Quilting How-To: Binding, Part 2

Yesterday I detailed the steps you need to follow to attach a binding to your quilt. Today I'll finish the lesson on binding by showing you how to tack down and finish the binding edge.

This step is best done by hand, using a blind stitch. Choose a thread color closest to the color of your binding fabric and put a single strand through a needle, knotting one end. I always start sewing the binding on the front side of the quilt, right where the two ends of the binding are joined together. I insert the needle so it comes out at the base of the binding, then blind stitch the layers together until I get to the edge. This finishes the joining on the front and gets the thread to the edge, ready to fold over to the back. In the photo to the right, you can just make out the join in the center of the photo, where there's a faint loop of thread just above the very visible extra loop (which is probably a frayed edge). If you click on the photo, you can blow it up for a better view.







The next step is to fold the edge over to the back and start tacking the edge of the binding to the back, using a blind stitch. To keep the binding from slipping, I pin down at least six inches ahead of where I'm working. Then I'm ready for the blind stitch. I start with the thread coming out of the edge of the binding; I insert the needle into the quilt backing at the same spot, or a little bit underneath, and then angle the needle up until it comes out of the binding edge a little less than ¼-inch away. (I probably space about 5 or 6 stitches per every inch.) You can see in the photo how I angle the needle, so I end up with something similar to a whip stitch. You have to be careful, however, not to let the needle slip through to the front layer of the quilt, or you'll end up with some not-so-beautiful stitches showing through.



Corners are no major problem: you fold over the side you're working on, pin it, then fold over the second side. You'll have an angle you need to finish off, but you just blind stitch to the outside corner, then insert the needle in that same corner and maneuver it between the layers until it emerges on the inner corner, ready to start the blind stitch on the next side. You can see how it looks when it's finished: in this photo, the solid red corner is the front side of the quilt, and there are no bubbles or big folds in the corner. The red binding on the purple is how it looks on the back; there's a tiny overlap in the corner that you can't really see because I've tacked it down so solidly.

So there you go! A few relatively easy steps, and you get a nice and neat finished edge for your quilt. Putting the binding on is always one of my favorite parts of making a quilt: partly because I know I'm almost finished, but partly because I'm finally eliminating all the rough edges and seeing if the result matches what I envisioned.

Quilting How-To: Binding, Part 1

I was chatting online with a friend a couple weeks ago, talking about my most recent quilting project, and mentioned that I was on the finishing step: the binding."Oh, I get confused about that part," she wrote, and I responded that it was actually pretty simple, the key was to sew the corners properly. I started to detail the steps, then said, "wait, this would probably make more sense if I take pictures and put it on my blog." She agree that would be a good idea, and so I present a new and ongoing feature: quilting how-tos. Of course I'm going backwards by starting with the final step of making a quilt, but that's what I happened to be working on, so that's what you get. As I work on other quilts, I'll create other entries for the feature.

The first step to finishing up your quilt is to create your binding fabric. Most patterns I've used start with strips that are 2¼ inches wide; you need to have enough length to equal the quilt's perimeter, plus another four to twelve inches, depending on whether you sew the strips with straight or bias (diagonal) seams. Although the picture shows a bias seam, I've also made bindings joined with straight seams, especially if I'm low on binding fabric or I'm using more than one color. You create bias seams by placing two ends at a 90-degree angle, so that the area where the fabric overlaps forms a square; then you sew diagonally from one corner of the overlap square to another, in the direction that leaves a trimmable triangle on the outside. In any case, once you have your total length, you fold the binding fabric in half, keeping the edges even, and iron the fold in. Also iron a half-inch fold on end of the binding strip.


The next step is attaching the binding to the quilt. This, like most piecing done on quilts, is done using a ¼-inch seam. (This is much easier if you have a special ¼-inch sewing machine foot, like you can see in the picture to the right.) I always start a couple inches away from the corner, where the join will be less noticeable. I pin the first few inches of the binding to the quilt, and then start sewing a couple inches down from the start of the binding. It's very important to leave those top couple inches free, or you won't have a place to hide the end!











You keep sewing a plain old ¼-inch seam until you're exactly ¼ inch away from the bottom edge of the quilt. You back up a few stitches to reinforce the seam, then cut the threads and take the quilt out from the sewing machine. Rotate the quilt so that the next side is ready to sew, and flip the binding up and away from the quilt, like you see in the picture. You should end up with a 45-degree fold, as in the picture, and the edge of the binding should be lined up with the edge of the quilt.







The next step is key: fold the binding strip back down, so that it aligns with the side of the quilt. You should still feel the angle fold underneath the strip, and the top fold of the binding strip should be even with the corner of the quilt. So you'll have three layers of binding in the corner: the bottom layer is the end of the previous side; the middle layer is the fold up; and the top layer is the fold down. Pin the layers together and start sewing ¼ inch from the top of the quilt—this should be even with the stitching on the previous side. It's important to leave that ¼ inch free on both sides of the corner, or you won't be able to turn the binding over to the other side.


When you get back to where you started, you'll need to have one to two inches of overlap for a smooth join. Cut any extra binding off the ending edge, then open up the starting edge of the binding. (If you forgot to iron a fold in the starting edge, you'll want to make sure you add it, so your join doesn't have any rough edges.) Insert the ending edge of the binding inside the two layers of the starting edge. I find this is easier if I pin the bottom layer of the starting edge to the quilt, to keep it from wrinkling when I push the ending edge inside. Then I pin the whole thing tightly, as in the photo, and finish sewing the remainder of the binding to the quilt.

Now you're done attaching the binding and you just need to finish the edge ... but since that's done by hand and this entry is already packed with pictures, I'll leave that until tomorrow. (Click here to continue.)

Photo of the Week--6/14/10

Although it was nice and sunny, Madrid in February is still a bit chilly. Perhaps that explains why neither Boy nor the pigeons were moving too fast ... because it couldn't be that Boy was tiring of performing his pigeon pursuits for posterity, could it? On the other hand, winter sun in Madrid still feels like sun, which is probably why there were so many pigeons there in the first place.

Wordless definitions: bellicose

Webster's defines bellicose as "favoring or inclined to start quarrels or wars," and the word certainly fits when talking about these two felines. Clio (the fat orange cat) is top cat, by virtue of her larger size and reach. Gigi (the plump grey cat) would like to be top cat, and often sneaks up on Clio, instigating fights in hopes of finally coming out the winner. She doesn't give up, even if she just lost the other day. (It reminds me of when I was a high school junior, lost out on first chair in band, and kept challenging to get it back every week. Stupid braces.)

Anyway, I noticed a few weeks ago that both cats were spending a lot of time lying on the floor a few feet from my desk, so I bought this little cat condo to make them more comfortable. Clio immediately started colonizing it, and now spends quite a bit of time there every day within easy reach of petting. Gigi isn't so forward, but she likes to sneak into the bottom hidey-hole, the better to strike at Clio when she isn't watching. You can see by her narrowed eyes that she was getting ready to attack—or would have if I hadn't stopped her. Silly cats.

Janespotting: Mansfield Park (1983 miniseries)

I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get my hands on this earliest adaptation of Mansfield Park, but I decided to give Netflix a try and see how many of these oldies I could get within the one-month trial membership. This BBC production is an extremely faithful version of Austen's novel, told over six one-hour episodes. With early 1980s production values, however, might not necessarily be a good thing.

The plot certainly didn't veer far from the original novel. We see Fanny introduced to Mansfield Park, her growing friendship with Edmund, and the changes wrought by the arrival of the Crawfords. All the little amusing details are there, including how Aunt Norris initiated Fanny's arrival but claimed she never intended to raise her herself; the ridiculousness of Maria's fiance Mr. Rushworth (and his 42 speeches); Fanny's return to Portsmouth and how she makes things quieter by buying her younger sister a pair of silver scissors. Unfortunately, all the tedious and boring details are there as well, but without the benefit of footnotes to explain for the viewer. Honestly, you'd think that the screenwriter transposing the scene where the young people discuss which parts they should portray in the drama Lover's Vow might intersperse one line here or there so that we understand what it means for Maria and Julia to battle over playing Agatha. There's nothing, though, so the five-minute discussion of a play few modern viewers know is tedious beyond belief. There are similar slow spots, not helped at all by the era's avoidance of musical scoring except in transitions.

Still, the scenery and costumes were fine, and the acting was uniformly good. I recognized few of the actors, most of whom have gone on to long careers in British television and film. (The one exception: the actress playing Maria Bertram, Samantha Bond, played Miss Moneypenny in the various Pierce Brosnan-starring James Bond films.) The actress playing Fanny, Sylvestra Le Touzel, might have been made up a little more plainly than I would have liked (Sir Thomas remarks on his return she is uncommonly improved), but she captured Fanny's quiet steadfastness. The actress playing Lady Bertram was a hoot, and the actor playing Edward was pleasant enough.

My main dissatisfaction with this version, aside from the slow spots, was in the romantic conclusion of the film. There it had to vary from the original, for as I wrote in my review, Austen shows nothing of Fanny and Edmund's declaration of their love for each other. She merely says that "he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing [of her hand in marriage], and it was not possible that encouragement from her should be long wanting." Given that setup, why not show Edmund being steadily earnest, or Fanny "receiving the assurance of that affection of which she [had] scarcely allowed herself to entertain a hope." Nope. In a major change from the book, where Fanny and Edmund witness Mary Crawford's shocking nonchalance towards Maria's affair firsthand, Edmund instead tells Fanny of Mary's faulty moral understanding and tells her he is glad she is there to listen. Fanny replies that she shall always be there, and that's that. No declaration of feelings. No proposal. No fun!

So overall, a pleasant-enough version of the story, and a good object lesson on why it's sometimes good to deviate from the novel to write your script. This will not be the case for the next version I'll be reviewing, but you'll see more on that later.

Photo of the Week--6/7/10

Not many pigeons in Gibraltar in January, but there were plenty of the famous and misnamed Barbary Apes, which are actually monkeys, specifically macaques. As you can see, they are not afraid of humans at all, so we got quite a few shots up close—but not too close, for safety's sake. We didn't try chasing them, since that's not the safest thing to do and besides, they were more liable to chase you. I wish I could have gotten a shot as we were walking from the top of the rock, where several of the monkeys were riding atop a van ... maybe they thought we were the vermin who needed to be chased out of the picture!

The Quilt Files, Episode 21

I'm always thinking ahead when it comes to gifts for holidays and birthdays. If I see something I think someone in my family will like, I snap it up even if the appropriate occasion is six months away. When I saw this pattern in the Keepsake Quilting catalog, I knew my mom would like it. I also knew exactly where she could put it (always something to consider when gifting something that hangs on a wall), especially if I changed the color scheme from the pattern picture.

The original pattern, for a chickadee sitting on a pussy willow branch, was pictured on an olive and brown-colored background. Blech. I'm not big on earth tones, as is evident to anyone who knows me; besides, my mom's newly remodeled kitchen bathroom had royal blue as one of the most prominent colors. So I raided the stash I had left over from my nephew's aqua-blue quilt, added a couple of scraps, and came up with the following:

Isn't that nicer than olive and brown—after all, the sky is blue, isn't it? The applique was simpler than it looks, because I left the edges raw. I could do that because a wall hanging isn't intended to be handled, so there was no need to create clean edges by folding them under and hand stitching. I didn't even need to protect the raw edges with heavy satin stitching, I just captured all the edges when I machine quilted the piece. The white fabric I used for the pussy willow blossoms had silver flecks in it, so I decided to use a silver metallic thread for the quilting. I stippled most of the background, although you might be able to tell that I tried to create a cirrus cloud-like wave pattern near the top. A friend who creates beaded jewelry gave me a tiny pearl for the chickadee's eye for the finishing touch. Here it is in detail:

It may not be the most finished-looking applique I've ever done, but I think the overall result came out pretty well. It really didn't take very long to put the whole thing together, but I was really pleased with the result. It made a very nice Mother's Day gift.