A store that sells fabric is a palace of luxurious textures, sumptuous colors, a wealth of cotton, linen, wool and synthetics with names such as batiste, corduroy, gauze, satin, lace, chiffon, pique, flannel, fleece, kettle cloth, tweed, plaid, taffeta, brocade and eyelet.

When I shop for fabric, my basic technique is the same. I need both hands for touching the fabric to assess its texture and weave. I need my eyes for drinking in the spectrum of hues colorful as jewels – turquoise, aquamarine, sapphire, peridot, emerald, topaz, ruby, onyx and amethyst. Usually, the colors aren’t named, and that leaves my mind intent on finding the right words to describe what I am seeing. Is that pomegranate red or is it raspberry? Is it spruce green or fir?

I am especially fond of printed fabric dotted with stars or flowers. I also like batiks and prints that recall the 1930s.

I like to wander the aisles for at least 15 minutes before I home in on any one bolt. Then I conduct the touch test by taking the fabric between thumb and index finger to assess its “feel.” Touching a fabric tells me a lot about it – how tightly it’s woven, whether it will be comfortable on my skin, its weight and its draping qualities. I look at it closely to see whether the print is evenly applied and surface decoration is securely applied. I hold it up to the light to check for flaws in the weave. I look at the grain of the fabric to see whether it’s straight and even. I let a yard or so dangle off the bolt and hold it in midair to see how it looks at arm’s length. I look at the cut edge to see how much it ravels. If possible, I take the bolt to a window where I can see it in natural light. Sometimes, under fluorescent light, the color reads differently from in natural light.

The first thing I do before shopping for fabric is to look at the back of the pattern to see what kind of fabric is recommended. I usually go with what is suggested. Substituting a knit where a woven fabric is recommended is not a good idea – it’s the road to the Land of Sewing Regret. Which is not to say that I haven’t been there many a time in my more than 40 years of sewing.

Those new to sewing are advised that sewing with a plaid fabric is tricky because of the matching it requires. It’s wiser to go with a print or a plain fabric for those first few projects.

I jot down the amount of fabric the pattern recommends, note what the pattern requires for buttons, the zipper length and other notions needed. Buying all of the supplies needed at one time saves a lot of running around and ensures that everything will match.

It’s best to shop for fabric when you have plenty time to linger, look at and touch the cloth. That way you won’t make hasty decisions you will regret the moment you get the yardage home. Bear in mind that most fabric departments and stores will not accept the return of cut fabric.

The best asset I have when I sew is a room with strong southern light, but other than that I have no special equipment. I cut out the fabric on my kitchen table. My sewing machine is older than both my sons. Same for my dressmaking and pinking shears. When I trim the seams after stitching, I throw the snippets on the floor and sweep them up when I have finished my sewing stint.

When I sew, I adhere, more or less, to the Bishop Method of Clothing Construction, which I learned from home economics teacher Betty Calkins in the 1962-63 school year. Each section of the garment is treated as a unit and finished as much as possible before moving on to the next section. For example, after the front and back of a blouse have been worked on, the sections are sewed together at the shoulders, the sleeves are sewn in and the underarm seams sewn.

“The Bishop Method of Clothing Construction” by Edna Bryte Bishop, published in 1959, is still available from online used-book stores.

Snippets

Visit www.silk-ribbon-embroidery.com to find free instructions for ribbon embroidery projects.

Call Ardeana Hamlin at 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.