Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Quirks of an old sewing pattern and a sewing blog

First, there came a soft, thin cotton fabric that did not make it to my stash.  It was much nicer than I expected for a mere $3/yard, $9 total.  Fabric Mart described it as "Rainy Gray/White/Dark Blood Red/Wheat 100% Cotton Vertical Stripe Weave Shirt Weight".  The cut was slightly over 3 yards and remained very close to 45" wide after washing.  It irons nicely but reverts to a slightly rumpled look after ironing.  Sewing this into a shirt was a break from my Green for Spring theme, but it might fit into my closet considering the recent additions of a black skirt and black pants.  

The pattern is for a shirt from 1977, McCalls 5647.  Although a newer pattern would provide more options in sizing and styles, the vintage pattern was chosen for the short sleeves.  This fabric is thin and might be wearable in the summer heat.  It has pleats and 3 length options.  My earlier success with a McCalls pattern from the same era and in the same size made me think 5647 would be a good fit, both in my wardrobe and for me.  However, the style and cut in this short sleeved shirt were different.  The safe approach was to use this inexpensive fabric and hope for the best.

The sizing in 5647 seemed quite large for a 12, bust 34, but that is deceptive.  There is 10" ease at the front, but there is a 3" pleat.  The back is even smaller.  

Notes:  The stitching line around the bottom of the slash line measures 3/4" wide.  It is an inch high, but that probably does not matter.  Its purpose is to reinforce the bottom of the slash.  The 1 1/4" wide stitching lines below the placket, which are merely the front folded over, eliminate any way to match the stripe unless the stripe pattern repeats at 1 1/4".  The notch on the left front facing and on the front, the matching notch, are cut inward--a bit confusing and thus worth noting.


With the front placket completed, the pocket was attached to left front.  The raw edges on the inside were finished with a little zigzag to stop them from fraying.

Laying the pieces out for cutting was done in the traditional manner, with the stripes running lengthwise on the collar and stand, vertically on the front and back, and horizontally on the yoke.  Pocket stripes are vertical so that the pocket can be  matched to the shirt front.  

On thinking through the pattern construction steps, it is apparent that shirts have few exposed seams, just the ones on the side seam and armhole.  This is an advantage that makes me view sewing shirts more favorably.


Collar construction was tricky.  However, it went on smoothly.  Hand stitching the points on the stand neatened up the attachment to the shirt.  Although the collar facing was secured by topstitching it was also hand stitched on the edge for comfort.  Watching a Pattern Scout video revealed that the collar should be shaped by ironing it before sewing.  The video also included a neat trick for sewing the end of the stand around the placket by tucking the placket inside the stand, sewing the stand ends on the wrong side and then pulling the placket right side out.   


The sleeves are short.  There was enough fabric left for long sleeves, even after cutting out the short ones.  The thought of trying out one of each tempted me, but the short sleeves are fine.  The sleeves have a cuff that is hemmed in a clever fashion, encasing the raw edge of the hem into a tuck that forms the top of the cuff.

Setting in the sleeves is truly old school.  There is only one line of gathering stitches.  A thread is pulled at the top of the sleeve to gather the ease.  The stitching runs around the armhole, with stitch length shortened to form stay stitching in the lower armhole and lengthened to form gathering stitches between the notches.  This is such a novel, multi-purpose approach, much simpler than the current method of sewing in two lines of gathering stitches, one on each side of the seamline, and pulling the loose threads of both to make the easing even.  It worked well.

The shirt was hemmed about an inch shorter than the tunic length.  It is a basic wardrobe piece, but it is too close fitting for my taste.  Also, the pocket is too high.  My dislike of the high pocket is either an indicator that it is just too small for my proportions or it might just be me, because other shirts have pockets at this level.


I could get rid of this pattern.  There is no bust dart.  It is slim-fitting, making me assume that the size 12 only worked in the other pattern because the fit was oversized.  I could make it again, enlarging it as best I can, but I don't love the style enough.

If you are still with me, let me admit another failure.  I lost my blog post editing, temporarily.  I attribute it to a new security requirement.  Thanks, google.  In poking around my blog setting to try to determine the source of the problem, I noticed that I had failed to change my e-mail address--years ago.  All this time, I thought I had turned off the comments.  No.  I just didn't get the messages that I had a comment awaiting moderation anymore.  Now I am debating.  Do I need comments?  Can I even turn them off?  This debate is not major.  If you would like to comment or ask a question, I will get a notification now.  I can review the comment and decide whether to publish it.  I can also respond, most likely by posting a comment below yours, which is no use except to anyone who reads the comments later.  I may be able to respond directly if you have a profile linked that includes a contact address.  I have opened the comments to anyone, but they are moderated.  

My purpose here is to provide a record of sewing up a pattern as an aid in sewing up the pattern a second time.  Increasingly, I find that I remember the pattern steps when I attempt it again.  I do consult my notes here, but my skills are reaching the point where I don't need them.

All to say that if this blogging stops, that doesn't mean I stopped sewing and knitting.  Comments are nice, but I dress for myself now.

Monday, March 18, 2024

Florence Shirt in Crinkle Rayon

Finally, it was time to use the last of my precious fabric purchases, one that is notably made in Japan, a Painterly Tracks printed lightly crinkled rayon challis in light sage/gray sage/off-white.  There wasn't much of this lovely fabric, just 2 yards that was 43" wide, from Fabrics and Fabrics at a cost of $26.60.  After washing, it was moderately crinkled.  Since it will have to be ironed flat to apply interfacing, it was ironed lightly before marking and cutting.  From the beginning, this was intended to be used for a Florence shirt.

The Florence paper pattern came printed on heavy paper.  Cutting it to cut out the pieces is hard on my cutters and makes it difficult to cut a larger size later.  Some say it is intended for tracing, but tracing is not my usual method.  In the end, only one pattern piece, the front, was traced off and altered.  

Initially, since the wrong side of the fabric is white, the fabric was marked and cut out roughly. The upper back was cut along the widest line, while the lower back was cut the full width of the fabric.   These pieces were trimmed during the construction.  The other pattern pieces were not altered as much and were cut to a slightly larger size than the first version.  

There were two factors that shaped this haphazard approach.  One, the sizing on this pattern is very fabric dependent.  Two, if the edges are to be serged after sewing, my preference is for a wider seam allowance than the 3/8" set in this pattern.  Now that it is done, this version has helped me to settle on a size X.  If there is another version, the pattern can be cut to that size.  

The pattern pieces were laid out to take advantage of the large print of the fabric.  The bottom front was marked at 14" wide, or 12 1/2" from the printed lines along the selvage edges, placing these lines along the fold line for the placket.  The side seams were tapered outward.  The back pieces were centered on the central design.  Since the fronts were cut along the selvage, a stretch binding was sewn over the selvage.  The binding looks cute and is similar to the treatment on the blue version of this pattern, where there is bias binding along the placket.


Here is a serged seam.  It is sturdy, stretches slightly and looks nice even though the thread is white in the needles and off white on the loopers. This sample persuaded me to use the serger on a few seams.
 

The stitches are quite tidy, with the pressure adjusted to the recommended position, the differential light (.5) and the tension on 3 for the needles and 4 for the loopers (this last is because of the thin fabric).  

The pockets were cut out of scraps, matching the print on the pockets to the print on the front vertically.  There wasn't enough fabric to match them horizontally.  With this large-scale print, the only option was to use the long piece from the middle of the yardage that was left after cutting the two fronts along the selvage and a piece between the back yoke and the sleeve bands to cut two pockets and two linings.  In this light fabric a two-layer pocket should hold its shape better than a single layer with an interfaced top.

In the photos below, the pocket placement is about 1/2" further away from the center front than the pattern indicates.  That change was necessary to align the print vertically.  If they are placed lower, the print aligns more horizontally and will be about where the pockets sit in the first version.  However, the higher placement means that they sit more where a shirt pocket should sit.  The pockets in the first version were lowered to expose the printed panel. 


Sewing the plackets down surprised me by how much the foldline was thrown off by the seam tape applied to the selvage edge.  The foldline was in the middle of the interfacing.  Fortunately, the interfacing is light enough to fold nicely.  Two layers of interfaced fabric made a good weight for the button bands.  

The back yoke seam was sewn on both the machine and the serger, with both seam allowances serged as one so that it could be pressed up towards the back yoke.  Then the shoulder seams were sewn, pressed open and serged before attaching the collar.  The collar was attached according to instructions.  The collar is prepped by sewing a guide line along the fold line of the front, where the collar will be folded over prior to topstitching it to the shirt.  This nicely helps the fold stay a consistent width but leaves the stitching visible on the edge of the collar.  To satisfy my taste, this guide line had to be pulled out before topstitching.  Even though the collar is placed over the seamline before topstitching, the seamline can still be seen in spots.  It seems the traditional method of sewing the collar to the right side of the shirt and hand stitching the wrong side to the neckline seam produces a neater appearance.  

Sleeve bands were cut from the scant remaining fabric, carefully, in order to place the vertical lines of the print along the edge of the band.   Perfecting them meant changing the seam allowance on one to 3/16" to match it to the other that was sewn to the armhole with a 3/8" seam.  Contrary to the pattern instructions, the bands were sewn to the armhole with it open, i.e. prior to sewing the side seams.  Then the side seams were sewn through the band with the band opened out, flaring the seam out a bit at the edge of the band to allow it to turn under nicely.  Next the bands were folded in over the seam line and machine basted in place. 


After stitching in the ditch to secure the bands and removing the basting, there was a little hand sewing to do on the inside.  Probably hand sewing the entire band down would have been quicker.  There's a lot of videos raving about stitching in the ditch, but it is too visible for me to be completely happy with it.  It is tolerable here only because topstitching the band would also be acceptable.  

Hemming was a creative endeavor.  The fronts are a couple of inches longer than the pattern length and the back..the back hem shaping is simply the curve left after the yoke piece was cut.  The hemline is blended into the front hem but the back is several inches longer than the pattern piece.  The hem was turned under an inch and folded to a 5/8" hem that was topstitched down.  It isn't like the hem of either the shirt or the dress, just somewhat similar to RTW shirts.

The button placement chart for the shirt has revealed itself.  It is on the sleeve band piece.  This pattern company is frugal with its paper.  Since the shirt is longer, it could have taken more buttons.  However, 7 is enough.  There is no need for buttons on the bottom few inches of the shirt.  Most likely, it will be worn as an overshirt and left unbuttoned.  

The back was made much larger with the expectation that once washed, this fabric will crinkle and draw in.  It may then stretch back out with wear.  

With this make, the Florence shirt pattern is adjusted to my liking.  I love all the details, the back yoke, the mandarin-style collar, and the sleeve bands.  I also like the simplicity of the cap or dolman sleeves.  Although I am wearing it here with my new Lodo dress, it will look even nicer with my new black pants.  This shirt took 10 days to make, just working on it a little each day, but not every day, during that time span.  The next shirt I make will have set in sleeves, cuffs, and a full collar.  I wonder how long that will take.

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Lodo Dress on Serger

This project used 1 1/2 yards Birch Fabrics interlock knit, 95% organic cotton, 5% spandex, 58" wide, purchased from The Confident Stitch for $32.85.  The color is a beautiful sagebrush green and the cotton fabric is as smooth as silk, with 50% crosswise and 20% lengthwise stretch.  Unlike silk, it can be machine washed cold and tumbled dry on low without worry.  

My plan was to use the fabric to make another Lodo dress.  Happily, the leftover rayon twill from my vintage dress project worked for the woven facings recommended by the pattern. Testing stitches on my serger and sewing machine proved that topstitching on the machine at 2.8 looked good.  Serging looked good, once the differential feed was adjusted for this thick fabric.  Stretch stitching is advised in the pattern.  Twin needle stitching was also used in my first Lodo dress.  The only problem with that dress is that the back slit ripped out, even though it was sewn with a stretch stitch. I tested twin needle stitching on my sewing machine but decided that it is not really necessary for the facings, since they are woven.  Based on all this testing, here is the sewing plan I developed:

Serge the back seam, leaving a higher slit. 


That didn't work.  The top of the seam fed unevenly into serger and pulled a thread out of the fabric.  Discouraged, I sewed the back seam on my sewing machine with a stretch stitch and walking foot.  That was slow and stretched the seam out, causing the bumps in the seamline in the above photo.

Reinforce the top of the slit with a woven facing, extending the slit. That was time consuming but should resist ripping.  (The right photo is the extension basted into place, the left is after stitching the slit.)  This step should be replaced with a simple redesign of the back pattern piece, opening the back slit higher.  


Serge the edge of the facings.  That worked even though my serging needs more practice.  Sew the neck facings on with a straight stitch.  Worked well.  Understitch the facings with a straight stitch. Fine, wobbly but worked.   

Serge the shoulder seam, seaming through the facings.  To avoid the difficulty that prevented me from serging the back seam, the shoulder seams were basted together on the machine first at 5/8", allowing me to serge at 3/8".  This worked well.   In retrospect, basting where the seamlines meet is probably all I need to avoid the fabric feeding unevenly into the serger.    Sew the armhole facings and understitch. There is no photo of my uneven understitching here.  It is such slippery material, that rayon twill. The serged edge of the neck facing is visible in the photo below.


Serge the side seams. Actually, stitch the armhole at the start then serge because serging that begins somewhere other than the edge of the seam is a little more difficult.  Starting the side seam at the armhole would remove some of the facing unless the knife is disengaged.  Except for the failure to make the sewing line and the serging line meet, the side seams look good.  A few stitches on the sewing machine brought the serged seam and the sewn seam together.  Although the ends of the long side seam stretched out, they were turned under for the hem and don't show. 

Turn the facings to the inside and top stitch.  Worked fine, simple sewing, see above photo.  

Sew the back slit down and hem with a twin needle stitch.  Other than the usual tension questions the twin needle raises because there is a choice to be made between smooth stitches with loose bobbin thread and tunneling with tight bobbin thread, this worked passably well. There were 2 skipped stitches.  :/  Be warned, any problems with twin needles motivates me to get a coverstitch machine next.



All done and the construction is acceptable.  I am going to love this dress for the fabric alone.  It is about 4-6" longer than I would normally make it but I will enjoy every inch of it.  I will hold off posting the modeled photo until I finish my next project, a shirt that might be worn with it, made from the pretty rayon print draped over the dress in the photo above.

These detailed notes will help me remember how to approach my next sewing project.  Combining the features of my sewing machine and my serger in the most efficient manner is the goal.  Perhaps it may encourage serger use.  At the end of this project, the thread on the loopers was low, providing a reason for me to try changing the thread the easy way.  As I had seen online, and as is detailed in the instruction manual for my serger, I just tied the new thread to the old using a "magic" knot (though any tight knot will do) and pulled the new ones through the machine.  These loopers don't seem to have an eye to thread like the needles do, so the knot pulled through smoothly.  

It is all proof that one can buy a serger, use it, change the thread, clean it, etc. without any instruction.  At this point, serger availability has increased (there was a supply problem after the pandemic) and prices have dropped, making it possible for the average sewist to have one.  They are very helpful in seaming knits and checking fraying.

Saturday, March 2, 2024

Dolman Top, Vogue 8952, Serged

You read that right, I now have a serger.  It is a starter model, the same brand as my sewing machine.  It came threaded.  That is a real game changer, making it possible to start playing with it right out of the box, seeing how it meets my needs. One last cool-weather project was next up, a knit top.  Since it is dolman sleeved, meaning the sleeve and body cut as one, it required only 4 seams.  With no sleeves to set in, it was a good project for a first time serging.  

The first step was to prepare my sewing machine for the hemming, the only task it actually had to do.  With a stretch twin needle, a walking foot, and the tension and foot pressure both set to three, the test looked good.  This is a thick pointelle knit that is prone to tunneling with a twin needle.   There was 1.8 yards left at the end of the bolt, meaning I got both 30% off the nearly 2 yard piece and a further reduction on the fraction of a yard for a total of nearly $20.  (The fabric was $20 per yard originally--pretty expensive for JoAnn's.)  However, it is a soft cotton knit in a great spring color and thus worth the price.  

The layout for cutting was tricky.  The combination of the dolman-sleeved pattern, which has the body and sleeve as one large piece, and the fabric, with an obvious textured stripe to match, left only scraps.  They are large scraps, but are so oddly shaped that they may not be useful.  This was definitely not a zero waste project.


After serging the front and back seams, I became cautious and serged the shoulder and side seams with a smaller seam allowance to allow for resewing or reserging.  This initial construction resulted in a neckline that was too wide and low.  Adjustments included taking in about an inch in the front seam at the neck and the same at the shoulders, adding seam tape made from selvedge at the shoulders, and recutting the sides and hem to reduce the flare and length of the back skirt.  After serging all these adjustments, the bottom and sleeves were hemmed on my sewing machine.  

Since the neckline was still low, wide and loose, I opted to add a neckband by sewing it on the machine with a knit zigzag stitch and hand sewing it to the wrong side.  Honestly, I had it set up to attach the neckband on the serger, had it under the presser foot ready to go, and decided against it.   Since there is a back seam, there would have been seven layers of the thick knit fabric at that point.  That would have been way too much fabric to pass under the presser foot.  In a thinner fabric with no back neck seam, serging the neckband on would work.

Now that this top is completed, the pattern's fate is uncertain.  It looks good from the front, but even in a smaller size the back skirt would be too much.  It doesn't flare out as much as it first did before my modifications, and it is about six inches shorter overall than it would be for the size medium.  Still, there is a lot of excess fabric in the back.  


The drape is nice, but it is a bit more than I need.  The dolman sleeves present other issues.  They eat fabric and are bulky under the arms.  But now that it is completed, it has made me realize that I have a couple of printed skirts that look good with it, not to mention the usual blue jeans and maybe my new black pants.  Now that I have that serger going, here comes the rest of my Spring green wardrobe.

Saturday, February 24, 2024

THAT OLD Sewing Pattern, McCalls 8246 from 1950

My motivation for sewing up a version of a sewing pattern that is older than me is weak today.  However, the prospect of removing some equally (not really) old fabric from my stash is encouraging.  The pattern is written for some type of fabric that was made back then.  The equivalent of it doesn't seem to be available now, but it can be approximated.  It is simply a tubular piece.  With the addition of one seam, this fabric should suffice:

Two yards of olive green Lyocell purchased a couple of years ago from JoAnns for $9.84. This may be 90% lyocell, 10% rayon, since there was another listing on their website that seemed similar.  It has a twill finish and should be washed cold and hung to dry.  Luckily, there was a remnant of the same, amounting to 3/4 yard for $1.84. The total cost is $11.68.  There is a button from old button stash, dating back to the same era as the pattern, and recently purchased cotton batting for the shoulder pads.  It is nice that the pattern includes the pieces to construct the shoulder pads.

Cutting was a bit difficult. Between the slippery fabric that is not quite on grain, the sturdy twill that fought the rotary cutter, and the multiple notches, (when cut outward--my preference), each piece is a slow process.  It is amusing that the notches for the shoulder pads are proportionally smaller since the seam allowance is only 1/4".  The tiny notches, so "twee", make these pieces look like parts of doll clothes.  

After Stephanie's exhortations to trace vintage patterns, I feel a bit guilty about cutting.  However, since this is a one-size pattern, the cutting does little harm since both cutting lines are preserved.   After all, if a sewist is using a rotary cutter, having each piece cut out is a time saver.  The only loss is the word "Margin" or "Margen" that is printed outside the pattern pieces.  That term is superfluous in my opinion, especially since it gets cut away.

Sewing began with the body, contrary to the instructions, which start with the yoke.  The front and back tucks were sewn, the gathers placed and then the slit was bias bound.  Applying bias binding around a short slit cut into the front was a bit tricky, but it is mostly machine sewn.  Rather than hand sewing the wrong side as per instructions, this one was attached first on the wrong side and top stitched on the right side.  A little hand sewing finished off the bottom turn after it was mitered in on the machine.


Completing the yoke assembly uncovered an omission in the instructions.  There is no mention of stay-stitching the neck prior to sewing the facing to it.  Then, there is nothing about understitching the facing.  The first is a problem, because forgetting to stay stitch is a repetitive habit for me.  If the facing doesn't fit, it is usually because I did not stay stitch the neckline before pinning the facing to it.  Understitching is second nature to me for some reason--never forgotten.  Otherwise the assembly was per instructions, with the exception of an extra step of machine overcasting the raw facing edge.  The instructions have you overcasting by hand.  Since that doesn't fall within my limited hand-sewing experience, it was deemed inferior to machine in this instance.  The other hand work, tacking the facing down, did fall within my experience.  


Attaching the completed yoke to the body was simple, no difference in instructions from these to current practices--gather, sew, press, top stitch.  There was a little hand sewing of the facings and it was done.  The buttonhole was machine sewn.  The instructions for a bound buttonhole are good but require cutting through the facing followed by hand or machine finishing.   With the thin material, I opted for a machine sewn buttonhole for reinforcement.


Now that the dress is assembled, pockets and sleeves are next.  On  trying it on, I noted that the yoke is too shallow.  Higher smaller busts were the norm back in 1950.  Also, the sleeve openings are tiny, only 6" deep. They have to be slashed at the lower corners, which will add a couple of inches.  

The process confused me twice.  First, I was unsure as to which direction the bias binding on the slit lies toward.  It sits toward the sleeve on the right side and towards the center on the left side (the underside of the closure).  Second, the pocket lining is sewn to the pocket, creating a seam line that will be on the wrong side of the pocket.  Then the pocket is sewn together around all 4 edges, except for a gap at the bottom that is left open for turning.  Instead, the lining could be the same size as the pocket.  That would add a seam in place of the fold on the pocket top.  The pocket and lining could be cut out of one long strip that is folded over to form the lining.  This is something to consider on a second make.  The pockets are stiffer than the dress.  The instructions specify "lightweight hair canvas or cambric" for interfacing.  Based on those specifications and the outcome using featherweight interfacing, sheerweight might be better for the pockets.

Obviously, this a toile.  It costs less than $12, so in spite of the soft and luxurious feeling fabric, it could be another house dress.    It might be fun to redesign this one, adjusting the fit (it is too wide), the neck (it is too high), the wonky closure that doesn't match the edges up neatly, and the stiffly interfaced pockets.  It needs a special fabric that has drape, in a nice neutral.  So for now, it should look as much like the envelope illustration as possible in order to try all the features of the pattern.  Knowing what the pattern will produce is the first step in knowing how to change it.

Much of the reconstruction could be accomplished by adapting the pattern to a flat piece of fabric.  The pattern was written for a tubular material in a way that avoids cutting and seaming what was knitted or woven together.  As a result, the size of the tube is set.  The front and back tucks seek to reduce it some, but it is still too big for most, especially in 1950.  52" is too big for me.  Working with a separate back and front would make attaching the pockets much easier.  The sleeve could be sewn to the dress prior to closing the side seams and the sleeve and side seam could be sewn in one continuous seam.  Additionally, for looks and comfort the yoke should be a bit deeper, the neckline a bit lower, and the closure adjusted.   Length would be much shorter probably, depending on whether it is worn with a belt or not.  

Sleeves were an adventure.  There are three darts at the elbows--tiny darts.  Six dart seams later came the sleeve seams.  The first one was French seamed.  Unfortunately, the frayed edge showed through.  Perhaps the rotary cutter I used made the fabric fray more, or in an effort to be precise, the seam allowance wasn't trimmed sufficiently.  Either way, after hand trimming the second sleeve seam down to 1/8" or so, I realized that it was on the wrong side.  French seams are first sewn on the right side, then on the wrong side, encapsulating the raw edge between the seams.  Since the seam was already trimmed, rather than ripping it out, I overcast the seam allowance.  At least it will let me compare the comfort of an overcast seam versus a French seam.  After all, the difference won't be noticeable from the right side.  In the end, my quickness in trimming a mis-sewn seam resulted in a difficulty in calculating where the actual seam should go after the trimming removed a portion of the seam allowance.  After several reseamings, it finally fit the cuff.


The sleeves I chose are finished with a facing at the bottom.  The others have a zipper.  The zippers would be so cute and practical in the narrow sleeves but this fabric is too soft to support a zipper.  Maybe a zipper will be in the next version.  Now the facings are in and under stitched.  It is odd that the instructions specify under stitching when they don't for the neck facings.  Maybe because the neck facings are hard to under stitch?  The sleeve facings were hand sewn to the sleeve, per instructions.


The sleeve insertion was a little difficult. The sleeve was 2" longer than the armhole.  However, as the pattern instructed, they fit evenly without easing once the bottom corners of the armholes are clipped, opening the armhole by another couple of inches.  A little stay stitching provided some reassurance in the clipping.   The slim sleeves provide a nice contrast to the oversized body.  What they need is a shoulder pad, at least according to the pattern.


The shoulder pad pattern pieces go together to form a pad that is 1 1/2" thick.  That thickness would have made a shoulder pad that was too prominent for my taste.  After altering the pattern pieces, the thickness was 1" fully plumped.  It should reduce some with the weight of the dress.  The pad consists of a layer of stiff linen (substituted for crinoline) and 6 layers of cotton batting.  Since the cotton batting is only about 1/8" thick, there are more layers than the three specified in the pattern.  The layers are all hand sewn together along the edges and the edges of the pad cover are overcast together.  


The second one was done a little more neatly and much more quickly.  They fit nicely.  Even though they are not as thick as the pattern would have them to be, the shoulder pads make a noticeable difference in the appearance of the dress.  However, shoulder pads, especially noticeable ones, are in style now, and not just on the fashion runways.  They are on television shows and fashion sites.  Will shoulder pads appear in everyday wear?  They will when I wear this dress.

It is blind hemmed on the machine, with a little hand sewing to neaten up the tucks.   Not only was the dress cut 6 inches shorter, the hem was a bit deeper.  The overall length is 41 1/2" from the very high back neck.


The belt makes it true to the illustration on the pattern envelope.  However, there is no matching belt, although there is enough material left over to make one.  That's a project for the future, an iffy future.  Truthfully, I will probably find it more comfortable without the belt.


The future of the shoulder pads is iffy as well.  They add something to the dress, but they tighten up the fit on the shoulders a little too much.  It's not a bad look, those nice even strong shoulders.


This is where I give them a shrug, hang the dress in my closet, and move on.  This pattern stays in my collection for now.  It will be fun to make some changes and try it again in a completely different fabric.


Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Leg Width in Simplicity 9272 Pants

Evaluating the utility of pants as part of my wardrobe pointed out a simple fact.  Knit pants are more comfortable than woven pants.  To further test the theory, another pair of knit pants was added to my closet.  This was a quick project made from leftover black summer-weight ponte.  There was just about a yard of the 60" wide fabric left after making the skirt.  The skirt is quite comfortable, but doesn't have pockets.  The pants do.  The pockets in this pant pattern are small, practically half-pockets, but they are large enough for car keys or a tissue--the essential pocket uses--perhaps even a cell phone.  The real advantage to the size is that the pockets do not sit over the middle of the front of the pants where they would disrupt the smooth fabric.  


The pants have an elastic waist with a (optional for me) drawstring.  The drawstring is very cute but would have required a trip to the store for eyelets, an eyelet tool, and black cord.  Rather than interrupt the quick project, I omitted the drawstring.  The only other outstanding characteristic of this pattern is the leg width.  Some who have made this pant pattern have opted to taper the legs.  Some have not.

Initially, I was shocked at how much volume there was in the legs.  Then I checked other pants patterns and found a similar width, about 20".  Now, my legs have no width to speak of.  My body measurements are average, somewhere in the 12 to 16 size range, but my arms and legs are quite twiggy.  For this reason, I wore pants, particularly pantsuits, almost exclusively during my career, mostly with straight legs.  

During the years, pants legs have gone from wide to bell bottom to straight to form fitting and now seem to be going back to straight.  Recently, pants for all occasions were influenced by athletic wear.  In fact, the old sweat pants featuring wide legs gathered at the ankle have been replaced by form fitting legs, almost leggings, with a cuff.  These are called joggers.  It's this style that I think has changed the perception of a properly fitting pant leg.  People expect the leg to taper in toward the ankle in some way, either gradually, like joggers, or suddenly, like barrel-legged pants or harem pants.  Expecting the more modern narrow legs made the relatively straight legs of Simplicity 9272 look really wide to me.


Admittedly, these pants legs look a little tapered in the photo of the front.  From the back, they look like straight legs. This is what bothered me initially.  However, my recent study of vintage patterns has changed my view of pants legs.  Wider legs don't look so strange anymore.  I am quite taken with this image of Amelia Earhart:


Those are just such nice pants!  The way they hang, the break over the shoes, the flat front, the slanted pockets--they have such nice features.  I have no idea what the fabric might be.  The era would have me to think it is wool.  Perhaps it is just heavy cotton, or even silk or rayon.  Regardless, that is the image that made it possible for me to feel comfortable in my new pants.

Additionally, my new sweater feels comfortable, and goes well with these pants.

The sweater was a combination of two patterns, the Fredrika cardigan for the charts and the Ashland pullover for the style.  I have knitted the Ashland before and liked the pattern, except for the wide swaths of stockinette between the stranded portions (that made the fabric pouf out between the patterning) and the steeks (that did not seem necessary).  This one was knitted without the steeks but otherwise followed the shaping for the sleeves.  The steeks are really not needed.  The yarn is all left over from other projects except for the light gray--that was salvaged from an old sweater, one I made several years ago.  The style and the fit was outdated.  Since it was knit without steeks, it could be ripped out to reuse the yarn.

Friday, January 26, 2024

Sewing A Bigger Field Bag, Artist Version

The one field bag that I made last January is great for sock projects.  It has been in heavy use for the year.  In fact, there is a sock project in it right now that will go with me shortly for an appointment that guarantees a little wait time.  However, that project is a small repair that won't take long.  The only other knitting project on the go right now is a sweater.  That project is far along, with the sleeves and body attached together.  It simply won't fit into my field bag.  In order to bring it with me, there must be a larger bag.   I looked at the Town Bag, available like the Field Bag, as a pattern from Grainline, but it has a lot more pockets than I need in a knitting bag.  Realizing that led me to look at the fabric that came with my "artist" version of the field bag kit.  


The kit was a present from Christmas 2022.  This project used the Field Bag pattern again, along with the fabric that came with the kit, a canvas painted especially for the bag.  Additionally, it used a yard of duck cloth for the pockets and lining, a yard of webbing for the handles and a small part of a package of cord for the drawstrings.  The painted canvas was a couple of inches wider and longer than the pattern piece, leading me to believe that it could be made into a somewhat larger version of the field bag.  I was correct, but my math was off.  Using the same size pocket meant that the box edges didn't line up properly.


The pocket seam lines are not visible from the outside because they are sewn to a lining (the Field Bag pattern does not call for a lining).  The lining forms the back of the casing for the drawstrings, making it unnecessary to fold the bag fabric over to from the casing.  That makes the bag a little larger, too.  With all these changes, the pocket portion that delineates the fold lines for the bag should have been made larger.  It wasn't off by much, just enough to make the folding a little cumbersome.  However, the sizing is good.  This larger bag easily holds the sweater.  

The handles work very well. They are easy to grab and just long enough. The drawstring does not draw up much, simply because the painted fabric is so stiff.  The fabric was painted with something other than fabric paint.  The end effect is nice, but the fabric is scratchy and somewhat strange to touch.  Perhaps it will soften with use.  Between the stiffness of the outer fabric and the reinforcement of the duck cloth lining, the bag doesn't fall over, even when empty.

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Sewing the Seventies with McCall's 5678

McCall's 5678 sounds like a made up pattern number--5,6,7,8--really, McCalls?  Maybe it's my lucky number?  However, the next number is not so encouraging.  There are 10 pattern pieces to the shirt, but two are interfacing pieces.  Of course, a standard shirt pattern with buttons, cuffs, and collar will have that many or more.  Since this is a "Henley" style, half-placket shirt, the front is all one piece.  That may make it simpler.  Simpler still is the absence of a pocket.  Never mind.  There's a similar pattern with a pocket.  It has short sleeves, which is why I didn't choose it for this flannel shirt.  This flannel is appropriate for winter/spring as it is a very light flannel.  That brings me to the details about the pattern and the fabric:  an almost flannel from a fancy New York fabric retailer, Fabrics and Fabrics.  


The plaid flannel yarn-dyed cotton shirting, yellow/teal, 4 1/2 yards, 42" wide, was purchased for a total of $37.80. The pattern is actually 1977, dangerously close to the 80s.  Even so, there are at least a couple of reasons to like the 1977 pattern.  For one, it has the cute little rulers printed on the lengthen/shorten lines. 


For another, the notches are marked and instructed to be cut to the outside of the cut lines, just as I learned to do when I began sewing and as I still prefer to do. 


Third, and this may be a dislike, it has the buttons on the right side.  I was going to change it but my general rule for a toile is to first make it as is and alter later to improve fit or correct problems.  As far as the other shirt pattern that is so similar, the one with the pocket, the buttons are on the left side as is usual for women's clothing.  The placement here must be a design choice.  However, the pattern layout drawings for M5678 also have the plackets cut on doubled fabric in some cases, even though the pattern pieces are marked Cut 1.  Since there is that small error in the layout, the reversed placket could be an error as well.  After some consideration, my final decision was to go with it as is.  Here's that other shirt pattern, the one with the pocket, such a cute pocket.


On the plus side of design in 5678, the shoulder seams sit forward and are enclosed in the back yoke.  Also, there's a collar stand but no collar.  It follows my mandarin collar theme.  

After the right placket (button band) was attached, the plaid was matched by pure luck.  Meaning, it matches because it folds over the opposite way than I thought it did.  There's a lot of top stitching on the band, starting with the tab.

In sewing the button hole band, there is a tab that extends over the outside of the shirt, over a box pleat and over the end of the button band.  In this case, the tab should be the same size as the band to ensure it is wide enough to cover the pleats and the button band.  (Yes, this note is here because I stitched it wrong, resulting in a tab that is 1/8" narrower than the band.  I compensated for the difference by making the pleat narrower.)

The pleat hits me right at my waist.  As a result, the fullness from the pleat is somewhat unflattering. It may draw attention to my belly? If so, it could be stitched down for some distance to minimize the effect.

The shoulder seams and collar went together next.  Finally, the sleeves and the hem.  The sleeves were difficult.  In the end, there were three sleeves cut (living up to the name of this blog).  The fabric was a little off-grain.  The grain line on the pattern matched no other lines on the sleeve.  Due to the pattern lines, the plaid on the shirt would not line up with the plaid on the sleeves.  With all these factors, the best solution was to just try to line up the most obvious point.  The first set of sleeves had the plaid lined up at the sleeve seam notches.  However, once they were both sewn in, the more obvious point was the top of the shoulders--especially since one sleeve matched there better than the other.  With a third sleeve replacing the mismatched one, the obvious mismatch is only a little less obvious.  That is enough for me.  My most successful outcome would be to have the plaid line up across the sleeves and the body.  As it is, it appears to line up at some angles and the plaid is matched across the side seams of the body.

The end of this cut of fabric is off grain and won't be made straight.  Probably hanging it to dry was a bad idea.  It must be washed again and dried flat, perhaps after a bit of a tumble dry.  Even then it may not be usable, which is a disappointment. There's enough for a pair of pants or shorts which would be nice to have if this shirt becomes a secret pajama top.  To save more fabric for a pants project and to avoid using off grain fabric in an obvious spot, there will not be a pocket added to this shirt.  It looks a little too busy for one, anyway.

The really cute buttons were a surprise find at my local fabric store.  They are 3/16" too large and a little too thick.  Since they came 3 to a card, I opted to use plain brown buttons for the cuffs.  



The cuffs were cut a little off grain, along with the sleeves.  The cuffs can only match the sleeves horizontally because the sleeve is gathered. The two sleeves almost ended at the same point in the plaid. One sleeve was sewn 1/8" shorter to make the cuff sit at the same point of the plaid.  The cuffs are lined up along the prominent plaid line (the gold one).  

Heavy duty black thread was used for the cuff buttonholes (dark brown buttons) and Coats and Clark dark blue thread for the placket buttonholes (gold and blue buttons.)  My machine seems more prone to error on successive buttonholes.  It might be best to turn it off or at least clear the stitch between buttonholes.  This mostly means that the machine should be watched closely so it can be turned off once it errors.  If it is caught in time, the stitches are easily picked out and the buttonhole can be redone.  This time, there was only a 1/4" of stitches to be picked out.

It is a little 80s.  There's room for shoulder pads, but -- NO.


The hems are not quite straight on grain but look ok.  The pattern instructions call for the hemming first, then turning under the edge of the slits on each side.  I am not sure that this is my preference, but it does hide the edge of the hem.

All in all, it turned out to be one of my better makes, especially in seasonality.  Plaid shirts and jeans was the uniform of the day wherever I went.

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Trying out Simplicity 1887, the pants

Since my original experience with a vintage sewing pattern was very satisfying, I bought a bunch more.  The patterns from the 70's are my home ground, since that is when I first learned to sew.  Besides my familiarity with the older patterns, I suspect that the sizing is a better fit for me.  Mostly, my suspicions are that the length of the skirt and the torso are shorter in these older patterns, while newer ones are sized for taller bodies.  All to say that I am glad to have the option of using patterns from so many different eras and sources.  Sewing has become a nice distraction from life's stressors.

My first choice for vintage sewing fun was a 1950 pattern, McCall's 8246.  Not only does this one predate my other choices, it looks distinctly unfamiliar, right from the start--the fabric.  It was designed for 54" tubular material.  Tubular material is currently available, but it is usually ribbed knit intended for use as cuffs and hems on athletic garments.  There's no information on what tubular material was in the 50s--knit (likely), woven, cotton, wool, or?  With no other guidance than that, I first elected to use a modestly priced cotton flannel for the toile.

It is 3 yards of Shetland Flannel, 100% cotton, made in India, SRKF-13937-12 Grey, Machine wash, cold, delicate cycle, do not bleach, tumble dry low: cool iron, 44"  wide.  Purchased for $6.50/yd, or a total of $17.50 from Hodge Podge fabric shop in Salida, Co.  


Although this thrifty choice would have made an effective toile and been a casual version of the dress, it was too little. There was not enough of this fabric for this pattern, which requires 2 2/3 yards of fabric that is 54" wide or wider.  Although seams can be hidden in the body at the front and back tucks, making it possible to piece the body from two cuts 26" wide, that approach would use all of the Shetland Flannel.   There would be nothing left for the yokes and the sleeves.  Since, admittedly, the flannel is too casual for this dress, that idea was dropped.  

Seeking a good use for the flannel, I read some descriptions and suggestions from sellers of this fabric.  The one that struck me was "pajamas."  Aha.  The idea came to me to continue the pants making and produce pants that feel like pajamas--making "secret pajamas", a term that became popular a couple of years ago, when people were staying home during the pandemic.  Coincidentally, I have a pattern set aside for a skirt that includes pants, rather roomy pleated pants with an elastic waistband.  Not only does it look pajama-y, it will produce a toile that will guide me in the skirt making.

Thus began Simplicity 1887, View A, elastic waist pants with pockets.  The starting size was a 16, the largest size in the size block I purchased--after all, this is a toile.   Even though the fabric shrunk to 42" wide and 2" short of 3 yards long, there was plenty for the size 16 pants cut to the full pattern length (i.e. not shortened).  Leg edges were overcast before sewing together.  Assembly followed the instructions except for cautiously sewing a 3/8" seam at the top of the 4 vertical seams (side seams and center seams).  This resulted in a 44" waist, much larger than needed and too large for the waistband.  

My next step was to sew the standard 5/8" seam in the center and side seams of the pants.  With a 3/8" seam at the waistband side seams, the waistband fit nicely onto the pants and in the end, onto me, due to the elastic in the back.  The elastic is extremely difficult to insert in the two casings by following the instructions.  Whether it was due to the thickness of the fabric, the flimsy elastic, or the tightness of the casing--or the combination of all of those problems, it was hard.  No-roll elastic, a wider casing and starting from the center back instead of the front might work better when I make the skirt.

The pattern piece for the elastic is long enough, probably too long.  With the waist at 32", there was at least 3" extra on the starting end.  Some of that may be because it is underwear elastic, which is more stretchy than no-roll.  It is also more comfy and more prone to twisting.  

Taking up the inseams 1/4" and the side seams 1/2" brought the pants below the waist down to size 14. This is still a very roomy fit with a lot of ease.  The skirt might be best in a size 12, depending on how much stretch there is in the fabric.  The sizing is a little surprising.  Based on my measurements, a size 14 should fit my hips.   The finished hip measurement is 45 1/2".  That's 7 1/2" of ease.  Is so much ease for style, comfort, or movement?  Either reason will do because these pants are truly comfy, warm, secret pajamas.



The pattern leaves the waistband edge turned down and exposed rather than turned up covered by the band.  They suggest machine finishing the edge, but I opted to bind it with some gray seam binding.  Turning it over the edge was a bit tight because it was single fold, but all I had in gray.  


The pants are hemmed at 1 1/4", as recommended, with a blind hem.  They are intended to be ankle length. They are a bit longer on me, with the hem exactly where I prefer it, in the middle of my heel.



Sewing the pants went quickly.  Although the dress could be next, I am considering instead a flannel shirt.  It will be appropriate for Winter through Spring as it is a very light flannel.

Not to worry, That 1950s dress is coming.  I found some 58" wide green lyocell in my fabric stash.  It will serve as the toile of the dress.  This will move the project into my other Spring sewing, which has a theme--Green!  I have stashed four or five pieces of fabric that will bring green to my wardrobe this Spring.

While pondering the possibilities, I had a look through the fabrics I have stashed away.  It adds up to $778 in about 45 pieces.  That's about $17 per project.  It is a frugal amount, but it ranges greatly.  Some pieces are only suitable for toiles, some are quite nice, and some I regret buying. 

And, what did I make in 2023?  The fabric cost totaled $275, producing 18 items, so about $16 each.