A pea coat. But I wanted to make it a bit more stylish than that (yes, Aunt Toby realizes that the pea coat is a men’s style icon but if I’m only going to get one shot at making my son a coat that he can wear for everything from a concert to a trip to a restaurant, then I want to make it a bit more fashion forward than a pea coat), so I looked through all my Burda pattern magazines and found a man’s jacket with what we’d refer to as ‘princess seams’ (if it’s a man’s garment, do we get to call them ‘prince’ seams?). My son is a bit more narrow in the shoulders than he is in the hips, so having extra seams would give me more fitting spots for him. So, being not the ‘forward thinking person’ that I should be, I just frankenpattern’ed the two of them together, making a new pattern.

And then, got stuck. How to put the pockets in AND get the welt flaps on in the right places as well? Pockets are one of those things that, despite almost 50 years of sewing, I have to think through in a very focused, conscious way. Even patch pockets require my rehearsing because for some reason, if I don’t, I end up with a horrible result.

In this case, since even the diagrams in the Japanese men’s coat book did not help (because they were doing a welt pocket insertion — something that requires me to lay down with a toddy in a dark room with a cool cloth on my forehead BEFORE I even start to think about it), I needed a quick and easy way to figure out what was going to go where, and in what order it needed to be done.

So, I went with paper dolls. This is a technique that I remember from my sewing class in high school (whispering here – 40 years ago), where to illustrate how patterns went together, we were given sheets of drawings of pattern pieces and had to cut them out and put them together without instructions as a way of teaching ourselves how to sew clothing if we did not have instructions. Now the pieces of patterns we worked with were much larger – my memory of that exercise was that we ended up with something that would have fit a doll about the size of a baby doll – but I figured this would work. The only problem per se, was in the front. I now had a ‘prince’ seam, pockets to get in the seam, and a flap that after the ‘prince’ seam is sewn from the shoulder down to the hem, that will be in the right place, vis a vis the pockets that are now on the inside of the coat.

Paper Doll Number 1: Here are the pertinent pattern pieces: Center front, left front, pockets, and the flap.

Paper Doll Number 2: Well, I’ve now got figured out that I have to pin the pockets right side to right side, edges matching so that when I flip them inside, the seam is encased inside the coat. But what about the flap? On top of the pocket? Between the pocket and the center front of the coat?

Paper Doll Number 3: Ah Ha! Got it. In order for the flap to end up in the right position in terms of the pocket and the center front piece of the coat, I have to put it between the pocket and the center front coat piece so that once I’ve sewn then down and flipped the pocket inside (to be sewn together with the other pocket piece, now sewn to the left front of the coat and flipped inside), the flap will flip to the left so that once I’ve sewn the “prince” seam, the flap will be in position for me to sew the top and bottom part of the flap to the left front of the coat, leaving the opening available for a hand to go in, and find the pocket.

Success!

That is, they are big enough that you can do things with them, or modify them in a certain way, or are worth working with because they are made well or out of good solid stuff. And I’m here to tell you that many times, it’s worth it. Today’s experiment (which is actually just a variation of the theme I explored before) is making over another sweater which is very nice but which has a neck that I hated. Now, I realize some of you are asking yourself, “Why did you buy two sweaters with the same bad neck?” At the time, the price was right and I forgot what would happen to me if I wore a turtleneck like that in a very heated office environment (can we say “hot flash”? Bet you could).

So, as you saw if you viewed the videos, I had already decided that the best use I could get out of the tunic-length sweater was by making a deep vee-neck out of it so that I can wear other tops underneath it. I marked the vee-neck and ran myself some contrasting stitching around the vee and the back of the neck so that I had a guideline to use the ‘fake commercial seam-finishing stretch stitch’ that I have on my sewing machine.

Now, there are various ways to finish off a neck like this. I could have ripped down the knitted tube that was used for the turtleneck and used the yarn to knit a band around the neck. To do that,
1. Mark the center of the vee in the front of the sweater with a safety pin. You will want to make sure that you pick up that stitch.
2. Start picking up the stitches at the center back of the neck and pick up 8 stitches, skip one stitch in the sweater, pick up the next 8 stitches and so on until you get down to the stitch on the safety pin. Pick that one up and put a marker in it. Continue on picking up the rest of the stitches, as noted all the way to where you started. Work in ribbing for 2″, decreasing 1 st every row, each side of the center st of the V-neck. Bind off all stitches loosely.

Another method is to sew ribbed knitted material or very stretchy knitted material in a band on the neck. Measure around the neck, cut the band twice as wide as you want it and an inch longer than the neck measurement. Pin around the neck and sew a narrow hem. Flip the ends to the inside and cross over one another at the front and hand sew down.

A third way of treating this (and frankly the way I did it) is to use a narrow strip of stretchy knitted material as a binding. Starting at the back, pin the strip flush with the edge and sew around, stretching it a little bit as you go to pull the neck in a little bit. At the beginning, fold over the edge of the binding fabric and sew over the original edge of the strip. Then, folding over one edge and stretching it a little bit, bring the strip over to the inside and pin all around the edge. This hides the raw sweater edge inside the binding, finishes off the the neck line of the sweater and voila!

This top is being shown with a belt on it. As you can see, there is plenty of gathers and room in the front (one tip: when you look at the back of the pattern, see the item on the chart labeled “width, lower edge”. This will give you a good idea of how much room is there. In this top, at the larger sizes, the width is close to 60 inches. So, one way to take advantage of that would be to get the pattern (they have multiple sizes now) and cut the pattern out using the cut lines that are your size (or perhaps one size up to accommodate for bust development) and then grade out to a larger size between the bust, the waist and the hem. One other advantage of something like this is that you can move the belt around as you need to – as your tummy develops, move the belt up under the bust; when baby arrives, move it back down. Genius.

Another way to find patterns that have possibilities is to search on any of the pattern sites – even the current Big Four – on certain words such as ‘Swing”, “babydoll”, Mod (because during the 60s, many dresses and tops were either babydoll or trapeze), Boho (because usually the tops and dresses have that drapey in the front, gathered hippy thing going).

This top is making use of two really clever treatments that can be used for ‘during baby’ wear: the “blouson’ and pleats in the front. I would not use any fabric that is too crisp for this – as a matter of fact, I’d use a lightweight knit for a more modern look. But to take more advantage of the blouson, I’d lower that elastic waist almost to the bottom.

Another useful style uses what are called ‘princess seams’. Now, there are all sorts of variations on this theme. In this one, the top of the seam ends at the shoulders, which is very useful if you are busty because you can modify there. But one way to make this blouse do double duty for maternity wear is to view it as an opportunity to put in a box pleat or a godet between the bust and the bottom.
For how to make a box pleat, gopleats
Or burdastyle demo

For how to add a godet, go skirt with godets(this is how to take a pattern for a skirt and add a godet – you can do exactly the same thing with a patern such as this one for the blouse).

And don’t forget the option of very drapey, stretchy knit material. I can definitely see someone(especially someone who is tall, relatively elegant looking and pregnant), using clothing like this set of designs to get through the last half of the pregnancy. Throw it on, wrap it and go.

Finally, a couple of words about stretch fabrics. You will want to see a percentage of lycra something like the following:
Stretch wovens for blouses: 3% lycra
Stretch wovens for dresses: 3-5% lycra
Stretch wovens for slacks and jackets: 5% lycra
Stretch knits for tops: 5-10% lycra (as a matter of fact – you will also want to see the words “four-way stretch” in the description and if you are able to get your hands on them before you buy, take four inches in your hands and see if you can stretch it to eight inches. You will need really stretchy knit – 2 times the length is the minimum you will want to use, especially if you are using a knit top that is not necessarily designed for maternity wear but is being shown performing that function (Jalie patterns has several tops that they show that way – you need very stretchy knits to accommodate because the pattern does not have separate sizing or cutting lines for pregnant tummies).

But one of the things that has changed a lot and which I was frankly not prepared for was this: If you want to sew maternity clothing, you are going to be hard pressed to find more than the most rudimentary and casual patterns in the current pattern offerings. If you need business clothing in maternity sizes (and have some fitting issues such as being a petite size or very tall or have out of the ordinary shoulders and so on), then at this point, you are really being left out in the cold by The Big Four pattern houses and finding maternity business clothing in other than Missy sizing is well nigh impossible. Now, having thrown that gauntlet, I do have to say that if you go to the larger vintage pattern sites such as Mom’s Patterns or Out of the Ashes , you will find a lot of maternity patterns from the years since the 80s. Some of them are not what you might want to wear today (or maybe they are – it all depends on how much of a ‘ruffle person’ you are). You can find things that are closer in style to what you can find on the maternity clothing sites. The trick is getting enough room in the abdomen and hip area because as the pregnancy moves along, it will drop in the last month or so – so I’d figure taking the hip measurement and adding space to that. How much? Well, the taller you are, the more length you have between your pubic bone and under your diaphragm, so probably padding yourself out about 8-10″ will be enough. If you usually wear a petite size range, then you have much less length there – the baby is going to be ‘out there’ a lot sooner and a lot bigger. I’d pad myself out at least 12″ and more likely – 15″. I know it sounds huge, but toward the end, the baby grows a lot and most of that is going to be in front of you (we won’t discuss the problems short pregnant women have in terms of driving a car — let’s leave it to say that you might want to make arrangements for someone else to drive you after month 8).

Another way to do an end run around this is to actually just look for patterns that have more of a trapeze or swing shape to them (that is, they fit reasonably closely in the area of the body between the under-bust and the shoulders but flare out underneath that). Or, you can look for patterns with an Empire waist where you can expand the area under the bust through methods such as ‘slash and spread’ or ‘pin and swing out’. Or, you can look in the 1980s for dresses that are just plain loose like this one which was obviously meant to be worn with a big belt but definitely looks almost loose enough for maternity use.

This will work with tops, blouses, jackets and coats. It won’t help you with slacks or blue jeans however. Another thing is just to visit The Big Four pattern company sites and look for dresses or tops that look more like like this:
I think made out of ponte or another more substantial knit, this would work beautifully as a dress or a tunic with leggings.

For slacks and blue jeans, you have a couple of options besides just buying maternity jeans or slacks (the prices of which take my breath away).

First, you can take old pairs of jeans/slacks and do some Frankenstein-ing on them to put a stretch panel in the front. And for a nifty demo on THAT, go here: Regular Jeans to Maternity Jeans

Second, if you have a slack/jean pattern that you’ve already made up and it works for you, this can be the basis of your maternity slacks. You can take inspiration from the demo mentioned above. I will warn you, as a former ‘pregnant person’ – not all the baby weight goes into the front. You might want to build in a bit of extra in the thighs and rear end AND use a stretch woven fabric for some extra accommodation. The other thing to look at is to look at maternity slacks – either go to your local department or specialty store and get a good look at how maternity slacks and jeans are now made so that you can build some of those features into your slacks. The one thing you will NOT be doing, however, is putting in a zipper. The front of the slacks will be turning into a stretch panel right about where your pubic bone is located (and if you don’t know where that is, a little time in front of the mirror is worth it). That puts a zipper at the 2” length. Not…worth…it.
Now, if you look at some of the vintage sites, one of the interesting things you’ll see is how home sewers handled maternity clothing during different periods. During the 40s and early 50s, before stretch knits became available, they either used a separate panel with an adjustable button band or they had a round cut in the front with a tie waist. Since the style for maternity tops in those days was a longish, very loose or gathered top, they were ‘covered’. As stretch knits became available, patterns changed to put an oblong panel across the front with an elasticized waist. Again, maternity tops were still made out of woven material and usually had gathers at the bust or shoulders for a very loose look. Today’s “Look at my belly” look is a complete departure, but several of the smaller pattern companies such as Kwik Sew and Jalie have produced knit top patterns that go along with that look and there are several sites which have produced DIY “belly bands” for pregnant young ladies who want to use their jeans and regular tops for longer. Belly Bands on the Cheap

So, what is Aunt Toby doing making maternity clothing? Well, Aunt Toby is going to be magically transformed into Granny Toby next year by our Elder Daughter and the SIL, an event we are all looking forward to with great excitement and anticipation. But my daughter requires more formal clothing for work – and as someone built a lot like Aunt Toby (sigh. The power of genetics…), finding those these days has been a trial. So I’m feverishly working away on some pant suits and tops for her. I modified a jacket/coat pattern from a couple of years ago.

As you can see, the jacket has a seam above the waist. All I did was shorten the top half a little bit so that the seam was closer to the bottom of the bust. Then to give my daughter more room in the front (there’s a pleat in the back), I lined up the center front edge with the selvage edge of the fabric, moved it back an inch at the top, pinned it there and swung the lower edge out three inches away. I’m also using stretch wool suiting fabrics, which will provide a bit of extra accommodation. I’m almost finished with the jacket and have to get started on the slacks.

So, for anyone looking to make their own maternity clothing – don’t lose heart! With a little creative thinking, you can modify a regular pattern to fit for maternity use. My memory of my wardrobe through my three pregnancies is that by the time the babies arrived, I hated every…single…thing. So I figured making myself nice things was worth it.
After the baby arrives…well, that’s another thing entirely.

Now, it’s not that Aunt Toby and the DH are willing to sleep on burlap sacks. A good closely woven cotton (ok, perhaps with a bit of poly in it) sheet set is a joy to sleep on (especially after they are freshly put on the bed, after you’ve had a nice hot bath, and..oh, we won’t go there) and anything else can be frankly annoying. But one problem with sheet sets is this: The sheet where, ahem, the rubber meets the road, is the sheet that starts to wear out first. And unless your linen closet is stocked 100% with one single color (no prints, no weird stuff, no 1970s hippy dippy Indian prints in gold and burgundy) and it’s the same color, then if you wear out the bottom 25% of your bottom fitted sheet (I’m talking to you, Mr. “Won’t trim the toenails”), then you have a flat and two or more pillow cases that do not go with anything else.

Instant candidates for the rag bag or out into the garbage and off into the landfill far away. And usually that flat and the pillow cases are in just fine condition, thank you very much. So, pitching all of that, no matter how much you paid for the sheet set can be more than a bit of a waste.

Many of us who read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s “Little House” series may recall her description of making sheets: Because the looms for muslin did not make the fabric wide enough for sheets, the girls and women would have to take two lengths (long enough to tuck under the mattress at both ends) and oh-so-carefully seam them up the middle with teeny little stitches, in a flat way, to make two flat sheets (America had to go without fitted sheets until an African America inventor, Bertha Berman, was awarded the patent for the invention in October, 1959. Bertha Berman Patent).

The really good thing about linens, under the Laura Ingalls Wilder regime, is that as the middle of the sheet wore out (and the middle of the sheets always wore out first, especially if one sheet was perpetually used as the bottom sheet), the household sewer could take out the stitches, flip the two halves and resew up the outside edges now to the center seam and the center area which was now worn, would be on the outside. The sheet would wear evenly that way and by the time it was done for, it really was worn out and probably would be taken apart, sewn up into something like curtains or used for other things. Once America had two nice matching flat sheets, households could just rotate through the flats and wear them out evenly that way also.

But we, post-Bertha Berman, buy our sheets in sets, with only one fitted bottom sheet, which wears out and leaves us hanging out there with the extra flat sheet and the pillow cases. Cannon Mills, et al. should raise their glasses on a regular basis to Bertha Berman for insuring that they have a steady market in households that have to throw out the usable rest of sheet sets and buy entirely new sheet sets just because the fitted bottom sheet has worn.

And so, Aunt Toby and the DH have found themselves with a bottom flat queen sized sheet from a very nice set which frankly someone (cough) put his toe nails through … and which I am not willing to pitch. I realize there are people (I can hear the eyeballs rolling back into people’s heads right now), regular readers all, who are now saying to themselves, “Oh, no, now she’s going to tell us to repair the damn sheet.”

Yep, that is exactly what Aunt Toby is going to show you how to do. This is frankly a patch job. I admit it, but it’s at the bottom 25% of the sheet; no one but the inhabitants of my bedroom will ever see it and all it will do is provide the DH and me with a certain feeling of Puritanial thriftiness that a) we could still keep using all of the sheet set and b) that we would not be putting more stuff into the landfill that truly does not belong there.

Here’s what you do:
Using a lightweight iron-on fusible interfacing, pull the edges of the rip together and iron a piece over to hold everything in place. If there are other odd holes, patch with small pieces.

Make two patches. The first one, for the underside of the sheet, should not only go over the ripped places, but over the entire worn area. If you are not sure how far that extends, hold the sheet up to the light – you’ll be able to more easily see through the worn area. Make the patch for the underside slightly larger than the worn area, pin on top and sew that on. Don’t bother with hemming the patch; use your zigzag stitch. I also go across a couple of times to hold everything in place. The second patch, for the top, should just go across the actual rip itself. Between these two patches, you will have a solid, well wearing area that should withstand even the thorniest toe nails.

Fabrics to use. On this sheet, I used a shirt weight linen – because I’ve got it from a project I did for the DH. Other fabrics you can use are muslin (regular or bleached, though bleached will not wear as well; bleaching will weaken the fibers). Just make sure the fabric has been washed in hot water, dried and ironed flat.

Happy sheets!

Waistbands are tricky like that. When you put the waistband on, you are raising the item on your body. And then there is the whole ‘weight gain and/or loss’ thing. I tend to gain in the front of my stomach and even if everything ends up the same circumference, more inches in the front pulls the item toward the front, throws off the side seams, and generally makes your Aunty extremely grouchy. Same deal when I lose weight – the front drops down because the waistband is too big. Fixing a waistband is one of those onerous tasks that causes more women to end up putting safety pins in than any other, I think.

Enter the DH – or more correctly, the DH’s dress slacks, which I have taken in and out on numerous occasions when he, too, has gone through some body changes. This was not a terribly difficult task, as men’s dress slacks have a waistband which is split in the center back. As a matter of fact, the two pieces of the waistband are put onto the center back seam without it being sewn all the way first (the light is beginning to dawn, right?), so that tailors can make their adjustment without having to take the waistband off first.

Women’s clothing, on the other hand, generally has a one-piece waistband on it. To fix a problem you have to take the entire waistband off and then do the adjustment at whatever seam and then fiddle around with making the waistband smaller and yada yada yada. Hair-pulling ensues.

So, since I don’t want to have to do THAT anymore, here’s what I did:
I measured all the way around the waist on the pants and added the amount I would to put the pants closures on. Then I added an inch for every place I was going to split the waistband.

I split my waistband actually in two places (the zip is in the left side seam): the right side seam and the back center seam.

I opened up the center back and side seams of the pants about two inches, applied the waistband pieces there, sewed up the waistband seam and the side seam and the waistband seam and the back center seam in one go.

I folded over the waistband, sewed it down.

Done. Best fitting waistband I ever had. And if I need to take it out, I can just open up the waistband where I sewed it down at the the back center seam and the side seam, open the waistband down as far as I want to get more breathing room, and resew it.

I will, in the future, do a version of this on ‘store bought’ slacks and blue jeans so that you can see that you can use this same technique to rescue these pants also.

I buy and collect too. I have to admit that my madness is generally centered on the 50s. I’m a big believer that people get focused on certain styles worn by people they admire and were close to when they were young. My style icon is my mom from that period. She was young, very beautiful to my eyes and was an absolutely socko dresser. Even though I am built completely differently from her (she was 5’8″, very athletic, small bust, very long legs and I…am not), the clothing styles that always capture my eye are the ones from that period. Isaac Mizrahi, for example, has talked extensively about the effect on him of a) growing up in a household dominated by the dress-making business owned by his parents and b) growing up in a household surrounded by his mother and aunts during the 1950s and their wearing those styles of outfits. And his designs show this time and again. He was showing dresses with big swishy skirts, pencil skirts, darted waists in the bodices long before “Mad Men” came along. He used the same aesthetic in his design collections for Target, which were hugely successful.

But everyone is different. One of the things that does not draw my eye from this period is what people would consider the ‘classic’ shirtwaist dress. Part of that is because I actually wore that style of dress to elementary school, so it doesn’t hold any magic for me. So, what I look for in terms of seeking out patterns from that period are the outfits that show something different in terms of details, or an item which was popular but perhaps only for a time (such as the ‘sack’ dress with the back belt which actually eventually morphed into the sixties shift). Another aspect is whether I’ve seen this pattern before. Like other collecters and users of vintage patterns, I have favorite sites that I visit basically every day. There are patterns that you see basically all the time – they were obviously hugely popular and had big print runs. I had never seen this pattern ever before – once I saw what it was and the size that it was, I had to make it mine. I did not hesitate in terms of ordering it.

The pattern above was one which drew my eye immediately. First, it’s an ‘outfitter’ pattern, which always has an appeal in terms of thrift: The pattern comes with separate patterns for blouse, jacket, shorts, skirt and slacks. Today, a pattern trying to ape this appeal would probably have a jacket pattern with indications where you would cut the sleeve pattern for the blouse; a pants pattern with indications where you would shorten the pieces for the shorts and might or might not have a pattern for the skirt. Another special thing is that most items (the blouse, the jacket, the shorts and the slacks) all have the most amazing numbers of different facings to them, including facings for the bottom of where the hem would be on the shorts! Secondly, it features several design items which are unique: kimono sleeves on the jacket and blouse and that very unique button-up-the-side ankle treatment on the slacks. Very Gidget. Third, and this is a personal thing because even though I can draft, I would rather not, this pattern came in a size 20. For 1957, to find a pattern this stylish in a size 20 (measurements being 40-32-42) is a real find.

On the other hand, I do collect vintage patterns just to have them as a design resource – I don’t intend to ever actually make them. Here’s a good example – and not even from the 50s. This is from the 1930s and shows some of the very unique styling and detail work that is pretty common, even in home sewing patterns of the era.

But let’s return to the 1957 outfitter. Did I actually use this pattern? Yes, I actually just finished the blouse, using blue on blue embroidered cotton that I got from here. The only change I had to make was that I took out one of the tucks in the front and one of the tucks in the back. That is the only difference. I love the way it fits – it’s a blouse that was easy to fit, easily fits me and that I plan to make in several other fabrics as well. The slacks come next. (my stance is a little bit unbalanced here, which is why the neckline has shifted off; it really does fit correctly on my neck)

So, what method do you use in terms of choosing vintage patterns?

He thought it might be ‘some sort of twill’. Several of us recognized immediately that what he had was not twill but I thought that perhaps a little bit of information on what twill is…and ain’t..might be useful.

The picture at the top is a twill that is probably the most accessible and well known to all of us – and that is denim. I put the pen in the picture to draw your attention to the twill weave effect, which goes diagonally on the goods. That picture was taken straight down the leg of an old pair of blue jeans, so although the ‘straight of the grain’ is vertical, you can see that the twill effect runs diagonally.

The definition, per wiki: “Twill is a type of fabric woven with a pattern of diagonal parallel ribs.It is made by passing the weft thread over one or more warp threads and then under two or more warp threads and so on, with a “step” or offset between rows to create the characteristic diagonal pattern. Because of this structure, twills generally drape well. Examples of twill fabric are chino, drill, denim, gabardine, tweed and serge.” Twill

The one thing this definition does not mention (strangely enough) is that this structure does something else for fabrics: It makes them extremely “hard wearing”. Look at that list and what many times these fabrics are used for:
Chino: Men’s work pants and hot weather military uniforms.
Drill: Men’s work clothing where an element of protection is required; also used as coverings on items that have to take heat such as ironing board pads. Usually light colored or natural and all-cotton.
Denim: The original American work clothing: blue jeans. The original fabric came in a dual fiber form: the dark blue was cotton and the white or natural was actually wool. You can still get ‘wool denim’ clothing and fabrics from time to time and it is a fabric that the Australian Wool Board has promoted (for obvious reasons).
Gabardine: The number of various fibers that this material can be made from are legion, but it remains that this fabric is used for nicer levels of office clothing such as suits for men and women.
Serge: This fabric is not as popular in men’s suits as it once was but was considered very hard wearing; one weakness was that it had to be pressed from the back through a press cloth. The fibers in the weave are so numerous that pressing from the front caused shine.
Tweed: The best use of this form of twill is in outerwear as the fibers in the weave are relatively coarse.

So, what was the fabric that the blogger got? It certainly had a pattern of parallel ribs on it, but the direction was horizontal to the straight grain of the goods. I just made a skirt (thank you; I couldn’t find a navy pencil skirt in my size any place. I had to make one for myself) out of the same type of fabric, though mine is a mixture of cotton and silk. This weave is called “faille” and can be found in many different fibers. The ribs are more pronounced than in a twill (besides the direction being totally different) and this gives the fabric entirely different qualities in terms of draping, durability and so on. In general, it is seen as a dressier fabric than twills are and is generally not used in items such as pants, where durability in the seat and inner leg areas is a concern.

So, from a ‘bang for your buck’ aspect, what’s your best choice? Well, for rough outdoor work clothing, denim and drill can’t be beaten. For suits with slacks, gabardine is best (and even better if you get it in ‘worsted wool’ or a ‘worsted wool blend’ as the worsted processing produces fibers with a hard finish, which makes the fabric even more durable). For women’s suits and dresses, gabardine is a very good choice as gabardine (especially in lighter weights) has a very nice drape but will also tailor well. For outerwear, heavier gabardines and tweeds are very good choices. Remember – hold up the fabric in the item up to the light and move one hand up and down so that the light plays across the face of the fabric and you’ll be able to see the diagonal rib effect. That way, you’ll know you have a true twill.

Very Easy/Tres Facile. Misses/Misses Petite Dress and Belt: Semi-fitted, pullover, lined dress with waistline casing in seam and blousing in the bodice, back neckline opening with button and loop closing. Knee and floor length. I made the floor length for a ‘black tie’ affair we had at the local university last night. Also comes with pattern for tie or covered buckle belt.
Fabrics: Crepe back satin and soft faille. Also for A: Lame and Sequin.

So, let’s analyze:
Separate bodice with inset shoulders. Elasticized waist. Skirt that gets gathered by …the elasticized waist.

Why did I choose this dress for the event? Well, as some of my loyal readers know, I broke and dislocated my shoulder early in May. I just got out of the ‘strapped up and slung’ stage and entered the “physical therapy’ stage. I find it really difficult to get in and out of fiddly clothing. Most of what I am wearing these days are made out of knits (preferably with some lycra in them) and with a fairly open neck in them. Although this dress doesn’t have an open neck, per se, it does have enough room because of the slit in the back and the button-loop closing for me to gather it all up, get my arm that is healing into one armhole, get my head into the neck opening and then get my good arm into the other side. Pull everything down with one hand, find a volunteer to button the one button in the back, put on a belt and voila! As easy a dressing up experience as I was going to find. Yes, it does have inset shoulders. And my biceps are about 13″ around. Generally, I am pretty self-conscious about my arms, but let’s face it, with a broken shoulder, I have the attitude that comfort comes first. And, my arms are big. That’s the way it is.

I made this dress even more easy: I used bamboo and lycra jersey (which I got from Fabricmart) and lined the bodice with some nude net from Joanne’s Fabrics (you can find that in the section where they have all the fabrics for dance costumes). It’s very soft and stretchy. Using a knit meant that I could downsize this – I usually have to use a Vogue size 18 or 20 AND do an FBA. With the knit and the measurements of the pattern, I graded from a “16″ at the shoulder to an “18″ at the side seam.

Any changes: I also raised the bottom of the armscye an inch on both the front and back bodice pieces because I knew I was going to wear this with a racer-back bra (which worked really well). And instead of lengthening the bodice front to accommodate for the needed bust length, I added a 2″ insert at the waist. THAT is what I used to put in the elastic (I used 1″ elastic and just sewed it directly onto the 2″ insert and then sewed the insert to the bodice and then to the skirt). It gave me a little bit more of a ‘blouson’ in the bodice but worked really well with the elastic (I am not a big fan of putting in casings and stringing elastic through casings and all of that). I used very lightweight weft-insertion stabilized in the hem and the back slits. I don’t have an overlock machine but this works really well on my sewing machine with knits. No skipped stitches.

Accessories: There are all sorts of accessories tricks that you can do with a dress as plain as this:
Fabric flower at the neck or the waist. Long dangly earrings. When I saw this belt at Chico’s, I was able to convince myself that the price tag was worth the money. This is a belt I can wear with dressy clothing. I felt like a zillion dollars in it; it dressed up the dress wonderfully, took the attention away from the big bruise (it takes a long time to get rid of one of these from a fracture) on my arm, and gave me the feeling of being very very dressed up.

Why do I not have a photo of the dress? Well, I have to say that the reason I don’t is that my very efficient husband decided to get up and do all the laundry this morning and…it went into the laundry. Another time.

Anything I’ll do differently next time (and there will be a next time because I can’t think of a nicer, easier, cooler dress than this one turned out to be)? I think I’ll stabilize the edges of the neck and the armholes with the same weft-insertion interfacing that I used in the hems and the slits. That’s really about it.