… for curtains
The sheers, to be pretentious, or the nets to be accurate. Anyway, living in a terrace house rather close to our neighbours opposite we finally decided to join the net curtain twitcher brigade.
I bought some extremely expensive French stuff, around £50 a drop (there were five drops) and promptly made them up. Not so cleverly, I didn’t wash them first so they shrunk. Oops. They had a rather nice swirly design and matched the pattern on the main curtains.
Here are a couple acting as a fly screen at the finca.
Next I bought some rather nice Sanderson ones for the bedroom. A very tiny fine dot design. I made five or six drops. Even more expensive than the French swirl ones.
Newly installed in Gib they lasted nicely. I’ve washed them a few times. This week we decided to get rid of the mould and damp spores in the flat and that included washing the black, previously cream, net curtains.
I put them on the special curtain wash today. I think that was a mistake
I put the main curtain on the wash too. That survived. Phew. That was seriously expensive fabric.
With my aspirations and my partner’s desire for overspecification, I had bought the fabric for the sitting room in our fairly small 1930s terrace house. It had white walls so some rather striking curtains provided the colour and impact.
The carpet was cream – went well with two black-haired dogs (!) – and the sofas were a sort of stripey blue. Um, not too good a match there, but we both liked the curtain fabric which was a plus.
I don’t like curtains that finish in the middle of the wall, somewhere below the window. I like nice opulent curtains with lots of volume, draping on the floor (puddling I think it was called at the time), and that = lots of money.
I think the fabric was around £700 some however many years ago, say at least 15.
Out of interest I asked about having them made up for me, with no intention of that, as I figured I could do a better job. I did.
I calculated the fabric needed, and the lining. I tend to allow some spare just in case I stuff up on the cutting. It’s pretty much like hanging wallpaper. You need to position the pattern correctly so you don’t cut through the main feature at the top. It needs to be slightly down from the curtain rail.
Join extremely large pieces together using sewing machine. Do same with lining. Hand stitch hems and mitre corners. Looking good.
Then lay curtains out on bedroom floor, because as usual, there is no bed, which helps for needing a large surface area for making curtains. Pin linings to curtain every 12 inches or so. Tack lining to curtain. Then, taking tiny prick stitches, sew lining to curtain down the same line. Finally sew lining to curtain at edges and hem. No-one ever does this commercially. It is seriously time-consuming and produces far better curtains. They hang beautifully.
Sew whatever tape of choice with machine – and – the pièce de résistance – the little pocket for the drawstrings. So neat. It saves having those tedious strings hanging down and distracting from my creative masterpiece.
When we sold that house, our purchaser wanted us to leave the curtains. He’d already agreed to pay extra for the carpets, and offered serious money for the curtains. If I’d even thought about it, I would have had no chance. My partner flatly refused to sell them.
Our curtains moved to our next house, where it was a good thing we had overspecified as the room was higher and the windows longer. They reached the floor. Thank goodness for that.
Next they travelled to the finca where we didn’t need them. Small rustic houses in Spain don’t do opulent curtains. But they fit nicely in Gibflat, one at each window.
As ever, our neighbours take pity on us in Gib because we are poor, so the other day we were given a goody bag of clothes for him and they included a set of curtains. These came in handy given the shredded nets, and the bedroom curtain in the wash/hung on the line.
But now the dilemma is – do I retrieve more of the swirly ones from the finca, or buy some new expensive Sandersons for Gibflat? To be made by hand as the sewing machine became cantankerous a few years ago. Unless we get it fixed of course.
Note: Apologies for the lack of captions as the latest WordPress fuck-up totally eludes me. I tried to add them but no.
ETA – I went back to HTML and added captions.