And on the seventh day, your chosen deity said, “Let there be peg bags! Fancy peg bags! With ric-rac!”
Or, at least, that’s what the good people at Liberty said.
Look at this Liberty-print peg bag.
I’ve got a pretty serious obsession with Liberty kit. If anyone wants to buy me these, I would be much obliged:
Sorry, distracted. So, I was sitting about lusting after a ridiculous peg bag…
Then I looked at the price…
Twenty Five Pounds.
Oh, and another Twenty quid to ship it out to ‘Straya.
I called pork belly! What fiery nonsense, I said, to myself, because no one else wants to listen to my online shopping monologue.
Driven by my desire for what one might call posho-bogan – or paucho-bóg, if you will, I set about making my own fancy peg bag.
Oh? You want one too? You’re so deeply jealous of my flash laundry accessory that you’d like a poorly slapped together tutorial on how to craft your own?
That’s good – because I thought I’d teach you anyways, even if you didn’t really want to know.
Let’s get started
You will need:
- vintage style fabric – it’s easier to attain this if you’ve become that sort of person that old ladies like to give their remnants to… or if your friend’s mum is fabulously talented, and gives her extra fabric to her daughter to make amazing crafty projects, and then you bully said friend into giving said fabric to you. Either way, you’ll soon find that friend’s mum, friend, and old ladies are very cool people.
- a sewing machine
- ric-rac; damn right you’ll need ric-rac
- a cheap coat hanger
Spend far too many hours performing basic maths.
During this step you’ll probably wish that you hadn’t just taken ‘Maths A’ and that you would have seen that despite your ceaseless whinging, you would indeed be forced to use maths in ‘real life.’
Make one with calico, just so you know it’ll work before you ruin your lovely fabric.
Decide you’re vaguely satisfied with the dry run version.
Arrive at Spotlight before it opens on a Sunday morning to buy supplies, because you’re the coolest kid in the world.
Use up all of your cunning in not buying a Swiss Army crochet hook.
Pin and cut out the real deal fabric pieces.
NB: I’ve made these a little bit larger than they needed to be because I decided Version One came out a touch too small.
Hem up all the bits that need to be hemmed.
That is to say, any bit that doesn’t go as an inside seam.
- The top triangle-y bits
- Both flap bits
Darn down the hem bit pre-ric-rac application.
Sew on the ric-rac.
Realise that the ric-rac-ified items of the seventies were made by people with the patience of saints.
Set the three pieces down, good sides together, ugly sides to the wind.
You’ll want the ric-rac-ed top underneath the un-ric-rac-ed piece, so the ric-rac shows.
I never really thought I’d have to use the word ric-rac three times in one sentence.
Sew it the flip together.
Do the zig-zag-y bit if you’re keen.
Turn it back out the right way, and you’re pretty much done.
Marvel at how much better this peg bag is to your last mediocre plastic monstrosity.