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My intern, Asatta, and I recently worked with Zilpha M., an 8 year old, to create this awesome dress! She had her own fabric and pattern that she got for Christmas. It took us 2 days to complete this project and it was quite fun. We loved the finished product! It looks like something that a princess would wear; 'sew' perfect for, Zilpha! I should check to see if she's wearing it for Halloween :).
Yeah, go, Zilpha!
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After years of dreaming about it I'm taking the leap into retail this week! The concept shop will include accessories and garments designed sustainably in our studio.We will also showcase curated items from designers and brands we adore! Starting this Wednesday you'll be able to find us online or visit our Brooklyn, showroom. First photo shoot happening soon; stay tuned!
from the shop:
Kotyo Multifunctional Yarn Accessory by Mawusi
paired with purple beaded necklace & shirt from Sew Fab by Lesley Ware
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In August my husband rescued a 3-week old kitten from the bodega near our home. Someone had dropped him off because they were unable to take care of him. He was in a brown cardboard box with only a can of tuna and litter. We had been flirting with the idea of adopting another cat after Nina passed in 2015, so his timing was puuuurfect (wink;).
Since today is National Cat Day I thought it would be fun to introduce Miles! If Miles had to describe himself he'd say: smart, orange, adventurous, and always purring. To see more of Miles click here to visit his instagram account (@miles_ware). He's such a cutie pie!
Miles at 2.5 months old! I can't wait to sew some clothes for him once he's a little bigger.
Also, Nina; we miss her dearly. RIP Miss Bean!
photos: Lesley Ware 2010, 2015
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The same week that I was inducted onto the itty-bitty titty committee, I somehow found myself on the road with my dad in route to procure my first bra. Most of the girls in my 6th grade class had started to bloom. I was at the smaller end of the spectrum and had no clue that braless life would end so abruptly. After days of my dad threatening to buy me a “brassiere”, the morning had come to make the purchase. My mom wanted no parts in this conspiracy, she thought my chest was just fine.
Past trips to Grand Rapids, Michigan, for Rogers’ department store visits were like magical bonding experiences between my father and I. The agenda typically included the 45-minute drive, 2-3 hours of shopping, and a stop at McDonald’s for a chicken nugget Happy Meal before heading home. But on this humid September Saturday, the radio was off and my dad seemed to be intently focused on the highway ahead. I wanted to cry but instead I fell asleep, on the passenger’s side, to the soft hum of the air conditioner. I was not excited about the imminent shopping experience or the thought of wearing an unnecessary brace around my body.
When I woke up we were cruising store's parking lot in search of a space to accommodate my father’s silver 87’ Buick. After circling the lot we parked. My dad rolled up his window and we began our venture. Weekends were always hectic at Rogers. On our walk to the door, I observed people as they entered and exited the store. Some were empty handed while others carried white shopping bags with the Rogers’ logo proudly emobosed on both sides. As we walked through the revolving doors, a waif of perfume hit me and I started to feel nauseous. I followed my dad's footsteps as he led the way cutting though the bustling cosmetics department, the display of delightful chocolates, and the mannequins who stood in the Misses’ department, styled in what seemed to be too warm for the season.
We stepped on to the escalator and I knew that our destination was near. As the moving staircase inched us closer, I began to panic. "Who is going to help me pick out a bra!?” I quirkly blurted. "We'll ask one of the ladies who works here", he explained in a firm yet gentle tone. “O.k.”, I responded relieved but still extremely uncomfortable. On our way to the undies we stopped to price a pair of navy blue corduroy pants that would be suitable for Michigan winter weather. The summer had ended too soon.
As we approached the undergarments, a familiar face emerged. It was the young woman that had assisted with my selection of an Easter dress earlier that year. After swapping pleasantries, my dad announced, "It's time for Lesley to have her first bra." I felt like a chocolate bunny that had been abandoned in the heat; I could have easily melted onto freshly waxed tiles beneath us.
Eventually disappearing down the ales, my dad found himself a haven in the pod of chairs adjacent the shoe department on the other side of the floor. Now it was just the sales associate, let’s call her Rachel, and me surrounded by racks and end caps stocked with socks, tights, slips, panties, and an impressive assortment of mostly pastel training bras. She asked me which ones I liked the most--prints or the solids? I opted for the solids because the prints were all cartoon characters, like Tweedy Bird and the Road Runner, which made zero sense. The bras I choose had little bows carefully stitched in the center with a pinch of lacy elastic neatly along the edge. Rachel pulled a few from the rack and grabbed a yellow measuring tape. Seven minutes later we emerged from the dressing room-- my first bra fitting was complete! The process was quick, painless, and pointless.
Rachel and I found my dad flipping through catalog pages to melodic-soft rock from overhead. The three of us then shifted towards the register to check out. Rachel removed the bras from the white plastic hangers, neatly wrapped the stretchy items in tissue paper, and then swiped my dad’s card. While he signed the receipt, she proudly stepped from behind the counter to hand me my bag containing four trainers for my itty-bittys.
We walked out of the hues of yellow, pink, and purple, in the Girls’ department, through a sea of blue, green, and gray, in Boys’. On this jaunt to the escalator, I swung the embossed bag back and forth. It was the 1st time I realized that we can’t always control what’s in the bag but we do have power over how we handle it. As we made our decent back to the 1st floor, I noticed a difference in me.
*This story is from a collection of personal essays that I'm working on, entitled 'My Father, My Fashion'.
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Earrings and glasses are two accessories I wear everyday! They are essential. Did you know you can make your own earrings for less than the cost of a grande Frappuccino? Here's how:
Step 1: Gather supplies! You'll need super glue, sandpaper, earring post, back, and whatever you'll be using as your earring. I used sew on gemstones from a fabric store but use what you like!
UPDATE: I made these again using E6000 industrial strength adhesive which is a stronger glue
Turn to page 24 in Sew Fab: Sewing and Style For Young Fashionistas for additional suggestions.
Step 2: Sand Surfaces! Use a fine grain sandpaper to sand the smooth surfaces. The roughness will help your earring stay together after you add the glue. If you don't have sandpaper you could also use an emery board.
Step 3: Apply glue! This is the fun part. Make sure you test the glue by squeezing on something before assembling your earrings (this way you have a feel for how much pressure to apply). Make sure you position the post directly in the center of the object so your final product looks professional and neat. Let dry.
Step 4: Wear, Share, LOVE! Make a pair for yourself and package them for your friends. With the holidays right around the corner the fun, with earring making, never ends!
Check out my pinterest board that's all about earrings!
Please share your creations for a chance to be featured.
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On Saturday, November 12th, the Brooklyn Museum will host it's 10th Anniversary Children's Book Fair! I'm honored to be listed alongside over 50 Brooklyn authors and illustrators for the 2nd year in a row. I'll be hosting an original coloring activity from My Fab Fashion Style File, should be fun! Read more about it here! Please save the date or share with interested families.
Brooklyn Museum Children's Book Fair
November 12th, noon - 4p, Rubin Pavilion
200 Eastern Parkway
Brooklyn, NY 11238
Artwork by Ida Pearle
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