My favorite kind of cookbook is the kind that gives you general instructions on how to make something, like angel food cake, or cornbread, or chili, and then provides variations on a theme. Add jalapeños. Replace the oil with mayonnaise. Try with almond extract instead of lemon, or add cinnamon.

I've always been looking for a sewing how-to book that worked like my favorite cookbooks–a book that would give good, wearable general projects with real variations, and, more importantly, wouldn't be either overwhelming in the amount of detail given or hand-wavingly vague about exactly HOW you are supposed to follow an instruction like "insert zipper." (And it would be nice, too, if all the projects weren't made of coral-colored cotton-poly broadcloth.)

Finally (thanks to Caroline!) I think I've found it — Built by Wendy's Sew U.

Sew U fulfills all my requirements for a "how-to-sew" book. It doesn't assume you have a couple of grand to drop on equipment, right off the bat — or that you have more space than can be found on top of your mattress (in fact, Wendy did a lot of her early sewing in a New York City apartment, and if you can make things there, you can make them anywhere, as the song goes). There's enough information given about tools and fabrics and techniques that you can get started, but not so much that your brain fries from information overload.

However, the best part of Sew U, (and one that will get it to #1 on my "recommended sewing books" list is that) not only does it include three patterns (skirt, shirt, pants), Wendy spends a great deal of the book explaining how to alter those three patterns to end up with any number of different effects. In other words, instead of "add jalapeños," it's "make a pointed collar round" and "change skinny-leg pants to boot-cut". It's a sewing cookbook!

Even though I've been sewing now for more than twenty years, I certainly don't feel as if I know everything there is to know, and I took away several great hints from Sew U: probably the best one is to do a "project ticket" for each garment. I'm always trying to figure out what I did the last time I made a particular pattern, and even when I make little pencilled notes on the envelope or the pattern pieces, they're not always intelligible (especially months or years later). So the idea of having a standard form (for you to fill out, attach a swatch & spare button to, and file) appeals to me greatly–and makes me wonder why I never thought of it! Wendy helpfully provides a few you can photocopy, but I'll probably design my own to allow for notes on where I got the fabric and pattern, as well as what I did with them.

In addition, Wendy understands that your reach might exceed your grasp–that you might be able to design something your sewing skills can't stretch to. So she has a short chapter on how to work with a tailor to get exactly what you want.

The book itself is very handsome, with a lay-flat spiral binding and lovely clear illustrations. The patterns are in a pocket in the back that is bound into the book.

In short, I recommend Sew U highly to anyone who ever thought they'd like to start sewing but felt intimidated by the learning curve. It would be perfect, in fact, except for one thing: the patterns included only go up to a 38 1/2 inch bust. Nearly all of the suggestions can be applied to any simple commercial pattern; it's just disappointing that fashion-industry sizing was applied to something that is otherwise so DIY-friendly.

India sent me this fabric, and asked me what I thought could be made out of it … my initial response is that you could make a really big mistake out of this fabric!

But then I got to thinking, and realized that it would probably make a pretty good button-front shirtdress, especially if you pleated the skirt so that you got nice, even Nancy-stripes out of the checkerboard design. (Just about any novelty fabric will work in a shirtdress, because the form is so simple.) Also, I'm fairly sure that you could get Nancy Drew-themed buttons, although a cursory Google does not bear this out; you could also use the Nancy-face squares (or, more interestingly, the dialogue squares) to make big covered buttons.

You could also make a big circle skirt and make bias binding to trim a matching pink cardigan. Embroidering a big "ND" on the chest would be a nice touch.

I could also see this as a sheath dress, although you'd have to line it.

What would you do? Make sure to put pockets in it — Nancy Drew strikes me as the kind of heroine who always has a pocket. And a bobby pin in her hair in case she needs to pick a lock.

I have nearly talked myself into buying five yards of this damn stuff, and I'm not even a big Nancy Drew fan! If you want some, click on the image link. It's $10.99/yard, and there's only the pink and brown colorway — blue and brown is sold out. If you end up making any style of dress with this, please send me a picture!

Jen (who was Macojero on eBay) has opened up her new pattern site, Mom's Patterns, and to celebrate she's offering us a "virtual hot dog" at her grand opening! Use the code hotdog on her site and get 10% off.

Now, as you know, it is my solemn responsibility as a blogger (it's in the Blogger's Code, which I recite to myself each time I begin a post) to test out discounts before I make them public, just to make sure that everything is working as advertised. So I browsed around the new site and very shortly found a pattern I couldn't live without:

And, yes, I am planning on making this up with two different fabrics; maybe a dark maroon/light magenta combo or perhaps in gray and black … and yes, the discount works fine. (Don't forget to enter it on the page where you choose your payment method).

Thanks, Mom!

The biggest consolation of my upcoming move (other than being able to indulge my love of making list after list) is that I will have a sewing room. I do have a sewing "space" now (and I know I'm lucky to have that–I too have spent years sewing in the dining-room wilderness!) but not even the City of Chicago considers it a "room." (There's no window, and in Chicago you must have a window and a closet to qualify as a bedroom.)

I'm giddy about being able to set up everything from scratch, ergonomically, and with Martha-level organization, in a room WITH A SKYLIGHT. Oh, the sewing gods, they have heard my prayers and rewarded my burnt (well, ripped) offerings.

So here are the "before" pictures. Watch for the "after" pictures in, oh, about six weeks. (In my fantasies, the "after" pictures will look like a spread from Real Simple, right down to the matching boxes with letterpress labels).

Fabric "storage" and cutting area:

Patterns (about half of all I own, the rest are in comic book boxes and file drawers, marinating):

Slightly more in-focus view of the fabric (there's some Liberty on the table):

Where "the magic happens":

The "after" pictures will be taken in NATURAL LIGHT. Oh, I can't wait!

This is from the old department store I. Magnin, by way of Birchhouse Vintage.

I have to say, I've never seen something from this era with an I. Magnin label that I didn't covet. This dress would be mine, as well, if it weren't for that pesky "I don't have a 25-inch waist" problem.

Seriously, the buyers for I. Magnin must have had some kind of code of fashion ethics, something that let them do so much good. Something like:

1. An I. Magnin dress may not make a woman look frumpy, or, through being worn improperly, allow a woman to succumb to frumpiness.

2. An I. Magnin dress must be fashionable, except where such fashionableness would, in fact, be frumpy (conflict with rule #1).

3. An I. Magnin dress must be interesting, except where being interesting could conflict with #1 and #2.

Do you think they had a poster listing these rules in the break room? I hope so.

Of course, there is no I. Magnin any longer; they were eaten up by the horrible Macy's, the same chain that just ate Marshall Field's (and couldn't even get the signs right).

(Click on the image if you want to check out the eBay listing for this dress.)