, comment below!

But how beautiful are they? I know that for gardeners willow herb can be a real pest, but on meadows and along train tracks they just look lovely. Summer and nature really are two of my favourite things. Despite the joy of being able to wear summer dresses every day, I'm hoping for a bit of rain, so all plants get a chance to recover from this crazy heat.





The Tessuti Ruby top that made me love sewing again



My last blog post was in February and to be honest there hasn't been much sewing since. In March I started the Kelly Anorak and 1) it was really difficult in my chosen fabric, and 2) I was really busy with life in general and progress was superslow.

Somewhere between difficult and stressed I fell out of love with sewing. I was honestly so fed up with it. The whole point of it was that it is meant to be enjoyable, and I was not having fun. I'll tell you the whole story of the Kelly in its own post eventually, but yeah, it wasn't my favourite thing to sew. It's neither the pattern's nor the fabric's fault. It's the combination of the two with lack of time. Just terrible combo.

But I kept going with the jacket and by the end of May I only had the snaps left (which I still haven't added). And when it was almost done and it had turned out pretty good that fed up feeling started to get replaced with a 'ooh, what will I make next?' feeling. I couldn't face anything even slightly difficult, so I decided on a very simple top - the Ruby top by Tessuti.

I had one metre of some blue rayon which was perfect for it. And this pattern was just the palate cleanser I needed after 2.5 months of sewing with oilcloth. It was so easy. And so quick. And turned out so well, with no modifications whatsoever.


But also, it is so good for the current heatwave we're having! Rayon is floaty and cool, so it's ideal for warm temperatures. I have been wearing this top pretty much non-stop since I made it.

Including on my birthday, two weeks ago. I really fancied going hiking, so that's what we did. Around the beautiful village of Castleton and up Mam Tor. Probably my favourite Peak District hike so far. Since I don't have any more photos of the top to show, here's some from the hike.


A Grainline Linden and first impressions



This is a story not so much about the Linden (what's there to say really? it's fantastic!), but about adjusting to life in the North. I've mentioned in my 2017 summary that I haven't really loved Manchester since moving here. And neither has Josh. A big part of that is that we miss our old life in the Oxfordshire countryside.

So after a few months in a Manchester suburb (nice, as far as suburbs go) we decided to have a look outside Greater Manchester, to see if maybe there was a bit of countryside a commutable distance away.

We really liked the little town of Glossop and its surrounding towns/villages, at the edge of the Peak District. With its stone cottages and windy streets and cute shops and restaurants it reminds of some of the Oxfordshire towns. But while Oxfordshire has picturesque green rolling fields, Glossop is set against the dramatic and rugged Peak District. As you can image, it's gorgeous!

(Also, we're not hung up on Oxford, but it's where we spent most of our life together, so in many ways it's a reference point.)

So we did it. We moved. And it was stressful and unsettling and exhausting. But now it feels good.


Admittedly, we've only been here a week, but I can already tell a difference. The very air feels different (colder!). There has been an instant improvement to my sleep. It's so nice knowing there is beautiful nature a short walk away from our house (as opposed to a drive away!). I'm feeling very positive about this decision.

In celebration of a good decision I took my new Grainline Linden for it's first wear, a freezing walk around a reservoir.


So let me tell you a bit about the Linden. I bought the pattern some time ago and indeed intended to make it some time ago. But then I was distracted by the Toaster sweatshirt, and suddenly it was spring and the last thing on my mind was a sweatshirt!

Last autumn I started thinking about it again, but the fabric I wanted, this fleece lined yellow cotton sweatshirting from Guthrie & Ghani, was out of stock. I emailed them and they were amazing! They got in touch as soon as it was available again. I ordered it straightaway, but I was too busy just then. So, it became my January project. I finished it a few weeks ago, but because I was packing to move house, I didn't get a chance to wear it. So as you can tell, this sweatshirt really is a story of delayed gratification!

But it was worth the wait. It kept me warm on that freezing walk, and I am wearing it now, writing this with the snow falling outside (Sunday afternoon).


In terms on construction, I cut a size 6 of view A, but omitted the waistband. It was incredible easy to sew, once I figured out why my machine was skipping stitches.

This was really strange. I changed the needle, tried both a needle for knits and a regular one, played with the tension, everything I could think of. In the end I tried another thread, and the problem was gone. Which makes me think that the cheap polyester thread I had bought was rubbish. The problem was, I didn't have another yellow thread. So I switched to a white top thread and kept the yellow on the bobbin, and that was ok. But it was very strange and cost me an hour of sewing time! Not to mention that I had to do all topstitching upside down! Luckily there's not much topstitching.

In terms of the pattern, I found the neckline band a bit too short and had to cut a new, longer one (about 6 cm longer). I'm thinking maybe my fabric wasn't stretchy enough? Also, I thought the neckline band was a bit too thin, so I added on 1 cm of width.

Other than that, this pattern is easy peasy! I totally get why everybody loves it. This is a bandwagon I'm more than happy to jump on.



A 'weather safe' merino turtleneck



In 2016, when I went to Australia on holiday, I picked up some absolutely lovely merino jersey from The Fabric Store. Most of it was used to make a Maria Denmark Rachel wrap dress, which I've shown on Instagram a number of times. But the second make from this fabric, made from the scraps that remained after the dress, has been hidden away like a well kept secret. Actually, there is nothing secret about it. It's just that it's usually layered underneath lots of other clothes (like in the photo above) and rarely gets photographed.

I'm talking about the best turtleneck ever.

It's unfortunate that the shutter went off just as I was pulling up my jeans, but the tee looks good here, so forgive my wardrobe adjustment.

As you know by now, I love turtlenecks. Not least because they are a fantastic layering item but also smart enough to be worn on their own. And the perfect pattern in my opinion is the Named Paola turtleneck tee.

So naturally I had some make one in this lovely merino. However, when I made it, I don't think I realised quite how much I'd love it.

It has become my 'weather safe' turtleneck. What I mean by that is that I can rely on it to keep me warm and comfortable in most winter weather I might encounter. I've worn it in the Alps, far up in northern Sweden and most recently in the Scottish Highlands. And it hasn't failed me yet.

It's like a great merino base layer, but looks a lot nicer.


These photos are from a reaaaaaally windy walk along the canal in Inverness. It might look sunny, but can you see in the first photo that I'm holding my hair? It's because in every photo that I don't you can't even see my face.

Later that day my friend and I were heading out for a few drinks and dinner. All I did was change my trousers and shoes and put on some lipstick. The turtleneck stayed.


And this is another reason why I love it so. It's versatile and can look perfectly smart too. In fact, its first ever wear was to one of my PhD interviews, tucked into a black skirt and worn with ankle boots. It was cold but I didn't want to wear something bulky or too many layers. The turtleneck did the trick to keep me warm.

So now I'm thinking that ahead of next winter I'll order more of this lovely fabric from Australia and make a few more of these turtlenecks in different colours. A grey and a black one are a must in my wardrobe.

Especially as there'll be many more trips like this one to Scotland. Which brings me onto the reason for the trip. A very close friend and her fiancé have moved up to Inverness. They moved some time ago but life has gotten in the way on both sides and we haven't found the time to meet up in either Inverness or Manchester until now. But last Friday I got on a 7h train and spent the whole weekend with them. And it was amazing!

Here are a few photos from the first day, before the snow melted:


(PS. Photo credit for the photos of me goes to Victoria.)