Review: Simplicity 3692 (Built By Wendy Knit Top)

Pattern: Simplicity 3692 Built By Wendy Pattern

Type of Garment: Knit Top

Fabric Used: Two of the boy’s old work T-shirts, dark green interlock. One might’ve sufficed if  I didn’t have to navigate the company logo.

Size: On the pattern, I would’ve been a size 12. But other reviews have noted how big this is, so I compared it to my TNT crewneck tee pattern (BBW Homestretch XS) and it most closely approximated a 4, so I cut that size. I also shortened the pattern by 2 inches.

Pattern alterations or any design changes you made:
Because I was worried about what the smaller size might do to the armscye, I sewed the shoulder seams and yoke seams at 1/4 inch, to lengthen the armscye. It still felt awfully wide and long, so I increased the side seams to a 1 inch seam allowance. I ended up shaving off another inch on each side, starting with the bottom, to make it less A-line and more straight. 2-inch hem.

Instructions:
Perfect. This was such an easy project to put together.

Did it meet expectations?
Yes! I’ve been taking on such big, complicated projects lately that it was wonderful to work with a fast and easy project that looks good. The yoke and the square neckline is what makes this pattern really special. Sort of an updated tee.

What did you particularly like or dislike about the pattern?

Like the clean finish on the neckline because of the yoke. I didn’t like the shape of the pattern at the side seams, but that’s easily fixed.

Would you sew it again? Would you recommend it to others?

Yes. I’ve seen some great versions out there — with sleeves, dress-length, contrast yoke. Some folks have even done this in a woven. I’m particularly interested in how this might look with a fabric with some drape.

And the pattern reminds me of two favorite pieces in my closet — a knit dress and top from Banana Republic in a heavy knit with a flutter sleeve and an embroidered yoke. They’ve got this tailored bohemian vibe to them that I love. This pattern would be perfect if I wanted to make a similar dress/top. All I would have to do is trace the curved side seams from the BR dress/top onto the BBW pattern and add seam allowances.

Any new techniques?

No.

Conclusion:
A nice, simple addition to both my closet and my pattern arsenal.

How to Copy Ready-to-Wear

There's nothing more empowering or more sustainable than being able to re-create or redesign a favorite garment yourself. —Steffani Lincecum

 
Several of you expressed interest in the method I used to copy my favorite jeans, so I took a few photos when I recently copied this J. Crew blazer that belongs to a colleague. Not so much a tutorial as a demonstration, but feel free to ask me questions and I'll do my best to answer. This is my favorite method at the moment. Definitely a game-changer.

Source Garment: J. Crew Blazer, several years ol

 

 An Introduction to the Rub-Off Method

The techniques I'm using to copy ready-to-wear comes from Patternmaking for a Perfect Fit: Using the Rub-off Technique to Re-Create and Redesign Your Favorite Fashions by Steffani Lincecum. Lincecum has worked to create wardrobes for Hollywood and the stage. She says:

Fitting times are very limited and we considerably cut down research and development time by building "closets" for various characters. If we had a shape and size that worked, I'd create a rub-off pattern and then make multiple garments in different fabrics, slightly varying the details along the way.

I know I've got a closet full of things that have a particular shape and size that I reach for over and over. This is also a great way to copy vintage pieces, since you don't have to take the garment apart. Lincecum goes on:

The most compelling reason to learn the rub off technique concerns the garments you already love to wear. We all have a favorite skirt or dress that we bought several seasons ago and that fits just right in every way—and no matter how hard we search, we can't find a similar one anywhere. In addition, we all have that one blouse we adore and want to have in every color, or at least be able to restyle it in interesting ways. Now you can!

Many of us are keen on using patterns, some of us are skilled at draping and she introduces the rub-off method as a third technique to employ when making clothes. For rub-off, there are two ways you can do it:

1. The paper rub-off: All you need is cardboard, craft paper, pins and your favorite garment. You place pins at strategic points in the garment to create the pattern. In the book, she uses this method on a skirt and blouse
2. The Fabric rub-off: Use muslin, other fabric, or interfacing without the "glue" to drape on the garment and trace. Preferred method when "its shape prevents it from being laid flat for tracing or because pinning in the original could cause damage." In the book, she uses this method on a dress and purse.

I used the fabric rub-off with my jeans and the paper rub-off with the blazer. Here's a quick-and-dirty demo.

Paper Rub-Off

Get a piece of cardboard and tape craft paper to it.

Draw two perpendicular lines. The garment will need to line up correctly so you need these as a guide.

Lay the garment along these lines, in this case front right to the side seam (which will be symmetrical to front left with the exception of the buttons/buttonholes). Center Front or Back will likely go on the vertical line, the bottom of the garment on the horizontal. It won't line up perfectly because of darts, curved hems etc. but you should get the vertical line fairly lined up. 

Stick pins through all seams at important points. It's going to look like your source garment is undergoing some serious acupuncture. The pins perforate the paper, creating a guide. Here I marked the pocket flap edges and the bodice contour dart. 

The collar, shoulder seam and armscye

Once you remove the pins and garment, you'll find all these perforations. Connect the dots!

Voila! You have a pattern piece. It may need some tidying up, but I've found these methods so far so accurate that I'm 95 percent of the way there.

After I traced the front piece, I traced the two back pieces, the two collar pieces, and the facing. I'm using a sleeve from a previous project. Here they are:

What I do after this point:

• Lay the cut pieces on the garment, double-checking my work. Add or subtract as needed. 
• Adjust the pattern to accommodate the darts, adding width. 
• Make pattern alterations for fit*
• Add seam allowances (I do this directly on the fabric)
• Sew the garment. If you need help with instructions, use existing pattern instructions from a similar garment. You also have the very handy original nearby to examine as you construct.

I know I spoke about why I love this method in a previous post: You begin with the fit. But in that case, I was copying my favorite jeans. This time around I'm copying a great looking but ill-fitting garment and I'm realizing a finer point: I may be able to skip making a muslin altogether.

*Typically we make the muslin to see how the garment will fit, but I already have the garment. And wearing it, I can tell I need a small bust adjustment, about an inch more width in the waist and hip, and want to shave the length on bodice and sleeve by an inch. Once I trace the pattern, I can make the changes and cut straight into my fashion fabric. We'll see how this works out.

I'm very much a novice at this method but I hope this was useful to some of you. Any questions?

The 80/20 Rule: Examining My Wardrobe

When I embarked on my Fashion on the Ration challenge in January, I did not expect to be utterly obsessed with what's in my closet. Though I haven't been detailing the challenge much here, I assure you it dictates all of my shopping decisions and many of my sewing ones. One unexpected side effect of the challenge: Regular purging of the wardrobe.

I'm an advocate for having a smaller, curated wardrobe, though what that entails still mystifies me. It feels like my wardrobe's in constant flux: I've been able to accrue a number of garments via thrifting or as hand-me-downs this year, but there's nothing worse than not being able to buy/find what you want and constantly having to look at a closet full of stuff that never gets worn.

So many of the unworn lovelies—either bought, thrifted or handmade—have moved on. I've been pawning off prized pieces on friends, sold some to consignment shops, and have donated bags to the thrift store. Now that my active wardrobe (for the season) is down to about 100 pieces, I tallied them up and got geeky with the data.

No surprises here: I love denim and casual pants, cardigans and t-shirts. I'm growing a wee dress, skirt and jacket garden. And I buy way too many tops/blouses. Seventy percent of my pants have some stretch and nearly half my wardrobe is knit. In other words, I'm a modern gal with more feminine aspirations. There's a ruffle in there somewhere.

But then I looked at just my tried-and-trues, which I define as not just the things that I wear and feel great in (I'm looking at you, thrifted Michael Kors shift dress) but the things I reach for on a regular basis (at least 1-2 times a week). The numbers shrink considerably. In fact, it's the Pareto Principle in action: I wear 20 percent of my wardrobe 80 percent of the time.

Some insights:

• I either need to stop buying layering tanks and tops/blouses or zone in on the ones that I do wear and replicate what I like about them
• Skirts, I think, are the big culprit. I'm still not totally hip to wearing skirts. Too slim and I look like a pencil, too full and I don't know what to pair it with. So I keep thrifting these tops thinking they'll make me into a skirt-wearing woman.
• Lifestyle has a lot to do with it. I often commute to work via bike and pants and tees and flats are the easiest way to get out the door, on the bike, and through the day. Wearing a skirt or dress means wearing bike shorts and pinning the skirt together. Ugh.
• There's no such thing as enough cardigans. Once I'm off the ration, watch out.
• All my TNTs are neutrals: dark denim, black, gray. Outliers: A fuschia knit dress and a striped tee.
• Besides neutrals, I love jewel-tones. Favorite contrast colors: Red and white. 
• Most of my color comes from cardigans, shoes, and scarves.

If I was completely practical about it, I'd zone in on this 20 percent as a guide in all my sewing/shopping. These would be my marching orders, to buy or sew:

• Jeans or casual pants with at least 2 percent stretch and great recovery in a neutral or jewel-toned color. Straight-leg or skinny, 3/4, 7/8 and full length. Mid-rise.
• Invest in great quality tanks and tees in neutral colors and jewel-toned colors.
• Invest in great quality cardigans. Neutrals covered, so look for contrast colors not in the rest of the wardrobe: mint green, kelly green, seafoam, mustard. 
• Recreate the favorite knit dress for the warm months using a thick knit.
• Make skirts that are fitted in the waist and hip and have movement at the knee. 
• Buy flats in multiple colors. 

Not a bad foundation, eh? But admittedly a bit boring. What about dresses and lingerie and vintage clothes and prints? I love them all, but evidence shows that I never wear them.

What I'm realizing is that I have two modes of operation:

1) Super-organized planner lady who makes pie charts and thinks about things like the Pareto Principle, and

2) Shiny Object! Must. Have. Pretty. Dress.

I suspect, sewing-wise, the cooler months bring out #1 and and warmer months #2, but I likely vacillate back and forth all the time. Nevertheless, it's no surprise that I've got on the cutting table: a pair of navy ankle pants, a gray-ish A-line skirt, a fuschia v-neck tee, and a black blazer. Some TNT shoe-ins, some reaching to expand my style. 

What about you? What does your wardrobe and your tried-and-trues have to tell you and could it help your sewing?

A Little Jacket: Fall Essential, Numero Dos

For my second item in the Fall Essentials Sew-Along and the Colette Patterns Fall Palette Challenge, I made myself a little jacket.

I say little because 1) I'm not used to wearing jackets, I've been a die-hard cardigan gal through-and-through and 2) the hem is shorter than what I'm used to! It feels little.

The inspiration can be largely traced back to EmersonMade's Tweed Jacket, inspired by the 60s.


Need I say more? And then there's this lovely from J. Crew:


I was also inspired by gorgeous jackets made by Sunni and ScruffyBadger. So I decided to take the great jacket leap.

Taking a cue from Solvi, I'll try and start "reviewing" my projects -- it's helpful for me to reflect on a finished object, and I hope some of it is helpful to you.

Pattern: Built by Wendy Coats & Jacket Book, Fitted Jacket pattern with help from two other jacket/coat patterns on transforming the jacket into a notched collar blazer.

Type of Garment: Jacket/Blazer

Fabric Used: Shell—Vintage felted wool, brown. Lining—purple, likely polyester. Both thrifted.

Notions: Two buttons, 3/4 inch

Age in stash: Pattern, less than a year. Wool, about two years. Lining, new to me.

Size: Small

Pattern alterations or any design changes you made:

I made a quick muslin and realized I needed a few alterations to the pattern.

• Sleeve too full in the upper arm, tightened by an inch using technique in Fit for Real People
• Small Bust Adjustment on princess seams
• Lengthened bodice by 1-1/2 inches, shortened sleeves to 3/4 length
• Added rounded edges to front of jacket
• Drafted facing and full lining.
  
• Added 3/4 extension for button closure to front pieces
  
• The collar didn’t reach all the way to the front and the bodice front seemed quite low for what I was going for. Copied a collar and undercollar and adjusted front bodice from another pattern to get a notched collar. Needed to add height to rear bodice to make the collar wrap around the neck better.

Instructions: In these franken-patterns, I need to use a pattern that closely approximates what I’m going for. So, I mostly used the incredible directions from the Colette Lady Grey coat, since it’s also a fully-lined, princess seam jacket. The only change was that I love the way BBW patterns sew the sleeves flat (rather than set-in), so I did that.

Did it meet expectations?

At first, I was obsessed about whether the collar was hugging my neck enough, since I was after a tailored look. I actually had to add a piece mid-construction to help this problem but the spread between the two lapels is still wider than I’d like. I was also dubious about the length, wondering if it was too short. Another 1-1/2 longer might be perfect. And in the next iteration I may rotate the shoulder seam forward a tad.

That said, this little jacket is really growing on me. I love that it’s fully lined, and it seems to pair nicely with skirts and dresses and deep colors with higher necklines. It’s really something that well help entice some things out of my closet, will help me with new combos.

What did you particularly like or dislike about the pattern?

Despite all my changes, I’ll certainly look to the basic fitted jacket pattern or others in the book for future jackets/coats. It’s really a great foundation and the possibilities seem endless. A muslin, though, is a must.

Also, this is the first time I’ve worked with a pattern without seam allowances. Love it. So easy. So inviting to experiment.

Would you sew it again? Would you recommend it to others?

Definitely. I’ve thought about using other variations on the basic fitted jacket for a good-looking fleece jacket this winter. Nothing seems to serve me better when I’m chilly. Something I could both wear to bed and out to the store.

Any new techniques?

Yes! I took a foolhardy whack at padstitching the collar, but I used real canvas rather than hair canvas. I’d only do this again if it was absolutely necessary the lapels stay in place.

And bound buttonholes, baby! Still trying to find a technique I really love. Tried Gertie’s and settled on the patch method in the Reader’s Digest book. Next time, I’ll try Tasia of Sewaholic’s tute. Not sure if they’re worth it, but in something with just a few buttonholes it does give it a nice look.

Conclusion:

Generally, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m only pleased with something I’ve made a second time around because the first time’s all about learning my way around the type of garment. Though I’ve never made a jacket with a notched collar before, last year’s semi-success of the Colette Lady Grey coat and the muslin infinitely helped. I think this is paving the way for me to start wearing jackets in place of my omnipresent cardigans.

What about you? Are you a jacket gal? And if so, how would you describe your favorite jacket?

R.I.P.: A Graveyard of Failed Pants

Since I hatched the desire to sew garments, I wanted to make pants. And in typical Ali-style, my yen for them far exceeded my ability to make them. I had just finished my first skirt (which also ended up unused) and was still precarious about the importance of zippers and hems.

Spring 2010

I started with this pattern from 1968.


I ended up with these red pants:

I busted my butt on these, but the problems, they are a-plenty:

• I chose the wrong pattern. I wanted cigarette pants and the Colette Patterns Clover didn't exist yet. I kept slimming down the leg, it was torture. An 1/8 inch here, an 1/8 there.
• I chose the wrong fabric for cigarette pants. Fabric was a thick old tablecloth, crease-friendly
• I was clueless about the stretch I was accustomed to wearing and didn't provide enough ease in the hips and upper thigh. The upper thigh seems like a magical area to me -- too tight, too bad. The elastic waist shimmied down when I walked. I had to pull them up when I was sitting.

Alas, RIP, Red Birthday Pants.

Summer 2010

Then, I tackled some Burda Ruby shorts. Luckily, the hip and rise on the Ruby shorts were nearly perfect. On the second denim pair, I lowered the crotch, making them infinitely more wearable. They are my de facto shorts pattern. 3-inch inseam.

At the end of summer, I had a hankering for some capris. I had thrifted yards of this stretchy navy twill. You can read about the saga here, "The Capris that Weren't."

The problem? Like my first pair, I chose the wrong pattern, Built By Wendy s3850. It's a great pattern, but it's for straight leg shorts, 3/4 or full length. I wanted tight, below-the-knee capris. I kept messing with the side and inseams. Better, in my opinion, to begin with something that approximates what you're after.

In hindsight, I learned:

• How to install a front fly zipper and side pockets. I used this pattern to guide me through making my jeans knockoff.
• How to use a TNT pattern (in this case, the Ruby shorts) to judge fit, especially if not making a muslin. I needed to take in the side seams at the hip and rear seams at the waist considerably.
• Though all my messing with it has left the inside a mess (and I'm therefore less likely to wear it), in the few times I do wear it now, I find that I'm not bothered by the issues that made me obsessive before. Distance has lead to forgiveness but also the realization that fitted pants may wrinkle and stretch as we move around. Just go with it.
  

Fall 2010 & Spring 2011

Armed with Cal Patch's Design-it-Yourself Clothes: Patternmaking Simplified, I began drafting my own pants pattern, inspired by this lovely pair from the Sewing Princess.

I first took apart a pair of thrifted pants and put them back together. Whew! I had no space for my butt to breathe and the leg was all wrong. On a short frame, I just looked frumpy. This is when I began to learn the importance of the difference in shape between the rear (lots of room!) and front piece, and the shape of the leg. So bad it wasn't even picture worthy.

I tried again, using a polyester stretch, also thrifted, pictured at left.



Not a very flattering photo, but these are one of the few me-made items I'm so glad I made. They fit like leggings (stretchy, elastic waist) but can also be work worthy since they're black and slim, not skinny. Perfect for traveling. Problem? I couldn't replicate this. I spent so much time taking in the seams and not keeping track.

Last Spring, I took a third whack at the self-drafted pants pattern using thrifted khakis, pictured at right. They don't look terrible, but again, I spent so much time trying to get the leg just right and in the end, it was all shoddy construction and the wrong fabric. RIP, khakis.

Fall 2011

Which brings us to the present, with the knockoff of my favorite GAP 1969 Real Straight Jeans. Many of you said you wished you could do a similar project, but consider my history of trying to get it right. :0 Success (I love 'em-I wear 'em)-Failure ratio: 2:6. That's six pairs made but never or rarely worn.

What I learned, though all of this:

• Quality begins with the quality of the pattern or the garment you're copying. Otherwise, it's patience, patience, patience (or: frustration, frustration, frustration).
  
• Simple pants are actually quite easy to make (side seams, inseams and crotch seam) but fit is everything -- good to keep a pair that's similar nearby to check measurements, i.e. rise, inseam length, etc. Wide-leg pants may be a good place to start -- much, much easier to fit.
  
• I became acutely aware of my slim hips and sway back and where I like my pants to fall on both my waist and my leg. You'd think I'd realized this after a lifetime of wearing pants, but alas, no.
• Most of us are accustomed to wearing pants with at least 2% stretch.
  
• Having one pattern that tells you how to do everything you want is priceless. For me, it's S3850 -- as much as I dig the vintage look of the streamlined no-pockets + side zip, on a casual day, I still long for belt loops and front flys and pockets I can sink my hands into.

So, after numerous failed attempts to make slim ankle pants, I'm going to take what I've learned and jump into Colette Patterns' Clover Sew-Along. I'll make a pair with the navy stretchy twill used in my Capris-that-Weren't just as they were designed. And perhaps in the Spring I can do a colorful color with a lower rise, pockets and the whole bit.

But all of this has got me thinking. If you told me in Spring 2010 that it would take me six failed attempts to get a pair of pants I could be really proud of, I might have given up sewing all together.

Of course, now I'm thrilled that I can make pants and I know that failures are unavoidable, even for experienced seamstresses, and I've learned an incredible amount about my favorite garment along the way. But, really, this post can either be disheartening (as a new seamstress) or validating ('cause you've been there, too).

What about you? How many unwearable garments have you left in you wake? And has it been worth your time?

Happy sewing, all! I've got some finished objects to share with you soon :)