Deep Cut

For increasingly self-evident reasons, I’m digging into forgotten corners of my dresser for pretty much anything that fits. That includes this old, old pair of track pants. I mostly consider these only junk-around pants because of the rise, the grass stains, and also the not-grass stains (soup? Mud? Maybe!), but hey, I still gotta get dressed every day.

These are the original low-rise True Bias Hudson pants, made by copying a woven variation that I could only find with the Wayback Machine. That post was from summer 2015, so it’s safe to say so are these, or somewhere in that zone! The fabric is Brussels Washer linen/rayon in a color Kaufman no longer produces, but I think it was called Willow?? I also think a more accurate name would be Sprite (like the soda!), but strangely it’s not up to me.

I was interested to discover that while my new curvature is forcing the front rise down, it seems  to have fixed my main comfort issue with these pants, which is that I frequently felt like my butt was going to fall out. Pushing down the front rise seems to have commensurately pushed up the back rise. I wouldn’t recommend this as a general fitting technique, but it worked!

The pictures in that tutorial are no more, but the language is pretty clear. At the time it’s not something I would have attempted without guidance, but the paneled leg is just a handful of cuts perpendicular to the grainline plus added seam allowance. Lemon squeezy! Though in a fabric like this, which aged evenly, with tonal thread, it’s hardly a punchy effect. Definitely more appropriate as a denim thing, where seams are automatically a feature. It could be a nice way to work around fabric constraints, though.

These have aged shockingly well. I think that’s due to the combination of French seams and flat-felled seams. Flat-felled seams, in particular, are such a pain to sew neatly that I usually only bother for Professor Boyfriend’s shirts, but it really is a super solid finish. The only raw edge I couldn’t figure out how to handle was the seam allowances of the faux fly, which is basically a wee useless pocket plus topstitching.

The actual functional pockets are patch pockets with a simple folded-edge finish. As a beginner I would have considered patches the easiest style; they are easy, but if you’re topstitching-avoidant, I recommend a nice slash pocket. I also enjoy topstitching though. No bad choices! Except floppy inseam pockets!!

I was still learning how to apply bands/cuffs on this project, but it looks like I stitched in the ditch on the right side to finish (nowadays I would attach the inside first and then topstitch the outside – guaranteed to capture the edge and look good where it counts). And actually it seems to have gone pretty well, get it 2015 newbie sewer!

Still used way too short a stitch length though.

There was a time (pre-grass stains etc.) where I wore these regularly, but that was a while ago! They fit better recently than they did originally, mostly because of the improved back rise, but I put them on now more out of necessity than enthusiasm.

I’m about 32 weeks in these pictures; looking at them, and at my current wearable wardrobe, forced me to make a call. Either I run out the last 8 weeks with 2 pairs each of trackies, Papao pants, and Burnside Bibs, 1 pair of overalls and 1 pair of stretchy-panel jeans (and hope the weather continues unseasonably warm), or I add more weather-flexible, pregnancy-specific garments.

In addition to pure function, there’s also my preferences to consider. These woven Hudsons were made in a more innocent time, where if you wanted a indie pattern for a pair of track pants, this was it, and because of that I didn’t really think about whether or not I liked or suited them. Well, thanks to my extraordinary frontage, I once again have limited options, but now I’m paying a little more attention and I think I don’t! I don’t like ’em all that much!

But I also have a longstanding animus towards popcorn poppers (a.k.a. highly specific single-purpose items), and I don’t want to spend my time, money, or space on one. A new wardrobe for a matter of weeks sounds like a popcorn popper to me. I think I found a balance, though: there were two pairs of Ginger jeans in my mending basket with busted zippers, though their denim was too tired to really be worth intensive repair. They were just right, however, for replacing the fronts with cotton jersey. And this time I kept the front pockets!

So I got 2 items that would otherwise be headed towards fabric recycling out of my basket and onto my legs, and I now own THREE PAIRS of usable jeans!! I feel like a billionaire!

These jeans mods took about an hour to an hour and a half of sewing each, and cost none dollars. ½ yard of cotton jersey was the perfect amount to make 3 front panels (my official pair + these). And now I can rehome my old Hudsons without fear of a Winnie the Pooh scenario!

Yay! And byeee!

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Pattern: True Bias Hudson pants

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 12 or 14, possibly?

Supplies: Brussels Washer linen in Willow, probably?

Total time: One of history’s mysteries!

Total cost: Unknown, but the pants have paid their dues

Front Panel Jeans

You may or may not have been able to tell, but I’m what the wonderfully-awful medical terminology calls a “geriatric primagravida”. That’s right: I’m gravid, I’m old, and I’ve never done this before. But yeah, I’m a little over halfway pregnant! I’m very lucky in that I’ve been symptom-free so far, so basically I feel totally normal, except that I finally have the bust promised to me by the American Girl Care and Keeping of You book twenty years ago.

Plus I’ve discovered that my preexisting shape gave me some leeway – I was already adjusting for pooch, so my regular pants fit comfortably through 16 weeks. Around 18 weeks I started applying the hairtie thing to my Gingers, but my Peppermint wide leg pants, Adams pants, and copycat Persephones worked without modification until week 21 or so. After that, my M8248 skirts, Morella pants, and Papao pants comprised my middle-friendly cold weather wardrobe (plus my Hudson pants, but those are PJs). All of the above are still working, but I badly wanted jeans, so I did some internet searching for general use sewing patterns that were pregnancy-friendly. The really useful tip I found was actually about shopping – to buy your “nice pregnancy jeans” early.  

I’m like 26-ish weeks in these photos (I haven’t been tracking very carefully since like, there’s nothing I can do to speed this up or slow it down), and I concur. These are single-purpose instead of general use, but I’m very grateful not to be staring down the barrel of the next few months without any denim! Except I didn’t want to shop and I couldn’t find any handy tutorials, so I took a stab at modifying the Gingers, and wrote one.

These are a prototype and they’re riddled with errors – or with opportunities for improvement, whichever – but they’re still a meaningful upgrade from a hair tie. I felt like wearing my zippers at half-mast was stressing the locking mechanism, too, and I don’t want to ruin pants I hope to return to and wear for a long time just to squeeze out another week right now. So these were worth it.

I used stretch denim and cotton jersey from Stylemaker Fabrics, and I’m happy with both. The jersey doesn’t bug my skin, and ½ yard was enough to cut the belly panel with a top fold, which also keeps that edge strong, stretchy and non-irritating.

I’ve drawn up some diagrams below for modifying a regular stretch jeans pattern to add a belly panel. It’s possible this would work for non-stretch pants as well, but I haven’t road-tested that yet. Note: the diagrams display what I should have done, not what I actually did, so they may not match the finished garment photos! Anyway, let’s gooo!

1. Gather these pattern pieces: front leg, pocket facing, and waistband. Stack the front leg and pocket facing; trace as one piece, or tape and treat them as a single piece. You will only be adjusting the crotch area.
2. Mark the stitching lines.

3. Measure and mark the height of the finished waistband at the side seam (reminder: place the bottom of the finished waistband measurement at the waist stitching line, not the waist seam allowance). Draw a line connecting the side seam to that marking. Set aside the waistband piece for now.

4. Measure about 2” up from the bottom of the fly extension. Mark a line at that measurement directly perpendicular to the stitching line. Draw a curve for the belly panel. It should connect to the perpendicular line at center front, but it doesn’t have to meet the side seam at a specific angle. A subtle sideways “ess” curve will give you more space for functional front pockets.

5. Extend the center front stitching line up and then across to the step 3 marking at a right angle. This line will most likely extend above the original waist/waistband height. Add seam allowance below the belly curve. Trace this piece as a unit – it will have seam allowance on the outseam and bottom edges, but not at the center or top. These edges are both going to be placed on the fold.

6. Cut the finished belly panel piece from cotton jersey (or whatever stretchy knit feels most comfortable for you) with the direction of greatest stretch going around the body. Fold it in half wrong sides together, matching belly curves, and baste the side seams and belly curve together within the seam allowance. The flat top edge will be folded and finished. Set aside for now.

7. Return to the front leg. This time, add seam allowance above the belly curve line. Retrace the new front leg piece, with or without the fly extension. Keeping it can later reinforce any curved topstitching you may wish to add, but it’s not necessary, and it won’t be functional.

8. If desired, draw a new front pocket and pocket facing, referencing the original pocket curve. The pocket facing should extend at least 1” past the pocket curve line; more is better, but space may be limited (mine was!).

9. Draw a new pocket bag. It won’t be very deep, but about 2.5” – 3” deep (measured from the pocket edge) will be better than nothing. The width is similarly up to you; about 2” wider than the pocket opening is sufficient.

10. Mirror the pocket bag piece, minus the pocket opening curve on one side.

11. Assemble the pockets + pants front unit as usual. When sewing the center front, ignore the fly extensions. Either trim them off or press them in the direction of your stitching; in either case, topstitch as though it were a real fly.

12. Right sides together, sew the stretchy belly panel to the jeans front. Press seam upwards and topstitch. Set aside.

13. Find your waistband pattern piece. Modify it by cutting at the side seam marking, plus seam allowance, and use just the center piece going forward. Cut x2.

14. Assemble the back of the pants as usual. Sew first waistband piece to back pants unit. Sew front and back pants together at inseams, then outseams. The back pants + waistband will extend above the front pants + belly panel by the seam allowance.

15. Turn pants right-sides out. Sew second waistband to attached waistband at top edge, right sides together, then flip to wrong side, folding over side and bottom seam allowances. Topstitch or hand-sew, as desired. Hem, and your jeans are finished!

That’s all what I’d do next time! This time, my belly panel curve is just a simple arc instead of an ess-curve, which ultimately made the front pockets unusable because 1. With less vertical space, the pocket bags were too shallow, so 2. I didn’t have space for a large enough pocket facing underlap, so 3. You could sometimes see the facing edge while I was wearing the jeans. I hated that, so I sewed the front pockets shut – so do as I say, not as I did! I also pressed my belly panel seam down instead of up, which, upon review, was fighting the fabric. That seam allowance wants to flip up.

I also scooped the scoop way-the-hey deeper than necessary. My goofiest error, though, was forgetting to remove the center-front seam allowance when cutting the belly panel on the fold, so mine is about 1” wider than it should be. Because I was matching curves on two stretch fabrics, I could make them fit, but the panel stretches out much more quickly and doesn’t lie as smoothly under tight shirts.

I might make another, improved pair of these in a different denim wash. I like stretchy tees and loose shirts anyway; if my bottom half is covered adequately I might not have to make any big changes to the way I dress above the equator, and jeans are the most adequate covering I know!

Speaking of adequate coverage, this pregnancy is brought to you by the robust abortion protections of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts – I wouldn’t have risked it if I wasn’t guaranteed complete access to medical care. And finally, a note on blogging: I know a new family member can be the death knell for a blog, but I’m hoping that’s not the case here (it wasn’t for Pins & Pinot – she’s impressive!). I really, really enjoy both sewing and blogging, so I have my fingers crossed for a floor baby (that’s what I call a baby you can leave nearby in a basket, though technically that’s any baby if you’re willing to listen to screams).

And I’ll pick the pins up off my floor first!

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Pattern: CC Ginger jeans

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 11 waist, 14 hip, with added belly panel

Supplies: 1.5 yards ACG Stretch Denim Dark Indigo – 10 oz, 1/2 yard Cotton Jersey Knit Solid Navy, Stylemaker Fabrics, $35.95; thread from stash

Total time: 4.75 hours

Total cost: $35.95

Comfy Cozy

Some combination of the weak pound, the not-yet-Christmas season, and international family with spare bedrooms made a makeup holiday to repeat but improve our rona’d summer plans financially feasible this December. One of the things I was sorriest to miss during our plague trip was a celebratory tea at the Winter Garden restaurant – so we booked another! Only this time, with a reasonable expectation of getting to enjoy it!

Obviously a festive tea calls for a festive outfit. I considered really swinging for the fences (sour gold full-length velvet evening gown, anyone?) but unfortunately my unyielding practicality intervened, so I decided on separates that could also be worn with lots of other tops and bottoms. I also only bring a carry-on whenever possible, so everything in there has to be a team player. The desired vibe: comfy-cozy. The budget: haha. The patterns: repeats, of course!

The top is a yet another Marlo sweater. This pattern is a winner. I struggled to find fabric for it, though; I adore the weight and drape of the sweater knit in the view A sample, but despite my fairly broad remit (mediumish weight! Soft! Brightish white!) I just couldn’t find what I was looking for. Even when I pretended money was no object, I ended up with a bunch of theoretical carts of not-quite-right fabric. One problem was the prevalence of “natural” white: I adore creamy/ivory/shortbread whites, but we do each other no favors.

Ultimately I bought 1.5 yards of winter white ponte de roma at Sewfiscated. This particular blend was 60% rayon, 35% polyester, and 5% spandex. Some post hoc Googling implied that this is considered “nice” ponte, and it served its purpose, but it’s still not my favorite.

I probably should have cut somewhere between the low-stretch and high-stretch neckband + waistband lengths, but I opted for high-stretch – technically correct, but there’s puckering.

The buttons are also from Sewfisticated, by the way, and they’re solid dupes for the fancy beautiful version sold by True Bias directly!

Anyway, I tried to steam out the puckers, which is a cool way to discover I should really use distilled water in my iron. The steam function spat out a constellation of rust water. This isn’t even the first time! Combined with the peanut butter I got on the wrong side (point: don’t eat a peanut butter sandwich while cutting white fabric. Counterpoint: I love peanut butter sandwiches), I gave this the washing of a lifetime and it survived without pilling. Which is, indeed, nice.

One benefit of the high-stretch neckband; this is the closest I’ve come to a result that actually hugs my neck. Also nice.

The bottom piece is my second M8248 skirt.

The Robert Kaufman Shetland flannel in Basil I used is probably heavier than the pattern wants, but I wear my existing winter wool version for stylish warmth and I knew I’d grab for this over rayon or something similar. I ordered it from a new-to-me fabric store, Snuggly Monkey – OUTSTANDING price (several dollars cheaper per yard than what I saw elsewhere!) and super-speedy shipping. They’re definitely one of my routine online stops now when I can’t find something locally.

Unlike my first M8248, I actually cut out all the pieces this time. AND I didn’t get peanut butter all over the fabric. So beat that with a stick!

Otherwise I sewed this the same way, but with greater accuracy since I thread-tacked all the pleat markings ’cause rules are cool. I also gave myself the screaming jeebies by pulling out a bunch of those tacks under the impression that they were stray threads and then realizing instantly that I was a dope, so that was fun! But the finished skirt is comfortable and warm, and I like this subtle grey-green.

I applied the same modified button closure (it’s just the pattern waistband, extended) so the invisible zipper wouldn’t have to cross the waist seam. The single button is left over, tum te tum, from another Marlo.

I serged the vertical seams to finish and hand-sewed the hem.

That hem is the single longest part of this project. It’s barely curved so I could have topstitched it no problem, but I’ve got the vague notion that hand-sewn hems are more fluid and flexible than machine-sewn ones, and with all this pleated fabric I didn’t want to lose any movement.

Whyyy can you see my hand stitches like a burning ring of fire, though? Girl, you tell me.

So, I’m content with this outfit, but I’m not thrilled. There’s elements of compromise. An evening gown would have been a lot more fun, but I didn’t want to overdress, and I didn’t want to end up with a one-trick pony in my closet and clogging up my carry on (ain’t no popcorn popper in my kitchen!!). That said, if I feel the same way this time next year:  EVENING GOWN. You’ve heard it here first.

By the time this posts I will be very happily outside some scones, mousse, and champagne, to name a few, and on my way home from a 🤞 vigorously 🤞 healthy 🤞 trip. Stay well! Drink tea!

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Pattern: True Bias Marlo sweater

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 10, view A

Supplies: 1.5 yards of ponte de roma (60% rayon, 35% polyester, 5% spandex), Sewfisticated, $7.49; buttons, Sewfisticated, $3.60

Total time: 3 hours

Total cost: $11.09

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Pattern: M8248 skirt

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 16, view C; lengthened waistband to overlap 1″

Supplies: 3 yards of Robert Kaufman Shetland flannel in Basil, Snuggly Monkey, $33.25; thread, Sewfisticated + 10″ zipper in Slate, Gather Here, $3.99

Total time: 6 hours

Total cost: $37.24

Shorteralls

A bunch of things recently happened simultaneously:

I’ve always had what a certain era of crime fiction describes as “the body of a well-nourished female”; this continues to be true if not truer, and all at once my years-old Morgan jeans were too tight on my thighs.

Two of my three remaining pairs of Ginger jeans gave up the ghost. These were also several years old, so not too surprising. One gave out at the inner thigh (classic) and the OTHER ONE’S ZIPPER EXPLODED.

And finally, my dear mummy mailed me a care package of several pairs of brand-new tights. Um, ka-CHING.

So I’m channeling my 2016-era Phoebe Waller-Bridge and wearing shorts over tights this season, plus relying more on skirts and tights for warmth (my lesson from last year), and the upshot is I rediscovered some stuff in my closet, including this old pal. This is my first-ever pair of Pauline Alice Turia dungarees!

One of my clearest memories of sewing this pair was that the fabric smelled baaad. Why? I still don’t know. But the smell persisted after several vinegar washes, especially when I heated the fabric, like with an iron. Based on the many search results for “how to get smell out of new jeans” it’s a not-uncommon denim thing! It’s totally faded away now, but these dungarees are five years old.

One thing I didn’t remember is that I apparently bought 1.44 yards of denim for this project. It had to be a remnant, right?! There’s no other possibility for getting that length, unless fabric was sold by the 4%-of-a-yard back in 2017. Anyway, apart from the odor and the oddly specific yardage, this is a classic 6.5 ounce black denim (not true black, but it never was!), and I heartily endorse this weight for short-eralls. It’s a little light for full length pants, but feels just right for a little shortie layer that I used to wear bare-legged in the summer (scandal!) and now enjoy over tights in the fall.

I didn’t record my starting pattern size back then (HONEY) but at a guess: 46. I did record the following changes: reduced front leg width 5/8″; reduced back leg 1 5/8″ at waist, blending to 1 1/4″ at leg; changes reflected in paper pattern. That last bit is crucial, and should have informed me going forward not to expect packet measurements from my altered pattern copy. However, since I am a ruthless doofus, I usually write that sort of thing on the pattern paper too (plus a date, in case of future changes), and I failed to do so on this one. At least it explains the problems I’ve had with fitting this pattern more recently!

The hardware came from a short-lived shop on Beacon Hill called Mercer’s Fabric; I bought a three pack of buckles in 2017 and have not had to buy them since. This is the only set still attached to its original garment, though – the other two have been recycled forward a couple times each.

I bought two zippers as directed but only sewed one. It’s nominally an invisible zipper, and I just about can’t think of a worse idea than two invisible zippers. I didn’t get the installation quite right so the zipper tape top doesn’t meet the overalls edge; instead I added a little button and loop to hold the very top closed. I’m waiting with a kind of morbid excitement for my fraying beginner button loop to fail. But it’s still here.

I goofed on the envelope pocket too. When sewn correctly, the flap is attached right-side-to-wrong side of the main pocket piece and then flipped forward to enclose the top edge. Alternatively, you could do what I did, fully misunderstand, and topstitch every edge to the bib including the top one, so what you have is not a patch pocket but a patch.

The seams of these overalls are finished with a combination of flat-felled seams – center front and center back; bias tape – back bib; serging (using what was then my brand! New! Serger!) – front bib and side seams; and the pocket openings – just clipped and turned once. At the time I felt some doubt about the clipped curves, but they’ve maintained just fine!

And honestly even if they hadn’t I can’t see lightly getting rid of these because one time I wore them to work and a sixth-grader suspiciously asked if I was cosplaying as Lenny from Legion. FLIPPIN’ I AM NOW.

It’ll be interesting to see how much longer I fit into these. They would have been loosy-goosier and more casual five years ago (I recall I once wore them to go hiking) but I think this fit is pretty cute too, especially over my new mock-neck shirts. (I’m finding these so useful, not least because they make me feel like an X-Man (an image search reveals no visual correlation between X-Men and mock necks, but I still feel like one)).

These will probably be a remake-and-replace when the time comes. The fabric is easy enough to source, and the utility is high. Annoyingly, due the above-mentioned recent fitting struggles with this pattern, I threw out my printed copy a few weeks ago, so I’ll have to reprint.

But I think these are worth the tape!

Final PSA: these shorties are SHORT!

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Pattern: Pauline Alice Turia dungarees

Pattern cost: $9.00

Size: 46 (estimated); reduced front leg width 5/8″; reduced back leg 1 5/8″ at waist, blending to 1 1/4″ at leg

Supplies: 1.44 yards Black Washed Denim 6.5 oz, $17.08, Gather Here; zippers, $2.50, Gather Here; buckles, $3.75, Mercer’s Fabric; thread from stash

Total time: 9.75 hours

Total cost: $32.33

Navy Corduroy Roberts

I wore holes into my PA Turia dungarees (pattern here), so they’ve taken up semi-permanent residence in my mending basket until (I’m guessing) I’m snowed in with no projects, at which point I might dabble in life-saving surgery. In the meantime I find it hard to picture going through life without immediate access to navy corduroy overalls, so I turned around and made some more.

Since I was deeply unwowed by my last PA Turias I pulled out Marilla Walker’s Roberts collection. I’ve made the MW Roberts dungarees once before with a pile of changes, chronicled here, but I wanted to play it straight this time, inspired by Fabric Tragic’s black pair. I think there’s something insouciant about the Roberts silhouette! I want strenuously to be insouciant!

Plus I laid out my pattern pieces to check and the Frugal Dougal (some kind of budget-conscious magical miniature Irishman, I guess?) on my shoulder whispered that I could probably get this pattern out of two yards of 54” wide fabric. And praise Enya, I could!

There was one compromise I had to make if I wanted to use corduroy and fit the pattern into two yards: the nap would have to run in opposite directions on the front and back, but as long as I walked forcefully into every interaction and moonwalked out again, nobody would have to know. Also, the front bib is lined in self-fabric; to save fabric, I had to cut the lining upside-down relative to the front nap, but I labeled the wrong side of the upside-down bib “FACING” and considered the problem solved.

Obviously I forgot I had done this, and also that there was a need to do this, and the next time I saw that “FACING” label was when I was sewing the FACING piece as the outer and the outer piece as a FACING, but by then I’d already hard committed by sewing the side button openings which overlap that seam, so ship = sailed.

I would classify the mistake as “visible but unimportant”. As are my other, more deliberate changes to the pattern. First, I drafted out the tucks on the front leg below the waist, and I even edited my ‘master pattern’ – the printed version that I return to, and that I expect to reflect all necessary changes. The top edge of front leg now has a slight dip in the center instead of being perfectly level across, but I once saw a video (I wish I could find and link it) where a designer showed an edge like that, and how when you force it into a straight line, it pops out the volume into the fabric below. And that volume is perfect for my rounded stomach! I adjusted the front pocket pieces to match.

I also sewed two hip openings instead of one. It turns out the necessary number of hip openings to pull these off and on is zero, but at least they’re useless AND symmetrical. This took a bit of doing – after sewing the front and back facings, I realized one side was misaligned by a healthy ¾”, and did a fair amount of unpicking and easing to get it to match the other. Unlike the facing/outer conundrum above, this was absolutely worth the time.

I’m going to eat a quick bite of crow and mention that I wasn’t very flattering about the Roberts directions for the hip openings when sewing my heavily edited version – but actually they’re totally fine, provided I follow them! The diagrams are clear and the order of operations makes sense.

For my last barely-a-change, I extended the straps so I could feed them through buttonholes on the front bib and knot them. I liked the idea of being able to wear these overalls snug or loose, depending on the shirt. That works fine. But I discovered too late that I really should have sewed the buttonholes horizontally, as the straps have to do a little half-twist to orient to the holes.

I have another category of changes, which is “invisible but important”. This includes adding interfacing to the button extensions (I keep saying buttons, but I used jean rivets) and to the top edge of the front bib. Because the side buttonholes go through two layers of corduroy and their seam allowances, I forewent interfacing there. My favorite neat little addition, though, is an extra step when sewing some seam allowances.

When using heavier fabric or lots of layers, I think turned corners can look a little soft/mushy, but I discovered that if I pre-fold the seam allowances in one direction and stitch them down, I get a much crisper result. This was especially useful on the back bib.

There’s no before image, but I’m very happy with the after!

In the category “future changes”, I’d like to make my next pockets deeper. These feel a little chancy. Otherwise, these dungarees are completely comfortable!

They’ve passed a series of tests – the crawl-around-the-floor-doing-a-project test, the curled-up-with-a-book test, even the I’m-doing-laundry-but-don’t-have-a-hand-for-the-wooly-dryer-balls-so-carry-them-in-my-bib test.

I anticipate getting lots of use from these, and hopefully will be able to use the scraps to repair my old Turias, too! I love corduroy season.

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Pattern: Marilla Walker’s Roberts dungarees

Pattern cost: NA

Size: 5; drafted out tuck; applied side placket to both hips; lengthened straps

Supplies: 2 yards of Robert Kaufman 21 wale corduroy in Navy, $35.45, Fancy Tiger Crafts; thread, Michael’s, $3.59

Total time: 6 hours

Total cost: $39.04

Pair of Pant

As I am nothing if not susceptible to trouser trends, these are the Adams Pant from Daughter Judy. By the way, that’s one of the silliest uses of the fashion singular I know of (“Put your pant on, you’re late for school!”). They’re described as a “painter’s pant” (just the one) but the part that sold me was “generous fit through the thigh”. I don’t know if I’ve increased my landholdings again or if I’ve just become more aware of constricting thighs, but my Morgan jeans are not as comfortable as they used to be.

These were a low-stakes sew because I had the main fabric left over from an unblogged pair of MN Dawn shorts I made earlier in the summer. I was bound & determined to own brown shorts and when I found this unlabelled fabric in a nice cocoa shade I ignored its two issues: first, that I had to buy the complete remaining yardage (2 7/8^th yards), and second, its suspiciously low price. It ran me $8.61. I took it home and did a burn test, but in my heart I kinda already knew it was poly-cotton. Anyway, I had a hearty chunk leftover, a little more than half, so there was never going to be a cheaper time to try this new-to-me pattern.

There’s three possible Adam pant prices to choose from, all of which donate 5% to a nonprofit. I chose the cheapest. As an aside, it would be fascinating to learn what proportion of buyers choose which price. Does the Goldilocks Effect still apply when there’s no difference between the three products?

Since there’s two back leg views, this pattern took a lot of printing! Otherwise there’s nothing too revolutionary in the pattern pieces, except that the back leg piece, instead of a single shallow concave curve from crotch point to hem, is an “s” curve. It’s mostly concave except for the few inches leading to the crotch point, which are ever-so-slightly convex. In theory I thought this is maybe where the thigh room would come from; in practice, it leads to a beautifully flat crotch once the inseams are joined. No stabby crotch at all. You could balance an egg on it. Props, Judy!

I was a little less impressed by the back pockets. I loved the idea of darted volume, but when it came time to turn the edges under, they were bulky, man! Undeniably bulky! I couldn’t get the stitching to sit pretty and I was hoping for a tip and/or trick to wrangle that bulk, but none was forthcoming. Ultimately I unpicked the pockets, darts topstitching, and darts, and just sewed them flat. I didn’t alter the shape, which widens towards the bottom, in hopes of keeping the visual weight similar, but on my butt it kind of operates like the trick-photography forced perspective shots from FotR and the edges appear parallel.

I wasn’t totally happy with the front pockets either. Function A+ mind you, they’re nice and deep and anchored at center front, which I like, but the finish isn’t elegant or sturdy. The bottom edge of the pocket bag is in places a single layer of fabric, which you’re instructed to finish with serging. I made the poor choice of a lightweight Ruby Star cotton so it looks and feels very flimsy. Also, you can theoretically see the pocketing while the pants are being worn, as the pockets pop slightly open by design. Next time I would choose a more robust cotton in a matching shade.

The zipper instructions were new-to-me but I liked them fine! They’re not the easiest instructions I’ve ever used – that honor as always to the CC Gingers zip fly – but everything lined up as it was supposed to, and I only had to unpick once, for purely aesthetic reasons. I used a nylon zipper because I had it around. Since these are lower-stress than tightly fitted pants I think it will be fine long-term.

I used the waistband width and length from the Daughter Judy pattern, but the curve from a many-times-sewn pattern, sadly no longer for sale, the Fern shorts. Mine looks wide so I suspect my progressive tracing and cutting added another ¼” or so to the final waistband width. It crumples like a sonofa despite interfacing, which means next time: more interfacing!

Apart from the curvier waistband, I cut a straight size 14. I increased the back dart intake ½” total each, and removed ¼” from the height of the side seams at my waist at final fitting (the side seam “rise”?). These are definitely not wrinkle-free (especially after the half-a-dozen wears this pair has gotten before these pictures were taken!) but they’re comfortable to death.

I’m a little interested in the current fitting trend monster, top-down center-out, and this would be a good pattern to try it on. I’ve also got my doubts – it requires a level of faith in a designer’s specific crotch curve which IMO isn’t always merited – but this pattern has a low enough crotch (I daresay a general enough crotch) that why not go for it!

I could definitely see myself making another pair of these in a nicer fabric. I am LOVING the thigh room (“Let my people gooo!”), and I’m a little intrigued by the elastic-back view. These are already completely non-restrictive, so the elastic must be really easy to wear. Maybe an elastic-back version with a longer hem for winter warmth + stew room? In the meantime, the poly content has not prevented me from wearing this pair, so it’s official: I like ’em!

And I like you!

–

Pattern: Daughter Judy Adams pant

Pattern cost: $14.00

Size: 14; used waistband from Fern shorts (size D); sewed pockets without darts; removed 1/4″ from side seam “rise”; increased dart intake 1/2″ each

Supplies: leftover cotton/poly twill; 1/2 yard of Ruby Star Society Moons in Natural Unbleached Metallic quilting cotton, $6.50, Gather Here; button, $0.90, Gather Here; thread from stash

Total time: 8.5 hours

Total cost: $21.40

Pocket Corner

I am healed! There was a period of about two days where I was allowed out of isolation (masked & distanced) but hadn’t yet tested negative, and I basically spent them prowling around the shady parts of my neighborhood feeling like an apex predator. Now I’m once again a delicious healthy zebra. But for a shining moment, the world had to wash its hands after seeing me.

Professor Boyfriend is also home and healthy, and our new fridge has ice cream in it, and the future is now, sweetcakes! It seemed like a good time to slap on a new skirt I sewed for vacation (“vacation”) because it’s official: I’m a skirt person now.

I have three more skirts in the pure-imagination phase, but I can already picture how useful they will be. This one, the Peppermint pocket skirt, is not only useful unto itself, but it’s also unlocked the usefulness of a lot of my summer tops that had been yielding diminishing returns. That includes my 7 remaining Ogden camis, a pattern I was wearing less and less for no clear reason.

This year I hit a sort of style plateau; I was bored by a lot of what I owned but lacked a clear goal of what I’d rather be wearing. But this skirt, and skirts generally, have helped me realize I was primarily Confused By Shorts (working theory). Ogden is back in my life! This skirt is a friend to summer dressing, and casual slight tanks & tees are its natural companions.

It’s also an easy sew. It is, in essence, a glorified tube. I like it. I like the saggy saddlebag pockets (I might be making a virtue out of a necessity, but I like to emphasize my hips). I like how the pockets slump into relaxed folds but stick out enough that my hands easily land there.

I like that it’s full enough to be muy muy comfortable but narrow enough to look contemporary. It’s a tricky width to find, but a good one to hit! Pretty much the only change I’d make next time would be to experiment with wider elastic. I could also add a little length to the back panel, since it looks like the journey over my bum is hiking up the back hem a bit, but I probably won’t.

I tend not to evaluate myself with a level.

I also like that it’s free! This pattern was designed by Paper Theory, one of those super-spendy British indies, and it’s a great way to get that disposable-income look. It’s a solid pattern and the instruction booklet covers everything necessary. I just followed along like a good little listener. I sewed a straight size 16, finished the seams as directed, and even turned up the hem the recommended amount.

Oh! I did add one line of topstitching to the waistband though, because I’m a free spirit (whose elastic always twists)!  

The fabric is a linen/rayon blend in the color “Thyme”, and it’s very nearly not a color. Actually I was such a conformist when making this skirt I tried to find a dupe of the dark-olive linen used in the pattern sample (sidebar: when did we start calling olive “khaki”? Isn’t khaki the sandy-pants color that Seinfeld wore?), but this grey-green is actually pretty versatile (double sidebar: thyme is dark green! This should be called, like, wormwood! It’s more accurate, and also awesome!). I started with 2 yards of Telio Silky Noil Washed Viscose and was left with 14.5″ selvedge-to-selvedge. I’ve already made it into a…something. You’ll see. This blend wrinkles, but the wrinkles mostly fall out with wear.

The pockets, which are, broadly speaking, the whole dang point, are actually wider than the skirt panel below them. That’s why they wing out so reliably. They’re also understitched, though in my floppy substrate that doesn’t prevent the inside from making itself known…but discreetly.

I could try using a stiffer coordinating fabric for the pocket interior to emphasize the shape if I make another flow-y version. Might be fun!

Oh and! Because all the pieces are vertically symmetrical, I was able to open the digital file, split the biggest pieces, and then stack them in pairs, which meant printing this pattern only took a lithe and lovely 13 pieces of paper!   

If you like skirts and you’re in the mood for a straightforward, almost-mindless win with lots of wearability, I recommend this freebie. I can’t tell if I’m over-praising a simple make because I’m euphoric to be dis-infected, but hey, either the skirt or the lung capacity feels good!

By the way, I’m trying to get past my style block with a fun exercise: picturing a self-insert Mary Sue who happens to look exactly like me in fictionalized scenarios (giving an interview! Opening a witch bakery! Cutting a foe, in the Austen sense, not the “Butcher of” sense!) and looking at what she’s wearing. Is it wide stiff mid-thigh shorts? No? What, never?! Then why am I? The parallel real-world experience to this is catching my reflection in an uncontrolled surface (i.e., a plate glass window) and then recording my own reaction (“OH NO”).

More summer makes to come. Thanks everyone for your comfort, commiseration, and TV recs! Stay frosty! ❤

–

Pattern: Peppermint pocket skirt

Pattern cost: $0.00

Size: 16

Supplies: 2 yards of Telio Silky Noil Washed Viscose Linen Slub Thyme, $43.70; elastic, Sewfisticated, $0.99; thread from stash

Total time: 3.5 hours

Total cost: $44.69

Navy Linen

I have a nice straightforward W to share today, and you know I like it ‘cause it’s got me standing like Jim Rash doing Angelina Jolie receiving an Oscar. Back in high school I wore a lot of skirts; I added dresses in college; then I phased out both and started living in pants, but I don’t know, I’ve been feeling skirts lately. Shade in the summer, warmth in the winter!

This particular skirt is an imitation of – um, an homage to the Tessuti Madden skirt. It’s a perfectly nice pleated skirt pattern with one side seam and an off-center button closure and I copied it, I copied it right up. Basically, as far as I can tell, it’s two rectangles, a pocket, and a waistband. I used the waistband piece of M8248, helpfully covered by a belt in the envelope photo, thanks, but it’s a curved waistband with front and back pieces that I merged into one long piece. Then I split the waistband 2.5” from one end, and moved that bit to the other end. Finally, I drew on additional straight extensions for the button over/underlap. Et voilà! “Drafting”!

The skirt panels required a little simple addition. I decided to draw them in Illustrator, and then look at the Properties panel and transfer those dimensions to fabric. I started with two pieces each 36” long and 15.75” inches wide, which is half of my waist measurement. Same as the waistband, I cut off a 2.5” section of one panel (now the front) and moved it to the other panel (now the back). I decided on the finished width of the pleats – .75” – and for each pleat (8 in front, 10 in back), added another 1.5” in width. Since a pleat viewed on edge is basically a squashed letter “Z”, that measurement is double the top layer – it adds the zig back/zag forward fabric, for fullness that doesn’t change the finished waist measurement.

I also added 1.25” in width to each panel for button placket, and then 5/8” seam allowances using the recently-discovered-by-me Offset Path function – I looovvveee iiittt – and I had my final pattern pieces! Still rectangles, but BIGGER rectangles. The front was 29.5” wide x 37.25” long, and the back was 36.875” wide x 37.25” long.    

 I messed up a bit adding the grown-on button plackets; I thought of them as overlapping, which they are, but of course they also add one placket’s-width to the skirt. I made the same error of logic when adding to the waistband, so the pieces fit together, but the finished skirt was 1.25” too loose. With a bulky sweater it was just comfortably loose, but in a summer top – and let’s face it, linen skirts and summer tops go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong – it was dipping at the center back. Rather than minutely increasing the pleats or resewing one of the plackets, I decided to retcon in some back waist elastic. I unpicked two sections of waistband and fed a scrap of some 1.5” elastic through one opening and out the other, snugging it up and then securing it with two short vertical lines at the side seam + what would have been a side seam.

The skirt is definitely not tight but it sits correctly now, and is still really comfortable, even on stonking hot days.

I opted for a slash pocket instead of an inseam pocket in the one side seam because I like them better, and because it’s much easier to sew French seams that way. The fabric is 100% linen from Sewfisticated; it was lovely to sew and finish.

It’s also quite light, so I gave it a nice deep double-fold hem, added tricot interfacing to the button plackets, and lined the waistband in cotton for stability. I use this interfacing roll in white, and while nobody’s ever tried to sponsor me, if they want to, they can, and I promise I’ll rename my apartment Fusible Tricot Interfacing Rolls Stadium.

The buttons are my laser-cut jaguar buttons. I rinsed this batch before varnishing and they came out a little blonder as a result.

I started with two and a quarter yards of the linen and I had to enough left over to try out something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. It’s a tank based on the Peppermint button-front dress, a free pattern. It’s actually just the size E facings from that pattern extended, with the button placket extension added to the new fronts.

I couldn’t fit the back on the fold but I was able to cut it in two halves with the center seam on the selvedge, which is my favorite fix for an unplanned straight seam! Pre-finished, baby!

I was originally confused by steps 12 and 14 (*NOTE: these are sequential steps in the directions, since step 13 appears before step 12. I don’t make the rules), where the facing edges are attached to the plackets, but once it clicked it was pretty terrific. Low-bulk, super neat, and well worth applying to other projects. Even if you never make this pattern, it’s probably worth reading the directions for that step.

This tank also got laser-cut buttons and functional buttonholes, though this unshaped version can go off and on without touching the buttons. It’s not my all-time favorite tank but it was a really fun sew!

I’ve been having kind of a dud-ly sewing season lately, so it’s nice to add a couple things to my summer wardrobe without any mixed feelings or regrets. This just confirms my suspicion that linen makes everything better.

What a breezy and often expensive non-surprise!

–

Pattern: based on Tessuti Madden skirt

Pattern cost: NA

Size: fits waist measurement 31.5” – 32.5”

Supplies: 2.25 yards of navy linen, Sewfisticated, $22.48; thread, buttons from stash

Total time: 6.75 hours

Total cost: $22.48

 –

Pattern: Peppermint button-front dress

Pattern cost: NA

Size: E, facings as a tank

Supplies: leftover linen; thread, buttons from stash

Total time: 4.75 hours

Total cost: $0.00

OshKosh B’Gosh B’gone?

For a while I’ve been thinking about making a new, improved set of PA Turia dungarees. I decided my next pair would use stretch denim, and I was convinced I wanted them to be blue. Not black or indigo, just true blue, so when I finally found some blue (ding!) stretch (ding ding!) denim (ding ding ding!) at this Etsy shop, I happily ordered 3 yards. When it arrived (unbelievably quickly, props) I looked at the blue denim in front of me, this thing I wanted for so long. And I couldn’t remember why.

So: wrong side! It’s a highly acceptable blue-grey! It’s preferable to the blue, but I can’t say I would have picked it otherwise. This color situation was the first indication that my sewing caught the prevailing spirit of the times. These dungarees were ever-so-slightly doomed.

But because I didn’t know that yet I launched into these with a can-do spirit, making some changes I’d been hoping for to the pattern – I split the back horizontally at the waist, lengthened the legs 2” from the bottom, added a waistband, and planned a side-button closure. I decided also to change the pocket to a single-layer pocket instead of a patch pocket.

My ‘drafting’ was limited to the rectangles for the waistband pieces and the fly shields, and the fly extensions for the sides. The waistband was meant to serve three purposes: to allow more room for vertical girth (my original corduroy pair is a bit binding when I bend), to strengthen the connection between the bib and the pants, and to finish the waist neatly. All three purposes were satisfied, but me, not so much. I figured a waistband would add vertical space without having to edit the rise, and this is both true and sort of missing the point of adjustable straps. Surprising exactly one person – myself –everything sits correctly only when the straps are yanked way up. BY THE WAY: one of my straps is twisted in every photo, but this is called cinéma vérité.

Anyway, I gave myself more than enough height, but I was surprised by width. I knew that once the side button closures were sewn, it would be impossible to change the outseam seam allowances. This worried me a little because I remembered having to take in my first pair over and over, but Lia-from-the-past had already trimmed the paper pattern pieces (without noting having done so, LIA!!) so when I did a quick baste-fit they were actually a little snug. I ultimately used a 5/8” sa on the crotch and inseams, and 3/8” sa on the outseams.

I’m not singing praise songs about these overalls, but I am feeling pretty good about the way I sewed my side button closures! I read this CC post about adding hip buttons to Jenny overalls, and this True Bias Lander pants button fly tutorial, and mashed those up to find a technique that would work with my pattern pieces.   

I’m proud of that. It’s not perfect, but it works. In a case of ‘do as I say, not as I do’, though, don’t forget to interface the noted pieces. 😬

By the way, I finished my pocket edges by double-folding the fabric to the back; the extension was shaped like this.

It wasn’t until I took my front leg pattern pieces to the ironing board to press those edges in place that I noticed I had cut 2 the same instead of mirrored. Happily, I had just enough fabric to recut one front leg, but it obliterated my leftover yardage. Still! I’d rather use it if I’ve got it! I used the extra wrong leg to cut some smaller pieces, like the fly  shields and bib pocket(s).

I actually made 3 bib pockets and selected none of the above. This stretch denim was too spongy-springy to press really nicely into shape, and my pockets looked bulky and uneven. Well, two of them did. The first one might have been perfect, but I trimmed the seam allowances way too aggressively and burst through a corner, so the bib has no pocket. It’s wide. It’s bland. It’s too late now!

My front and back bib edges were serged and folded once, then sewed down from the wrong side.

I didn’t clip the curves on the back, but the stretch compensated for that. I don’t love this denim, but credit where credit is due: the bobbin stitching looked just as nice against it as the topstitching, which is never guaranteed. Also, I ran out of tonal thread at the end of the project with just 2” left unsewn on one leg hem, but I shrugged and used the wrong color, and hey, who can tell!

Sewing overalls is a lot like sewing pants, plus extras; it’s not a very speedy process, and I kept setting myself back. Still, after my cutting and construction woes, I was eager to try on the finished pair. They feel terrific. I think they look awful.

The crotch is too long. The back is buckling. They’re snug in a band across my lower belly, but loose above and below. Also, I think these are just fighting my form. I tend towards the in-and-out-y, but these make me feel like a Minecraft person, boxes stacked on boxes. Part of me appreciates that blocky simplicity, but I also feel like a Wisconsin youngster with Bigs disease* (*okay so, a long time ago I mixed up the plots of the Robin Williams vehicle “Jack” and the Tom Hanks movie “Big”, neither of which I’ve actually seen, but I committed then and I’m not backing down now!!).

That said, I gave them a day’s grace and they’re almost too comfortable to believe – soft and stretchy, warm but not heavy. I marked the giveaway reason on my sewing spreadsheet as “fit” before I even strung the buckles, but now I’m not so sure. In the words of The Clash, “Don’t you know which clothes even fit me?”

And to paraphrase them further: should these stay or should they go?!

–

Pattern: PA Turia dungarees

Pattern cost: NA (repeat)

Size: 40 outseam, 48 crotch and inseam; extended legs 2″, split back and added front and back waistbands (finished width 1 1/2″), added side button fly extensions; used 3/8″ seam allowance on outseams

Supplies: 3 yards of 50″ wide 12 oz. true blue stretch denim, $42.00, etsy (AdFabric); thread, hardware from stash

Total time: 9.5 hours

Total cost: $42.00

Wooly Cornflakes

I seem to be the recipient of a cute little curse where every elastic-waist pair of pants I make is dressier than my jeans. Is this because I ignored an old woman at a business-casual well? Who can say!

These are my ES Clyde pants, a pay-what-you-wish pattern. It’s a minor miracle that mine are here, not because there’s any particularly tricky steps when sewing, but because I was convinced I didn’t have enough fabric. I kind of didn’t, but not in ways that ended up mattering!

Somebody’s pattern review somewhere said that they easily made a pair from 1.5 yards of 60” wide fabric, and I can’t remember who this person was but that is not something we have in common. I assume they also made a size 12, or I wouldn’t have risked it – though I found when transferring the pattern to fabric that I had inexplicably printed and assembled a 12 tall, so that might have something to do with it? I snaffled a Clyde pants pattern in that weird free distribution window around early 2021, if I remember correctly, so my memories of picking a size are a little foggy. By the way, I’m not, and neither was I in early 2021, tall.

1.5 yards was definitely not enough yardage for me. Hypothetically, let’s say I fit all the leg panels side-by-side, 6 in total. (I did not.) The pocket backs and facings still wouldn’t fit on the length. Realistically, let’s say I fit 5 of the 6 leg panels side-by-side. (I did.) There was no way, at any angle, that the 6^th piece would fit. Cue: moping.

On day 3 of the mopes I remembered reading a online discussion about piecing the crotch hook on pants, and after some adjacent but not-quite-relevant results (no Google, I don’t need instructions on how to give someone a piercing with a crochet hook) I turned up this PatternReview.com thread. I followed those instructions pretty exactly, letting the pattern piece overhang the fabric, rough-cutting a scrap  larger than the overhang with a selvage edge, and matching and sewing the selvages before cutting the hook. Next: rejoicing! I had all 6 panels! And I would defy anyone to notice this seam without my active participation.

I also had to piece one of the pocket backs (I almost got away with it, too, but the seam just peeks out) and use a different scrap fabric for the pocket facings. This cotton has a very different hand than my main fabric, but it sure was ~*available*~.

This main fabric, by the way! It’s a wool blend with a tiny red-and-green check that I think merges into a nice soft cocoa color at a little distance. For topstitching I used a spool of plum-colored thread that I don’t remember buying, with olive green in the bobbin; they’re both pretty dang subtle but the plum is practically invisible. It was like sewing a dazzleship. The fabric was soft and drapey on the bolt but it pressed crisply, and the finished pants have a little more ‘crunch’ than I anticipated, almost cornflakey. No leftovers.

The instructions are good, probably! They’re certainly lavish! I just used the “Quick Start Guide” and loved it. They’re really clear about the seam allowances (mostly but not exclusively ½” – just narrow enough that I don’t feel guilty serging instead of French seaming) and the steps are intelligently sequenced. I followed them to the letter until sewing the elastic. I tried their way, but I didn’t like it, so I unpicked and sewed a typical casing instead.

I used one line of topstitching instead of two because I was running out of thread. 2 lines would have been handsomer on this wide elastic, though.

And the finished pants? Well, they exist, which was definitely in doubt for a minute there. But they’re a little too trim and tailored for my preference. I like the slouchy, relaxed fit most sewers achieved elsewhere. I have a few options if I want to make another pair, including reprinting the pattern in a larger size or using a 3/8” allowance on the long seams instead of ½” (with 3 seams per leg, not counting the crotch, that’s an extra ¾” of space per thigh). I shudder to think of printing this again (my ink! Oh woe, my tape!), but that’s probably the best choice, because, again, I am not tall. These are quadruple-cuffed!

And finally there’s the obviously correct next step, which is to surrender to the inevitable and use linen. A-doy.

In the end – my end, specifically – nobody is going to notice the piecing on the back leg except me, and I’ve come to appreciate it. It’s like a tag telling me which side is the back. This is the first pair of pants where I’ve felt serious doubt on that point.

Is this because I offended an old woman at a vertically-symmetrical well?! I have got to stop hanging out at wells.

–

Pattern: ES Clyde pants

Pattern cost: $0.00

Size: 12 tall

Supplies: 1 1/2 yard of cocoa wool blend, Sewfisticated, $10.49; 1 yard of 3″ wide elastic, Sewfisticated, $0.99; thread from stash

Total time: 6 hours

Total cost: $11.48