Radical Christmas Tree Alternative: Bunting Flags

We're going to be "that" family. The family that has an alternative Christmas tree. Post-last-Christmas season, I shared the crazy that goes down in our house with the arrival of a Christmas tree. To sum up: a small disaster. So for this year, I decided to re-think the whole situation and try something new.

Enter the idea of bunting flags. (For those not into crafting/sewing trends, these are strings of flags of the type that I associate with used car lots, and nicer versions of these are remarkably hot right now as whimsical decor.) I still wanted greenery, and opted to combine the flags with a cedar garland.

I had hoped to add lights and ornaments (this was in lieu of a tree, after all), but given the December we had I got Realistic and decided they could wait for next year.

If you'd like to DIY, here's my method for Bunting Flags:

1. Make a template of the size flag desired including a 1/4-inch seam allowance. Mine was approximately 12 inches long x 6 inches wide at the top.

2. Using the template, cut out a selection of flags, two pieces for each finished flag you want. (I did wash and iron my fabric prior, just in case I ever need to launder our flags. Weird stuff happens in our house.)

TIP: Using a rotary cutter with a long acrylic ruler and cutting mat really makes this step go quickly.

I got fancy with some and combined different fabrics.

3. If the flags will be hung in a doorway or window, you may want to add a liner piece to any light-coloured patterned flags so that the pattern from one side doesn't show through on the other side. I simply cut plain white pieces from an old sheet using the same flag template.

4. With right sides of the fabric (i.e. patterned sides) together, join two flag pieces by sewing along the two long sides. If including a liner piece, just add it on top of one of the flag pieces before sewing and stitch all three layers at one time.

TIP: At the "V" where the two side seams meet, sew one stitch straight across instead of making a point. Oddly, this makes it easier to produce a sharp point when you turn the flag right-side out.

5. Trim the seam allowance close to the seam near the point. Then turn the sewn flag right-side out. (I used a wooden skewer to gently prod the narrow end into a point.) Press.

6. Repeat the above steps until you have enough flags for your desired length. Using double-folded bias tape (available at a sewing supply store), insert the flag tops into the centre of the folded tape and sew close along the bottom edge of the tape.

7. Hang and enjoy!

Did you re-imagine any of your Christmas traditions this year?

Making a Mudroom

A couple of years ago now, we had stairs and an entrance made from our yard into the basement. Like many of you who live in urban centres, we have little front hall to speak of (i.e. if there are more than three coats on the coat hooks, you can't open the door) and our back door opens directly into the kitchen. And although we only had three children at the time, we could see that a plethora of outerwear would soon swamp either area.


I had always envisioned the wall just inside our new basement entrance as a "mudroom" --a place for all the coats and jackets, boots and shoes, hats, scarves and mitts to come to rest. Organized. Out of sight. And not spilling out into the middle of the kitchen floor!


Between conception to execution there was a lot of long-suffering on the part of my in-laws and partner (as is often the case with my "visions"). I'm a scavenger. If something out at the curb catches my eye, I grab it and figure out later if I can use it. And later can be years down the road, during which time the scavenged item is stored at my in-laws. And when I say that "I grab it," what I mean is that I call my partner, give him the location and have him pick it up. Yes, long-suffering indeed.

The bench, painted and ready for action.

Regarding the "mudroom," my scavenging resulted in... well, something that looks like a bench. Hey, it was solid wood (heavy as sin) and just needed a little work. No problem. 


Two years later, a thorough sanding and a couple of coats of Benjamin Moore's Aura paint have given somebody's trash a glorious new life as our bench. (Sorry there are no "before" photos; I wasn't that organized. And I know it looks like I'm plugging a product, but I'll explain my reasons for choosing such a paint in another post...)

They hold everything!

But my new "favourite item" in our house are the hooks. As soon as I laid eyes on them in the Lee Valley hardware catalogue, I knew they were the ones. And they are super. Super-super-duper. Three prongs (for all that stuff) and strong enough to eventually hold backpacks full of books and whatnot. Best yet, they look cool. Love 'em.


I got six of them, one for each member of the family. Now everyone has his own spot to hang his stuff (notice the masculine pronouns there --my things seem to have no trouble staying organized). Even the dog will have her own hook (as soon as I get around to that). 

Ta-da!

A future project (hopefully not two years in the making) is to build some boxes and mount them above the hooks for storage... I'll keep you posted.

Realistic Sewing Project: Shorten Drapes

Ah, my bedroom drapes. I remember when I first put them up how pleased I was that they were a bit long and therefore "pooled" on the floor, just like in the homes in the design magazines.

Why I will never have silk drapes, so long as there are cats

Apparently none of these homes has cats.


A few years later the crib came to rest in our room. This required placing our bed against the window wall. Now my pooling drapes were subject to the ignominy of being tied into a knot so that they wouldn't lie, resplendent-like, across my partner's face as he slept.


The bigger issue for me was that in their knotted state the drapes wouldn't close. And while I like to think of myself as a sharing kind of person, the neighbours started to drop subtle hints that they weren't enjoying the view.


In shortening the drapes, I figured, both the issues of appearance and length would be addressed. On the night that I chose to undertake this task, my pre-schooler was sick with a virus and planted in my bed with a video, and my under-one was protesting his being dumped in his highchair to watch mummy in action. (Our two toddlers were on their way home from the grandparents'.)

Baby helping mummy with the measuring tape

Knowing that my sewing session was under threat of interruption at any second, I quickly measured the new length with my measuring tape while holding the drape with both hands and marked it with a pin. No time for laying it out on the sewing board! I folded the panel in half lengthwise, grabbed the scissors and, with a prayer heavenward, cut what I hoped was a reasonably straight line.



Having already committed several cardinal sins against the art of sewing, I jumped recklessly to the foot peddle and began stitching, making the fold and turning under the hem as the needle punctured the fabric. By this time, the baby was mewling at a constant rate, and the four-year-old calling at 30 second intervals for me to come upstairs. I felt the pressure of a sprinter dashing to the finish line with moaning, squealing ghouls nipping at my heels.

Big fold of fabric? No problem, it's on the back side!

In my mad haste, the otherwise-forgiving loose-weave fabric did not lie flat as it went through the machine. By the time I got close to the end, the hem was sufficiently askew that there was significantly more length left for the top layer than for the bottom. I was faced with the choice of either ripping out the seam I had just made and trying again, or "absorbing" the excess and artificially forcing the top and bottom to end evenly. As I'm sure you've already deduced, I chose option 2, wadded up the extra length and sewed right over it.  

The task finally completed, I yelled towards the second floor to just wait I'm almost done, and picked up my bawling tot. The second panel would have to wait for another golden opportunity.

The finished product, back in place. Not too bad, eh?