Bossing myself

You may recognize this pattern – it’s Vogue 8926, and I sent it off to Sally for our Sew Bossy exchange. I was more than a little envious of her final piece and had meant to sew one up for myself ever since I laid eyes on hers! | Vogue 8926 | Vogue 8926

Based on my own fit quirks, I made the following adjustments to fit my broad/square shoulders and small bust:

  • small bust adjustment, removing 2″ total from the bust
  • square shoulder adjustment

I also lengthened the ties by nearly double and finished the sleeve hems by hand.

The fabric was a gift from Sanae and I made my own binding. I waffled between white and grey binding more than I’d care to admit. Grey won, as per usual! | Vogue 8926 detail

What I like, nay, love about this top is it’s a very simple sew (aside from two pivoted seams) with high style impact. I haven’t seen too many other patterns out there like this one and wouldn’t mind having one or two more of these in my wardrobe. Wouldn’t it be great in white as an alternative to a classic buttoned shirt? | Vogue 8926

I made this top about a month ago, before I cut myself off from any more non-wedding sewing. In a series of escalating (sewing) dares, I found myself making a bra/corset contraption for my sister. My sister possesses a similar figure to mine – broad upper back, smaller bust and rib cage – all of which make strapless designs creep towards the waist. After extensive shopping, all she could find were strapless bras that unflatteringly squeezed her back in order to stay up. I decided to create her undergarment as a time-saving device so we could continue fitting the bodice. I converted the dress bodice pattern, which is bustier-style, into a bra pattern and reduced the ease dramatically as I was using powernet.

As someone who is completely satisfied with bralettes, I was grateful for the bra-making craze that’s swept through the blogging community. I surprised myself by having a basic knowledge of the supplies – I must have absorbed that by osmosis! Big thanks to Cloth Habit’s fantastic bra-making sewalong, too. | bridal undergarment

There’s lots of things I would do differently now that I’ve tried my hand at it, like make it longer, lowering the bridge, using sheet foam instead of molded cups, etc, but I think it’s going to work for our purposes.

Next up, constructing the bodice. Wish me luck!

Something different: a two-piece dressy set

I’ve been working hard to focus on my sister’s wedding dress, but quite a few so-called palate cleanser projects have sneaked their way in. One was directly influenced by my sister’s dress – I’ll be attaching Sewaholic’s glorious Gabriola skirt pattern onto the bodice.

I sewed the skirt in muslin and couldn’t resist trying it on myself. I rarely wear skirts these days, but the instant I put it on, I fell hard for this design. I’d always admired it but just couldn’t imagine myself looking like, well, myself, in it. The muslin was convincing enough to lead me to believe that I should sew up a practice version in appropriately flowing fabric to use during bodice fittings that I could ultimately keep for myself. | Sewaholic Gabriola

Who was I to argue?

After combing the internet and local fabric shops for an interesting viscose print, I surprised myself by settling on a loud floral print. The color wasn’t quite what I’d hoped so I dyed over it with a lovely blue and used the wrong side. | Sewaholic Gabriola

There have been a lot of these gorgeous skirts shared on other blogs, so I’ll just give you my construction bullet points:

  • I changed the front waistband from a rectangle to a curve
  • I did a lapped zipper (stabilized by a silk organza strip) and made the button tab overlap longer
  • I wish I’d stabilized the front and back chevron panels because they distorted over time. The skirt is heavy in viscose and you can still see that those panels can’t fully support the weight of the skirt.
  • Even after grading down a size in the hips, I still had to take some extra width out – perhaps due to the distortion mentioned above
  • By reducing the flare at the bottom of the skirt by a few inches, I was able to sew my skirt on 2.5 yards of 55″ fabric instead of the recommended 3.5 yards.

How could I not put that extra yard to use in a matching top?

I used my sloper and my trusty ol’ Helen Joseph-Armstrong textbook and made a bias-cut cowl-neck top. I love how the dark floral motif looks like a big dramatic necklace. | cowl neck top based on sloper | cowl neck top based on sloper

I think this getup (and maybe even the skirt on its own?) is just a *smidge* too dressy for work so I’m eagerly awaiting the first opportunity to bust it out. Wearing yards of viscose from head to toe is like being swathed in a fluffy dream cloud – certainly something to look forward to. | Sewaholic Gabriola

My sewing recently has been quite practical – coat, jeans, shirts, blue, white, grey. Everything about this project took me by surprise… and I liked it.

Further adventures with shoulder fitting

Goodness, it’s been awhile! Since I last blogged in late February, I started a new job. It’s actually with the same company and team that I left when I wrote this post, but it feels very different and exciting. Nathan and I are working hard to practice what we enjoyed so much when we were both not working – cooking for ourselves, getting enough exercise, and being mindful while I embrace this new, decidedly full-time job.

I’ve been sewing steadily (if a little less frequently) over the past couple of months. Shortly before my post on shoulders, I had started experimenting with fit on a buttoned shirt pattern I’d made a couple of times in 2011 and 2012, McCall’s 6436. Armed with a working diagnosis of my shoulder fit – rather broad, a few degrees shy of completely square, and slightly forward – I decided to revisit it. | McCall's 6436 | McCall's 6436

You saw this first iteration a couple of times in my post about jeans – a sleeveless swiss-dot shirt. When I made it, I was trying out a couple of theories: that I could trace one pattern size as long as I made a major SBA, and that I could adjust for my square, forward shoulders by adding 1/2″ to the outside of the back shoulder seam. It was pretty flattering but I found myself taking shocking amounts of ease from the side seams. (I use the finished measurements when I work with patterns, so normally I’m not surprised by the amount of ease.)

After some wear, I realized the neck was huge – an issue I’d never encountered. | McCall's 6436

Well, I went back to fix my pattern and realized I’d forgotten to subtract out some seam allowance when I converted it into French(ish) placket. The horror! I did take a little more width from the bust, but not nearly as much as I thought I needed to. For my second try, I wanted to try a new variation with a bias-bound neckline. I also cautiously threw sleeves into the mix and cut into some lovely cotton-linen from Sanae. | McCall's 6436 | McCall's 6436

I have very nascent understanding about how sleeves are drafted (although Ikat Bag’s post – holy cow, what a revelation – and the Fit For Real People book have been helping). After removing some width from the bust and raising the arm scye, the sleeves were much too upright and tight (probably also due to the fact that the bodice of this pattern is supposed to work with sleeves and without and I made some adjustments based on the sleeveless version). I used FFRP’s “Very Large Arms” adjustment and it worked perfectly. I’m actually ambivalent on the appearance of the sleeves, but I think they fit pretty well for a first try. And just look at this shoulder seam! Never have I beheld its like on my person. | McCall's 6436

So overall, mistakes aside, I’m excited to say that the fit adjustments I made on this shirt have become my new standards – at least until I learn enough to become dissatisfied with them! (Isn’t that just the way it is with sewing? I love it.) I’ve also started adding 1″ wide seam allowance to any shoulder seams just for good measure; it’s so little fabric but it can make such a huge difference to the fit for me.

I did muslin a bodice for my matron (!) of honor dress using these adjustments and the fit was nearly perfect. Yes, I was shocked. I’m still not sure I believe Fit For Real People when they say that all Big 4, Simplicity and Burda blocks are exactly the same, but I will say that I’ve had success with my two-pattern sample. I did find it surprising that I was able to use one pattern size to get the shoulder fit I wanted, especially after seeing I would need to go up many sizes in the two pattern brands that provide shoulder fit information – Marfy and Style Arc.

How are your fit experiments coming along? Any revelations about fitting shoulders or any other body parts?

Pants progress

My last post dealt with shoulder fit, but I’d like to take a detour to Pants Land (or Trouser Town, if you’re British?)

Last year I made my first two pairs of jeans. The first one was the best-fitting pair of jeans I’d ever worn, and an undefinable and wonderful (to me) style: fitted but not tight, tapered but not skin-tight, ankle-length. They bagged out a little bit with wear, however, especially after I put them on damp. | jeans
The original fit

On the second pair, I got overzealous and took 1/4″ out of the out-seams and tightened up the waistband. They looked good but, creature of comfort that I am, I really didn’t want to put them on. They stayed a dark indigo blue while the first pair earned that oh-so-delightful fading.

Over the year, the first pair started to feel more like the tight pair. I know what you’re thinking, and I thought it, too – I was outgrowing my jeans. Then I held up the first pair to the tight pair, and they were the same size! The denim had shrunk with washings and (very occasional) dryings. | Vogue 1367
The shrunken fit

Both pairs were lovingly folded up and given to my sister, who they fit as originally intended.

After giving the jeans away and a full Marie Kondo wardrobe sort, I was left with two pairs of everyday pants – a lackluster pair of thrifted jeans and my khaki pleated trousers. Right around this time, I’d been casting about for a project after finishing my coat but nothing sounded like fun until the idea of revisiting my jeans pattern occurred to me.

I may have called that pattern “self-drafted” at the time I wrote that post, but “self-cobbled” is more accurate. Now that I’m older and wiser/have read more Helen Joseph-Armstrong, I know that converting a pleated trouser pattern into jeans was nothing short of major pattern surgery! According to HJ-A, jeans have a higher back rise and lower front rise, which I did not take into account in my first two pairs. In fact, I’d reduced the back rise for the trousers. Add my ample rump into the mix and there’s just too much booty.

For this iteration, I added a full inch to the back rise, grading to nothing all the way to center front. I also added 1/4″ of ease to the front and back outseams to guard against future denim shrinking, which can apparently happen over the course of many washings. (I did wash and dry my denim twice this time but who knows if it was enough! I used the leftovers from my other two pairs so I’m suspicious that it’s waiting to do me an ill turn.)

Anyway. I love them. | jeans | jeans

I was inspired by Heather Lou’s Ginger sewalong to use pocket stays, which are amazing because of the extra room for my hands and the cozy stability across the entire front. | jeans detail

I was bolstered up by my success, enough to do some more pattern cobbling, and made a pair of stretch-denim flares with back darts instead of a yoke. I added 4″ length and about 4″ of flare on both sides of the legs. | flared denim trousers

Flares. Flares! Why did I ever stop wearing this wonderful silhouette?

I changed the pockets to a slant instead of jeans-style pockets. | flared denim trousers

And I got terribly lazy and left off back pockets (which are universally credited for “breaking up the expanse” of rump.) I had every intention of making some nice welt pockets, but my fabric was quite thin and I thought the visible outline of pocket bags might be equally distracting. I may still add some sort of classy patch pocket, if such a thing is possible on pants. There is some wrinkling on the back, but it may just be from sitting? I don’t know. This fabric is probably best suited to dresses and the like. | flared denim trousers

I would love to try my new flares pattern in another thicker fabric, possibly as jeans with a yoke. As-is, they have filled a wardrobe gap for me, which is nicer work wear (with a longer top, of course). I’d add another inch of length, too. | flared denim trousers

Hope you enjoyed this detour to Trouser Town! They’ve been a nice simpler sew while I muddle over the fit and design of my sister’s wedding dress… I’m documenting the process but I can’t decide whether to post as I go or plan to summarize at the end, in case it all goes to $hit and we have to buy a dress!


Shoulders: the topic has come up in almost all of my posts recently – coats, jackets, sweatshirts, et al. As I learn more about fit, here’s the question I keep running into: why is it so difficult to find information about shoulder fit?

I used to think I had little to no fit issues, and it’s true that my bust/waist/hip measurements usually fall somewhere within one size of each other. Ignoring shoulders, my measurements would indicate a mild pear shape. My experience with RTW taught me to ignore the tight armholes and straining upper back, and to focus more on a slimming fit through the waist more than anything else.

Now that I’m aware of more than a fitted waist, I’m learning that fit through the shoulders and upper back changes everything. A recent sleepless night led to some late-night perusal of Susan Khalje’s site, during which I encountered a video on choosing size based on shoulder measurements (I can’t link to the video directly, but it’s called Choosing the Right Size and it’s on her homepage). Revelatory, and simple enough – I was completely on board watching the video, until I wondered how she seemed to just know what the standard Vogue shoulder sizes were. Rare, it seems, are the pattern companies that include this information! Measuring once you buy a pattern is an option, but so much depends on the intended style of the garment.

Marfy and Style Arc – both of whom offer single-sized patterns – are two notable exceptions, and I was rather shocked to find that that my shoulders were many Marfy and Style Arc sizes bigger than my bust and hips. I know that Susan Khalje recommends picking patterns based on shoulder size, but with such a dramatic difference, is it worth it? Would picking something closer to my hips and making adjustments be better? To complicate matters further, I’m somehow much broader in the back than in the front, to the point where I’m always surprised to see myself in photos from behind. I’m not the biggest fan of likening body types to sports, but I surely look like the high school swimmer I was!

I used to feel terrible when I didn’t fit easily into RTW. As I get older and sew my own clothing, I’ve been divesting myself of those sad, sweaty feelings and have a hard-won love and appreciation for my physiognomy. Now it’s just up to me to figure out the best techniques for my (quite) broad shoulders. They deserve it. And, someday I’d love to wear a long-sleeved button-up shirt without armpit wedgies.

Readers, are any of you gifted with broad shoulders and backs? Or perhaps you have to make adjustments for narrow shoulders and backs? Do you have any fitting resources to share, or tricks for fitting commercial patterns?

Coat Compendium | Named Clothing Yona coat

I started writing the post about my coat and realized that a lot of the information would be better suited to a list format. So, for those of you who are interested, this is a detailed summary of how I, a complete and utter tailoring novice, dove into the world of coat-making.

I made two muslins for this project using 1″ seam allowances. This gave me a lot of leeway to sort out fit problems, especially for my broad/square shoulders.

Fit changes:

  • Small bust adjustment
  • Broad, square back shoulder adjustment (added 7/8″ to shoulder point of back raglan seam)
  • 1/2″ added to sleeve length
  • Some minor changes to the lower back arm scye

Design changes:

  • 1″ wider lapels & collar
  • 1″ wider overlap
  • 3″ longer length
  • welt pockets
  • 1 piece tailored collars instead of collar and collar stand
  • Button closure instead of wrap | Named Yona coat muslin
Original fit: front | Named Yona coat muslin
Original fit: back

I bought my coating fabric and buttonhole twist locally, and my interfacing/hair canvas at Fashion Sewing Supply on several other bloggers’ recommendations. My underlining and lining were purchased while ago at a local second-hand fabric store, Our Fabric Stash.

  • Wool coating
  • Mid-weight cotton (underlining for body)
  • Muslin (back, raglan sleeve and pocket stays)
  • Hair cloth canvas (interfacing for collar, lapels, hems)
  • Pro-weft fusible (interfacing for facings only)
  • Charmeuse-like rayon/acetate (lining)
  • Buttonhole twist
  • Beeswax (I got cheap/lazy and used an old candle)
  • Button (harvested from my friend’s old coat)
  • Base pattern: Named Clothing’s Yona
Coating and cotton underlining (silk organza not used)

Based on my nascent understanding of tailoring, I would classify the techniques I used as traditional or custom, with the exception of machine-sewing my lining to the facing. My main resource for the coat construction was Tailoring: The Classic Guide to Sewing the Perfect Jacket, but I used a few other resources.

Techniques used:

  • Hand-tailored undercollar and lapels (Tailoring, and some guidance from A Challenging Sew’s post on padstitching)
  • Underlining
  • Catch-stitched seams
  • Welt pockets (Shaeffer, Couture Sewing Techniques)
  • Pocket stay (Shaeffer, Couture Sewing Techniques)
  • Partial bagged lining, except for hems
  • Jump pleat (some guidance from this EmmaOneSock tutorial)
  • Hand-sewn hem (Tailoring)
  • Hand-worked buttonhole (Nordheim, Vintage Couture Tailoring) | welt pocket construction
Stabilizing the welt pockets

The Tailoring book includes an order of operations for tailoring a coat, and includes instructions for raglan sleeves, but most of the tutorials to attach the sleeves and sleeve lining were appropriate for regular sleeves. This is what I ended up doing:

  1. Underlined fashion fabric
  2. Constructed coat back: sew CB seam & baste back stay
  3. Shaped undercollar: hair canvas & padstitching
  4. Shaped coat fronts: hair canvas, padstitching, tape roll lines & lapels
  5. Sleeves: baste sleeve stays, sew to fronts and backs, sew side seams and top sleeve seam
  6. Sewed undercollar to coat
  7. Constructed lining unit: sew facings (fronts and back neck) to lining, sew top collar to lining unit
  8. Attached facings/lining to shell around lapels and collar, trim and turn wrong sides together
  9. Added welt pockets and said a Hail Mary*
  10. Hand-tailored hems
  11. Top-stitched collar, lapels & coat front
  12. Attached lining to hems
  13. Hand-worked buttonhole
  14. Attached button

*Not recommended! This should have been step #3, I think. I had a last-minute realization that increasing the coat overlap made my patch pockets look ridiculous and had no other choice. This brings me to my next category:


  • Realizing the wider overlap made the front too crowded for patch pockets
  • Cutting my top collar up-side down
  • Not pattern-matching my center-back seam
  • Leaving my front underlining pieces out where my cat could wiz on them

When I asked Instagram if I needed an SBA (and how to go about it), Jo offered to send me pictures from her textbook! Gail, Amy and Kohlrabi Bohemia jumped in when I was trying to figure out what was happening with the back fit.

To say that I learned a lot during this project is an understatement; I’d been wanting to make a coat since last winter but got too nervous (and also distracted!) I’ve been slowly storing up knowledge since then, which made the process a lot more approachable. I’m very much a beginner, but feel free to ask me any questions you might have about what I did. A lot of the photos in the post are from Instagram and you can see them all chronologically using the tag #crabandbeecoat.

Happy coating!

Hey, I finished my coat! | Named Clothing Yona coat

I finished my coat last Sunday (!!!) to, well, no fanfare. Sewing projects are like that to me – I hoot and holler when a pile of fabric finally starts to look like a garment, but sewing on the final button never feels like the party it should. What I did feel was a huge sense of accomplishment and a burning desire to wear it immediately.

My coat took over two months and took many twists and turns so I’m a little unsure of where to start. Maybe starting with the fabric makes the most sense. I first spotted it in the summer at Nancy’s Sewing Basket. I texted pictures of it to my sister, I cradled it in my arms and carried it around the shop, and then I wistfully put it back on the shelf. It’s a gorgeous wool, a little loosely woven, with a geometric/lattice motif. I knew I wanted to make a coat, but I didn’t even have a pattern yet.

Enter Yona. Named Clothing contacted me to see if I’d be interested in one trying one of their patterns. I initially said no, that I was too busy with all of my planned sewing, which included a winter coat. While I’ve always been intrigued by their designs, I tend to stick with $5.99 sale Vogues; I love 1-2 designs per collection, I’m familiar with the fit, notations and instructions, and, well, the price is right.

I ended up cruising their site on a slow day at work and found Yona. I had overlooked the pattern until I saw the line drawings – it was my dream coat. (I pride myself on being able to see beyond styling and fabric choice, but wow, the fringe and contrast lapel facings really fooled me!) I’d also heard they draft for taller, broader-shouldered figures, so I went ahead with it after making sure our expectations were the same: I would muslin the pattern, but if the muslin didn’t work there was no expectation I would sew a finished coat. This post is by no means intended to be a straight product review, for two reasons: 1, I altered the pattern quite a bit and completely disregarded the instructions because I wanted to construct my coat using traditional tailoring techniques (my guess is that the instructions would be closer to RTW tailoring) and 2, I think it’s tough to review something objectively you received for free. Andrea has an awesome post on this topic.

Anyhoodles, here’s my disclosure! I received this pattern for free from Named Clothing in exchange for trying the pattern. | Named Clothing Yona coat

The design changes I made were as follows:

  • 1″ wider lapels and collar
  • 1″ wider front overlap & adjusted roll line
  • 3″ longer width
  • Combined collar stand and collar since I would be hand-tailoring it
  • Button closure instead of a wrap
  • Welt pockets

Oh, the welt pockets… I had every intention of using the patch pockets included in the pattern. I generally prefer welt pockets but my head was already exploding with all of the steps in the coat and I had happily resigned myself to patch pockets. I waited until I’d sewn the shell to the lining so I could try the coat on. And guess what? the extra inch in the overlap crowded them out; welt pockets it was. I spent two days stewing and making best friends with Claire Schaeffer’s welt pocket instructions in Couture Sewing Techniques. Cutting into a coat front that you’ve underlined, interfaced, tailored, taped and catch-stitched is not for the faint of heart. | Winter coat welt pocket

Fit-wise, the design was pretty close for me and the changes were what I might have expected: small bust adjustment, broad/square shoulder adjustment and some futzing wit the back arm scye. All these were made very interesting by the simple fact this coat has raglan sleeves. There is significantly less information available for fitting raglans! There’s still somethin’ happening at the back raglan seams, but hey – I have a full range of motion in a coat, for the first time in my life. | Named Clothing Yona coat

I cut out my coat and started sewing before I’d translated all of my design and fit changes to the facings and lining. I had to, or I would have lost the will to make this coat. Still, I was cursing my past self when it came to the lining, and frantically paging through my Joseph-Armstrong textbook  where I once again encountered the dearth of information about raglan coats! Whatever I did – and I really could not tell you what it was – turned out fine. | Named Clothing Yona coat lining

I constructed most of this coat using  the “custom” or traditional tailoring methods from Tailoring: Sewing the Perfect Jacket, with one exception – I machine-sewed most of the lining to the front and neck facings. Even though the hems are sewn in by hand, I just couldn’t imagine hand-sewing in my fantastically slippery, heavy lining all the way around. Next time, maybe. | hand worked buttonhole

And that anti-climactic finishing step: the buttonhole. I don’t care for bound buttonholes for some reason, so I attempted the hand-worked variety. I found that a couple of days’ practice got me to a buttonhole that was totally fine – it wouldn’t win prizes but it also wouldn’t catch my eye when I was wearing the coat and make me regret not practicing more. | Named Clothing Yona coat

I could go on and on about what this coat asked, nay, demanded of me, but I’ll be sharing a brain-dump post later this week with detailed lists of resources I used and my order of operations for construction… so I remember what I did…

About halfway through the coat, I started getting fantasies about other sewing projects: blouses, jeans, quilts, anything and everything. I thought I’d be blowing through quick projects at this point but now that I’ve finished, I haven’t done much other than clean up my sewing space and muslin a blouse. After a two-month project, I guess there’s no rush!

Some thoughts on 2014

I typed this title and started blankly at the text field for awhile. How do you sum up a year?

Maybe it’s best to consider how it began. I started this year blissfully unemployed. Then I went back to full-time work as a contractor. It was a rough transition, but it happened at the right time. I’d done all the reflecting and rejuvenating I possibly could, and I needed to hatch from my cocoon before I started stagnating. There’s a part of me that feels like if I’d just stuck with those feelings a little longer I might have found the perfect balance of employment, free time and 100% fulfilling work but that’s probably untrue. Being at home for so long was starting to shake my confidence in my ability to interact with other humans, which has never been that strong.

Screen Shot 2014-12-11 at 11.53.56 AM
Hiding from my office party

So I went back to work and my sewing changed. The “thinking” part of sewing lessened in favor of the “making” part. I spent the early part of this year working on my bodice sloper and adapting a pleated pants pattern into a jeans pattern, but my spring and summer was full of dresses and tops and wearing the jeans enough to realize that a) they would need future improvements and b) they should be given to my sister.
Unblogged V.2 jeans

Now that I’ve become re-accustomed to working, my desire for longer projects is increasing again. I made a jacket. I fitted and sewed a button-down for one of our best friends who doesn’t fit RTW. After a year of talking about it, I’m sewing a coat that should be done by the end of this month. It’s been a slow process, with the construction interspersed with lots of book flipping and internet scrolling, but to me that signals I’m learning something.

Next year, I’m slated to sew a wedding dress for my sister and I’d like to renew my quest for awesome pants. The quickest way for me to develop an aversion to something is to set a hard goal to complete it, so (aside from the wedding dress) I’m not going to do that. I’ll just say this: I’m excited for another year with you people, shared through the magical lens of sewing and creating.

Raglan progression

Like many, I’ve been taken with the raglan-sleeved sweatshirt trend. I had a vintage 1980s pattern in my stash, which turned out to be disastrously large through the armpits, chest and sleeves. (Every time I’m facing extensive pattern changes, there seems to be a McCall’s/Butterick/Vogue sale and a pattern that promises to save me from my fit issues.)

I bought McCall’s 6992 and tried it out using a thrifted jersey sheet. I used my hip size all around, but the bust came out huge. And my sister, bless her heart, tried to hide the wrinkles by pulling the shirt down before taking a picture. I felt like a cat with a coat on. | McCall's 6992 | thrifted sheet sewing

Here I am, trying to get that blouson feeling back. | McCall's 6992 | thrifted sheet sewing

And here’s the usual swayback scene. | McCall's 6992 | thrifted sheet sewing

For Version 2, I traced a smaller size up top graded to the larger one through the hips. I used some organic cotton French terry and honest-to-goodness RIBBING! And please enjoy a liberal dose of wrinkles, because I’ve been living and sleeping in this sweatshirt.

One element that wasn’t clear to me from my research or the pattern art is that the one-piece sleeve has a shoulder dart. At first I was irritated to sew a dart into knit fabric, but it really improves the shape. | McCall's 6992

Satisfied with the fit, I began working on what was my ultimate goal: a raglan-sleeved sweater-knit dress. The only initial change I made was extending the hem. I also underlined the front and back (with cotton-hemp jersey from a failed dye experiment) because the fabric was scratchy. It was supposedly a wool/acetate blend and felt a good deal cheaper / a lot less wooly than its price tag led me to believe. | McCall's 6992 dress

After basting together the pieces, I trimmed down the arm/side seam multiple times. I also added a hem band at the bottom and finished the neck and sleeve hems using – surprise! – this tutorial – which adapted quite nicely to my sweater knit. | McCall's 6992 dress

I hated every minute of sewing this fabric, but I like the dress quite a bit; it’s warm and easy to wear. There might be some room for improvement in the fit of the back raglan seams, but it’s comfortable. | McCall's 6992 dress

And speaking of raglans, my coat progress continues. I figured out the main problem with the back fit and added a whopping 3/4″ to the back shoulder seam. Everything fell into place! | Named Patterns Yona muslin

I still have some work to do on my lining pattern pieces, but I was starting to feel scattered and kind of hopeless I’d never get to start sewing with my real fabric. So, I’ve begun constructing the shell! I began with the back, just to get my bearings with the fabric and underlining on a simpler piece.

So the verdict after all this raglan-ing? I’m not sure the raglan is the best design for me, as my shoulders are supremely broad and square, but I appear to be riding this silhouette until the wheels fall off.

See you next spring, jacket

One of my big, big sewing focuses right now is sewing myself some outerwear. It’s a challenge, and a very timely one. My winter arsenal consist of a 5-year old puffy down coat and a woefully drafty, short, thrifted Banana Republic thing. My light-weight jacket situation is a little better and includes Minoru, Mini-ru and a thrifted jeans jacket that’s debilitatingly tight across the back. Even though I need winter coats more, starting with a fall jacket seemed prudent and still-useful. | Burda collarless jacket

I downloaded this Burda pattern in May with the best of intentions to start my jacket early, and promptly buried myself in fluffy summer sewing. It didn’t help that the instructions looked like they’d been crammed through an online translator without proofing (how does Burda manage to get all of those weird a’s with carats sprinkled throughout their instructions?). When the weather got chillier in early September, my sense of urgency overcame my mild fear/irritation, and I started my muslin.

What my pattern lacked for in instructions was made up for by (what I then thought was) a perfect fit. The fact that the pattern, chosen for my bust/waist/hip measurements, fit my broad shoulders and upper back should serve as a warning for all you normal- and narrow-shouldered folks! | Burda collarless jacket

My only fit adjustment was to correct for my swayback. (Now, of course, I see some wrinkles that may have been worth investigating!)

Other deviations from the pattern were as follows:

  • Different, simpler cuffs – the floppy zippered cuffs looked like a nightmare to me
  • Adding a full lining, with an action pleat
  • Underlining the front and back shell pieces
  • Catch-stitching the shell seam allowances
  • Completely ignoring the instructions

My muslin was a black mystery woven with some drape, and my final fabric was a hemp and recycled cotton canvas. Some issues I hadn’t spotted in my muslin showed up in the garment, namely some weirdness through the bust. | Burda collarless jacket | Burda collarless jacket

This is me explaining the importance of documenting my side-wrinkles to my photographer/sister. It looks just like a dart, doesn’t it? I love dartless flat-front styles, but they often leave me yearning for easier fitting solutions. | Burda collarless jacket

My favorite element by far is the contrasting bias binding I added to cover the zipper and finish the neckline. Sanae, a connoisseur of tasteful linens, gave me a gorgeous striped specimen that I made bias strips from. | Burda collarless jacket

The jacket doesn’t call for a  lining, but I wanted to get some practice in, and not have to finish my shell seams in a pretty way. I used the very last scraps of a thrifted rayon, first seen here. | Burda collarless jacket

I could have spent more time on the fit, in retrospect, but this jacket will be worn next spring. And I feel more prepared to dig into my coat project. I’ve started the muslin process and have been sharing a few in-process photos/soliciting fit advice on Instagram.

Screen Shot 2014-11-19 at 6.45.11 PM

Screen Shot 2014-11-19 at 6.44.00 PM

So far, the takeaway has been that my upper back is at least two full sizes larger than my bust. Oh, fitting! Outerwear, onwards!