Forgive the unimaginative title of this post. It’s hot and I’m finding myself creatively challenged. I have a few projects planned but am stalling on them: reluctant to fit, and baste, and sweat in the easily overheating room where my sewing machine is.
So this post comes to you thanks to Emma of the blog Emma’s Atelier. Emma asked me if I had more photos of the blouse on and I realized I’d been really sitting on this one too long… Thanks, Emma. I needed a push!
As I mentioned in an earlier post, the pattern caught my eye immediately. It’s a petite pattern, which I did notice immediately. I did toy with the idea of making a muslin but reluctance prevailed — in no small part thanks to a fabric remnant I was willing to take a chance on.
Here are the two magazine versions from the Burda site: version A and version B (it was B that made me want to give it a try).
So this is blouse no. 1 in said remnant, of which I only know that it’s a cotton fabric in an easily fraying weave of black and white. I picked it up at B&J Fabrics in NYC when I was there in March.
I did make some changes to the design. The only true fit adjustment I made was a forward shoulder adjustment (my usual in Burda patterns). Apart from that, other changes were to simplify the design and reduce fabric volume.
I removed the box pleats from the sleeves and the back. Then I combined the back and back yoke pattern pieces. And that was it.
I’m fairly short-waisted, I’ve discovered, so I wasn’t too concerned about the pattern being petite. But if you know you don’t want the waist seam hitting you too high, muslin first (or risk lengthening the pattern pieces somewhat cavalierly — honestly, I think there will be more of that kind of experimentation in my sewing future).
My second version is in a lightweight cotton print (voile?) I got from Mood Fabrics.
You can see on both, that the peplum isn’t very voluminous. The gathering on the frontand back pieces contrasts with the relatively straight peplum.
I really like this pattern — and it was a bit of a risk. I didn’t know how to think of it stylewise, and it made me realize I desperately need to get some jeans in my wardrobe. I think that’s the perfect bottom piece to go with it.
I am planning a third one, though not for me, for a friend who will be a mom soon. The sew-on snap closures might make this a pretty good nursing top, I think.
This is my Burda Challenge pattern for both May and June, though I do have one unblogged Burda garment waiting in the wings…
Thumbs up for the pattern, and thumbs up for taking sewing risks (especially at times when it’s difficult to get up the energy and curiosity to sew).
I don’t usually participate in challenges. No fear of missing out can overcome my desire to be free to sew whatever I want whenever I want. Here, the stars have aligned: I know I’m in good company and I mostly want to sew Burda patterns anyway these days.
I had my eye on several patterns from this and last year’s January Burda magazine. I noticed that in past years, the challenge participants would aim to sew something from the current issue and, if they didn’t particularly like anything from that issue, went for past years’ issues from the same month. A neat way to keep things challenging but fun.
However, my Burda magazine collection isn’t that expansive, so I’d have just two issues to choose between, and then the patterns I liked from both were on the more involved side… complications from the get-go.
So I decided to sew a stand-alone pattern from Burda that would allow me to refashion an unworn dress into something I’d actually wear. You can’t get stars to align even more without causing a cosmic disaster.
The pattern is Burda 7198 and the fabric was harvested from this dress (a Burda pattern, by the way, and a poor pairing of pattern and fabric on my part).
Refashioning felt really good. I don’t know about you, but it really bugs me to see unworn clothes staring at me when I look into my closet. That dress looked much better in photos (blurry though they were) than in real life. And I only wore it for those photos.
I ripped into the seams cautiously, to minimize the damage to the fabric. Still, the fabric frayed with a vengeance. Luckily, I was able to rescue the zipper and hook-and-eye, and undo the hand-sewn hem without problems. The skirt became the front and back of the blouse, and sleeves I re-used without any changes. The benefits of a consistent drafting block: they went in beautifully, with minimal easing.
Since the sleeves had the navy detail — and cutting into the bodice of the dress would have only yielded minimal amounts of usable fabric — I reached for leftover fabric from thesetwo projects for the yoke and neckline binding.
My thoughts about this pattern… a mix of good and, hm, less good ideas.
I really didn’t like the suggestion to leave the bias binding just sticking out with a raw edge on the neckline. I don’t think that’s a good look. I wish I had cut the binding strip a bit wider, but I did manage to coax into compliance with an iron and patience. I applied it in a similar way I did the contrast cuffs on the sleeves: like a facing that has a folded edge and goes on the outside.
I also didn’t like the godets and left them out because the back and front pieces come together nicely, and with enough room on the hips. The triangle shape you can see in my last photo isn’t a godet — I had to piece the fabric on the back pattern pieces.
Any problems I had while sewing came up due to the poor quality of the black fabric. It’s a pretty fragile and thin poly crepe. Making up the button placket in it was flimsy and annoying. You may be able to notice that the bottom of the placket has something that looks like a tiny pleat. It’s not really a pleat, but I could neither snip into the corner far enough nor press out the placket aggressively enough to eliminate it without risking damage to the fabric.
I guess I’ll have to see how long this top lasts. Unlike the dress, it’s getting some wear already, luckily.
Verdict: Pretty good pattern, especially if you’re willing to tweak its less convincing details.
It’s all thanks to the Compulsive Seamstress, Anne. Her post about the beautiful version of the Pulmu pencil skirt from Named she made for her daughter got me to finally stop procrastinating and make it. And I had a pretty good amount of very nice black suiting fabric left over from making these pants, so I just had to finally get to work…
Anne gave me really good tips on shortening the skirt pattern. The key: don’t take out a chunk in just one place. I shortened the skirt around the hip line and then above the vent, taking out in total about 3 or 3.5 inches. You have to adjust both the skirt pieces and the lining pieces, so I’d say the other key is patience.
I’m very happy I shortened the pieces because I’m quite a bit shorter than the height Named draft for and I’m not a fan of mid-calf length…
Here are some blurry photos of my black skirt in January darkness:
(Skirt paired here with a Plantain tee with a somewhat modified raised neckline.)
A heads up, too. You are likely to see quite a lot of black garments paired with black garments here for the time being. I’m finding that wearing black right now is helpful right now. While, yes, I do expect someone might at some point crack the old inappropriate joke about my clothes, it hasn’t happened yet, and I’m getting a degree of psychological comfort from this tradition… But, obviously, cat hair doesn’t care, so I haven’t suddenly become more elegant. The lint brush is my best friend.
Back to the skirt. My measurements fell between sizes, so I decided to cut out the larger size and then baste the skirt together with a 1.5 cm rather than a 1 cm seam allowance. I ended up taking out a bit more width in the lower hip, so the basting proved very useful — as it always does, honestly.
I had a slightly smaller D-ring set in my stash, so I also “skinnified” the belt by sewing it with a larger seam allowance. And it all worked out.
Difficult parts: attaching the lining — lining the vents in particular. It took some head scratching but I got there, eventually.
My one complaint is that I maybe should have been smarter about my main fabric and lining pairing. I really wanted to sew this skirt entirely from the stash, so I ended up with a really lovely, somewhat stretchy suiting and, unfortunately, a completely non-stretch lining. It’s okay so far, but not an ideal combination. The fabrics move a bit differently.
Verdict: Thumbs up. Again I’m very impressed with Named, and I love this design made up as much as I loved the idea of it. In the fabric I chose it ends up being a pretty comfortable pencil skirt.
Have you made a Pulmu skirt? Maybe a better question: what Named patterns do you have on your to-make list?
I originally bought it for the dress but then swiftly put myself in the Limbo of Hesitation. I didn’t feel like making a muslin and I was just stuck in a loop, fretting about the odds that the combination of the high neckline and voluminous skirt would make me the opposite of what the model in this linked photo is achieving. Because, moment of truth, I don’t strut into work with all the buttons undone, quite the opposite, so…
But that skirt.
I’m paraphrasing here, but it seems to me that I encountered this opinion in several places: “those asymmetrical pleats will change your perspective on pleats.” I wasn’t sure but I’m now totally on that bandwagon. I love them.
I had this beautiful floral fabric in my stash for a while now. The pattern’s too intense for me to dress myself in it head to toe, though I can’t get enough of those roses. I’ve used it in facings and pockets. It’s a pretty stiff (canvas?) second-hand find. And I think it was just the perfect pairing for this skirt pattern.
I had another well-loved remnant in my stash, from this dress. So I made another skirt.
Details: Pattern: Simplicity 2215 view C; both skirts lengthened by 2.25″; black skirt squeezed out of a remnant due to which one pleat on the front and one pleat on the back were sacrificed but things worked out fine. Fabrics: skirt #1 – mystery fabric (canvas?) bought second-hand; skirt #2 – remnant of the “Sprinkle” quilting cotton from Cotton and Steel Notions: thread; skirt #1 – 7″ invisible zipper, navy single-fold bias tape for the hem, hook and bar; skirt #2 – 7″ lapped zipper, hook and bar Seam finish, hems, etc.: skirt #1 – serged side seams, hem hand-sewn and finished with bias tape, waistband finished by hand; skirt #2 – serged side seams, double-turned handsewn invisible hem; waistband finished by hand Fun fact: I went with one pocket in the right side-seam and am pleased; I worried it would feel asymmetrical but, no, it’s fine.
Verdict: another great simple pattern!
PS: I don’t think I can write much more about the Helmi blouse — not when I’m sewing it straight up from the pattern with only minor changes. This one was basically like the blue one construction-wise. It all started with these unusual buttons with a floral motif:
So I end with a prognosis: more Helmis to come and, possibly, more Simplicity 2215.
I wanted it all: the unforced coolness, the espadrilles, the white shirt. I even pondered the minimalist turban action on the lady on the right.
What I definitely didn’t have was “waist size 24.”
But it really didn’t matter in the case of this wonderfully easy pattern. I was able to improvise based on what my fabric allowed and got a perfectly wearable skirt out of it.
Unfortunately, there was no copyright date on the envelope, so I’m left guesstimating the publication as 1970-something? It’s a single-size pattern that uses the waist circumference (in inches, obvs) as the pattern size. The stitching lines are marked on the pattern, which is kind of nice… but given that it’s easier to mark within 5/8″ all around your pattern than to figure out other sizes from a single size, I’d still say my preference would be for multi-size patterns.
I approached the single-size pattern scientifically, that is, with a ruler and tape measure. The waist and hips were roomy enough, and I was able to finagle an additional inch on each pattern piece so as not to deflate the gathering (plus, plenty more inches on the waistband…).
You might be able to see in the drawings that the skirt panels have a somewhat unusual shape. They have a pronounced extension for the pockets and the pocket pieces are very small. While serging those panels was a bit challenging, I have to say that this design really hides your pockets well. It’s a good design idea that I might use in other patterns.
I gave you a preview in the post about the Burda top, but here’s the skirt again.
I resisted the call of the turban and made Skirt B in a poly-crepe remnant from my stash.
I decided to leave off the ties and, trying the skirt on with the waistband in progress, I also decided to shave some height off there.
Pattern: undated Butterick 4727. Fabric: poly crepe remnant left over from this dress. Notions: thread, 7″ zipper, button for the waistband. Construction details: topstitching on the waistband, serged seams, lapped zipper, hand-stitched invisible hem. Fun fact: the pocket design is really clever!
Pattern verdict: Worth hunting down if you’re into pretty pattern envelopes and easy sewing.
Do you have any tips for sewing with vintage patterns? Or any vintage patterns you’re looking to hunt down?
Annemarie (of J’Adore le Cafe Sews) nailed it in her comment on my last post: there’s nothing like an easy but nonetheless exciting pattern to get you out of a sewing slump.
For me that pattern was this blouse (#118) from the 6/2017 issue of Burda. I like the version with the peplum in theory but not sure I’m down with peplums in practice. So I “unpeplumed” it and cut it out to the length of #119.
It is the simplest thing in the world. Because this is no time for muslins, I made up a “wearable muslin” (i.e. a version that might not have worked out at all) in a black cotton gauze I bought on impulse at the beginning of summer.
(More details on the skirt from the photo on the left comming soon!)
What I learned about this fabric:
it’s too thin for human use
it stretches out from being looked at
it sews pretty well
it’s awesome to wear on a hot day.
Seriously, this fabric would make more sense doubled. But I had a yard, which didn’t give me much room for experimentation.
Details: Pattern: top #118 and hem from #119, Burda 6/2017 Fabric: black cotton gauze from Joann Fabrics (about 1 yd). Notions: thread, bias tape cut from the remainder of the fabric. Seam and hem finish: French seams everywhere, neckline and armholes bound with boas tape, regular machine-stitched hem of about 3/4″. Mods: none yet, just discoveries. Namely: the armhole was cut a bit too low for my liking (and the gauze stretched out); the neckline was cut a bit too snug, especially on the front. Oh, and back cut in two pieces due to fabric shortages. Fun fact: I traced the pattern without adding seam allowances and added those when cutting out (I kept telling myself to focus the entire time).
I love this top despite minor reservations. And it immediately set those little cogs in motion, leading me to come up with this plan:
It’s not the best sketch but it conveys the idea.
Here’s the dress:
The eagle-eyed among you will recognize this fabric. I made several garments in the navy colorway (dress, robe, tee). I like both the print and, of course, the fact that it’s rayon.
The sketch has the most important details but let me talk you through what I did in order to go from the top to a dress.
I raised the armholes a little bit on this version and I did a forward shoulder adjustment, which moved the shoulder seam to the intended position on the front bodice (it’s lower than the shoulder point).
I added the ties to cinch it in a little when I feel like it (… and hang loose when I’m melting in the summer heat).
Because the longer version of the blouse had ample ease on the hips, I simply extended the front and back pattern pieces by about 12″, then straightened and trued the side seams. You could simply extend them from the hip down to get more of a trapeze shape, but I wanted more of a shift dress silhouette.
And that’s basically it. I’m dreaming of a linen version with a self-fabric belt at the waist, but that may not be in the cards this summer.
Pattern verdict: highly recommended.
Many thanks for the comments on the last post. It was great to bond through our shared sewing dilemmas, but you have also given great tips on overcoming them!
Another week, another roundup. Again, there were repeats. But there were also two new garments, which I sewed frantically, stabbing my fingers and going slightly insane with all the tubes of fabric that needed to be turned out (belt loops are not my friends).
May 15 was one of those days that forced a costume change. I spent the first half of the day working from home. So first I tried the nightwear-as-daywear trend, donning an Almada robe over a Scout tee sewed in the same fabric (a really lovely rayon from Joann fabrics, which I bought a lot of last year).
Later on I changed into my beloved wannabe ’70s pants and I added a cardigan I knitted a couple of years ago (wool/silk, so pretty warm weather friendly).
May 16-18: a repeat vortex. I wore that Laurel dress on May 16 and again on the 18th, which was a Thursday, so I decided I’d say I did it as a throwback to Tuesday — ha! I have no excuses for the 17th when I wore the Scout tee yet again, but this time with the Beignet skirt.
… And that skirt reminded me of the Beignet skirt I vowed to make right after I finished the first one. I ended up cutting the second one out bit by bit over several months — first the lining, then, eventually, the shell. I had project resistance, which I couldn’t quite explain until I dove into actually making the skirt. It’s not the easiest skirt.
This time I chose to add a lining (thrifted poly print). The belt and shell fabric is a black cotton twill, the pockets are from some sort of a wool/poly remnant.
Excuse the water stain visible in the photo below… and the black on black. Not all photo shoots are inspired, what can I say. I was trying to clean a persistent chalk pencil mark that just didn’t want to go away. I thought it had dried by the time I took the photos but, clearly, it had not.
I still like this pattern a lot. I find it flattering, I love that it has pockets. What I dislike are the belt loops which still this second time around feel like they’re drafted slightly too short and too narrow, like it’s a matter of 2-3 milimeters, but these feel pretty critical.
Another gripe is the belt because, in contrast, it seems too wide. After turning it out I turned it back inside out (ouch, my hands!) to shave off about 1/4″. That’s it for the gripes, it still deserves a thumbs up.
I’m not sure you can spot it in these photos (unlike the highly visible water stain) that my buttonhole luck left me on this one. The fabric wasn’t that bulky, but it was a bit tricky for my sewing machine, whose one-step buttonhole is usually a smooth job. There was some thread bunching on at least two of the buttonholes, which led me to wrangle the fabric from under the foot and push the fabric along. One buttonhole got placed wrong for reasons that escape me. It took some unpicking and creative work with satin stitch to rescue it. It helps that the fabric is black.
Back to the roundup:
On May 19 I wore the new Beignet skirt with finally a different Scout tee (in a lovely Cotton and Steel rayon). And on May 20 I finished McCall’s 6885 and put it on as soon as it was done and pressed. It was sewn concurrently with the skirt — something I do very rarely.
This dress is my second #sewtogetherforsummer project and an ode to shopping the stash. I had a big remnant of that cotton sateen print left since having to buy extra for the first dress I made from it. The gray fabric was a remnant left from this dress.
It would have been a perfect combination if I hadn’t underestimated the stiffness of that tightly woven linen. The dirty secret of this dress is that I can’t button the collar stand: it’s too stiff and the buttonhole doesn’t have enough flexibility. I think I’ll live with that but I’d prefer to avoid it in the future…
This pattern has received some love online. And it’s pretty good but do I have some reservations. Some of them fall into the category “I don’t know if it’s me or the pattern.”
First in that category: the button placket. The overlap is way longer than the underlap and I don’t know what other purpose it served beyond annoying me. Maybe I’m misunderstanding the instructions but I guess you’re supposed to just attach that bottom floppy part to the front of the dress with a mere two horizontal seams and just let it flop about?… Hell no. I just stitched it down around the arrow part… which came out uneven! (Insert your favorite swear word here.) Maybe it’s me, I don’t know…
So I guess it’s just the placket that’s in that category, but that’s not the end of my dislikes.
At the top of my list is the damn tall and narrow sleeve cap.
Whenever I see this sleeve cap shape I want to run screaming. I don’t know who is able to wear these comfortably. I definitely can’t: they turn things into the opposite of secret pajamas. A secret straightjacket.
Apart from that: No pockets, so I added some at the side seams. The collar was really big so I shaved off a centimeter. I moved the waist ties up about an inch — they fell too low according to the pattern, at least on me. I added my usual 3/4″ to the bottom of the armhole on the back piece and did my usual forward-shoulder adjustment and square shoulder adjustment. Not sure how I feel about the shirt-tail hem. I think I’d opt for a straight hem next time.
On the upside: I didn’t need an FBA. The fit in the bust is fine. The fit in the hips is okay, too, though if I make this again I might grade up to the next size.
Last day of my roundup: May 21 and some ’90s inspiration with an Adelaide dress over a black tee (RTW, this one).
So moving on to the last full week of Me-Made May. This one may be my last blog roundup because I’m traveling at the end of the month and will be offline in early June. I plan on wearing me-made clothes but I know I will be away from the blog and IG for a while, so most likely won’t document any of that. And apologies in advance for the silence.
How is Me-Made May going for you? Are you in the no-repeats camp or, like me, going with whatever calls to you?
And, suddenly, all plans got moved aside and I went down the rabbit hole of the Helmi pattern from Named. I’ve almost finished the second blouse (shirt? — I need to resolve this) from that pattern and I’m actually pretty tired from the marathon sewing I’ve put myself through. When you dream of sitting down with a book and a cup of tea while at the sewing machine, you know you’re not doing a hobby right…
Maybe this kind of sewing trance is just to be expected when you finally feel up to making a more challenging type of garment that also happens to be a crucial wardrobe gap… I’m on my way to doubling the number of shirts in my wardrobe, and they are my favorite thing to wear to work.
The photo above somehow does the fabric color justice: it’s a beatiful blue somewhere between the blue of violets and that of cornflowers. It’s a rayon — somewhat unruly but manageable with a little bit of help from spray starch. Nothing like the menace that was the fabric I used for my “test” Helmi (there was a muslin before that but the muslin didn’t have all the details).
If cutting and sewing the blue rayon was at times like trying to make a piece of clothing out of water, this lightweight floral polyester crepe (I think) was like water with patches of ice. The starching helped only a bit.
Because both of these fabrics are lightweight, I was worried about making the right choice with interfacing. My choices were actually very limited, so I settled on knit interfacing on the Floral Menace to keep things naturally floppy but capable of supporting buttons and buttonholes, and on the blue rayon blouse a combination of knit interfacing and lighweight non-woven fusible (i.e. basically, the two kinds I have in my stash right now).
Let’s talk fitting…
I am definitely not in the position to judge pattern drafting, so I’ll just share a few observations. One: all notches matched up beautifully. Two: the sleeve was drafted differently than I’m used to, with a pronounced curve on the back of the sleeve head and not much ease. That meant two surprises: I didn’t have to add ease stitches to ease the sleeve head in nicely, and the sleeve didn’t fit tight at all. Magic! Three: the shoulder seam is drafted to accommodate the 21st-century computer hunch — the slope of that seam is different on the front than on the back piece. For this hunchback it meant a forward shoulder adjustment of a mere 14″, and I would have survived without it. Magic again!
Where I definitely needed a fit adjustment was my broad back, but at this point that’s very obvious to me. I also raised the bust dart slightly, and I’m not sure whether it was a good or a bad choice… I need to wear these blouses a bit more to determine that.
Now… I’m not crazy about the 1 cm/ 3/8″ seam allowance. With the madly fraying polyester it just didn’t feel like enough for French seams, so I overlocked the seam allowances (which will do, but I’m not loving it). For the second blouse I added a 1/4″ to the side and sleeve seams.
So that’s easily fixed if you don’t mind taking the time to redraw the pattern pieces (which is what I did) or remembering to add to these seam allowances when cutting your fabric.
The instructions are clear and succinct. I can’t really evaluate the “trench inspired” elements of the blouse, since I skipped them.
Verdict: definitely recommend and will sew again!
In other news, I really loved following #fashrev and #fashionrevolutionweek on Instagram. I especially enjoyed the validation I got reading others’ washing tips. When I moved to the US it seemed to me people around me were doing laundry all the time, and no one was hanging out any clothes. I quickly discovered that the dryer was shredding my t-shirts at an alarming pace and got a drying rack. I’d always hand-washed quite a lot of my clothes, and while it’s not the must enjoyable activity, I’m glad I’ve stuck with it.
I also liked seeing people’s happy “I made my clothes” photos, though, to be completely honest, I liked the photos of garment workers with “I made your clothes” signs even more. I’m hoping that more awareness about who the majority of the world’s garment workers are, where they live, and how little they get paid leads to fairer compensation and decent working conditions. That’s the change we need the most.
As for making your own clothes… Me-Made May starts tomorrow! I can’t say I’ve filled my wardrobe gaps, but I’ll do my best to wear at least one me-made item every day.
What have you been up to? Are you excited for #mmmay17?
I’ve never been as sassy as Tove Jansson’s fabulous character but she has remained my inspiration well into adulthood. Jungian psychoanalysts would agree (scroll down for proof).
I’m still amazed that I actually managed to finish this dress.
As I mentioned before, it had been sitting half-sewn since last July. The pattern is McCall’s 7314, one that I picked up at a sale, both intrigued by the loose fit and the way the bodice was joined to the skirt and wary of it. Custom cup sizes was what really sold me on it. If you don’t feel like reading through the nitty gritty below, let me tell you now that I give it a thumbs up. It was pretty easy to fit!
Before we get into the details, let me give a shoutout to the awesome hostesses and participants of #sewtogetherforsummer on Instagram. Sarah (find her also here on IG), Monika, and Suzy have been amazingly engaged in the community that’s forming around the hashtag and encouraging. I was really energized to work on the dress thanks to all the wonderful conversations that happened around my progress shots on IG! Thanks to everyone who chimed in! You helped me make a dress I really love.
I guess it’s fair to say you helped me make a dress that channeled my inner Little My. Maybe I’m only imagining that my fabric choice was almost accidental?…
Details, in semi-random order:
no forward-shoulder adjustment on this one, somewhat surprisingly (which is why you always need to check the pattern before you dive in!)
the bust darts took A LOT of pressing because they insited on staying pointy and sharp even after careful trimming — so pick a soft fabric for this dress!
I barely had enough fabric for the version I chose, so I cut the pockets from a different remnant; I’m proud of my understitching — they’re not peeking out!
I only elasticated the back waistline seam (as the pattern instructs); if you want a tighter fit, you can elasticate the front as well
note to self for next time: raise the armholes by about 1 cm (due to the square shoulder alteration)
The fabric is a pin dot poly/cotton stretch poplin, bought from Fabric.com over a year ago. I recommend using 1/4″ elastic because that’s what will fit through the casing that in this pattern is formed from the seam allowance. Buttons were a lucky thrift-store find from a few years ago.
And that’s about it for now.
Will I make another shirt dress for #sewtogetherforsummer? I would certainly like to, but I have a trip coming up and will try to focus on making some essentials for that. But there will be shirt dresses after the sewalong is over, and I hope I get to contiue the conversations.
If you haven’t joined in #sewtogetherforsummer, do join in. You will enjoy it!
Dear readers, my adventures in the scary land of pant/trouser making continue. I’m extremely grateful for all the encouragement I’ve gotten on my previous pants-making posts. Thank you all for your kind words! I’m happy to hear that I’ve also managed to get some of you encouraged by my dive into this intimidating area of garment sewing.
I think it’s worth the risk even if you fail. For one, I’ve been learning just how little I understood about the fit of pants when my choices were limited to ready-to-wear. And even though I haven’t had a “it fit straight out of the pattern envelope” experience with any of the pants I’ve made (well, I basically never do with any pattern), with some patience and basting, I ended up with wearable pants every time. So as I go along I’m learning about fitting and — more importantly even — I am really enjoying clothing my bottom half.
The third pattern I tackled from my sketched list came from Burda 8/2016. The photos from that issue (scroll through these posts for exhibit #1 and exhibit #2) didn’t give me a clear an idea of what those might end up looking like — more like an alluring suggestion. I’m somewhat surprised by where I arrived, though in a good way, I should add.
Today I take you to my messy sewing nook to meet my less-than-clean mirror in these very candid and completely unstyled shots of the new pants:
Totally unstyled but completely me-made: Plantain tee ans stripey socks by yours truly
Gah! That mirror desperately needs cleaning. But the pantsL I’m extremely pleased with them after wearing them out a couple of times and I’m liking them more each time I wear them. But I’m not going to lie to you: it took quitea few rounds of basting and fiddling with the fit before we got there.
Here are some slightly clearer photos. And details.
I’d say they ended up looking like I imagined the Thread Theory Lazo Trousers would. Or maybe how the Lazos do on the figure type for which they are drafted. I’d say that if you have a flat tummy and a derriere that is not quite as pancake-like as mine, you’re bound to get a lovely result with those. Morgan’s own samples look great, so do Meg’s Lazos (and she has a neat post about them). I’m kind of on the opposite end of the spectrum and the muslin turned out hilarious. I’d show you if I were less self-conscious. The crotch length for which they’re drafted was all wrong with my body proportions and I decided to end it on that one muslin and just shelve the project. Please don’t take my experience as a criticism of the pattern. Morgan’s posts about fitting these helped me diagnose what didn’t work for me, and I can definitely see myself returning to both the pattern and her posts to do some altering that would make these work for me.
Okay, but back to the Burda pattern. Running to Burda from an indie pattern that had a sewalong and fit advice is not a move I can explain logically. And I didn’t follow the instructions for the pattern because I didn’t get most of them. I’m definitely not fluent in the super laconic language of Burda instructions.
Here’s what I did instead, in case you want to follow my path but don’t speak Burda-ese:
I cut out the size according to body measurements, to be on the safe side, and I basted the pants together, leaving the waistband off for that first try-on. (I slipped a length of elastic over the top to hold the pants up.) These pants have slash pockets, which I did not cut out yet; in fact, I superposed the pocket over the cutout and just chalked the spash pocket line in on the inside, so I could baste to fit without worrying about pockets at all.
That first try on gave me some insight (the size I cut was too big, especially in the hips). I recommend basting in the waistband and pinning it closed to get a better idea of the fit. That’s what I did next.
I’m not going to give you my fit adjustments in excrutiating detail since your needs might be very different from mine. I worked with Pati Palmer and Marta Alto’s book Pants for Real People to figure those out. Most importantly, I took the inseam in to accommodate as per the “pancake butt” adjustment (many thanks to Melanie for introducting this phrase to my fitting vocabulary). I also ended up shaving quite a bit off the outseams, especially on the hips. At this stage, I merely chalked in the new seam lines, didn’t cut anything out just yet.
I determined the pocket placement using my new seamlines and cut out the pocket slash line. Then I made the pockets (the pattern instructions didn’t mention stabilizing the pocket openings but I did, with some lightweight fabric selvedges I had kept from an earlier project).
I sewed the darts on the back (they needed some altering after the try on) and the pleats on the front, sewing them down partly, as was suggested in one of the comments to the pattern photos (but not in the pattern instructions, gah!).
Next I tackled the fly front following Sandra Betzina’s tutorial. I’ve watched a few different tutorials for this step, and this one I find the clearest and easiest to follow, hands down. I second the advice on interfacing — I’m glad I stabilized the zipper area.
This pattern didn’t have a fly shield but I added one. Make sure you cut out the waistband long enough to accommodate this if you also want to add one.
Inseam, then crotch seam (where I did a double line of stitching once I was happy with the fit), basted outseam. There was some basting and ripping here before I felt comfortable with the fit, so I’d recommend not rushing this part.
Sew the outseam, add waistband (I recommend interfacing if you’re working with a streth suiting like I was), hem pants.
So that’s my blueprint for sewing these. Pardon me if I dumbed it down inadvertently. Feel free to correct me or add steps I might have forgotten about here.
As you can tell from the two photos above the list, these don’t necessarily look fantastic from all angles. I definitely fretted about the fit and my understanding of how pleats play into it… But the final test for me is not my dubious photography skills but the wearing. These feel comfortable. Not perfect maybe but definitely good enough to fill a woeful wardrobe gap for me.
And that’s a milestone for me. So if you wear pants a lot, dive into making them. I’m glad I did. I wish I had more time so I could get on with the next pair, but that will have to wait.
More from me soon. As always, I’d love to hear from you.What are you working on or planning to make?