Bunad

We were so privileged as to be invited to a beautiful christening last weekend. Even though I am not personally believing in an omnipotent god, I still feel there is something sacred about welcoming a new child into this world. I also love the fact that it gave me an occasion to wear my Bunad - my Norwegian national costume.

The Bunad's origin lies in the national romantic movement in the 19th century, but most of the Bunads you see today were designed in the 20th century based on rural clothes worn in the 18th century. In Norway the Bunad is considered formal clothes and you wear it at big occasions like weddings, christenings and our national holiday on May 17th.

The big children's parade in Oslo on the Norwegian National Holiday.
Photo by Morten Johnsen.

The design of the Bunads vary from place to place. My Bunad is from the lower part of Buskerud, the county my mother's family is from. All the embroideries are done by my grandmother.

There is love in every stitch. 

I am so impressed with the handwork put into it. A professional seamstress did the montage of the dress. The hand sewn stitches are so even!

This is something I will never have the patience to do. 

I got my Bunad for my confirmation when I was 15. Luckily it was made with the intention of being something I can wear for a long time, so there were a certain amount of extra fabric left around the waist and in the torso of the dress, because let's face it - my body today at 29 is not the same as it was at 15.

This is me a few years ago. 

Even though I only get to wear it a couple of times a year, I think my Bunad is my absolute favorite piece of clothing. The fact that my grandmother embroidered it and that it will probably last longer than my life time makes it even more precious.

Do you have a piece of clothing or something else precious to you for the same reasons?

Make-do and Mend: Torn jeans

Inspired by the mended doily I bought in London this summer, thought I decided to do something I haven't done in a long time.

Growing up, I wore jeans every single day. Mending my jeans was among the first things I learned how to do on a sewing machine. Today I barely own a pair of jeans. The pair I own, I wear so rarely that I don't think I'll ever need to mend them. My husband, however, has a couple of jeans that has been laying around for a while just waiting for me to be inspired enough to fix them. 

You need a pair of jeans in need of mending, some jeans fabric you can use for the mending
 (I bought a pair of jeans for NOK25/$4 at a second had store that I cut fabric swatches from)
and some blue thread that more or less matches the blue color of the jeans.

Pin some of the jeans fabric on the inside of the torn jeans.

I own exactly 3 sewing pins, but that's all what's needed. 

Then just go crazy with the zigzag seam on your sewing machine. 

I don't know if zigzagging is the technical term, but that is what I am doing along the frayed edge. 

The zigzagging I do from the outside of the jeans, and when I'm done I cut off any excess fabric on the inside.

No, this is not the neat backside of my grandmother's embroideries. 

This does require a sewing machine, but it doesn't require much skill when it comes to using it. The results will always be good unless something is wrong with the machine. The best results are of course in the crouch of the jeans, it can practically not be seen that you've mended them, but I also fixed the frayed leg hem on a pair of jeans.

I'm pretty happy with the result. It can barely be seen when the jeans is worn. 

My husband is happy, he now can wear his favorite pair of jeans outside the house again.

Do you have a tip for clothes or other things that you mend instead of throwing it away? 

Small work in progress

I am not a particularly creative person, but I do like to create. This manifests itself generally as an interest in cooking, a basic knowledge in how to use a sewing machine, and occasional waves of need for crocheting or knitting. This time the trigger was my husband's uttering of a wish for kind of a cardigan.

This is the jacket my husband wants. 

I love this greyish blue color and the softness of the wool-cotton mix. And I love how the bamboo needles don't make any sound when I knit!

The needles are so quiet, I just call them my ninja needles. 

The start of my knitting project coincided with a wonderful warm weekend, so most of my Saturday was spent relaxing with my ninja needles, the soft-as-baby's-butt-yarn, and a glass of wine. 

While knitting I could rest my eyes on the best view in the world - my husband! 

Since I don't know any vocabulary for knitting in English, I don't know what to call the pattern or style of knitting that this jacket calls for, but I like it because it feels very light and airy, not so dense as your standard wool sweater usually is. 

I might fight my husband for it after I've finished it. 

What are you creating at the moment?

Make-do and Mend

I spent a few, intense days in London this summer. 3 days filled with sightseeing and a little bit of shopping. Among others, I visited Churchill War Rooms. The place is like frozen in time - the rooms look the same as they did when the war ended in 1945.

I bought this poster in their excellent museum shop. Clothing rationing was introduced in June 1941 in Britain, and this was part of a campaign to offer innovative ways of making the best of people's clothes. 

I do my fair share of shopping (with a special weakness for shoes), but there is something very appealing with the re-use and mending of old items. Which made me totally fall in love with this little doily I found at the market in Covent Garden. 

You never see this any more! Someone carefully mended this little doily instead of throwing it away. I wonder who this person was, but I imagine that after making the beautiful laces around the doily, the owner did not want to throw away the doily. 

I have no idea yet as to what to do with the little doily, so if anyone has a suggestion, I am open minded!