My pants are huge, yet so comfy. Sewing vintage patterns means my pants are out of style.

Thank my husband for two blog posts in such close proximity. He's staying up to mark his mid-term, so I'm staying up to keep him company.

So. As noted in the title of this blog post, sewing vintage patterns can mean <gasp> that my clothing may not be exactly on style for today's fashions.

Take, for example, my typical, everyday jeans. How do they fit? The legs are skinny, the crotch is snug, and the waist sits about five inches below my natural waist line. AND THEY DON'T REALLY FIT ME PROPERLY. They don't stay up, I have to wear a belt, and even when I do, it's not a perfect fix, they still work their way down.

Now, consider a pair of pants made off of a 1940s style pattern:

Same pattern as the coveralls, just the pants part.

The waist is high, like where my actual waist is, there's at least a full hand-width of room in the crotch, and there's so much room in the legs--How much room?--I don't know, just lots of room.

I was a worried when I finished the first pair (the black-blue ones), and tried them on. I know I made the coveralls first, but somehow this was different. The pants were so loose in the legs and crotch. Not like, MC Hammer loose, but definitely not what's in style right now. I wasn't sure if I could wear in them out. They could be comfy for at home, but I'd already bought the material to make the second pair, so I felt like I needed to go forward with the sewing.

Then I did wear them out. I can't remember where to--probably a Saturday to market trip. They were comfy. Then I kept wearing them (I actually haven't finished tacking down the waist band on the black-blue ones yet because I keep wearing them). I've worn them to work, I've worn them to church, I've worn them on a family weekend in Toronto, I've just worn them around.

The biggest thing I've found I need to adapt my style to is, I need to tuck in my shirts. Normally, with tight pants, I don't tuck my shirts. It looks silly, and bunching happens. Now, because these pants are so big, if I don't tuck in my shirts everything get too tent-y or sack-like. Since there's a defined waist in these pants, it seems to hold down my shirt and keep things relatively smooth.

See what I mean? A lot of fabric was used in the making of these pants. If I tuck in my shirt (which is nice and slim fitting), they don't look too bad, right? (Thanks again, to my awesome friend Alexa Baker for the picture help.)

See all that room in the legs? Don't I look so comfortable?

Buttons. On the side. I've been enjoying picking out fun buttons. You can't tell in this picture, but they're sparkly. Can't say I love making button holes, though.

That's it for this pant pattern for now (two pairs of more-or-less identical pants is probably enough), although I might adapt the pattern to make a pair of shorts or two? I'm currently in the process of shirt-making. Perhaps next time I blog about sewing I'll make a few comments on the differences I've noticed between the construction of vintage garments versus modern-day ones.

Ciao,

Andrea

A little more vintage sewing action

It's with very good reason that I'm taking the entire year to think about my career. I didn't spend any time considering it in February. On nights when I had the time, I wanted to write (which--yay!), or watch the Olympics (Go Canada, I love figure skating!). My task in March is to get back on track.

In the meantime, a quick post or two about my sewing endeavours.

The last time I posted about sewing (1940's coveralls), I said my next post was going to be about a skirt and bolero I made for the Christmas season, so:

Again, I'm not going to do an in-depth on the sewing process (maybe on a future project?), but really, I'm not that good a seamstress. I seem to be capable of making clothing that looks respectable,...as long as you don't inspect it too close. I cut corners, and I don't always get things perfectly flat/turned/whatever.

My fabulous friend and photographer, Alexa Baker, helped me take this photo, as well as the one below.

The skirt doesn't fit me quite exactly. I fiddled a lot with the waistband, but still didn't get it to fit snug like it looks on the pattern envelop. I'm not sure if that's a fault in my sewing (or method), or an issue with the sizing. It's only a tiny bit loose, and maybe if I hadn't decided to line the skirt ((Go Me! for improvising) (I had leftover lining from an earlier, failed project) (it's a winter skirt, but I only made it out of cotton)) I might have been able to fix it better.

I'm super pleased with my efforts on the bolero. I thought it was going to be tricky, but it turn out not too bad. I had to look up one YouTube video about turning a lining in a jacket (I couldn't quite get it from the pattern instructions), but other than that it was pretty smooth. The one minor hiccup (because there has to be one) is that the cuffs are a trifle tight. If they slide too far up my forearms, they get stuck and I have to pull them down again.

I wore the bolero to several Christmas events, not with the skirt, but with jeans.

I'm currently working on a couple of 1950s style shirts, then I've got one more untouched pattern (this one's a doozy, so it might sit for a while) from this round of projects. I've put in a request for two more patterns: another one from the 1940s with pants, shirt and vest, then one for a day dress from the 1930s. Once I've gotten through the shirts and at least one new pair of pants, I might circle back to this pattern for another skirt and maybe even another bolero.

I've also sewn two pairs of pants from the coverall pattern. I've been wearing them around a fair bit lately and gotten a couple of compliments. I'll write a quickie post about them, and how it feels to walk around in pants that are very much not the current style, soon.

Ciao,

Andrea

Continued sewing adventures with vintage style patterns

As promised, another blog post! And it's once again about sewing.

Does this sound familiar: You finally decide it's time to go shopping for new clothes, you brave the mall, then when you actually go to a store (or stores), you can't find anything you like?

This is me, almost always. It's so disappointing and frustrating when you can't find clothing you want to buy--especially when you've spent months saving up the money. Part of it for me is, I'm usually looking for something a little...different. In my teen and early twenty years, that meant super colourful. Now in my thirties, I think I'm looking for something with a vintage feel.

I don't remember when I first learned how to sew, maybe around grade 7 or 8? That's definitely when we had 'Home Ec' class, although come to think of it, I could already sew basic boxer shorts by then, so maybe earlier. My mom always sewed--for as long as I can remember. She didn't make whole wardrobes or anything, but she usually made me Sunday Dresses, and one or two other things. She sewed my wedding dress, too.

Although I've known how to sew for a long time, I am NOT an expert. I make mistakes, don't get my corners perfectly turned, or my seems exactly aligned. I get frustrated and rush things when I just want to get it done. But, I can still put together reasonable garment, that as long as you don't examine it up close, looks decent enough.

Sew (see what I did there...), without further ado, behold my next vintage-style piece:

Initially I thought I'd make the pants to start, but I mixed up the yards and metres, so I knew I'd have a ton of fabric leftover if I didn't go for the whole overalls. I went with a plain black, light denim fabric, but purchased some fun rainbow-holographic buttons to jazz them up.

Laying out the pattern, as my Mom taught me, saving as much leftover fabric as possible. Also, I have to do this on the floor, since we still have the same tiny Ikea table we had when we moved to Edmonton 12 years ago.

My sewing machine isn't quite the same vintage as my overalls, but it's still a heavy-duty classic. 1970 Kenmore sewing machine, solid metal and weighs a ton. It was my Mom's, but she's got a fancy-dancy computerized thing now.

As is often the case with sewing patterns, I don't fit nicely in a single size category, which can be something of a problem when I'm making a garment that has to cover me from top to bottom, like a dress, or overalls. I've got huge aerialist shoulders, a tiny chest, an average waist, and hips that are much more narrow than what pattern makers expect for my waist size. As I said, I'm NOT an expert seamstress, so figuring out how to make patterns work can be a tricky.

For the overalls, I cut out the size that was supposed to fit my waist, but once I sewed the pants together and tried them on, I discovered I was swimming in fabric. From there I took the seams in by 3/8 an inch on ALL SIDES. I might have over done it a tad, as the finished product is a bit snug. I continued to adapt the seam width for the bodice.

Beyond the sizing issue, my biggest problem was making the button side of the waist band lie flat. There's so much fabric in the spot where the waist band meets the top of the pants that no matter what I did (I only felt comfortable trimming the extra fabric so far) that I couldn't get a nice, neat seam. In the end I decided it was on the side of my body, and right where the buttons would be, so no one would really notice.

Hopefully I'm right.

Me! In the finished product.

The overalls are pretty comfy, even if I took the seams in a hair too far. I sewed the buttons as close to the edge of the button placket as I could, so it works. Honestly, the biggest downside with these overalls is there are 7 buttons to do up, plus 2 more for the straps, meaning I need to be careful with planning my bathroom breaks.

Next up, a 1950s style skirt (already complete), and bolero.

Ciao,

Andrea