Dewey Decimal DD646 DD746 &&& -- finish bed-making essaybroken link repaired 2 October 2019, 17 November 2020
Except for pillowcases, this section is for things which are squares, rectangles, or right triangles of cloth. I begin with squares that have handles at the corners, then discuss various purposes for simple cloths. Curtains will have their own section, and ponchos are discussed under "garments". Bags which are not pillowcases also have their own section.
See also edge finishes.
A leaf carrier is a square of burlap with loops at the corners to lift or drag it by. Instructions are given for small, for grass clippings, medium, for chopped leaves, and large, for fluffy leaves.
After the leaf-carrier instructions are suggestions for shopping bags etc.
All three leaf carriers are made from agricultural burlap, available at garden stores. This fabric is so coarse that you can cut along a thread without drawing it first. Very cheap, flimsy burlaps are useful for "ball and burlap" plants, so you may have to look in more than one shop to find a sturdy-but-lightweight burlap. Decorator burlap is tightly woven, for use as curtains, and that makes it too heavy for a leaf carrier. (Not to mention too expensive.)
For handles and hem tape, use carpet binding from the fabric store, or a lightweight webbing or coarse twill tape from an outdoor supplier. Thicker tape can be narrower, but don't go below 3/4 inch, and use inch-wide tape if you've got it. Wider tape is easier to install, and more comfortable when you are pulling a heavy load of leaves — but don't get carried away. I wouldn't go wider than two inches.
Cotton tape is adequately weather-resistant and durable, easier to sew than polyester, and easier on your hands. But one usually wears gloves at leaf-hauling time, and this is a particularly easy pattern, so use whatever tape is cheap, strong, and easy to get.
Theoretically, one ought to sew jute with cotton or linen thread, but strong cotton thread is so hard to come by that it's a waste to use it on a leaf carrier, and linen thread isn't available at all. Use whatever strong thread you have on hand and want to get rid of, since color doesn't matter. Or use a weak thread double.
For the two larger sizes, with their zig-zag seams, you will need quite a lot of thread.
If you haven't got a zig-zag sewing machine, overlap the selvages and stitch along each edge to join two breadths of burlap. Since the threads are so easy to see, it is not necessary to draw a guideline first. (See "lapped seam" under "seams".)
Use the coarsest pins you can get your hands on, as ordinary sewing pins will fall out of the coarse weave. You might go so far as to use fine finishing nails, if some happen to be lying around.
NOTE: Burlap sheds like crazy. After making a leaf carrier, take off the needle plate and other detachables, and brush out your machine. Blow vigorously into the corners that your brush can't reach. If the machine is electronic, use a vacuum cleaner with an extra-small crevice tool — blowing will blow dirt deeper into the intricate works. You can buy mini attachments for a vacuum cleaner at a computer store.
Cut a piece of burlap two inches longer than it is wide, cutting between threads at both ends to make the edges straight and square. Turn under one inch on each end. The iron will not be needed; pinch the fabric between two threads, and pin near the fold.
Now pin tape about a quarter inch from the edges (a trifle more if using 3/4" tape), beginning on a selvage edge a foot or so from the corner. This extension along the selvage anchors the handle, and re-inforces a point of wear. Measure one foot of tape from the corner and put in a pin. Lay the tape in a triangle to bring it back with the pin at the selvage and the tape in position to continue along the hem. Make both folds in the same direction, so that the tape still has the same side up, and there is no twist in the handle. Continue across the hem, covering the raw edge, make another handle, and continue down the selvage as far as you did on the other corner.
Use a spool or suitable round object to draw a smooth curve from one outer edge of the tape to the other, in the square where the tape crosses itself. A curved corner will spread the strain over several stitches when the handle is pulled.
Straight-stitch along the edge of the tape which is nearer the edge of the fabric, stitching along the curve you drew at the corner to pass from one stretch of tape to the next.
Now sew down the ends and inner edge of the tape. Ironing with spray starch before this step is convenient, but not strictly necessary. If you have a zig-zag machine, zigzag the inner edge — it is easier to put a wider stitch in the right place. Since this edge bears little strain, you can turn a square corner, but take a stitch between pivots.
Press open the seam with your thumbnail, snipping thread as required to make it lie flat. You will need to loosen the stitching where you've caught more than one thread, and may need to snip where the thread has drawn up between missed stitches. The thread will loosen for an inch or more to each side of each snip, so don't snip *too* often.
You can do this pressing on the bed of the sewing machine as the fabric approaches the needle.
With the stitch still on maximum width, but a trifle shorter — say three millimeters — zig-zag down the seam, securing the selvages edge-to-edge.
Hem and make handles as for small carrier.
Cut three pieces of burlap, each two inches more than three times the width of the fabric. Join them into a square with two seams like the one seam in the medium carrier, and hem and make handles as for the small carrier.
You can make the small carrier of finer
materials and use it for less-rugged
purposes.
A square of thin, strong fabric takes up
little room in your purse or pocket, but can gather
many small purchases, or put handles on a large
one.
Flat bags are good for carrying work around,
because they can be spread out to provide a clean
working surface, and they automatically gather up
all your bits when it is time to move on. If
you want to put the bag down and haven't got a
convenient hook or doorknob, you can tie the
corners together. (There are also uses for a
circle with a drawstring around the edge.)
You will probably want a hem around all four
edges even if the selvages are good. Miter
the corners by folding down each corner on the true
bias before folding the hems. You might want
to make the bias creases slightly inside the
intersections of the hem creases, to blunt the
corners a little.
The easiest way to join twill tape that goes
around a circle or square is to fold under the raw
edge of the tape at the beginning, then fold the
end to just meet the fold of the beginning.
Whip the two folds together after the tape is sewn
on. *Don't* begin and end at a corner; start
somewhere along one side.
Handles of various sorts can be sewn to the
corners of a hemmed or lined square.
You can make handles of twill tape or ribbon
without running it all the way around the bag
— line up the loop with the bias of the
corner. The strongest method is to sandwich
the corner between the two ends of the tape.
You can line a strip of fabric and bar tack
the ends to a corner, putting a flat button on each
side to take the strain.
Bangle bracelets are elegant, but the bag must
be small, lest the weight of the contents cause the
bracelets to bruise your arm.
Flat bags are tempting targets for patchwork,
appliqué, embroidery, tie-dye, fabric paint,
and the like. If you decorate a bag, bear in
mind how it will look in operation — the
corners of the bag will be gathered together, and
the middle will point at the earth where only
gophers can see it. If it is a knitting bag,
you will find the decorated side hidden when it is
spread on your lap or a table during work.
You can, of course, turn the decorated side to the
inside, or decorate both sides, but a plain surface
is easier to work on, and the work will hide your
decorations anyway.
If the bag is patchwork, it should be lined to
hide the seams. (Unless the design lends
itself to being put together with flat-felled
seams.)
One way is to turn down a wide strip of
patchwork to form a border around the inside, and
appliqué a smaller square of plain fabric
over the middle.
Another is to make the lining and patchwork
the same size, put the wrong sides together, and
bind the edges together with bias tape.
I don't like the method of putting the bag and
lining right sides together, sewing around the
edges, turning right-side out, and slip-stitching
the turning gap. It is harder to make neat,
and some sort of border between the lining and the
cover considerably improves the appearance.
One good design is to make two patchwork
squares the same size, with the lining made of one
large square surrounded by smaller patches that
echo the design on the outside, turn under the raw
edges of both squares, put them wrong sides
together, and stitch around the edges.
Flat bags are a good way to practice
techniques that you plan to use on bed covers or
wall hangings.
Take a piece of cloth one yard long and
forty inches wide — or whatever suits your
pillows.
Mom used 36" fabric to make her pillowcases,
and I have an imported pillow that requires 43"
fabric. One yard of forty-inch fabric will
fit a standard American pillow. If the
pillow is non-standard, measure a pillowcase you
like, and add allowances for hems and seams.
If you have no pillowcase, measure the pillow and
add ease and allowances. To keep the pillow
hidden, the finished case must be at least four
inches longer than the pillow, and six inches is
better.
Match the selvages, and sew a half-inch seam
down the side and across one of the torn
ends. Take one stitch on the bias when
turning the corner, since a sharp turn is like a
knife in your seam. Trim the corner by
making two straight cuts on the bias, one a trifle
more than an eighth of an inch from the bias
stitch, and one a trifle farther. Or cut
both layers to a quarter inch, then cut a sixteenth
of an inch off one of them.
Stitch straight off the folded edge, and don't
trim the allowance in this corner. Tie the
threads in an overhand knot and tighten the knot
around a pin stuck into the folded edge, to
persuade it to snuggle close to the end of the
seam. Trim the threads to half an inch.
You have many other choices about securing the
end, since there is little strain on the
corner. Among them: tie the two threads
together in a square knot, shorten the stitch
length for the last few stitches — you can
even get away with backstitching (take one stitch
in reverse just before you sew off the edge).
Or just don't trim the ends too close; there aren't
going to be any forces that would pull them back
through the cloth.
Do nothing about securing the beginning of the
seam, since it will be covered by the hem.
Press the outer end of the seam open and turn
down a hem. Press the raw edge under a
quarter of an inch, then turn down one-and-a-half
to two inches for a hem — or whatever makes
your case the same length as one that you
like. Stitch by machine near the fold.
Turn the case right-side out, using a corsage pin
or a point turner to make the corners lie
flat. (A point turner pushes from the
inside; a corsage pin pulls from the outside.)
If you have a sleeve board handy, press the
seam all the way to the corner; it will make the
case easier to turn right-side out. If the
pillowcase is to be a fancy one, also press open
the bottom seam. I snap everyday pillowcases
like a dirty rug to settle the bottom seam.
Buy four, eight, or sixteen yards of
fabric. Wash it. Bed linen can be
made without knowing the exact finished size, but
you'll want the fabric washed before you put your
face on it, so you might as well do it before
cutting it. Besides, after it's washed, you
might find that you didn't buy what you thought you
bought, and want to make something else out of
it. (If you intend to do fancywork, soak the
fabric in detergent overnight, or wash it more than
once.) To prevent ravelling, baste the two raw
edges together. This also makes the strip
half as long, which reduces tangling in the
washer. Dry it before attempting to remove
the basting.
If the fabric isn't the correct width, tear
off *both* selvages, to make a neater seam.
If there isn't enough excess width to tear twice,
use the full width — it won't be enough extra
to matter. Before tearing off the waste
strips, find out what width roller bandages your
missionary society or first-aid instructor
uses. The cloth need not be white; bright,
pretty bandages make a patient — or a nervous
trainee — feel better.
Selvage strips can sometimes be used instead
of twill tape in other projects.
If the fabric is about 60" wide, tear it into
one 40" strip and one 20.5" strip. If just
barely enough, divide it into thirds, and start the
tear a quarter inch from the one-third mark, so
that one strip is half an inch more than half as
wide as the other. If you are fudging on the
width, it will be necessary to sew a selvage to a
torn edge, since you can't spare fabric to tear the
selvage to match. Since it can't fray, the
selvage may use a narrower seam allowance than the
torn edge: Just barely enough to conceal the
different texture of the edge is plenty. You
can use even less, if you don't care how it looks.
Tear the narrower strip into two-yard lengths
and make two seams per pillowcase.
Straighten the ends of the fabric by tearing
or by drawing a thread, whichever is more
convenient. Tear the cloth in half, then
tear the halves in half until you have as many
pieces as you bought yards. (Or half as
many, in the case of 20.5-inch fabric.) If
the number of yards you bought isn't a power of two
(4, 8, 16, 32, 64 . . . ), you'll have to
measure. Try to divide it into powers of two
the first time you measure, to save work.
Twelve yards, for example, can be divided into
three four-yard pieces, then you can tear the
pieces in half twice. Twenty yards can be
divided sixteen and four, nine yards becomes one
and eight. When measuring, remember that
your yards got shorter when you washed them.
Steam-iron the torn edges to shrink them back
into shape. It may be convenient to dampen
them with a wet rag and use a dry iron
instead. (I keep a spray bottle of water to
dampen large areas, but a wet rag or a slice of
sponge is easier to control.)
Pillow cases are an item that might be made by
someone who doesn't have a sewing machine —
an embroiderer or lacemaker might want to trim a
pillow case, and those that you can buy are either
poorly made, or extremely expensive — often
both! Since there is little stress on the seam in
a pillow case, you don't need to make the tiny
stitches of a patient and skilled seamster.
Prepare cloth as for machine stitching.
Use a water-erasable marker to draw a line one-half
inch from the edge, where I told you to sew by
machine.
Sew along this line with a running back
stitch. Choose a long, thin needle.
Begin by taking a few back stitches to anchor the
end of the thread.
Weave the needle in and out of the fabric as
many times as you conveniently can. You can
pleat the fabric on the needle to get more stitches
per pass, but it's best to do only what's easy the
first time you try it.
Weaving the needle through the fabric is the
"running" part. The "back stitch" part is
that each time you put the needle into the fabric,
instead of beginning one stitch length beyond where
you left off, you put the needle in one stitch
behind where it came up. This interrupts the
line of running stitches with an occasional back
stitch, which adds a bit of elasticity to the seam
to make the thread less likely to break. If
the thread does break, the seam will stop
unravelling when it gets to the next back stitch,
so you won't have as much repair work to do.
Keeping the fabric taut with a sewing bird
makes hand sewing easier to execute. See the
list of sewing tools.
Taut fabric is also easier to pin and
machine-stitch, but I use corsage pins to anchor
the fabric to the ironing board when I'm pinning,
and I have both hands to stretch the fabric with
when stitching by machine, so I don't use a bird
for these operations.
The hem can be blind stitched, or secured with
small, neat running stitches close to the
fold. Or baste near the fold to show you
where it is, and secure the hem with embroidery
worked from the right side.
If you hemstitch the hem, draw the threads
before sewing the side seam, so that the drawn
threads can match precisely at the seam.
Hemstitch after sewing the side seam, so that the
raw edges of the seam can be hidden inside the hem.
Consider sewing the hem with thread left from
making the lace.
The embellishment you have in mind may in
itself constitute a hem, and there are
lace-attachment methods which also finish the raw
edge of the linen.
Sometimes it happens that the sheets are a
bargain, but the matching pillowcases are
exorbitant. In this case, even someone who
doesn't ordinarily sew will consider buying an
extra flat sheet and making pillowcases.
Watch out for crooked hems; manufacturers no
longer tear cloth straight, but cut it off at
whatever angle happens. If you aren't sure
of a hem, tear it off or open it up. If you
want to salvage the hem (despite having the seam
allowances show at the edge), cut by a ruler, and
accept whatever angle the manufacturer did.
You're likely to get a pillowcase that twists on
your pillow, and won't fold along the seams, but it
beats wasting a whole sheet by tearing off a piece
that's a yard long on one side and twenty inches on
the other.
The most sensible thing to do with a factory
hem is to tear it off. If the hem is easy to
open, however, open it, wash the sheet, and then
tear off the unusable part. You can tear a
lot closer to the stitching if it isn't there.
If you tear lengthwise first, tearing the ends
straight will waste less fabric. Check where
the selvages are; very wide sheets use the fabric
crosswise. If the sheet is hemmed on the
sides, the sides are almost certain to be the ends
of your fabric.
Creases that are still in after the first
washing will never wash out, and the holes left
by stitching only get worse with wear.
But the extra inch gained by letting the old
stitching-holes show may mean that you get three
pairs instead of two. It's a judgement call,
and depends considerably on whether you want the
pillowcases to match the sheets because it looks
elegant, or because it simplifies sorting the
laundry.
Another way to get three pairs out of a sheet
that isn't quite three yards long is to add false
hems of a contrasting fabric. You might make
two pairs of cases from a printed sheet, and use
the left-over fabric to make false hems for three
pairs of cases made from a solid sheet.
False hems are a bit of work, so resort to them
only when the fabric is quite good, or when you
want to fancy up the cases.
Permanent-press fabric won't straighten, so
cut it by a ruler.
Synthetics and blends won't tear neatly, but
there is no point in sleeping on a synthetic sheet
if it isn't permanent press, so you'll be cutting
by a ruler anyway.
Fabric that is acceptable in a sheet may be
too irritating in a pillowcase. If the sheet
isn't 100% plant fiber, consider using the sheet
fabric to decorate a pillowcase made of softer
fabric.
The traditional size for a sheet was three
yards of 81" fabric. This allowed for
shrinkage of loom-state muslin, and it was
customary to fold a foot or two of sheet over the
blanket to keep it clean, so the modern sheet is
somewhat shorter. Beds are also much wider,
so it is likely that you'll have to buy fabric as
wide as the desired length, and use it
sideways. (You will note that narrow
factory-made sheets have the traditional woven-in
side edges, but Queen and wider are hemmed on all
four sides.)
If the widest-available fabric isn't quite
wide enough, put false hems that match your
pillowcases on both ends. Attach the hems
with long stitches, or a chain-stitch machine if
you have one — the hems get the least wear,
and can be used again on another sheet.
Another trick (and why didn't I think of this
a lot of ripping ago) is to tear the false hem off
with a generous seam allowance, and flat-fell it to
the new sheet. The second trip will probably
be its last, but if the hem is of an unusually
durable fabric, leave room for another seam
allowance between the flat fell and the hem.
Since the false hem is being attached to the
selvage, you can make a mock flat fell, which is
one layer thinner than the turned-under flat fell.
It was traditional to make one hem of a sheet
wider than the other, a vestige of the habit of
decorating the end that was to be folded down over
the blankets. If a sheet is not decorated,
make the hems match. A sheet will last
longer if it can be put on the bed with either end
at the top. (Not to mention that it's easier
to make the bed if you can't possibly put the sheet
on backward.)
Sheets are simple: tear a rectangle of
appropriate size and hem all raw edges. Half
an inch if the hems run down the sides, one or two
inches if they run across the ends, and four or
more if they are to be decorated.
Caveat: if the run down the sides and
selvages run across the ends, you are going to be
confused when you make the bed — unless all
your sheets are made from the same bolt, and the
person who made the sheets always makes the
beds. The ends of the sheets should be
hemmed even if they are good selvages, or cover the
selvages with false hems, or mark them in some
way. One suggestion: appliqué
a short piece of contrasting tape, with the ends
folded under to make points, in the middle of each
end. (This helps in centering the sheets
when the bed is made.)
Or turn the kids loose with fabric markers.
Notes:
If the selvage is a proper sheeting selvage, you
can turn the hem just once, since the edge is
finished. If the selvage is puckered or
lumpy, tear it off. If the selvage is
fringed, there may be a nylon edging thread you can
pull out to release it.
Ironing the edges of a sheet after its first
wash will go a long way toward preventing the
accordion-pleated effect. If you dry sheets
on a line, always check to make sure the hems and
selvages are flat.
If you have to dry sheets in a dryer, make up
your mind that the edges are supposed to be
pleated.
If you buy enough fabric to make several pairs
of sheets, you won't be able to get all of it into
the washer.
One way to deal with this is to wash a sample:
straighten one end and tear off exactly one yard,
or exactly two yards if a two-yard sample will be
easier to make into pillowcases.
Wash the sample thoroughly and measure it
again. Suppose, for example, that the sample
has shrunk to thirty-four inches. If the
rest of the piece shrinks the same way, you'll get
thirty-four inches for every yard you tear off.
Suppose you want the finished sheets to be
three yards wide. Three yards is 108
inches. Add two inches to allow for two
half-inch hems, making 110 inches. (You need
only an inch and a half, but half an inch in three
yards is too little to mess with.) According
to my handy dandy solar calculator, thirty-four
goes into a hundred and ten 3.2352 times.
Since the difference between 0.23 and 0.25 is too
little to worry about, tear off three and a quarter
yards for every sheet wanted.
Since things don't always work out so neatly,
note that I could have multiplied .2352 by 36 to
get 8.47, which would have told me that I needed
three yards plus eight or nine inches.
(And will you guys who think in metric quit
snickering?)
If you don't plan to do anything but hem the
ends, if the fabric doesn't stink, and if the
selvages on the sample haven't puckered or ruffled,
there's nothing wrong with making up the sheet
before washing it. The fabric will shrink
more than the thread, to be sure, but that
counteracts the tendency to pucker. (Do wash
before *using* the sheet.)
On the other hand, if the finishing left the
edges of the fabric stretched into dramatic waves,
if the sample did something astonishing in the
wash, if you plan to sew other fabrics to the
sheeting, or if you plan to miter corners in the
hems — I just sew narrow, flat hems in the
sides and treat them thereafter as selvages —
you will need to wash the fabric first.
It is convenient to tear off two sheets at a
time, if you have a large washer, and separate them
after washing.
If you are certain that the color won't bleed,
or if you won't mind if it does, soak the fabric
overnight before washing it.
When you are carrying your own bed linen, a
"sheet sack" weighs less than a pair of sheets and
a pillowcase. The official sheet sack has a
pocket to put a pillow in, but I like to hug my
pillow, and consider a separate pillow case well
worth the trifling weight.
Remember that a good night's sleep is
essential, and don't skimp on your bed linen in any
way that matters. Sheer nylon is very light
in weight, and quick to dry after washing —
but it's apt to be ugly after the threads have
slipped a little, and do you *really* want to sleep
on nylon? Some people don't mind, but if you
aren't one of them, don't use nylon for your sheet
sack.
You can, however, choose cotton fabric thinner
than you would consider durable enough for your
sheets at home — as long as you are sure that
it will last until the end of the trip. On a
long trip, extra weight is a bigger pain than on
shorter trips; if you can buy suitable fabric along
the way, you can use flimsy fabric and carry needle
and thread to make a new sack when the old one
wears out. On the other hand, equipment
wearing out when you are way out in the boonies is
a bigger hassle than it is on a short trip, and
failures seldom happen close to a shop that sells
replacements.
If you use the pattern below, it is important
that the fabric have good selvages which don't
pucker, ruffle, or fray. In any case, choose
a color you like to look at, and a fiber and weave
that you don't mind having pressed against your
skin. Consider how the fabric will look
after being washed in strange places by rough
methods. Undyed cotton was once the default
for bed linen, and it still has a lot to recommend
it.
If you are tall, consider buying more fabric
than suggested, and make the sack long enough to
let some hang off the foot of the bed. If
you are short, a smaller sack might do.
My favorite sheet sack is much simpler to make
than the official sack, and perfectly flat, like a
pillowcase, so that it's easy to pack.
Buy five yards of 45-inch fabric, wash,
straighten, hem the ends. Then fold it in
half with the *wrong* sides together, and sew up
the sides with basting stitches. Sew only
part of the way, and do *not* secure the ends of
the threads. You want the thread at the end
of the stitching to stretch out an inch or more,
forming a sort of gusset that prevents the fabric
from tearing under stress, but disappears when you
fold up the sack to pack it. Lay this sack
on the bed with the fold at the foot of the
mattress, then tuck one of the flaps at the top
under the mattress to hold the sack in place.
Put the blanket or blankets on the bed, then fold
the other flap over the blanket to keep the blanket
clean — and to protect yourself in case the
previous tenant of the bed was not so fastidious.
A bed can be made up very quickly this way,
but you should do it first thing when you check in,
and also lay out your pajamas so that you can find
them in the dark. When you come back from
supper, you may well find that other hikers are
already in bed and trying to sleep.
If you like having your pillow under your
sheet, make a pocket at one end, then follow the
instructions above. This makes a smaller
flap for covering the blanket than my version,
unless you make the ends unequal. One way is
to mark the center of the fabric before making the
pocket, then fold there to make the sack.
To make a pillow-pocket, hem the ends of the
fabric, then fold one end to a width adequate for a
pillow, and stitch parallel to each selvage,
leaving space adequate for a pillow between the
rows of stitching. Bar tack the end of each
row of stitching if the fabric is stout; leave the
ends of the stitching raw if the fabric is thin
— popped stitches are easier to repair than
torn fabric.
Make the bed by putting the pillow into the
pocket, then laying the sack on the bed with the
pillow where you want it, add blankets, and fold
back the flap.
If you aren't going to be gone long enough to
bother making a sheet sack, a flat double-bed sheet
can serve as both top and bottom sheet for most
bunks. Fold it crosswise and tuck the fold
under the mattress on the side next to the wall,
then tuck one of the free ends under the mattress
on the near side.
Fitted sheets are vastly over-rated, and make
it harder to make the bed neatly and keep it from
wrinkling.
&&
When stripping the bed, you may leave the
mattress pad in place if it doesn't need shaking,
but check to make sure that it hasn't shifted.
Throw the pillowcases and the bottom sheet
into the wash. If the weather hasn't been
particularly hot and the pets haven't been walking
on the bed, keep the top sheet to use as a bottom
sheet.
First, adjust or install the mattress pad.
If it is a fitted pad, put on one corner, then
walk around the bed to the diagonally-opposite
corner and put that one on. Go to the corner
farthest from the corner you have just tucked in
and put that one on, then install the remaining
corner.
If the bed is queen or king size, it is
unreasonably difficult to wash and dry a mattress
pad that big. Three old blankets make an
excellent mattress pad, and the blankets from the
double bed you just discarded will do nicely.
When the pad gets dusty, throw the top blanket into
the wash, shake the other two, and put a clean
blanket next to the mattress. In this way,
each blanket will get its turn in the washer, and
dirt is carried away from the mattress.
A quilted pad should be shaken occasionally,
to slow the accumulation of dust. When you
shake the pad, vacuum the mattress.
Next, put on the bottom sheet. Shake
the sheet out onto the bed, then adjust it so the
bottom hem lies along the edge of the mattress at
the foot. The middle of the hem should be in
the middle of the bed; there is usually a crease
from folding to mark this spot, but you can make a
permanent mark if you want to. Instinct will
tell you that it is neater to tuck the sheet in at
the foot, but it is almost impossible to make a
sheet perfectly smooth and tight with all four
edges tucked in, and the foot of the bed is the
only edge where it's convenient to leave the sheet
free.
After arranging the sheet on the bed, tuck it
under at the head. To "box" the corner of
the sheet, pull the part that's hanging down at the
sides out straight, continuing the plane of the top
of the mattress.
&&
If you should happen upon a great bargain in
dry-clean-only 100%-wool fabric, you can make your
own blankets. I like my home-made blankets
better than my store-bought blankets because they
are thinner, so that it's easier to adjust the
degree of warmth. And because they are pure
wool, I don't need so much weight and thickness on
top of me to keep warm.
Almost any all-wool fabric will turn into
blanketing when washed in hot water, but those
marked "dry clean only" will shrink the most.
It helps to crowd the washer, to encourage
felting. (In other words, do all the things
you are careful not to do when laundering the
finished product. Except bleach! Bleach
dissolves wool, but does not encourage felting.)
Dyes meant to be dry cleaned are apt to bleed
when wet. Since the finished blankets will
be washed separately anyhow, this is not a problem
— but it's something to consider when you are
trying to crowd the washer. Don't put in
items that will be spoiled if the dye runs —
and don't put in items that will shed lint onto
your wool.
Most dry-clean-only wools are sixty inches
wide, which is a good width for single-bed
blankets, so you need only tear them to the desired
length and hem or bind the ends. I have yet
to find a wool fabric in which the selvage shrank
differently from the rest of the fabric, but there
is always a first time.
In making single-bed blankets, it is best to
shrink the fabric before making it up, so that you
can tell how long the blanket is going to be.
Nonetheless, make it the longest of the acceptable
lengths, especially if it's on a child's bed, or if
it will be washed frequently for some other
reason. Unlike plant fibers, which merely
spring back from having been stretched during
manufacture, wool honestly shrinks, and it will
continue to shrink until the fibers are packed as
closely as possible. Wool shrinkage requires
both water and agitation, and (like most reactions)
it happens faster at higher temperatures, so
shrinkage is easily avoided by washing in cold
water and being careful not to rub. But if a
blanket gets thrown up on frequently, you are not
going to fuss much about how you wash it, except
for getting it into the washer before the stains
can set or mildew, so allow for a little shrinkage.
Shrinking wool makes it stretchy, like a knit,
and hard to measure, so it's better to do any
piecing required before washing the fabric.
If the fabric is sewn only to itself, and if the
grain is matched, it will shrink the same on both
sides of the seam. Making up before washing
also helps you to avoid seams that pucker.
Making up when you don't know how much it's
going to shrink feels a bit rash, but when one is
using bargain wools, one tends to use the entire
piece and accept whatever size happens, so this
isn't as much of a problem as at first
appears. (But measure everything before and
after, so you'll get an idea of how much extra
fabric to buy next time.)
To make a wide blanket from 60" fabric, buy a
length one and a half times the desired width, plus
allowance for shrinking. Tear the ends
straight, if the fabric wasn't torn off the
bolt. If it has woven-in stripes, you can
cut the fabric straight, but drawing threads in
wool isn't usually a serious option.
Measure off one third of the fabric.
Move the mark a quarter inch toward the longer end,
then tear the fabric into one long piece and one
short one.
Not making any allowance for a seam will make
the pieced piece half an inch shorter than the
longer piece. Taking a quarter inch off the
long piece and adding it to the short piece will
make the long piece a quarter inch shorter than the
pieced piece, but a quarter inch is less than the
uncertainty in measuring a long piece of stretchy
fabric, making the cut come out precisely right
calls for calculus, and I never did quite
understand calculus.
Tear the short piece in half lengthwise,
overlap the ends half an inch, and zig-zag down the
middle, guiding on one torn edge. Use a long
stitch and your widest zig-zag. (Well, up to
a quarter of an inch, anyway.)
Check the other side to make sure the other
torn edge also remains a uniform distance from the
stitching. If the fabrics have slipped
during stitching, pick out the stitches that are
too far or too close, and re-stitch those
sections. Conceal ends by threading them
into a needle and hiding them between layers.
Sometimes you can hide an end by sticking the blunt
end of a needle between the layers to catch a
thread and pull it through. The ends of the
old stitching can be concealed, before you put in
the new stitching, by separating the layers and
pulling the threads from both sides in.
Once you get the seam firmly held in the
proper position, zig-zag over both of the torn
edges. You may or may not want to shorten
the stitch length, but don't satin-stitch; give the
threads a chance to hide in the fuzz.
Draw a chalk line half an inch from one
selvage on the longer piece. Choose the
worse selvage if the selvages don't match.
Mark the middle of the selvage. Pin the torn
edge of the pieced piece to the selvage, matching
the seam to the middle. Since torn edges
stretch more than selvages, you will have to ease
it on. It may help to mark both pieces into
quarters or eighths first.
Make another lap seam like that joining the
pieced piece, and finish the ends as desired.
Simply turning under a half inch and
zig-zagging over the torn edge works very
well. It may be easier to stitch the edge
down if you first flatten the hem with a row of
permanent basting guided on the fold — the
basting should also be zig-zag, since zig-zag
stretches more than straight stitch, and on fuzzy
fabric, it shows less.
If you want to bind the blanket with silk or
satin, wash it very thoroughly first. If you
hem the edge, you can wash the blanket gently from
the beginning. It is a very good idea to
wash it before using, since the chemicals used in
dying and finishing might be irritating, and
because washing the fabric will cause it to fluff
up and become warmer.
If appearance is of no concern, don't finish
the edges at all; wool has little inclination to
ravel, and thoroughly felted wool has none at all.
Wool will absorb more water than any other
natural fiber, but it is hard to get it wet, so it
isn't particularly good at mopping up. In
addition, wool shrinks and felts when agitated in
hot water, dissolves in household bleach, and
decomposes in alkalis. You might consider an
animal-fiber cloth for use with acid cleaning
agents, but it is more common to use disposable
rags or paper.
Most of the commonly-available synthetic
fibers are water repellent.
That leaves plant fibers. Bast fibers
absorb faster than seed-hair fibers, but tend to be
more expensive, so most towels are made of
cotton. Some linen fabrics are made
especially for making kitchen towels. Linen
crash was formerly much used for hand towels,
because it dries quickly and doesn't stain
easily. Lint-free "lens cloth" is
linen. Many other kinds of linen —
particularly those in which the fibers have been
chopped short enough to spin on machinery designed
for cotton — remind you emphatically that
"lint" has the same root as "linen".
Bath towels are made on the loom, then they
are separated and the cuts hemmed or fringed.
You aren't likely to make bath towels at home
unless you want something unusual, such as a
flannelette bath sheet.
One towel you almost have to make at home is
the Youth Hostel towel. When you are
travelling light and carrying your own linens, you
want a very thin towel, so that it will dry quickly
after use — and so that it will cover a lot
of territory for its weight when you are surprised
in the shower. Most of the fabrics suggested
for dish towels make good Youth-Hostel towels.
A yard of sixty-inch checkered damask with
dish-towel hems on the sides makes a good towel,
and it can double as a light shawl. If you
want two, split two yards lengthwise into two
thirty-inch by two-yard pieces, and hem all four
edges.
Or make a shawl or sarong of a washable,
absorbent fabric that you won't mind using as a
bath towel in a pinch.
At the very least, you should have a washrag
or bandanna in your luggage. You can dry
yourself all over with a washrag, if you stop to
wring it out fairly often. A washrag won't
blot your hair dry, but you can squeegee it enough
to stop it dripping.
The original idea of the guest towel was to
save laundry by not letting each guest dirty a
full-size hand towel. Alas, the natural urge
to make things "nice" for guests led to guest
towels so ornate that guests refuse to use them.
When you are expecting guests, put something
rumpled that obviously isn't anybody's personal
towel in the bathroom. It might be well to
hide all the personal towels!
If you want each guest to take a fresh towel,
put out a generous heap of guest towels — and
a conspicuous used-towel basket that has a few used
towels already in it.
Or hang up a roll of paper towels.
During the Depression, people cut up old
towels to make wash cloths, often finishing the
edges with embroidery or crochet. This sort
of economy isn't apt to appeal to you unless you
already have an overlock machine for some other
purpose.
Don't try to make your washcloths match your
towels. Washcloths wear so much faster than
towels that it's just not going to happen, unless
you buy half a dozen "face cloths" for every
towel. Perhaps you'll have a few matching
sets to make it easier for guests to remember which
towels are theirs, but make your main supply plain
washrags of neutral colors — not necessarily
black, gray, and white, but rather colors that
don't clash with anything else you are likely to
put into the bath. For example, royal blue
can be "neutral" for this purpose if none of your
towels are pale blue or navy. Since colors
change with harsh washing, don't choose colors that
you have to see together before you can be sure
that they don't make each other look dirty.
You can make guest sets wear more evenly by
putting the towels out for family while reserving
the washrags for guests.
Wash rags are usually about twelve inches
square. A man may want a bigger rag if he
uses it to steam his face before shaving; it is
usually satisfactory to make the cloth longer
without making it wider — "fingertip" towels
make good man-sized washrags.
If a rag is to be washed after every use
— when changing diapers, for example —
six inches or eight inches square is big
enough.
A twelve-inch washrag that has worn thin in
the middle can be cut into four baby wipes, each
with a thin corner.
You will probably want to finish the edges
— here's one way to do it:
First, select a thread that you have
altogether too much of. If you haven't got a
backlog of mistakes, use a cheap basting
thread. If you have an assortment of left-
overs, choose a cotton thread of light color.
Then mark cutting lines on the cloth —
if none of your marking tools work on terrycloth,
use a ball-point pen; it doesn't matter that it
won't wash out. Zig-zag near the cutting
line, just far enough away that you aren't worried
about cutting the stitching. At the end,
stop with the needle down on the side away from the
cutting line, pivot, and stitch back just inside
the first row of stitching. It doesn't
matter whether or not this row of stitching
overlaps the first row, as long as it doesn't cover
the first row entirely, or wander too far away from
it.
At the far end, pivot, stitch across the
cutting line, pivot again, and repeat on the other
side of the cutting line. If the edge of the
rag is in good condition, break the threads and
repeat for the other cutting line. If the
stitching of the washrag has worn away, stitch near
the edge to the other cutting line, stitch it, then
continue all around the rag.
If the thread is cotton, if you are serious
about wanting to get rid of it, and if you need the
practice, you may zig-zag back and forth over any
small holes before cutting the rag apart.
Don't fringe a towel that you are going to use
near the stove, as fringes catch fire very
easily. See "Hems for Dish Towels" in Edge Finishes.
A fabric for dish towels must be absorbent, it
must withstand hot water and bleach, and it
shouldn't leave lint on your glasses. There
are many special towel fabrics, but few are
available by the yard.
Terrycloth is less popular in the kitchen than
it is in the bath.
The linen fabric made especially for making
dish towels may be called "toweling", "crash", or
"crash toweling".
Birdseye diaper fabric makes excellent
towels. (I think that babies' breechclouts
were named "diapers" after this fabric.)
A lot of fuss is made about "floursack"
towels. They are good, but I don't think
them worth a premium price.
Table linens made entirely of plant fiber
usually make good dish towels when they have been
washed a few hundred times.
Checkered damask makes a cheerful kitchen
towel, and most cotton damasks are absorbent.
If you see reject kitchen towels offered at a
bargain rate, take a close look — if you
happen to be the first customer who does so, you
are apt to find several which have nothing wrong
with them except that they are dirty, and you would
have washed them before use anyway.
Table linens, scarves, and handkerchiefs are
easy: buy suitable fabric, cut or tear to desired
size and shape, finish edges.
If a fabric has good selvages — and
fabric especially woven to make tablecloths
*should* have good selvages — you can make a
length of cloth into a tablecloth just by
straightening the ends and hemming them.
The usual rule is that a piece of fabric
should have selvages on both edges or selvages on
no edges: Selvages on the tablecloth, but not on
the napkins; ribbons or tapes for apron ties, but
not a strip cut off the edge of the fabric and
hemmed on one side only.
But if a handkerchief is for "blow, not show",
if the apron is for stopping grease and you don't
care how it looks, it's a waste of time to cut off
a good selvage and replace it with a hem.
On the third hand, dirty work is depressing
enough without using ugly tools.
On the fourth hand, good selvages are getting
so rare that it is a sin to waste one.
Put mind in gear & decide what suits your
taste and situation.
A square of fabric used to wrap or carry
things. See "Handkerchiefs" and "leaf
carriers" in this section. A handkerchief or
bandanna can be used for a furoshiki, or one can
hem a square of any cloth that looks good on both
sides. A furoshiki is a tempting target for
recreational decoration, but reflect, first, on how
the decoration will look when the furoshiki is in
use. It's depressing to do a beautiful job
of patchwork only to discover that the only way you
can see it is to take everything out of your
knitting bag and turn it upside down.
Consider making furoshikis that can double as
handkerchiefs, scarves, shawls, beach wraps, etc.
Paper handkerchiefs are much more sanitary,
but if someone in your family has chronic breathing
problems, an ample supply of well-worn soft
handkerchiefs may be a necessity. Also,
handkerchiefs serve many other purposes: it's a
good idea to carry a large cloth handkerchief or a
small furoshiki to use as a towel when paper isn't
supplied, to use as a washcloth, to tie up small
objects when one has forgotten to bring a bag, and
on and on.
If someone is using vast numbers of cloth
handkerchiefs because paper handkerchiefs are
flimsy, consider buying him a roll of premium-grade
paper towels or a package of cheap table
napkins. If possible, collect disposable
handkerchiefs in a paper sack, and burn them sack
and all.
The best "blow" handkerchiefs are salvaged
from cloth that has worn out in other service,
because fabric that has been washed many times is
softer and more absorbent. Fine linen makes
the best handkerchiefs, but cotton is much easier
to come by. White is the default color,
because it stands up to harsh washing and
bleach. Loosely-spun fabric from the
outdated mule-spinning mills in India is best for
making handkerchiefs — some modern cottons
can wear out completely without ever getting soft.
If you want a handkerchief to be square after
washing, wash the fabric thoroughly before
cutting. If you don't mind a change in
shape, you can hem handkerchiefs first and wash
them afterward.
It is good to have things either exactly
square or obviously oblong, so that you don't have
to worry about which way to fold them on wash
day. When you make a great many
handkerchiefs for daily use, it is better to make
them identical, for an easier washday and neater
storage — and so that someone who grabs
hastily to catch a sneeze won't be surprised.
Ladies "show" handkerchiefs are usually only
eleven inches square, and I've seen them as small
as six inches. A lady may carry a not-too-
precious show handkerchief for use, but the more
practical carry a full-sized man's handkerchief,
sixteen or seventeen inches square. (I once
saw an advertisement for a very practical fifteen-
inch embroidered handkerchief.)
A bandanna is twenty inches to two feet across
— I make mine twenty-two inches, as the
available fabric is forty-five inches wide.
A two-foot-square bandanna can be used as a
skimpy head scarf in unexpected weather. A
full-time head scarf of wool or silk should be at
least a yard square. Neck scarves are
usually long and narrow.
Sixteen inches square is about right for a
handkerchief stuffed into a bra in hot
weather. Any edge finish at all on
handkerchiefs made for this purpose will mark your
skin, so tear squares out of worn-out bed linen,
and let it go at that. The cotton will be
slightly felted from much wear, which will inhibit
ravelling, and the tearing will leave a slight
fringe, which further inhibits ravels. Newer
fabrics, between being less felted and lasting
longer, are apt to develop a fringe around the
edges, but that only makes them look more finished,
and does not harm the function.
When ready to use a bra handkerchief, fold it
into a "cravat bandage" — fold it
corner-to-corner, not quite in half, so that the
edges don't match. Bring the point up to the
middle of the fold, then fold parallel to these
folds until you have a narrow strip that is pointed
on the ends and thicker in the middle. Fold
this strip in half and push the middle of the fold
up under the bra band between your breasts.
Tuck the trailing ends under the band, one to the
left and one to the right. The ends anchor
the handkerchief to keep it from popping out
through your neckline at embarrassing moments, and
also provide some protection from sweaty
elastic. If you use these handkerchiefs
conscientiously, and change them frequently, you'll
be much less likely to develop prickly heat.
(All-linen bras are an even better idea.)
The paragraph above illustrates why computer
programs bloat and complicate without limit.
I knew how to make a cravat out of a triangle, so
without thinking, I folded the square into a
triangle to reduce it to a previously-solved
problem.
Eventually I realized that when folding a square --
or a rectangle -- that it is easier to fold two
opposite corners in, then fold the resulting
hexagon. And one should watch the edges,
not the points; keep edges that aren't parallel at
right angles to each other.
Eight inches square is a good size for
spectacle-cleaning rags. If made of shirting
-- preferably linen or cotton-and-linen -- that's
plenty big enough, and an eight-inch square folds
to fit a pocket meant for a man's sixteen-inch
handkerchief. I mark out spectacle rags with
drawn threads, then zig-zag the edges before
cutting them apart.
Men's show handkerchiefs are called "pocket
squares", and lack the ornamentation characteristic
of ladies' show handkerchiefs. They may be
obviously fake, and sometimes consist of a couple
of corners stapled to a card, whereas it is always
at least theoretically possible to use a lady's
handkerchief. If pocket squares are
overlocked instead of hemmed, the thread must match
perfectly. (All this varies with fashion, of
course.)
See "handkerchief hem" in Edge Finishes.
A linen sarong is a good idea for travel
— it packs perfectly flat, and fills in for a
towel, a skirt, a dress, a blouse, a beach wrap, a
bath robe, and many other things that you didn't
think you were going to need.
Fabric for a sarong should be soft and thin:
almost sheer, with a busy-enough print to block the
view. Linen is best, but cotton is cheaper
and easier to find.
I have seen ads for sarongs everywhere from
44" x 62" to 60" by 84", but 45" x 72" seems to be
canonical. I find a 66" sarong just barely
long enough to wrap around my back, cross in front,
and tie behind my neck.
Ordinarily, bandages are not hemmed, but
triangular bandages subjected to heavy use in
first-aid classes may have finished edges.
Scarves, neckerchiefs, etc. may be designed to
double as triangular bandages in an emergency.
A triangle bandage makes a good head scarf, as
it is easier to knot than a square scarf folded to
the same size, and it is rather difficult to wrap
the tails of a square scarf around your neck.
On the other hand, the triangle is only half as
thick as a square cut from the same fabric.
Since a triangular bandage is four inches
larger than a standard square head scarf, you may
wish to fold a wide cuff at the diagonal edge
before tying it on. This also makes it
behave more like a square scarf.
Use a handkerchief hem to finish triangular
scarves. See "Edge
Finishes".
There is more information about making
bandages in the section on mending sheets, and the
section on bias tape tells how to get a 40"
triangular bandage out of 39" fabric.
For home use, "roller" bandages are torn as
required from a piece of thoroughly-clean bed linen
kept in the rag drawer. For donation to
charity, lengthwise strips are torn from old
sheets, sewn end-to-end, and tightly rolled.
The charity will tell you how long and wide to make
them. It is usually easier to roll them by
hand than to use the gadget supplied.
If you don't know what I'm talking about here,
take a Red Cross First Aid course. Then take
the advanced course. If you get a chance,
take the introductory course taught to ambulance
riders. (There were some shocking
photographs in my "first-responder" course —
but the most shocking thing about the course was
that I'd been allowed to think that I had a high-
school education when I didn't know any of this
very important and extremely elementary
stuff. I should have gotten about half of it
in grammar school!)
Flat shopping and knitting bags
Bed Linens
Pillowcases
Preparing fabric to make pillowcases
Hand-seaming pillow cases
Hand-hemming pillow cases
Making pillowcases from sheets
Preparing fabric to make sheets
Fitted sheets
How to make a bed
Towels, Washrags, Mopping Cloths
Fabrics for Dish Towels
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