Put This On

How to tailor a button-down shirt for a perfect fit.

When I was researching the Q&A for episode four of Put This On, I reached for one of my favorite reference books, “Home Comforts: The Art and Science of Keeping House,” by Cheryl Mendelson. Ms. Mendelson is a true domestic goddess.

The book offers practical advice and explanations of everything from laundry to vacuuming to sewing to entertaining. It’s exceptionally well-written and absolutely fascinating. The advice is consistently excellent, as well. It’s my shortcut to figuring out how to do things the Right Way.

Of particular note to readers of the blog are the careful explanations of the valuable properties of various fabrics, the simple explanations of clothing repair techniques, and the rundowns on ironing and stain removal. Whether you live alone, or share home care duties with a partner, it’s essential information.

The book costs less than twenty bucks, and it’s worth every penny.

Taylor got into sewing about a year ago, and he just made himself these jeans. Holy moley.

After some success making scarves for a few close friends and family members this holiday season, I thought I’d try a genuinely ambitious sewing project. The tricky bit of learning to sew when you’re a man is that there’s no basic building block piece you can make. Women who are bad at sewing can make skirts. Men who are bad at sewing can make… skirts.

So after careful consideration, I’m going to take a stab at making a pair of pajamas. I bought a pattern for $5 on eBay, and headed down to LA’s fashion district to buy some fabric.

The big fabric stores, like Michael Levine, tend to cater towards seamstresses, not tailors. That means lots of cotton floral prints and not a lot that I would want to wear as pajamas. Some careful research turned up B. Black & Sons, who’ve been supplying woolens to tailors since the 20’s. I figured that if they didn’t have shirtings suitable for my PJs, they’d at least know who would.

The gentlemen who work at B. Black were a little perplexed by my presence, but offered a few helpful words of advice and sent me off to wander through the store. It’s a big place, and chock full of suiting wool of every kind, but they had some cotton here and there, and I found something I liked. It’s a pretty simple blue pinpoint oxford. Ten bucks a yard, and I needed six yards… this won’t necessarily be a money-saving project, but I went for it. A few buttons from the notions counter and I was all set.

So, now I’m armed with a pattern, some buttons and no idea what the fuck I’m doing. Wish me luck.

(photo by Nick Solares)

A lovely Pendleton patchwork blanket, made from scrap pieces from the Pendleton Outlet.  Total cost of materials: $12.

(Thanks, Peter)

After checking out our post on making your own pocket squares, Brandon from San Francisco stopped by the fabric store, bought some silk and made this little beauty.  Great work!

If you’re feeling handy, like me, then here’s an excellent step-by-step guide to making your own pocket squares.  You can start with almost any fabric you’d like (like old bedsheets or a torn shirt), and all you need is a needle and thread.

I made something.

A few months ago, my wife and I decided to learn to sew.  Our ambitions, to begin, were modest.  She would maybe make a skirt, or a romper.  I would make a scarf.

Of course, the sewing classes at my local community college were all-female affairs (with the exception of yours truly), and they were dedicated to making skirts.  Luckily, I was able to pick up enough skill that when my mom found us a sewing machine at an estate sale, I achieved my dreams: a scarf.

First, I bought some Harris Tweed yardage on eBay.  The color is tough to see in the photo - it’s sort of a gunmetal gray, with a tinge of blue and flecks of green and blue-green.  Then I headed down to my local fabric superstore (Michael Levine, in downtown LA) for a lining.  I initially intended to go with silk, but was struck by a beautiful linen woven in Italy by Armani.  I’m not a huge Armani fan, myself, but the fabric was undeniable, and had the heft to stand up to the tweed, along with the softness to be next to my tender neck.

I cut the fabric (the scarf is about 6”x70”), pinned it, sewed the edges to bind them, then ran a straight stitch down three and a half sides.  Got my fingers in there, pulled it right side out, and pressed the seams flat with my iron.  Then I closed the hole I’d pulled it through with a bit of Tear Mender, and voila!

Who knows… maybe if you’re lucky I’ll start a side business.