Bibs & Frills

My progress on my jacket has been creepy-crawling along (honestly it’s been like, two creeps forward, one crawl back), so here’s a couple items that I’ve already worn a lot. First is my third No Frills sweater, and it’s the furthest No Frills from the designer’s intention I’ve made so far. I had yarn left over from my aborted shawl project, and the fact that it wasn’t totally suitable for this pattern wasn’t going to prevent me from misapplying it one more time!

This is hardly an original observation, but as someone who comes from sewing, being able to reuse every inch of already-used yarn is just wild. In a nice way! This took 6 balls of Cascade 2020 Superwash in Midnight Heather (originally from WEBS) and it’s not just *not* the two strands held together that Petite Knits asks for, it’s also ever-so-slightly heavier than the combo of those two strands.  Also, I’ve read that a project made from Superwash yarn can grow. So: bigger yarn, finished item tends to grow. And then for some reason I decided to size up from an M to an L?

Listen, I kind of know why I did this. It’s because I think big sweaters look expensive and luxurious. Afterwards, I realized that big sweaters which fit appropriately and are made of high-end fibers and use tiny stitches look expensive and luxurious. My big sweater mostly looks big.

It did knit up unbelievably quickly, though. I cast on on 11/20/2022, and completed it on 1/7/2023, which with my skills, is like a-cheetah-chasing-Seabiscuit fast. And it went smoothly – unusually smoothly, in fact. Partly it’s because I’d followed the pattern twice already but also it was just plain luck.

I decided to use 2×2 ribbing on the collar, cuffs, and hem, confident that it would work because these areas have even numbers of stitches. But afterwards I realized “even” wasn’t enough, they all had to be divisible by 4, because I was actually repeating a 4-stitch unit!! And the reason I noticed afterwards and not during is that THEY ALL WERE DIVISIBLE BY 4!! I gasp!

2×2 rib was the wrong choice, by the way, because now my already tends-to-grow big-yarn sized-up sweater would also be looser at those critical points. I guess I just thought a big yarn called for big details.

I also bound off in the round, ignoring the pattern, because I like the braided look of that edge. It’s easier and theoretically less polished but I find it pretty! I don’t really know the virtues of an invisible bind-off beyond invisibility, so I might have traded away something unknown. I also followed this video to neaten the last stitch.

Confession time: I still haven’t blocked this thing. I’ve just been wearing it around all sloppy. It’s already so big, even though I stopped knitting the sleeves and body a little early, and I’m worried about making it bigger! But one of the points of Superwash is that I occasionally want to wash it (I wore it while carrying around a newborn. It could use a bath). I am troubled. Can I block it smaller instead of bigger, or would Superwash yarn laugh madly at the attempt?

Or…I know this is a thing…what are your best practices for going back into a finished knit garment and ripping out and shortening? I think shorter sleeves would balance the wide body, but I’m frankly scared. Can you run a lifeline through the sleeve before snipping anything? Is there a ritual candle I should light and special words to mutter? Because, clunkiness aside, I wear the heck out of this sweater. It’s warm and there are NO issues fitting layers underneath!

Today’s layer, in point: my favorite Burnside Bibs.

If you want to see how this fabric used to look before fading go check out the sample photos, because I straight-up copied one and I have no regrets. This is Essex cotton/linen in Jungle, and I might remake this pair, no changes, which is not my usual move but in this case tempting. I could also try over-dying to bring back some of the vibrance, but given that I sewed the original pair in 2017 it’s showing its age in a couple places.

But not as many as I might fear. The strap connection points, which see the most stress, are fraying, and the outermost belt loops, which experience constant friction, are eroding too. And because I wear this often in many contexts it’s a bit shmutzy in places.

Generally, though, it’s as wearable today as it was 7 years ago (yep, did that math and then said “yikes” aloud).  

I can’t guarantee I’ll like the style forever, but the Bibs design is pretty future-proof in terms of body size changes. While pregnant I discovered a surprising number of garments in my closet that rely on the wearer stepping through a nest of straps and then cinching something and you know what, they all fit comfortably the entire time. I love a good sturdy zipped garment too, but it’s a great technique! It might be worth repeating! Identically! In fresh Jungle fabric!! No notes!!!

Even if this loose-fitting sweater + overall combo apparently makes me a FLAME TRAP.

But hey! At least a halfway self-extinguishing one!

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Pattern: No Frills sweater

Pattern cost: NA

Size: L

Supplies: 6 balls of Cascade 2020 Superwash in Midnight Heather (1320 yards), $56.75, WEBS

Total time: Cast on 11/20/2022; cast off 1/7/2023

Total cost: $56.75

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Pattern: Sew House Seven Burnside Bibs

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 14, dartless version

Supplies: 4 yards Essex linen/cotton in Jungle, fabric.com, $26.58; thread, Michael’s, $1.79

Total time: 7.75 hours

Total cost: $28.47

Purl Soho Summer Romper

A brief intermission from my Taslan jacket to share this blink-and-you’d-miss-it project.

I recently sorted my scraps box into three categories: small pieces for patchwork, larger pieces, and Buy Nothing (get thee out of my house). Even my largest larger pieces weren’t really enough to make grown-up garments but they were all fabrics I would be excited to sew with again. And because Mini-Muffin’s first birthday is approaching I figured her turn was here! I wasn’t going to sew her anything during her kudzu era but the next size up in commercial clothing is 12 – 18 months, so I assume that means her size will stabilize, at least relatively.

I decided on this really cute and really zero-dollars romper pattern from Purl Soho: the Summer Romper. It’s straightforwardly drafted, the kind of thing you could probably draw out yourself on the back of some gift wrap, but I wanted guidance as to sizing. That said its smallest size is for a 2 year old. So let’s do math!

The finished waist size for a 2-year-old is listed as 22”, unstretched. I looked up 1-year-old waist sizes and general consensus says around 19”. Now, I could have measured my baby, but she wasn’t one yet plus I wouldn’t put it past her to add an inch when my back is turned, even if her growth is slowing down. So I printed the pattern at 90% (90% of 22” = 19.8”), intending to cut the smallest size.

It just looked so dinky on the paper, though! So instead I cut along the 3-year-old lines.  Theoretically this would yield a finished waist of 20.7” (90% of the listed 3-year-old waist measurement, 23”), but I also used double the called-for seam allowance. Purl Soho asks for ¼” seam allowances and a zig-zagged finish; you know I used ½” and French seams. This lawn deserves it! My finished waist, unstretched, is 19”.

Seven-tenths of an inch just vanished into the ether. But I think that missing measurement would buy me a day or two at most, since this barely fits already. It’s so cute and so not designed with a none-too-skimpy cloth diaper bottom in mind. My own baby adaptation thankfully gave me some flexibility, because otherwise this was an atomic wedgie but make it fashion.

Instead of sewing the inseams together, I added snaps. I finished the crotch seams and outseams first, then the front inseam, using a narrow interfaced self-fabric facing. Then I hemmed the legs and finished the back inseam with a narrow interfaced tab (attached like a sleeve cuff), extending the back inseam past the front by its facing width. (Side note: that inseam is tee-hee-heeny, my sizing choices aside, so I used much less hem allowance than directed.)

Since I needed a little more back-to-front room, I was able to replace my first back tab with a much longer one – a built-in onesie extender, effectively. This gave some necessary breathing space, a generous 1”, to the back crotch hook and leg circumference. And now it kinda sorta fits a bit!

I did a lot of thinking about snaps, including re-reading the What Kat Makes post on the subject. Ultimately though I just went with what I had. They’re a little thick, but a lot available. My once endless supply is dwindling so who knows what snaps I’ll buy next! Probably not expensive ones! I decided on two, and nothing in the middle so the inseam can still fold pita-style for wear.

I also tweaked the waistband casing. Instead of making it into a loop by joining the short ends, I cut it in two pieces, turned under the short end seam allowances, and left the casing unsewn at the sides. The topstitching holds everything secure, and I could feed the elastic through either open side and then adjust and sew its ends together really easily. This wouldn’t work with all constructions, but here the casing is layered under the front.

My straps are a smidge shorter than designed – around 27” instead of 30”. The biggest pain in my own none-too-skimpy butt (hey, Mini-Muffin gets it honestly) with Purl Soho’s patterns is their habit of hiding cut pieces in the instructions. I get that you don’t need a pattern piece for a 30” x 1 5/8” rectangle, but put the measurements in the pattern file, team! Ditto that for the waistband!

I was surprised to realize I never blogged the original use for this fabric! It’s Lady McElroy cotton lawn and I bought it several years ago, paying rush shipping by the way, and then sat down and stared at it for several years. I could never figure out what garment to make for myself and I didn’t want to waste it – I still think it’s beautiful, and the print clarity and saturation are really excellent. Eventually rather than settling for a good-enough project for myself, I made a Fairfield for Professor Boyfriend, and it looks great on him and I love it! I’m happy to report it’s also washed and worn well for a while.

This romper, be it ever so brief, is pretty cute. I’d use the pattern again (suitably sized up and widened for booty room). And I was really, really happy to use the scraps of this fabric, instead of hoarding them for another several years! My takeaway moral, by the way: never pay for expedited shipping.

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Pattern: Purl Soho Summer Romper

Pattern cost: $0.00

Size: 30% of 3-year-old plus doubled seam allowances

Supplies: scraps of Lady McElroy cotton lawn, from stash; 2 yards 1/2″ elastic, Gather Here, $3.18; thread, snaps from stash

Total time: 3.5 hours

Total cost: $3.18

Kelly II, Part One: Taslan

I’m finally making a second Kelly anorak – now with new, actual functionality!! I’ve pulled on my existing Kelly, my one hooded coat, on enough rainy days, to then walk home in fully saturated cotton twill, to know my top priority was water resistance. Not water *proof* – I wasn’t ready to commit to seam tape etcetera! – but just not, like, instantly wet and very heavy. I also didn’t want to overengineer this thing, since my main use case is city walking. Taslan (brand name) seem to have my desired qualities, plus a reasonable price point – I read about it here, as a windbreaker, and here as hiking pants.

But despite having many years to think this project over I went about it a bit back-asswards. I might have found a suitable fabric in general, but I definitely didn’t choose the fabric to suit the pattern, even though I had the pattern first. A few things mentioned in those posts: Taslan frays. It’s synthetic. You can’t attach iron-on interfacing, because it can’t handle heat. The Kelly pattern has all these interfaced pieces plus it’s intended to be finished with flat-felled seams.

BUT DID I LISTEN?!

It wasn’t until I was holding my 3 yards of 4-oz olive Taslan in my hands that I got uneasy. But I could see that while it might not hold a press, it could certainly wrinkle, so that got me hopeful about maybe a little judicious iron use. I prewashed the yardage (no turning back!) and cut myself a 3 x 3 square for what was essentially a series of material tests. I hit it with various heats, worried the edges to check fraying, and tried to pull it out of shape. And I was actually happy with the results! It didn’t hold a crisp press, but it wasn’t slippery like rayon or springy like polyester. I could use medium heat on my iron with no ill effects (the “wool” setting, supposedly), and while that wouldn’t be enough to attach interfacing, I didn’t have to worry about melting the nylon during normal use. I tried a clapper; it did help, but unfortunately when I used enough steam to make the clapper worthwhile, the fabric also got a little ripple-y, so that was out. But I didn’t find the fraying to be too bad, and it was crisp, light, and stable to handle. Also, if it has a wrong side, I couldn’t tell the difference. Time to launch.

Funnily, when I went to trace my pattern, I realized I’d missed one test – marking tools. Nothing really showed up on the Taslan! Not chalk, not pen, not charcoal. Weird! I ended up using a plain mechanical pencil and while it wasn’t perfect, it was legible.

Cutting this was a bear (though not a The Bear – I didn’t stare hollowly at an ossobuco). At a certain angle, the fabric seemed to turn aside my scissors. It’s got a minute horizontal wale (as opposed to a grid, like ripstop) and cutting with the wale was a lot easier than across. There’s also a lot of pieces, but I think it was the fabric itself that left me feeling that cutting session from my wrist to my elbow! Yowzah. I cut view B, with the drawstring and the stand collar.

I waited a couple days and let my arm get back to normal before cutting my “interfacing”, scrap cotton lawn I then sewed-in, using a Microtex needle. The lawn is strong, light, and matches the Taslan’s hand. I had to piece it in a couple places, but I think it was the right choice.

By the way, just for fun, the entire weight of this jacket before sewing and hardware: 336 grams, or about ¾ of a pound. Meanwhile, the hardware kit weighs 321 grams!

At this point we had a rainy day and I wore my old Kelly and in its deep gusseted pockets I found DOUBTS. Was it foolish to make a rain-resistant version without the hood, even though I don’t like the hood? Were the sleeves in fact a little shorter than I liked? I hated the seam finishes I did on this one. Would I hate my next seam finishes too???

I couldn’t answer all those questions, though I’m thinking of attaching the cuffs with a skosh less seam allowance, to extend the sleeves ¼” to 3/8”, anyway. But I could do more tests. I cut up a few more scraps and sewed ’em back together. We’ve got: flat-felled, French seams, and bias-bound.

Flat-felled pros include: it’s how the coat is drafted. It’s sturdy and yeah, you know, flat. It looks good from both sides. Its cons: I couldn’t find a perfectly-matched thread, so the stitching is a little higher-contrast than I prefer. Since I couldn’t use an iron to define the fold, I had to use my fingers, and if I couldn’t finger-fold it perfectly evenly across 4 inches, how would I do on a longer seam?

French seam pros: it’s pretty. I can apply it easily to any seam, including an armscye. It uses the pattern’s existing seam allowances. Cons: it’s a little bulky, though not too bad in this thin fabric. The finished seam doesn’t lie as flat.

Bias-bound pros: I’d get to choose a fun coordinating fabric (not this one, this was just a handy scrap). I actually like hand-finishing the second edge of bias binding. It’s a very strong and enduring finish. Cons: it’s very stiff and bulky. I’d have to go buy that coordinating fabric. There’s a *smidgen* of rippling on the ride side, probably from my meditative but uneven hand-sewing.

And the winner: French seams, I guess? It’s a combined risk/reward assessment, but I think that’s the right choice. And what about the hood?? I’m still leaning towards “no”! If you disagree speak up quickly, because I’m hoping to find the time to start constructing today!

One vote for the hood…

Belt bag

This skirt needed a belt bag, and lo! A belt bag!

I kind of feel like I made this skirt a pet. Hey, I will take it on walks! My simple bag is loosely inspired by the Bernie Belt Bag, with two crucial differences: my version was $free$, and it’s shaped and sized specifically for my own odds and ends (I’m thinking passport/travel cards/phone).

I was pretty casual about measurements other than “big enough”, but the main zippered pocket dimensions are 8.5” x 4.25”, the flapped front pocket is 8.5” x 3.25”, and the belt is 1” x 46”(ish). I rootled around in my shoebox of leftover hardware and found a 8” zip and a pair of 1” D-rings, so those were my jumping-off points. After that I had a productive five minutes with a couple sheets of computer paper (my “pattern”) and my scraps box, and I found as I hoped that there was enough of this Essex cotton-linen blend to cut everything.

At first my pieces were: the bag outer, the bag inner, the pocket flap x 2, the strap (also cut in two pieces because of fabric limitations), and the hanging loop x 2. I added a front pocket backing piece when I realized that I had a flap but nothing for it to flap over. I don’t know how the Bernie does it, but I wanted to keep the bottom edge of the bag a fold and not a seam.  So I folded one horizontal edge of the bag front to the wrong side ½” twice and topstitched. Then I cut another rectangle the size of the finished bag front and layered it behind the folded edge, overhanging the folded edge by 1”, right side to wrong side.

I sewed the bottom of the “behind” rectangle ¼” from the cut edge through both layers. The raw edge would be concealed by the lining. After that, I just had to layer interfacing and scrap fabric on the wrong side of the pocket front to give the snap a little filling for its sandwich, and my front pocket was done.

The bottom stitching line of the pocket ultimately ended up on the back of the bag because when sewing the side seams I favored the zipper towards the front, so everything rolled a little bit in that direction. This was more of a happy accident than a happy intention, but I’m still happy. The zipper is easier to access that way, too. 

The hanging loop – would you call it a loop? – hanging…parallelogram…actually gave me a tricky time. Only because I had trouble figuring out where to tuck it. The answer was right-sides-together with the bag front and the zipper, not behind the zipper, as I eventually figured out, “eventually” being after I sewed it the wrong way first. I probably spent as much time unpicking during this project as I did sewing!

Mainly this is due to my first attempt at sewing the side seams, which left the zipper completely enclosed and the bag permanently inside-out. So yeah, I decided it was probably worth redoing that.

I saw a few tutorials for lined zip pouches online, but they didn’t seem to work with a folded bottom edge, so I improvised a system that only required a little hard-to-find hand sewing on the side seam instead. I’ll try to describe it below. For (hopeful) clarity, I won’t show any additional flaps and pockets, just bag outer, bag inner, and the zipper.

1. Gather your pieces.

2. Sew the bag outer and bag inner right-sides together with both sides of the zipper tape. Reach between the layers and partially open the zipper.

3. Flip the back outer and inner apart so they’re no longer stacked. Both the outer and inner should already be right-sides-together, and the zipper will be in between the layers. Make sure the zipper tape is flat, not folded like a soft taco.

4. Sew the short edges from folded edge to folded edge on one side. On the other, sew the bag outer and cross the zipper, but leave an opening in the side seam of the bag inner.

5. Turn right-sides out. Hand-sewn or machine-stitch the opening in the lining. It’s a pouch!

It’s no more challenging than a regular pouch, you just have to flip the fabric out of the way a bit more. I’m sure this is obvious for many, but like I said, the first time I cloistered my zipper anchoress-style so you don’t have to.

I also winged the length of the belt strap and it was way too long. I was a leetle tired of unpicking by that point, so instead of shortening it properly I just folded it over and topstitched. I’m not convinced I’ll leave it alone – I might fix it for real – but in the meantime this extra fabric “bump” actually butts up against the D-rings and keeps the belt in place when it’s slung around my hips.

On the other end, I used a not-quite-matching bag rivet to fasten the loop with the D-rings. I’m pleased with that! But (and I know I’ve said this before) the whole thing could use interfacing! I thought 4 layers of fabric would give enough structure, but I want more. My future self-reminder: if it’s around your waist: it’s interfaced! Oh did I mention, I write 1940s rhyming propaganda now.

I thought I’d throw this bag into the corner of another post, but I just kept talking about it instead, oops! I enjoyed using up leftover fabric and hardware, and I hope it will be useful. And if I ever want to shoplift a Pop-Tart, I’m prepared!

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Pattern: NA

Pattern cost: NA

Size: the bag itself; roughly 8.5” x 4.25”

Supplies: leftovers Essex cotton/linen blend, 8” zipper, 2x 1” D-rings, 1 snap, 1 rivet, all from stash

Total time: 2.75 hours

Total cost: $0.00

Denim Olya

This is my third Olya shirt, so I’ve met my self-appointed minimum acceptable uses of this pattern. I’m probably not done, since I’d like to make a dress-length one as a duster (a la I Sew, Therefore I Am – the big question remaining, linen or flannel?). But this one is a low-stakes, no-name, easy-to-wear 6.5 oz. denim!

In the future, if sewing fabric of a similar weight, I’d interface only half of the front placket and none of the seam allowances. Trimming the allowances off the interfacing is fussy, but having a pile of extra pattern pieces just for interfacing is also fussy, so there’s just no pleasing some people. Me! I am some people! Anyway, this is the heaviest fabric I’ve used for this shirt yet, and while I like the structure in the collar and cuffs, I couldn’t see a way to neatly double-fold and topstitch the hem across the front plackets. The multiple layers of fabric, interfacing, and seam allowances would make it quite thick.

When I realized this – between attaching the collar + stand and sewing the hem – I unpicked the last 6 inches or so of the finished placket. This allowed me to sew the placket’s short bottom ends wrong-sides together, then hem the main shirt with a double-fold hem, tuck that hem back into the “pocket” of the placket, and topstitch to seal.

It’s not my tidiest work, but if I plan ahead next time (say, in a flannel scenario), I could set up the placket to have a finished bottom edge and one overhanging seam allowance, then attach it neatly to the otherwise-hemmed-and-finished shirt front, pre-collar.

A lot of placket drama this time. I’m not sure why, but one of my front plackets was also a lot shorter than the other. I must have cut something funny, since that’s never happened before. I had to trim the longer placket and shorten the shirt front at center a good 5/8” to match. Now the shirt appears to be tipping back when you look at the hem. I’ll just make sure to walk around leaning about 7° forward. Problem, solved!

Rewinding slightly, and I don’t know if this was because of fabric thickness and turn-of-cloth, but my completed collar + stand were also substantially shorter than the neck opening, again for the first time. Luckily, thanks to the order of construction, I could adjust the angle of the shoulder seam to make the neck circumference smaller. I took an extra 3/8” from each side of the neck, grading to nothing at the shoulder point.

This changed the angle of the shoulder slope to be much flatter, which isn’t an adjustment I need, but I *did* need (want) to not recut my collar stand, so I’m okay with it! That seam is just finished via serging anyway, so there was nothing lost in terms of pretty guts.

It’s been a while since my last Olya and I fully forgot that the seam running from the wrist across the chest is finished at a later stage – not post-pocket, but post-sleeve. After constructing one pocket, I saw I couldn’t get in and finish edges the way I wanted (and thought I had) to. I grumpily unpicked the pocket, finished its edges and those of the horizontal front shirt seams, and resewed the whole shebang. One corner would never be the same! Then later I opened the page in the booklet where you’re actually instructed to finish that seam and blew myself a raspberry. That dodgy corner did at least create an opportunity to bartack!

The wrist-to-center-front seam is meant to be serged, and that’s what I did. But my one real dissatisfaction with this pattern is the visible serging when the cuffs are turned up, as mine nearly always are. I cut the “back” layer of the seam allowance (the layer that’s behind when the SAs are pressed up and topstitched) incorporating the denim’s selvedge, and I hope that remaining fluffy edge tricks the eye into thinking it’s just seeing selvedge, at least a little.

Next time, though, I’ll do as I oughta and emulate Mainely Menswear’s Olya – beautiful inside and out.

That said I did interface the snipped and inverted corner!! I’m not an animal!!!

When I tried on the shirt pre-fastenings, I was pleased by its resemblance to a mechanic’s workshirt. I thought that style probably called for snaps, and I went looking for images of the right kind of snaps, only to realize that a real work coverall (as opposed to a fashion one) is unlikely to have visible metal fastenings. Nothing that can catch or spark, I guess! So instead of going the mechanic route, I dug up the last of my laser-cut wooden buttons, these eyeballs, for a combo look I’m calling “broomstick mechanic”. I didn’t get the cutting depth quite right on these so I had to prep them for this project by popping out the not-quite-detached insides of the holes with an awl. Pop! It was satisfying!

I only had 8 eyeball buttons. I could have used basic round wooden buttons on the cuffs, but I don’t plan on wearing this shirt buttoned to the neck anyway, so I placed 6 on the front and 1 each per cuff, and that’s been fine. I’ve chiefly been wearing this Olya as an overshirt, either buttoned or open. So far, I like it! It’s been handy as an extra layer on these sunny but cool March days (our family dialect for that is “cwarm”, which I just realized I’ve been mentally spelling “quorm”, despite the word’s obvious origins).

While half of me feels like I should give it a minute before sewing this again, the other half could be persuaded of the usefulness of a flannel duster. Or a linen one! Or a flannel one! Or a linen…

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Pattern: Paper Theory Olya shirt

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 14, shortened sleeve 1″

Supplies: 2 yards of 6.5 oz. indigo washed denim, $28.00, Gather Here; thread, Michael’s, $2.39; buttons from stash

Total time: 6.5 hours

Total cost: $30.39

Book club

Something a little different today; I have a book response! I’m very lucky in that the librarian at my local branch is a skilled garment sewer and knitter, so she’s always adding fiber craft books to the collection. I grabbed Sew Lingerie by Maddie Kulig from the New Books shelf on a recent visit. This was pure curiosity – if architecture was lingerie, it would look like this…

…and I wear this:

Truly it is meet to describe mine as foundations. But I love reading and evaluating what I read, so here we go.

Bodies! We are them! I believe there’s a sincere effort in this book to avoid judgmental/evaluative language, but I don’t envy Kulig trying to get it right at this scale, because while being a person is universal the experience is also completely individual. I guess I’m body neutral – for example, I don’t mind fitting terms like “rounded stomach adjustment” or “flat stomach adjustment” because I don’t think they’re stand-ins for “terrible stomach/terrific stomach”. But I also love eating and walking and stretching and lying somewhere comfortable and breezes and wool socks and nice smells, so I guess I’m, like, body cheerful? Tangent aside, what I mean is I’m not an expert in sensitivity-reading with an eye towards combating anti-fat bias (here’s some actual experts I read – 1, 2, 3), but there were a couple phrases that struck a sour note. Please skip the next paragraph if you’d prefer not to read specific examples!

One was “unsightly bulges”. I think “unwanted bulges” would be preferable, if you’re coming at bulges like that. Another was “only so much”, as in “darts can only accommodate so much volume” and “a molded cup can only hold so much weight”. I’m sorry, Captain! The shields won’t hold! I think it’s better to say what things do do, not what they don’t do – i.e., “a seamed cup provides more support for large breasts”, rather than “a molded cup doesn’t”.

Also, at a glance, while the models are beautiful and have distinct body shapes, they still represent a narrow size range compared to the range of people. And there’s not one body hair on anyone. Not even, like, a cheeky dyed armpit tuft. And the underwear cuts especially would look very different with hair in the mix!

One thing I do think was done well: the language is gender-inclusive (though again, not my area of expertise, so if you see something I don’t, I’d love to know and learn). Also this definition:

Leg Openings. The leg openings are where the legs are inserted, allowing the wearer to put on or take off the panties.

Comedy gold, my friends!!

And I learned a lot! It improved my vocabulary for sure – I came in as a rank beginner, having only ever made and discarded a couple Watson bras (fine, accessible pattern, but it didn’t work for me). One tip that clicked with me: use zigzag stitches on horizontal seams and straight stitches on vertical seams, so your directions of stretch match your likely movement patterns. I’m also glad to learn the names of various underwear styles. They’re intuitive but not descriptive, so knowing specifics will hopefully help me buy comfier bottoms.

And I do say “buy” because I’m not hugely likely to sew any of these patterns! I like comfort, simplicity, and as few seams as possible. I own multiples of a RTW bralette sans wires, adjustable straps, or back hooks, and honestly I find that ideal. With my probable non-application in mind, I just skimmed the section about fitting adjustments. My impression is that it’s pretty good. The diagrams are clearly labeled technical drawings, which I agree is best for following step-by-step, but a few “before and after” photos would be very welcome, too. Fitting is described relative to breast tissue and the breast root, and it would be great to see adjustments in context!

Typically I prefer a pattern book to have everything included, but I reluctantly admit that using a QR code to access, download, and print these patterns is very convenient. If it was pants or shirts, I’d like to have the option to trace, but since the individual pattern pieces are small it makes a lot of sense here.

Flipping through the patterns in more detail, though, I realized a couple things; first, that there’s a lot of chat about underwire even though there’s only one underwired bra pattern (to 4 bralettes); and second, that all 3 panty patterns are godawful.

Maybe it’s the bridal white, but these are so dang chaste, details like the little keyhole read as pointless complications. At this point, is it even lingerie or just itchy underwear?

There’s also two swimsuit patterns, one bodysuit, and a segment on nursing and mastectomy bras, though those last are not shown modeled. Which kind of makes me think that despite the suggestion that these patterns are for anybody (not to mention the feather-lightest of glosses over Free The Nipple) that these patterns are really for a specific subset of anybody: people whose tastes and fitting needs are likely addressed, for the most part, by RTW. Ideally, everyone should have their tastes and needs met, so I’m not mad at that, I just was hoping for something a little less conventional!

Still, I don’t regret checking this book out. Reading it was entertaining and educational. I learned some of what it intended to teach, and a little of what it probably didn’t intend, too – i.e., evaluating whether a pattern does or doesn’t address a broader market. And many of the bra-making bits and bobs are really fun to look at. To the point where I was like “SHOULD I buy a kit?!” (Probably not!) Is it truly size-inclusive, as the cover says? And does it really teach everything you need to know?

I’m not sure! But I hope, if you try it, you get something worthwhile from it, even if it’s just a good read.

(Speaking of: come find me on GoodReads if you want!).

Oregano Dawns

I don’t think you ever really get over the most significant relationship of your twenties. Obviously I’m talking about each person’s jeans cut from their own era, and mine was skinnies! So despite my toe-dips into straight and wide leg trouser-jeans, I’m back in the silhouette I feel most at home in, which is a closer and tapered fit. Tangent: what the heck sort of winter coat suits wide pants? Because my navy boxy coat + wide leg jeans is just postal blue box cosplay.

These are MN Dawns yet again!

Those butt wrinkles appear extreme, but I need the ease to bend!

This pattern does not owe me a red cent, or in this case an Oregano cent, which is this dark, so-grey-it’s-practically-not-green-anymore shade that I discovered I loved, and have matched somewhat poorly to my well-used pattern. Don’t get me wrong, the fabric weight is right and I believe the color is beautiful, but I don’t think 14-wale corduroy is a great fit for jeans-style topstitching. There’s too many places where I had to stitch at a shallow diagonal across the wales. This led to some stitches standing out boldly and others sinking into the gaps between wales, so my topstitching has an unfortunate gappy appearance.

I assure you I used two parallel lines throughout, but they’re vanishing! Not completely satisfying as a topstitching experience!

With one exception: bartacks. So wide and silky and such an obvious way to flaunt your thread-matching skills. Mwah! I even put them in the side seams, one of my most-skipped jeans steps of all time.

I didn’t mess with bartacking the belt loops, though, as I’d already broken two jeans needles on the waistband by then (one on the zipper, fair cop, and one just – like, ’cause?). I used a straight waistband instead of the curved Dawn waistband. I’m generally happy with straight waistbands but this one needed more interfacing. It’ll snap back after a wash, but it stretched and crumpled by the second day of wear, when these photos were taken.  

I performed all my other typical changes, which make for quite the list by now (scroll down for bullet points). BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE. I *also* added ¼” extra seam allowance to all the outseams and lengthened the legs by ½”. (At which point does “iteration” become “poking it”?) I ultimately sewed the outseams with a full 5/8” SA; I could have used the original seam allowance and sewn at 3/8”, but I don’t think corduroy relaxes as much as denim, and knowing I had wiggle room was cheap at the price.

I’m hopping around in this post, but to be fair I hopped around quite a bit in my sewing, too. I fiddled with some new orders of steps, and either I failed to record all the time spent sewing or I accidentally hit upon an incredibly efficient order, because I have these spreadsheeted as taking 4 hours of sewing*! *Plus 1.25 of cutting.

I seamed the pocket bags before attaching the complete pocket as a unit to the jeans front, which I would happily do again. It’s always easier to press smaller pieces, and if I can sew that French seam without a leg piece flapping along behind, then why not!

I messed about with the zipper topstitching too. I always use the Ginger method with grown-on extensions, and I followed it faithfully until the step that begins “Your zipper is now sewn in!”. Oh and I’d already sewn the bottom edge of my fly shield. So starting here:

Then: sew the fly shield to the free seam allowance of the right leg fly extension, trimming any extra. Pin the fly shield out of the way.

Sew the vertical shaft of the “J” topstitching (twice, if you’re using 2 lines). If using topstitching thread, pull the thread ends to the back and knot. If using regular-weight tonal thread, I grant thee leave to backstitch.

Unpin the fly shield and fold it into place behind the zipper/left leg. Stitch the hook of the “J”, starting at the center seam (again, twice if you’re using two lines, and the same thread tips as above).

Bartack, baby! That fly shield is going nowhere!

The benefits, as I imagine them, are that it’s easier to access the right leg’s fly extension and sew the fly shield to it when everything is loose and floppy; and that the “J hook” stitching keeps that one corner of the fly shield from folding up all the time, as mine usually does. This might not be a universal peeve. But if it’s yours, too, voila – a solution!

I leave you with a question: when sewing corduroy patch pockets, do you cut the pockets on grain, or match the grain of the fabric underneath the pocket? I chose the first, but the color appears slightly off because of the direction of the nap.

And a further question: does it make sense to sew a close-fitting, rigid pair of pants that attract EVERY particle of dust by the way, in this season of my life where I spent so much of it on the floor attempting to convince Mini-Muffin that socket protectors are not a delicious snack?

Yes! It is never not the season for the formative pants of your youth!!

–

Pattern: MN Dawns (Curve, tapered view)

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 14 waist/16 hip & rise, with just an absolute saga of adjustments

Supplies: 1 3/4 yards of 14 wale Kaufman corduroy in Oregano; 1/2 yard of Kona cotton in Desert Green, $33.82; 9″ metal zipper, Gather Here; thread, Michael’s, $1.89; thread, Michael’s, $1.39

Total time: 5.75 hours

Total cost: $37.10

New Old Skirt

First, thank you for all the well-wishes! We are healed! 🙂 🙂

Next, I’m finally, mindfully taking a step towards my goal of using a bunch of repeat patterns. Double points because this pattern is a modern reprint, so the publisher is also repeating themselves, maybe? This is M6993, circa 1933 according to the envelope, and I sewed View B, the definitely less distinctive view. It’s got more than a little in common with a circle skirt I made once upon a time, except this one fits.

This was more of a why-not project than a gotta-have-it project, but it was even simpler than I expected! The front and back are nearly identical, barring only the zipper, and I couldn’t tell the difference between the front side panels and the back side panels. I assume there is a difference, or I wouldn’t have had to trace those pattern pieces separately, but whatever it is darn subtle. I also decided to finish my seams simply, by pinking, pressing open, and topstitching, partly to maintain the soft hand of the fabric and partly because I liked the idea of finishing the skirt with techniques that would have been available to the average home sewer when the pattern was originally released.

Of course the average home sewer might have looked at the line drawing and cheerfully concluded that they didn’t need a pattern. And Helen or Margaret or Clara or whoever might have been right! You sew the faintly trumpet-shaped panels together, bang in a zipper, pop on a facing, whizz up a hem, and call it a day. I decided I’d do what little there was to do, right.

This manifested mostly in the facing. I block-fused the interfacing, staystitched the two back and one front waistbands, trimmed the interfacing to the basting stitches, joined the short seams, finished the long bottom edge, trued the width of the waistband to be consistent – and decided I could do better. I was worried that the finished bottom edge and bulky side seams would show obviously through my final skirt.

Luckily, after cutting everything from 2 yards of 45” wide Shetland flannel, I was left with a full-width 7” piece. This was perfect for recutting the waistband as a single piece. I also recut the interfacing as one piece, and used it to finish the bottom edge, like so. It’s just tacked in place at the princess seams.

The only other aspect I could really noodle on was fit, and I saved all my fitting for the side seams. Since I’d already used View A of this skirt in the same size, 16, I was confident that it would need tweaking, but only tweaking. After basting the side seams and trying on, I decided the waist was sitting too low for my taste. I took in the side seams at the top ½” on each side before angling outwards and blending into the existing seam. I could have distributed the excess evenly over the 7 vertical seams, but this way I could topstitch as I went, instead of all at once after fitting. Also, there was an extra benefit; the reshaped side seams matched my hip contours better, more of a stepped down-out-down line than a continuous slope.

I’d already sewn the invisible zipper by this point, mas oui. Unlike the pattern directions, I didn’t topstitch it, because Kenneth D. King didn’t say I had to, which is just a short hop from Kenneth D. King saying I didn’t have to! I also finished the top edge per this Lladybird tute, starting at the understitching.

Of course our 1933 sewer wouldn’t have had access to a blog tip (2014), YouTube (est. 2005), or Kenneth D. King (est. ???), but it got me wondering, would she have had an invisible zipper?

According to a casual Google: definitely not! This blog post gives the year they became available as “around 1968”. In fact, the 1930 home sewer, if she used any zipper, would have been an extremely early adopter of home-sewing zippers at all, according to this Threads article. Maybe she saw the 1933 cocktail dress mentioned in the article? She also would have been between 10 – 30 years early for nylon zippers. I don’t think my skirt would fool any fashion historians! I’m guessing the alternative would have been a row of hooks and eyes. I’m grateful for my mod cons!

That said, sometimes traditional ways are pretty great. I machine sewed the hem first, but it was too stiff, so I replaced it with a plain hand-sewn hem-stitch to allow the fabric more movement. This is the way my mother showed me how to sew hems. While I usually use a machine or a blind stitch, this was the intersection of the easiest and nicest finish for this skirt. I could stand to practice it more, though!

This pattern includes a self-fabric belt, which I skipped, but which makes sense to me visually and practically. Without anything on that raised waist, the skirt is very much One Shape, like something Peppa Pig would wear to a job interview.

Plus, it doesn’t have pockets. It’s absolutely yelling for a belt + belt bag! Otherwise it’s a straightforward and functional skirt. There’s a few wrinkles in these photos from earlier when I was sitting down, but I’m pleased to say they don’t really get worse than this, even after a lot more sitting down.

I photographed this with a tee to make it easier to share details, but each time I’ve worn it since then, it’s always with a giant sweater. I bet people in 1933 liked being comfortable, too!

–

Pattern: M6993, View B

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 16

Supplies: 2 yards of Shetland flannel in Nutmeg, $25.29, Gather Here; 10” invisible zipper in Copper, $1.50, Gather Here

Total time: 5.75 hours

Total cost: $26.79

ZZII: Daisy Edition

We’ve got Covid! Again! It’s chronologically symmetrical; last time I had Covid I was newly pregnant (unbeknownst…ed…ly?), nine months later Mini-Muffin arrived (I’d figured it out by then), and nine months after that ’rona came ’round once more. We’ve all got it. Mini-Muffin has been a brave peach with a hilarious husky baby voice, and my case is very mild (speak not of poor Professor Boyfriend, though). Anyway, all this to say, that put the kibosh on my plans to go hunt fabric for a pattern I just traced. Instead I went digging for useable scraps and rediscovered my plan to make a second ZZ dupe (sleep-sack for Mini-Muffin).

Only I was a liiitttllle bit short. Not terribly! I had enough of the cream sherpa to cut everything, so long as one front was on the cross-grain. I had enough green rib knit to cut the whole back, some of the zipper guard, one front if pieced, and almost all of another front. This called for my new sub-hobby: patchwork. I didn’t even try to line up the seams across the fronts – I cut what I could out of what I had, and planned around that.

I wanted to attempt a more illustrative motif, which I now kind of regret, but a daisy is 1. Mini-Muffin’s birth flower and 2. an opportunity to try piecing elements at 45°. I briefly considered a 6-petal daisy before laughing myself RIGHT OUTTA THERE.  I find it a heck of a lot easier to calculate within a square than  a hexagon! Also, I was lucky that the shorter horizontal edge of the rib knit I’d be joining to was about the same length as the space I needed to fill vertically – 7” – so a square was the right choice.

I decided the finished center of the flower would be a 1” square and calculated from there. All the petals would be 1” wide by 3” long when done, and I made them in double-long pairs to save cutting.

This is a petal “pair”  – after using the green cotton to angle the corners, I cut the white strip on that pressed fold line to make 2 pieces. I had trouble figuring out how to shape the petal ends, mostly because they’re so small and fiddly, and the easiest thing I could come up with was to cut an overlarge green triangle, lined up as shown, and sew along the obtuse sides using its edges as a guide. The seamline goes a stitch or two past the white fabric, onto the green fabric alone, so I could then cut the green triangle in half and press it outwards.

Then I trimmed the seam allowances of my little origami samurai hat. The center petals (the vertical ones) I joined directly to the center yellow, but I sewed the 45° petals sandwich-style between green stripes of the same width and length before cutting those pairs in half.

Those sandwiches also got a little triangle hat, to fill in what would become the corner.

To be honest I never quite figured out to piece these shapes at an angle. I sewed everything on the straight grain, then rotated the unit 45° and trimmed it to be a square. This wasted some fabric, but saved some mental load. I quite like math usually, so I’ll blame Covid brain haze.

It worked, though! And the daisy is made entirely of scraps, so it wasn’t worth being too precious.

In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t angled the corners of the petals; it’s just too many places for unevenness to creep in, and the difference between tidy and sloppy is so small when the pieces are tiny too! I would have made enough small mistakes with just rectangles, thankyouverymuch. In general I would say neat, even rectangles are one of my weaknesses. I’m not aiming for machine-perfect, but I’d like to avoid eye-wrong. Some of my seams veer if not outright curve.

Is there a correct seam order in quilt blocks, or does it vary from block to block? I feel like the center stripe (the two petals and yellow center) has a weird “pop” from being the last piece I joined, like it’s sitting slightly higher than its neighbors.

Would a different seam order have corrected this? My topstitching wrangled it down a little, but not all the way.

Also, you don’t need to tell me, I shoulda fussy-cut the yellow center. Okay, you needed to tell me but it’s too late now!

I wasn’t originally planning on adding batting to the daisy, but then I worried cold air would leak in. I’d already sewn everything but the side seams and lining by then, and I wasn’t going to unpick the zipper, so I stuck a scrap of batting in the back and attached it with just some machine-stitched quilting. One of the batting’s loose edges got trapped in the side seam; the other is just hanging out in there. This late addition kept a lot of the bulk out of the piecing seams and also out of the way of the zipper teeth, but it’s still enclosed by the lining. Woo! Failing up!

My non-daisy piecing was purely functional. I had to cut the last scrap of the rib knit on the cross-grain to make the second front long enough, but I’d rather have reduced stretch in that corner than no stretch. I think the “hands” and “feet” are the second-most important places to maintain stretch (number #1 being the neck).

Everything else I sewed exactly as my first faux Zipadee-Zip, with the welcome addition of thread chains to join the outer and inner “hands”. This prevents the lining from pulling out of the points, plus it’s fun to do. I use this Grainline video for reference; my only issue is that I like thread chaining so much that I have to cut myself off ruthlessly or they’d all end up 10” long and useless.

This isn’t the sewing I was most looking forward to, but it’s nice to have accomplished something useful. Man, being sick is such a waste of time off, isn’t it? And I’m not going full Velveteen Rabbit but this seemed like a good time to be able to wash sleepwear without worrying if it would dry in time for bed. Yay, backup!

(Such a wan and sickly baby. Not very.)

Get some rest, all!

–

Pattern: NA

Pattern cost: NA

Size: M (est.)

Supplies: scraps of rib knit, sherpa, quilting cotton, from stash; 28″ nylon zipper – Green, Wawak, $1.25

Total time: 3.75 hours

Total cost: $1.25

Window Pain

I mentioned that I wanted to sew more repeat patterns this year. I wasn’t originally going to count Fairfields for Professor Boyfriend, because I felt lazy counting his pattern as a “fresh” repeat when I habitually make it already. It’s like asking your partner for dinner ideas and hearing “pizza”. Yes thank you, I am aware of pizza!! But this had so many repeated steps within the repeat that I figured what the heck!

I cut three sleeves, three collar stands, 2-and-a-half collars (sort of), and 2-and-1-half-and-1-half tower plackets, not to mention the saga of the “invisible” pockets, all to get 1 shirt, and here it is.

The very first shirt I made Professor Boyfriend used asymmetrical plaid fabric, which I matched correctly (I think?) everywhere, thanks to a level of nervous attention so intense I came back around to feeling calm, not unlike Fry after his 100^th cup of coffee. I’ve never found that vibe again, which is one way of saying I’ve gotten cavalier about matching sleeve plackets. My original plan was to play with the bias here and avoid the issue altogether, but the pattern is made of rectangles, not squares, and they’re 3/8” wider than they are tall, so no bueno on the bias! Plus the black-and-white is so stark, and the weave so stable, that it seemed worth trying to get the matching right, even on the sleeve plackets. Hence my cutting and re-cutting.

Though actually my numbers above are slightly inflated. Technically the third collar stand was my interfacing and not an extra at all. I made sure to cut the windowpane to match the outer two layers so I didn’t get showthrough. I still haven’t replenished my interfacing (that’s a real in-person buy for me) and I’ve done a number on my light-colored scraps lately, so this was the best choice.

I also redrew the collar as a one-piece collar per this absolute classic, which you’d think would be an issue if I was truly worried about showthrough, except the short collar ends are almost 90° to the collar’s top edge. So I lost the benefit of the undercollar being on the bias, but the black weave lined up beautifully! Or it would have if I cut the one-piece collar without a noticeable skew (oops), so I re-cut it more exactly and excised the center segment from my first wobbly omnicollar, and used that as my interfacing.

So, three sleeves. My b, I forgot Professor Boyfriend only has two arms. Just kidding – I actually cut the first sleeve overflowing the fabric slightly, with the intention of joining a spare scrap at the selvedge à la this tutorial for crotch extensions. And what is an underarm curve but a crotch extension for your armpit? Let’s sit with that for a minute.

But I was dreading flat-felling the seam with that extra piecing in it, so when I saw I had enough yardage to cut a third full sleeve I did it, darn it, I did it and I liked it!! I cannibalized the not-quite-full sleeve for collar stands and cuffs instead of using fresh yardage.

I also cut the front button placket as its own piece, since there was no way to use the grown-on folded extension and maintain a continuous pattern across the front (there would be the visual effect of either an extra-wide or extra-skinny rectangle across the placket). This isn’t true of all repeats, but it was for one of this scale. Anyway, I calculated the separate front placket correctly, sewed it neatly, finished the folded placket underlap, sewed on a pair of chest pockets (raised 2.5” from the pattern markings, which is probably 3/4″ too high), burritoed the yoke, attached the collar and stand, and staystitched the armscyes. Then I handed the partial shirt to Professor Boyfriend so he could praise my pattern matching.

“These pockets are really invisible,” he said, running his hand down the shirt’s front. “Like, REALLY invisible! Where are they?”

On the body-facing side is where!!

I’d gotten myself turned around and sewn the shirt fronts wrong side to the right side of the shirt back. Of course the inner yoke is the one piece I hadn’t cut to match the outer exactly, plus the back dart intake was on the wrong (correct) side, so it seemed simplest to unpick the pockets and move them to the once wrong, now right (correct) side of the shirt front.

I realized afterwards that this “quick fix” resulted in the reversal of the front plackets, so it opens the wrong (wrong) way and also the skinny placket overlaps the wide one now. At least the shirt is symmetrical, so I could reuse the existing pockets, flip-flopped. But, um, oops.

Placket as intended shown above.

I cut the inner yoke on the cross-grain using the selvedge as the lower edge for added stability across the shoulders (a benefit I made up, so who knows). But there’s not much showthrough so I think I got away with it/possibly wasted some time aligning my self-fabric interfacing.

The lack of wrong side led to some real face with spiral eyes moments, never more so than when I cut the sleeve plackets. I folded the paper pattern as though it were sewn so I could mark the slit line on the tower segment. Then I unfolded my paper piece and used it to line up the vertical black stripes on the fabric accordingly (the horizontal stripes were simple). But somehow the “hero” stripe that should have run down the tower part of the placket was like ½” out. I think I held the pattern on the wrong side of the sleeve initially, maybe? Rather than unpicking the whole tower placket, I unpicked the tower side and left the underlap alone. I recut the tower side only so it was now technically a two-piece tower placket, but not so’s you’d notice. And that’s how I got 1 placket + 1 placket + 1 half + 1 half = 2!

My second go at this worked but I still don’t feel totally confident that I can repeat the feat without a bunch of head-scratching every time! I definitively haven’t internalized that skill.

Speaking of things I dread and fail at, I really really hate flat-felling the armscye seam, so for recent shirts I’ve switched to French seaming it. Since the pattern is cut with the seam allowances already offset (5/8” on the sleeve, ¼” on the body), I’m basically narrowing the shoulders by 3/8” every time I do that. But this time I pulled out the serger for that one seam and sewed it with a 3/8” seam allowance, so it’s really a chaos measurement at this point! I also topstitched the seam towards the body at the underarm and front, but not across the yoke where the bulky seam allowances live, as per my tradition of skipping stuff that’s hard to sew and assuming it will be fine. It’ll be fine!

I actually didn’t sew Professor Boyfriend any new shirts last year, so he’s pretty happy, even if his muscle memory makes the reversed front placket a bit of a chore. This Fairfield definitely took me longer than usual because of doing it across many sittings and all the re-cuts, but it was a good mental workout. Next time I want to try actually cutting some elements on the bias though!

Because this is the pizza of patterns – there will always be a next time!

–

Pattern: Thread Theory Fairfield

Pattern cost: NA

Size: M

Supplies: 3 yards of Essex Classic Wovens in Nautical windowpane, $42.00, Gather Here; thread, buttons from stash

Total time: 9.75 hours

Total cost: $42.00