Archive of ‘Pattern Fitting’ category

Fixing a Rise: Scallop Shorts Alteration

Howdy all, hope you’re having a beautiful week! We’ve been having mad storms here the last couple of days, and hallelujah, I’m so happy it’s raining. Our dogs, on the other hand, get nervy with all the thunder and lightning, and last night the youngest one bolted out of our gate, disappearing for SIX hours. Nothing like running around in Texas-sized tree-felling winds, yelling out “JAKEY WAKEY!” all over the neighborhood (Jakob, Jake, Jakey, Lanky Jakey…)! Turns out he found his way to our friend’s house several blocks away to huddle on the porch–smart border collie.

Anyways, a few readers asked for a visual of how I adjusted the front rise of my scallop shorts so I used a little rainy day to put together a pictorial. I know it’s hard to explain those things in words! I dug out my muslin to give you an idea of what was going on. I don’t know what was going on with this pose, my awkwardest attempt to keep the side seams closed while simultaneously keeping my arms out of the picture:

Unfortunately, I adjusted my muslin before I could get pics, but this is what it looked like after doing a minor version of my adjustment–you can see the residual problem and it got even better after I did more adjusting.


* Front rise is too long (hence the horizontal folds or droopiness).

* The curve or dip point of the front crotch seam stands too far away from the body. The radiating folds that extend from it feel restricting.

It seemed the folding was due to both excess vertical length AND stress from being too tight around the hips. So here’s what I did:

1. Drew in a hip line. There wasn’t one on my pattern, but I marked the spot on the center front of my muslin where the fold was, and used that as the hip line.

2. Then I extended the hipline about 1/2-5/8″ from the original edge and marked a dot. I tested this by re-sewing the curve 1/4″ into the seam allowance on my muslin, then re-drew it further out for the final version.

(If you want to get really precise, you can mark in the seam lines, and measure out from that line, then re-draw the seam allowances.)

3. Then I re-drew the curve to meet that dot. The curve is now shallower, which also makes it shorter. You can also see that the front hip width has now gotten wider as a result. By re-drawing that curve, I gave myself about an inch total more hip room.

4. I still had a bit of excess length in the front so I took out a wedge along the waistline, about 3/8″, starting at center front and tapering to nothing at the side seam.

I’m pretty happy with the way it all turned out! Has anyone else battled this kind of fit issue? I’d love to hear what has worked for you.

I hope that helps!

Balloons and Cocoons

My first reaction to this coat was a bit melodramatic. Whoa, this coat is a balloon!

I knew what I was getting into, the pattern’s line drawing makes it clear that this is a cocoon-like coat. (I love that Burda calls it a “hinted boule silhouette”.) Within minutes I was pinning it in all over the place to reduce some of its volume. Although I finished this peach version of the shell a week ago, it took a couple of days of stepping back, taking a bunch of pictures, letting it have some quality time on the dressform to change my perception. I’m not going to be walking around with my arms splayed out like I do when I’m examining fit, thereby exaggerating the shape.

Of course, my “muslin” fabric is also exaggerating the shape by the way it floats a bit stiffly. The “suede” was a bit of a mystery buy dug out of Joann’s mega-clearance pile in the home dec section, but it was perfect to try out sewing on a nappy fabric. This stuff is so groovy that I might even transform it into a coat of its own. (Perhaps it’s something like polyester microsuede? It’s a woven with a satin-y reverse.) It has the softest feel, and in one of those peachy coral colors that can never do wrong by me.

An interesting thing about this pattern is the fact that the armholes are quite low, landing almost an inch above the bust dart. I should probably check and see if that is typical for one of Burda’s raglan-sleeved coats. Normally that’d make for some immobilizing sleeves, but there’s a lot of room to move around: the ease right above the bustline is something like 13 inches!

The smallest size on the pattern sheet was a 38 so I graded down to a 36 and I’m glad I did since this style has so much room. (Are you curious how to grade down a multi-sized pattern? I figured it out from this PR tip about grading up a size–I just did the reverse.)

My actual coat fabric is very soft and drapey and so I think the whole shape will relax into gentle folds. I’ve been lusting after Persian lamb fabric since last winter; something about it reminds me of my grandmother’s couches. I’d describe it more as a velvet than a faux fur, with rippled curly pile. (And no, it’s not real lamb fur, although apparently there is a real.)

There are a few little changes I need to do before cutting into my “fur”. The original pattern has an exposed zipper closing up the front. Since I’m replacing the ribbon trim with a leather binding I’ll have to sew the zipper into the binding somehow. That’s this week’s puzzle! The sleeves were shorter than I expected, but now that I’m looking at them in pictures, I might even shorten them more. It helps balance out the proportions and a wrist-length sleeve would probably just look overwhelming. I really don’t want to turn into Blueberry Girl. I’m okay with “boule”. French just makes everything sound better, no?

A Tale of Two T-shirts

While working on my kimono-sleeved top for the PJs, I got a bit obsessed with t-shirt shaping. I should warn you before diving in any further–there are enough stripes in this post to make your eyes buzz.

It’s been a long while since I made a plain ole t-shirt. I mean, what could possibly be easier than a t-shirt? Right. They’re not rocket science but just start sewing and watch how even the most basic clothing turns into a scintillating dissection of fit and abstract shapes.

In the spirit of pattern face-offs, I decided to give a go at mocking up two different tee patterns. Long, long ago, there was the Lydia pattern. I’d just discovered BurdaStyle and the pattern was free and I was dying for a new stripey t-shirt. I love me a stripey knit. It wasn’t long before I was off and messing with the pdf in Illustrator turning the pattern into everything but a t-shirt.

Problem is, I never properly fitted it the first time around, sewing a 38 when 36 is usually a better Burda size for me. I had two yards of the original stripey knit left over, enough to squeeze in two tees. It was cheap and pills like crazy and will never become that striped tube dress. So side by side, here is Kwik Sew 3338, a popular tee pattern, with Lydia on the right:

The two sizes (36 in Burda, Small in Kwik Sew) were close enough in measurements, but there are little differences that stack up.

First up, the lengths. The Kwik Sew is designed to be shorter, hitting more at the hipline, while Lydia falls below the hip. The only changes I made to both patterns was to shorten the neck to waist length by an inch. Even after that, the Burda waistline is still a bit lower than mine (and an inch lower than Kwik Sew’s).

In both patterns, reducing the front and back lengths above the waist was a good idea, but I should add length into the waist-to-hip area. (Short torso, but high waist.) Shape-wise, the Lydia has a much more curved waistline and flared out hip. Which suits my hippy pear self. The Kwik Sew wants to hike up to my waist. This wouldn’t look so goonish if it was a tight-fitting t-shirt:

Now the sleeves. Burda tends toward high sleeve caps are high and narrow armscyes. Even this t-shirt has sleeve cap ease (about 2 inches of it!) The KS has no cap ease. You can see the difference in how the shoulder looks:

I guess it all depends on what kind of look one is going for. Burda’s tall sleeve cap looks good when the arms are down, a nice sleek shoulder and top of the arm. But just try to raise the arm and see what happens. Immediately the top of the sleeve puckers and pushes up, while the under arm feels a bit restricting because it falls so far below the armpit. This is more noticeable in their woven patterns.

(And if you really want to get into sleeve pattern geekery, check out this post at Pattern School. He writes a bit about the the visual and fit effects of sleeve angle–and indirectly, cap height–in stretch patterns.)

Aside from the height, the shape of the front and back sleeve cap made a difference in fit. The KS sleeve is almost symmetrical front and back, while the Burda slopes slightly to the front:

I think that’s why the KS tee has some jiggy going on around the front armholes. This is after I’ve pulled it down straight (after wearing it for 10 minutes or so these wrinkles pull from the neck more):

It’s obvious from looking at the stripes in the side view that I could be a candidate for forward shoulder adjustments, which could fix the pulling as well. Still, I’d love to know whose arm/shoulder is shaped equally in front and back like the KS pattern. I’m guessing a lot of people think they have forward shoulders when perhaps a pattern is just too symmetrical to start with?

Finally, the back. The KS definitely fits better in the upper back.

{edit: lydia is on the right}

Are those folds around the Lydia armholes from excess upper back width? Length? Armhole length? All of the above? I don’t know–but I do wish it was a little sleeker back there. Its shoulder width is slightly longer than the KS shoulder as well. I’m wondering if I should unpick my binding and see if that changes how the shirt relaxes.

The rest of the differences are just in style. The Lydia is meant to just skim the body, not fit tightly. The Kwik Sew is slightly slimmer. I like the neckline of the Lydia better–crew necks make me feel kind of boyish–although necklines are interchangeable. The Kwik Sew has unique little feature in the form of a hidden bust dart that is eased into the back. This probably adds a bit of length and better fit for those with bustage. I personally need that length and width in the hips, which are four inches wider than my bust.

Overall, the Lydia wins my favor, if I could fix the back. Or maybe morph the two to get the best of both worlds.

Well then, I think I’ve thoroughly scratched my obsession of the month! (For the moment.) Any t-shirt fitting gurus out there care to comment, or have a preference?

Sencha for a Small-er Bust

Finally, after a week or so of pattern tracing and cutting I started in on a few muslins over the weekend. (My multiple-pattern project is going great except–big except–I have little piles of patterns everywhere–which could make things get chaotic fast. I really need some hangers or clothespins because I don’t want to fold them up.)

First up is the Sencha blouse by Colette Patterns. Here is what could happen when one picks a sewing pattern by bust width:

Hilarious, right? I’m sure there’s some sort of style in this. (I had no one to help me pin the back, but I don’t think it would’ve pinned shut anyway!)

Many patterns recommend picking a size based on bust width, and according to Colette Patterns that would put me at size 0, their smallest. I knew that was silly as I was tracing it, but I decided to make a muslin out of the 0 just to see what would happen. (My Lady Grey coat started out as a size 4, with some bust alterations.)

It’s a good example of how picking by bust width might get one into shoulder trouble. I’ve read on blogs that Colette Patterns are based on a C-cup. That tells me that a 33-inch bust would correspond with a 30-inch upper bust (mine is 32). What I don’t know–outside of measuring the pattern itself–is the shoulder to shoulder width for each size. Obviously my shoulder width is at least two sizes larger than Colette’s proportions for my bust size–I can’t even tell you how painfully small these cap sleeves are–hard to see from the photos but they barely go over my arms.

As darling as they are, it’d be awesome if Colette included more measurements in their patterns. I’m sure larger bust ladies need them, too, because not every larger-busted woman has large shoulders. The only patterns I’ve used that do include more than the usual bust/waist/hip (and sometimes) back length are Burda and HotPatterns. Hotpatterns really goes into detail, which is very helpful when picking out sizes.

So back to tracing another size, most likely a 4 to fit my shoulders and chest, and doing an adjustment in the bust area. I’ve got some big plans for this pattern if I can get it fitting correctly–a top secret design I’ll share soon!

Mise en Place: For the Love of Pattern Proofing

A friend of mine is a white-board kind of gal and she convinced me I needed one to organize my weekly schedule. Unfortunately, it sat in my office looking all blank and sad and dusty until last week, when I decided to “diagram” my Mise en Place project into stages for each of the eight garments.

My first stage is done! This part was all about preliminary pattern work, like tracing, proofing the patterns, cutting them out. Any major adjustments, like design or fitting changes, will come later, at least with those I’m going to test out in a muslin. My workflow went a bit like this:

I trace almost everything (unless it’s a one-size pattern, but even then I inevitably hack the pattern later and wish I had the original to compare).

Have you ever used transparent architect’s vellum paper (on the right in photo)? I love drawing on the stuff, but it’s amazing for traced patterns and is about the same weight and crispness as kraft paper. I have some cheap tissue paper for tracing but it’s so flimsy and vellum is stiffer. Granted, it’s more expensive and often quite narrow (like 18 to 30 inches wide) but I’ve managed to squeeze what I can.

I like some patterns–especially those I’ll use again–to be to be on even heavier paper. The manila/oak tag rolls used in pattern-making are the best. They are often sold in large expensive rolls but I’ve also seen this paper sold by the yard and in smaller rolls. Another less expensive option is 60# weight or heavier drawing paper by the roll, which most art stores carry, and I’ve been using to trace frequently used pieces like facings, belt loops, waistbands, etc.

Drafting any needed facings or extra pieces
Some patterns needed additional pieces. For example, this Burda piece from my shorts pattern is really two pieces in one–pocket and pocket facing, with 2 separate seamlines–and even though Burda says that I should cut four of these, I really need two of one and two of the other. So I traced and cut 2 separate patterns.

The Burda pattern also includes curved waistband pieces for front and back. Just in case, I want the option to have a slightly smaller inner waistband so that the seam rolls to the inside. (Kinda like the same idea as having a neckline facing that rolls to the inside.) So I traced off 1/16″ from the top and made separate inner patterns.

I think I’m going to have to draft some kind of facing for the Lonsdale dress. My riviera linen fabric is lovely but unfortunately feels a bit heavier than I’d hoped. The bodice of the Lonsdale is double-layered so I have to work out how to use one layer while keeping the inside neat.

Changing the seam allowances
About a year ago, I started trimming down seam allowances to 3/8″. This one pattern-tweaking task has really eased my sewing and I can’t recommend it enough. Sometimes I’ll even go down to 1/4″, depending on the seam. Unless I want a French seam, I’ve discovered that smaller seam allowances make for better sewing accuracy, and eliminate most of the need to grade, trim or clip seams after sewing (one of my least favorite tasks). I know some folks like to have the extra for fitting but I realized the 90% of the time my garments end up too big, not too small, so I gave up the idea I needed the extra fabric. I enjoy having all my paper and rulers out… and have gotten pretty fast at ruler-ing around patterns, adding or subtracting seam allowances.

Walking the patterns
I like walking patterns along the seamlines, which tells me 1. where I’m going to have to ease, if 2. the notches match, 3. if there are any patternmaking errors. If there are, at least I don’t pull my hair out thinking it’s my fault seams are weirdly un-matching.

Notching and hole-ing
In addition to good paper, these have to be my favorite patternmaking tools, a screw punch and a notcher:

Marking darts and buttonholes is so much easier if there’s already a hole in the pattern. Just lay the pattern on the fabric, stick a chalk pencil in the hole and you’re done. No need for tailor’s tacks or wax paper shenanigans. Well, I know some like doing it that way but I tried tailor’s tacks once and I went crazy. Slightly off the subject, but have you seen this tailoring video in which a pattern is marked entirely with thread? Old-world tailoring is romantic, but I find that thread-tracing seamlines takes five times as long as just having accurate, and small seam allowances–it’s nearly impossible to miss the seamline this way.

(I use the notcher because I chalk around my patterns, and need to chalk the notches, too. I have had such terrible cutting results, especially with knits, when cutting around the actual pattern.)

So that’s about it. I could probably sit waist deep in paper and tools forever; I just love imagining how flat shapes become 3-D, even dream about it sometimes. But it’s time to move along to testing stage; both my silk tank and the Sencha blouse need muslins (with the others I’m going to fit with the method called fingers-crossed-and-hope-it-works).

Silk Tank Pattern in Need of Fitting Advice

Thanks to a little time alone at home, I’ve been able to get most of the patterns for my project traced, cut and prepped. I’m still waiting on the Sewaholic pattern, which is in the mail and will have to lag behind the others. There is just one pattern left that is causing me a little bit of head-scratching–the pattern for my white silk tank top.

Here was my initial version, back in May, in a red silk charmeuse.

The pattern started out as Kwik Sew 3795, which I chose for its a-line tent shape, but I wanted my tank to be 1. much shorter, and 2. have higher armholes.

Once sewn, I also realized I wanted a deeper “u-shape” to the neckline. It is a bit too wide for me and makes me look rather broad shouldered, which I am. While I’m at it, I may make the straps wider, but before I do either of these design changes, the fit needs to be better.

Now that I have worn my red tank about 10 times, I know it is too tight across the upper bust. It has almost no ease and is so tight that the front hemline creeps up about 1 1/2 inches higher than the back. To me this says I need more length and/or width for the bust. I’m guessing that by raising the armhole, I removed some of the necessary ease that was provided by such deep revealing armholes.

The horizontal line is where the tightness is happening, and the diagonal lines highlight actual draglines from the front being pulled up. I’m too lazy to take a better picture of me in this, but hopefully this makes sense.

Any fitting experts have some advice on this? I could just go with a bigger size, but then I would have to redraft all my armhole changes. That really isn’t a biggie, but if you have some advice on this, I’d love to hear!

Oh, and this top has no darts.

Mise en Place: the Patterns

As I wrote in my last post, I’ve created my own little summer challenge as an experiment in fun and efficiency: I’m basically working on several projects at once, but doing similar stages all at once so that I can concentrate on, learn and enjoy these tasks for longer periods of time.

The patterns include a couple of things that were originally on my summer sewing list, as well as late inspirations brought on by the heat-wave-mid-summer-Texas blues.

1. Peasant top and skirt, inspired by this Salvatore Ferragamo set. The pattern for the top is a 1970s Simplicity pattern and for the skirt a hack from a Burda mag pattern:

2. Silk charmeuse shorts (a holdout from last summer), from Burda June 2010.

3. White silk charmeuse tank, using the same pattern as my red tank.

4. Pinup Girls Linda bra (another holdout from last summer). I should mention I’ve never made a bra!

5. Hotpatterns Metropolitan Good Times Dress. This is for a friend.

6. Hotpatterns Riviera Cote D’azure Dress.

7. Colette Patterns Sencha blouse. I wasn’t particularly drawn to this blouse but have ulterior motives for at least fitting a test garment. It might serve as a Franken-piece for an ambitious fall project. More to come on that later.

8. Sewaholic Lonsdale Dress. This is the dreamiest maxi dress pattern I’ve seen in a long time, so I couldn’t resist ordering it. Alas, I don’t think I will be able to participate fully in Tasia’s sew-along as I’ll be on holiday but I may get close to wearing it this summer!

Mise en Place: a Project

Both my husband and I work at home, and pretty much make up our own schedule–which in the beginning was a beautiful and freeing thing. Little did I know how crucial it was to learn about myself and time management. We are both the sort who often come out on personality tests as extravagant starters, collectors and visionaries–i.e., classically inefficient people.

This past year I wanted to make some radical changes in my schedule, and as a writer I wanted to include more blogging (which I never really did in earnest before), both at this blog and others that I’ve started. I quizzed some of my business-owner or otherwise brilliant managerial friends to give me some clues on how they manage their days. Several of these people also work from home. I was very overwhelmed by the both the diversity and number of varying tasks they did daily, including communications (email and phone).

I like to work for very long, concentrated periods of time on one particular thing and am a horrible multi-tasker. I also like to work on things until I “feel” like I am done, not when the clock or other instructions say I’m done. (One case in point is that I even like to write longer blog entries, rather than lots of short ones, but I’m still learning my own best practices here.) I’ve often struggled with this hyper-intuitive and rather tunnel-vision way of working, especially when I was in professional environments. And so lately I’ve been thinking about how to make peace with this aspect of myself and create my own “efficiency model”!

In a recent post at Frabjous Couture, Marina mentioned the importance of “mise en place”, a chef term that means proper prep of both ingredients and tools, having them all ready and “in place” before cooking. I learned that skill well as a former restaurant cook way back in the day–it’s all about time management.

A little bell went off in my head about trying this approach in my sewing–and not just for an individual project, but doing it on a larger scale. What if I had multiple projects ready to go?

Instead of cutting one pattern, fitting, cutting fabric, and sewing, I could work on multiple patterns, get them all prepared and fitted, then move on to fabric cutting of all these patterns, etc. There is some geek in me that would like to sit down at my machine with five (or six or eight) very ready-to-go, neat piles of cut fabric and required notions.

Is that ambitious? Maybe. I’m not on a deadline, thank goodness.

I’d get to concentrate on one particular task for an extended period to time, then move on to the next. I learn much, much better this way. The problem with working on small little tidbits is that one never gets on a roll before moving on to a different type of task or way of thinking.

Clearly I won’t be able to show a finished garment for quite some time (I’m on a holiday in August), but there will be some test garments, and little stories about the projects in between. I’ve divided my work into seven different stages and will return here to post about them. So let the Project Mise en Place begin!

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