Pre-fitting thoughts: a radical view

It was not my intention when I said we needed to talk about fit to go into a complete discussion of all the how-tos of fitting and pattern adjustment strategies.

There are lots of brilliant resources out there, and there are a few of my favourite techniques in my book, but before we get out the paper and scotch tape I think it is worth zooming out.

Zooming out to why we fit our patterns, and subsequently our clothes at all, what our expectations are, and what the general principles might be.

Here are my own thoughts on these issues. I need to hear what you think too about fit. I'm already looking forward to the discussion.

So here are a few core concepts with comments sort of mixed in too.

Idea #1: Fitting and adjusting a pattern, either before or after you try on a garment or a trial garment, and in reality probably a combination of the two, is primarily about comfort and then about appearance. 

It has to be big enough to move in and yet small enough to look smooth with lines that somehow flow over your own personal shape.

So to my mind any fitting project needs to flow with the construction lines of the garment and not fight against them.

Translated this means if you know your pattern needs some fitting work over the bust, choose a pattern with seam lines over that bust as in a princess seam, or, second choice a dart. Note seams are longer than darts and therefore have room for more fitting. 

If you have bust fitting to do avoid plain patterns like your regular old T shirt shape. 

They don't have the required construction spots you are going to need to stand on to do your work.

So look for seams where you need adjustments and you will reduce your fitting angst by about 90%.

Idea #2: Look for pattern shapes that mimic your body shape. If you have square shoulders look for set-in sleeves. If you have sloped shoulders look for raglan sleeves. Go with the flow not against the current. Another 90% reduction in fitter's meltdown potential. 

Forcing something to go in a direction it doesn't want to is always going to hurt and look it too.

A good example of this is a woman with sloped shoulders, a short neck, and a big bust struggling with fit  in a "classic" shirt style (classic often being designer speak for menswear garments put on women) and consequently opening herself up to a huge amount of work trying to bend those straight lines to her not straight body. 

So much easier if she begins from a starting place of a more feminine blouse with convertible collar and a princess seam bodice.

Idea #3: Fitting won't change your body, it will only help your clothes reflect your body. In fact a really good fit may not produce the look you want.

Examples are helpful here again.

I have a mini pot belly although I prefer to regard it as a badge of honour for three big babies and a C-section. When I make a straight skirt, an item that works over my straight hips, the front of that skirt can hang right down from the little cantilever of my stomach, creating "extra fabric" under it.

Now I can "fit" the skirt more closely with front darts and by taking in the front side seams but this will articulate that belly more closely. 

Understanding that fit reshapes clothes, and not me, leads to what I would call intelligent compromises in fit- in this case living with the loss of some body con shape in the fabric under the belly.

The same can also be said of a woman with say a 42" waist and slim legs who sees the extra fabric under her rear in tailored slacks as a "fitting" issue. 

Do we really want to fit it entirely to the point of egg cup shape or is there a compromise here too? 

Maybe leggings or slim pants with a tunic top or the selection of a wider style of pant leg that would blend in the discrepancy within its own flow?

Idea #4: Some pattern companies are better at naturally reflecting your shape than others. 

To my mind, and after working with many, many women on fit I have decided that rather than starting from a position that great fitting skills will eventually enable you to fit any pattern, you might be better to work your way through a few companies before you work your way through too many muslins.

Another example. 

Stylearc patterns fit me like a glove, with a little added in the waist. It has taken me a while to find them (had to wait about 30 years before those patterns went into production) but as long as I stick to Stylearc pants I am fine - to get the same end result in say a Vogue pattern would take me about five muslins.

However that said as much as I would like to love Stylearc tops they are just too generous in the shoulders for me. I am just too bony up top. 

Now I could use a smaller than my measurements Stylearc pattern to start, and make adjustments to add to the bust and waist so they might fit me, but I find it just so much easier to make tops in Jalies instead. The Jalie draft starts from a point much more like my own shoulder/upper chest shape and I have to make minimal fitting adjustments when I use those patterns.

Idea #5: Do one adjustment at a time. 

It is amazing that extent to which a change on one place can affect the behaviour of another part of a garment. Be wary about fooling around trying to fit too many places all at the same time - if it doesn't give you the result you want right away you will never know why or how to find your way back.

So those are my initial fitting thoughts.

Now what are yours?

Before we fit : how we see ourselves and the voices in our heads

I have been percolating this blog post for a long time. I know there are things I really want to say but I have been almost overcome by how many, and how intense, my thoughts are on this subject. To talk about body image I also have to talk about myself and mention my family and my mother and I am not sure how much I should do that.


Even now as I start to write this I can feel myself getting flushed and anxious.

That's what the voices in our heads have done to us.

Let's start with a sewing story and work on from there.

I have taught I don't even know how many sewing classes and measured I don't know how many women.

Not once, not once, not once did I ever move my measuring tape down to a woman's hips and not have her apologize for her hip measurement. Even one woman, I can even remember her name Joyce, who had a hip measurement of 35"

I even remember her hip measurement.

I can't count either the number of times a woman would pick a part of her body or appearance and use the word hate. I hate my legs, I hate my arms, I hate my nose, I hate my saddlebags.

Always part of your own God given body that has carried you through pain and love and loss and got you out of that door to the bus for work when you felt like shit, that has got you up out of that chair when you yourself were heartbroken because someone called your name, that hoisted some child onto your jiggly but comfortable lap, that lifted a million loads of laundry, rinse a million dishes, fitted tired feet into stiff shoes and walked you smiling into a million meetings where you had to listen at length to someone who was half as smart as you were making twice the money.

There is some part of this body that you hate.

So even when we sew the voices in our heads, those of ourselves and of our ancestors, come into the sewing room with us. 

We agonize for 30 years over pants that fit. Make a million muslins and take dozens of classes trying to fit what's wrong. We cover our whole bodies in tents like burkas to cover that one part that we hate, hiding the 90% for the sake of the 10%.

I thought this might even be worse among women of my generation. I know for certain that I grew up knowing that a normal woman was 5'5" 120 pounds and had a chin length blond bob (I still see those women now overpopulating the neighbourhoods where the doctors and lawyers live, jogging in small groups on weekday mornings). 

What I didn't know was what a person was to do if that was not them and never would be. 

My mother like many cared a lot about appearance. So did my dad. He had four daughters and was worried. On a teacher's salary we all were put in braces, as his investment in our marital futures. Our teeth to be inspected I suppose like horses as the summer fair.

My mother, bless her for all she did, tried to hide her feelings about our appearances but it came out. One of the truly terrible things every mother knows is that it is the offhand comment that children will remember, not the thousands of supportive things you say.

You know what I mean. 

Being told that dress was great on you because you look slim type comments. When I was younger I was too thin (apparently a neighbour once described me as cadaverous when I was a teenager my mother reported) and as I have got older it is that I am too heavy.

For me primarily it was my hair, and still is.

I have an autoimmune thyroid disease that on medication causes me no problems at all. I had half of my thyroid removed too at one point and the meds are not negotiable. Unfortunately one of the side effects in some people is hair loss and there is not a damn thing I can do about it.

Personally I quite like my hair. I know it does its best. There are worse things and I am grateful for my thin old hair sticking out randomly out of my head every morning ready to do another day.

What I don't like is having to deal with how other people view it.

The hairdresser who once asked me to get out of the chair because there was nothing he could do with hair like mine. The other helpful stylists who suggest vitamins from Costco. The fact that my mother's record for starting to discuss my hair once she sees me again is 26 seconds (my daughter once timed it). The fact that when I won the medal for the highest standing in my faculty in my university and my picture was in the newspaper, unfortunately with my hair messed up when I put on my academic gown, the first thing my mother said was with that hair people will think anyone who looks that dumb must be smart.

I think you get the picture. No need for me to keep get going. And I know you have your own stories, and I want to hear them, I think we all do.

However I was reminded of this yesterday morning.

I knew I was going into my publisher to shoot videos. When I heard there would be overhead cameras the first thing I thought about was my hair. I decided I wouldn't bring my mother's attention to the video.

I thought I was doing just fine but you know what I did?

Without my glasses on picked up my bottle of nude nail polish, that is more or less the same shape as my foundation, and I put nail polish on my face. It was only when I put my glasses on that I realized what I had done.

Oh yes I was real calm. Kept thinking about those cameras.

So it seems to me that before we even talk about fitting we need to own our bodies.

A huge revelation, and a wonderful discovery, particularly today one day after international women's day, has been the indie pattern companies.

As you all know I have decided to explore indie patterns this year.

I need to say though that I am focusing a bit on what I would call second generation indies. The first would be any company like Stylearc or the independent designers you see for sale on sites like Patternreview.

The second generation are the home-based business type .pdf patterns who market themselves mainly through Facebook and Etsy and their Shopify websites.

These patterns, Patterns for Pirates, Rad Patterns, Stitch upon a time, Greenstyle Creations, Five before Four, etc. (this is a partial list only, look for reviews over the year) and others of this generation have a few things in common:

• they come in a large range of sizes - XXS-XXL
• they have many options obviously intended for adaption to different body types, a bomber jacket in a short and tunic version for example
• the garment/sample pictures are collected from pattern testers, chosen as far as I can make out, by the range they represent - these are clothes on real people

Now after decades of seeing size zero models in the pattern books I was at first really struck by seeing real bodies. And not just real bodies but real bodies and happy faces. These were sewers not hiding themselves, not dressing to compensate for their flaws, as we were trained to do.

Hating your body or part of it on these women seemed to be over shadowed by the look of satisfaction, the "I made it myself" smiles that I think distinguishes sewers from retail buyers.

I invite you to check out some of these pattern companies and just give yourself time to look at the models. I want you to consider any reactions that these women have figure flaws.

I want you to look at a picture like those posted at the top of this post. I want to ask yourself when did you ever see these women in the pattern catalogue. Ask yourself if these women look like you or someone you know. Maybe ask yourself should this woman be in a tent if she doesn't want to, or in a house, or off the beach, or should she be proud of something she made, so proud she is sharing it, and that she is smiling at that person behind that camera who is proud of her too.

So look at these pictures and tell me what you think, what you feel, and share your stories.

Then we can I think we can talk about fit.

And the last word on colour

Wasn't that interesting?

Colour seems to be such an important topic because it is so personal (see comments, and note that teal has more fans than anticipated). Colour seems to be  part of the decision not be be neutral or the personal decision to compliment a neutral.

All of your comments have me thinking.

Here are some of those thoughts, or questions really:

• How many of you wear your favourite colours a lot, or at least give them a priority?

• How much of our basic colours are those that manufacturing has presented us with? We all know that cutting one colour for multiple garments sure saves fabric. How much more fabric would be saved if the colour range is contained? Look at this very interesting article from today's NY Times on how we are trained to feel the "Colour of the Year"

• Really I think a person would be hard pressed these days to sew a wardrobe without black if she wanted. In the winter at least black dominates. Try even finding navy leggings for example, or yoga pants easily in any thing other than black. Can you imagine how much even harder that would be if you were trying to build a wardrobe around teal or say plum?

• Only sewists have the choice to swim upstream colour wise, but then they can expect to stand out even more in the RTW sea around them.

• Coordinating is stil tough for many personal palette sewists, which is why many who decide to do this sew in "outfits" rather than separates, or use colour more for stand alone items like dresses and coats than basics. This would be me.

The other thing that impressed me from your comments is that a few of you mentioned that colour often attracted compliments and attention. Just yesterday in a Walmart I complimented a lady on her most beautiful shocking pink sweatshirt - she just looked so happy.

So if you accept the idea that colour can communicate or at least create emotional connection this is a tool of life worth considering.

I hope that none of you who saw this series were expecting a brilliant what French women wear type wardrobe plan in our discussion of personal style.

I am pretty sure that is being done elsewhere and being done well.

I think what's going on here instead is a conversation on how we use clothes, and as sewists we can define those, to talk to the world about who we are, or more importantly speak to ourselves about who we really are.

What's up next of course has to be body image.

Brace yourself for that one.

It's a biggy and will be something I will be pondering as we head west out of Texas tomorrow.