Sewing Class: The Workroom

As a child, I wanted to design my own clothing, and I suppose this is why I cherish online shopping so much. I get a very specific idea of something I’d like to wear and I won’t stop until I’ve found that tiny little eBay shop in Estonia that charges an arm and a leg for this one style in the right colour. This childhood dream could have saved me loads of money and scrounging, but it’s just that the sewing machines are out to get me.

This is what I told myself when I was 12 and threw my arms up in despair as that damn sewing machine chomped up a piece of fabric for the 20th time. With the exception of half a semester of economics and my Mum showing me once or twice, I had no real sewing machine experience growing up. I just know that every time I tried to use one, it never worked out for me (assuming I ever got far enough to understand what came after that bobbin business).

When we moved to Parkdale, I immediately noticed the storefront a block away call The Workroom, and it was adorable. Every evening, I would see people sitting at the dimly lit sewing machines working away, and it didn’t take me long to look into their sew-by-the-hour; $8 an hour. I was interested until I remembered my previous experiences…

Hm. Maybe they have classes. Sure enough, just what a budding seamstress needed: $55 for a 3-hour course in Sewing Fundamentals, made specifically for people who have never touched a sewing machine (or have the kiss of death when they do). This class is also required if you ever want to sew by then hour at The Workroom. There are dozens of other classes including cross-stitch, dying, stationary printing, quilting, pattern design, and embroidery (among how to sew basically anything from your own clothes to upholstering furniture). Prices range from $55 (sewing fundamentals, leather clutch purse, alternations, etc.) to $220 (pattern sewing, japanese dresses, upholstery, etc.), with some higher price points for specific quilting projects. I hope to take some more of these classes as I get a bit more comfortable with the machines, but for today, this is all I wanted.

Classes are typically a couple evenings a week with a handful of weekend classes, so I booked super early (like, 5 weeks early) for the next available Saturday class. With only 6 spots in each class, it books up pretty quick – half of our class got their sewing machines for Christmas, so you can see what sort of wait time there is for these weekend workshops.

The class would have us making an envelope cushion cover for a 16″ cushion. You could either bring your own supplies, or buy them at the shop. I opted to buy my fabric from Designer Fabrics (whoa, that website) but got the thread and pillow form from The Workroom ($3 for Mettler thread spool, $9 for a 16″ inner cushion). It was the perfect class atmosphere when walking in; sun pouring through the bay windows, creaky hardwood floor, colourful fabrics lining the walls; in my world of cubicles and boardrooms, it was refreshing to be in a place that actually wanted you to enjoy yourself while learning.

Not my photo, but there was a dog there as well. Maisy trotted and lay around the shop, occasionally getting tangled in a sewing machine or two.

The first 45 minutes of class was just talk; how to thread the machine, stitch types, spacing, learning what each part does, what not to touch, common mistakes, common remedies; I don’t think there’s a single feature on the machine that I’m left wondering about. Most of us were taught on new Bernina machines with digital displays, but there are some manual machines for those who want something a bit more relatable (unless you have $1,400 lying around).

Once we got into sewing, we learned to cut from a pattern, overlock the edges, and iron the folds as we prepared to sew. I’ll definitely be a fan of outlining the pattern with chalk because cutting along paper? Nope. Once the groundwork was laid out, we got to sewing. I can’t really explain this part without being both long-winded and boring, so let’s just say it turned out to be this!

Really quite proud. The seams are straight, the corners are squared, and it’s designed to be just small enough for a firm, tight fit.

I’m definitely interested in taking more of The Workroom’s classes (I’d love to work with leather or alter my own clothes), but in the mean time, this is all I need! As I mentioned in the first post, I want to make my own curtains, and this is really simply enough! The hardest part now will be finding a fabric that works in our tiny living room. Any suggests for a white room with brown carpet, black furniture, and turquoise accents? Didn’t think so.

I’ll be sure to update here when I make my curtains and see how my sewing knowledge holds up.

Mason Jar Light: Not-so DIY

Ooooo had to get out the fancy camera this time. Don’t get used to it, it’s just impossible to photograph a light bulb.

Kyle and I are at a constant tug-a-war with the living room light. I like the corner lamp because it’s a soft light, and lights everything in a pretty inoffensive way; he hates it because it’s too dark and claims he can’t see anything. He likes the ceiling light fixture with its two fluorescent bulbs because everything is very clearly lit; I hate it because you could do open-heart surgery by it.

That’s not why I wanted a new light fixture though. I just couldn’t help but realize that I’ve been living with these same dome lights pretty much my entire life no matter where I was, and that maybe something fresh and different would be the key factor in truly changing the image of the apartment. My inner hipster loves anything with mason jars and since I’ve relapsed with my Etsy addiction lately, this seemed like a great idea.

Most DIY tutorials will walk you through how to put together a light socket kit, but as much as I want to be handy, I have no desire to start anything to do with wiring. I needed more than one pendant to make sure the room would be properly lit, so I picked up this 3 mini-pendant light fixture from Lowes ($62 with tax – this definitely would have been cheaper had I done it myself). I also got 3 wide-mouth mason jars from Micheals (total $14 with tax) – one large, two medium. That was the easy part.

My Dad has enough tools to – I think, anyway – officially call the basement a workshop. This is lucky, as I don’t own a hole saw to cut through the lids. He did this for me in the time that it probably would have taken me to identify what a hole saw looked like, and I was sent home with my newly cut jar lids and my light fixture, ready to put up.

It looks like a science experiment or octopus torture chamber.

Not true, however, and this is something that no DIY tutorial told me. You need to drill a couple tiny holes in the top of the lids to allow heat that builds up from the light bulb to escape. Mason jars have one function – to trap air. If that heat builds up, I can only assume you’ll have glass and filament raining upon you someday. Not hard at all though!

Remember to wear safety glasses in case of falling debris. Or if you don’t have safety glasses, grab those Urban Outfitters glasses you bought last summer that you thought would look cool but actually look awful and were a waste of $16 and for some reason you haven’t thrown them out. They’ll do in a pinch. But throw them out after, k?

See that sweater? Trade that in for a t-shirt too. I was gasping by the end.

The short list of things I like about this apartment includes the fact that I have access to my breaker box; it makes this much easier and well, possible. You better turn off the power to this particular light. Of course you have no idea what any of these do.

Good thing your hyper-organized friend got you 5 colours of Post-Its and pens for Christmas. Take this chance to label which ones do what and turn off the right one once you find it.

One last note on safety…. DO NOT DO THIS:

I don’t own a ladder, but a step stool on a coffee table that I’ve already admitted only has 3 functioning legs is not an acceptable cause of death. Don’t let the fact that I’m alive to write this fool you into thinking it’s safe. I’m an idiot, remember.

After that it was your basic dismantling. I used this as a guideline on how to switch out a light fixture. I guess it went smoothly enough, except that when it came time to put the new base in, I couldn’t figure out why the new screws didn’t seem to fit. This could be why:

So I used the old screws to fit the new base. Hope they don’t crumble and die though, ’cause they seemed to be as old as the building.

Full disclosure, this isn’t perfect. As you can see, it’s an external base, unlike most places which would have a nice hole here. Because of this, the peg on my new light fixture ended up being too long, and so the fixture hung about an inch from the ceiling. I frantically paced back and forth for several minutes before the obvious solution occurred to me; the same solution I used for the screws. Use old parts.

I call it the nipple, for obvious and mature reasons, but it’s the piece off the old dome fixture that filled in that hollow space between the bolt and the base. I plan on it being temporary, but unless I can find a nickel finish version of this, I guess it’s not the worst thing if it sticks. Open to suggestions!
Yes, there’s a tiny bit of cable peaking out. It’s taunting me.

My face must have looked like Christmas when I switched the power back on and everything, well, worked. Not only that, but the lighting was perfect; it was the perfect balance between the open-heart surgery light and the too-dark lamp. The glass cast some cool subtle shadows across the apartment as well (because they hang lower, the light now shines through the liquor cabinet), and the tiny holes in the top provided a fun pattern on the ceiling.

In terms of bulbs, these are 60W candelabra sockets. I ended up using 40W clear bulbs (store was out of frosted – I’d like to try those so it’s easier to look at), but I tested some 25W Edison bulbs before them. They were brighter than I expected, but just not quite bright enough to light the room to a decent level.

So that’s how we pulled off the mason jar light fixture – sort of DIY. I’m happy with the result, and I’d do it for my entryway light if we wouldn’t become known as the people obsessed with mason jars.

Cost of Light: $62 + $14
Source: Lowes, Micheals