Lady Grey fitting and cutting

Contrary to my initial expectations, I had a sewing-tastical weekend.  I skipped out on my marathon training on Saturday and sewed for most of the day, while the Mr. and his classmates de-bugged the software they're developing.  Then, on Sunday, I sewed all afternoon and into the evening.  So I was able to make a ton of progress on my Lady Grey coat.

After my recent experiences trying to tweak the fit of the low-back dress, I've resolved to make muslins until all--and I mean all--of the fitting issues in a garment have been addressed.  So, I made a second muslin of my Lady Grey to check my alterations to the coat front.  Since I was happy with the sleeves on my first version, I omitted them this time.  I made sure to add the collar so I could mark the roll lines.

I'm happy with how the lapels lie, so that alteration was successful.  (Don't forget, if you make a similar alteration, that you need to alter the front facing and lining pieces to match!)  For this muslin, I also removed 1 in. from the lower edge at every seam except the center back, and I like the amount of volume this leaves.

This muslin did have one weird fit issue, which I suspect was an indirect consequence of shortening the lapel: there was too much fullness in the princess seam above the bust, which created a weird pooch/second boob.  Not the best look.  Here it is with the fullness pinned out.

I marked the new princess line with chalk on the inside, took my pieces apart, trued the lines,  re-sewed and checked the fit.  The result wasn't perfect, but my muslin has a very stiff hand and doesn't ease gracefully, so I decided not to worry about it.  Sure enough, that seam is great on the actual coat.  But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Next, I marked the roll lines using a sharpie.  (Actually, the Mr. did it.  This is one of those operations where the Heisenberg principle of fitting applies: if you turn to see the roll line, you'll change it.  So best to enlist assistance.)  It was neat how clearly you could see these lines form in the muslin, even though it's so much lighter-weight than the actual coating I'll be using.

Based on Gertie's suggestion, I decided to use my muslin pieces as the pattern to cut and mark my coat fabric, so once I was happy with the fit, I took the muslin apart, pressed each piece flat, and transferred all the markings to the pieces with a sharpie.

Here are my completed pieces.  According to Claire Shaeffer's book Couture Sewing, this is called a "toile."  (Anyone know how to pronounce this?  Does it rhyme with "foil," or with "fall"?)  Apparently, this is how patterns are made in the couture houses.  I don't think it took any more effort than transferring my markings back to the paper pattern would have.  And the muslin pattern pieces were definitely easier to pin and cut.

By last night I had everything cut, and I had a chance to start the tailoring, which I'll write about in my next post.  But so far, I'm in love!  And I can't say enough about Gertie's excellent tutorials!  But more on that soon.

Fitting the low-back dress

For the Burda low-back dress, I made a straight 40 for my first muslin, and the fit overall is pretty good.  The front looks great, although I need to make a bust adjustment.  The back was a bit trickier, especially since it's difficult to see the back without twisting or arching your shoulders, which changes the fit.  (Mad props to the Mr. for helping me mark my alterations after I forgot to bring my muslin to the Southeast Michigan sewing meet-up on Saturday.)

Here are the alterations I'm planning to make:

1. Fix gaping at the armhole

This is a pretty standard alteration, and I've done it several times before.  I pinched out the extra fullness at the armhole to create a second bust dart.  I'll transfer that to the flat pattern, then use slash-and spread to combine it with the original dart.

2. Create a curved seam at the center back

As drafted, the pattern is baggy in the small of my back, and too tight at the top of the back.  So I'll create a curved seam-line, adding about 5/8 of an inch more width at the top, and removing about an inch lower down.







3. Shorten the back

When I stand straight, the edges of the v-back ripple and stand away from my body.  Lynne helped me decide the best way to fix this.  I pinned out a wedge-shape section just below my shoulder blade, which tapers to nothing at the side seam.  I'll transfer this to my flat pattern and remove the wedge, which will shorten the back edge, while leaving the side seam length unchanged.


 No dilly-dallying on this project, since it needs to be done for a wedding in a few weeks, and I can't count on finding much time to sew over thanksgiving.  So hopefully, I'll have a finished dress to show you soon!

Drafting: A Midriff Yoke

In this post, I'll walk you through the process of drafting a midriff yoke like the one I used on my brunch dress.  This style can be very flattering, because it emphasizes the slimmest part of one's frame, just below the bust.  And it's very easy to draft.

First, trace your bodice front and back onto a clean piece of paper.  Then, decide how wide you want your yoke to be.  You should definitely use the bust circle on your sloper as a reference point, but it's also a good idea to use a pattern or RTW dress you like as a comparison.  Full disclosure: In my original design, I went with a 3-inch yoke, and it was terrible!  The bodice was totally disproportionate, and gave me an awful, saggy-boob look.  So I started again and made a 4-inch yoke, which was infinitely better.  The moral of the story is: designs sometimes look different when you're wearing them than they did when you're drafting them, and if I had compared my design to a dress that I liked, I might have avoided this miss-step.  I didn't take pictures of my drafting the second time around, so be aware that the pictures I'm using here are from the initial version.

Mark the width of your yoke on the front and back bodice.  Measure up from the bottom (waistline) edge.  Your line will be discontinuous across the waist-fitting dart.

Label the center front of your yoke, then cut your yoke pieces apart from the bodice and tape them together.  If you made a hash mark across the line before you cut, you'll have a notch to line up you're pieces when you sew.

Now you have two pieces--a bodice front and a front yoke--both cut on the fold.

Do the same to the back:

If you need curved darts to get a good fit, like I do, you'll need to make some additional adjustments to your bodice front.  (Curved darts aren't marked on your sloper: you draft with straight darts, then add the curves in afterward to adjust the fit).  To adjust for curved darts, increase the width of the bodice dart, and remove additional width from the upper edge of the front yoke.  I did this experimentally, by pinning my muslin to get the fit I wanted, then transferring it to my pattern pieces.  But I suppose, if you were scrupulous, you'd have noted down the curve of your darts when you originally fit your sloper, and you could just refer to that information when you were drafting the pattern.

Notice that the midriff yoke you've created here is contoured: in other words, it's not simply a straight strip of fabric.  The result of this, in the end, is a better-fitted garment, since the yoke follows your particular curves.

That's it for the midriff yoke!  In the next drafting post, I'll pick up where we left off here, and walk you though the steps of drafting a sleeveless surplice bodice.

Draping vs. Flat-Pattern: A Meditation

Last night, I attended part of an introductory seminar on draping.  (Unfortunately, I ended up having to leave early.)  At this point, I've done a fair bit of flat-pattern drafting, but no draping, so here are my admittedly uninformed thoughts on the two methods.

Clearly, draping is sexier.  I mean, come on, it's just cool.  Draping a garment on a dress-form totally makes you look like a slick fashion designer.  Beyond the coolness factor, it also seems that draping gives you more control over your design than flat-pattern drafting.  Because you're manipulating the fabric on the form, you can evaluate things like balance and dart placement as you go, rather than waiting till you prove your pattern in muslin to see whether you like the results.  That seems like a real advantage to me, especially with more complicated designs.

That said, draping seems just as inefficient as flat-pattern drafting: in both cases, you have to create a design, copy or transfer your finished pattern pieces to paper, then prove the pattern in muslin and make adjustments from there.

And it also seems to me that draping has some real disadvantages for the home sewer.  First of all, the dress-form seems like a real limiting factor.  A good one is expensive, not to mention difficult to store.  And, unless you have a custom form created to match your specific body, the fit of your garment is always going to be an approximation.  Depending on how wonky your own personal shape is, you might or might not be able to find a form that matched your dimensions well.  And, having bought that form, god help you if you change size or shape appreciably any time in the next ten years or so!

So, I could be way of base here, but this is the impression I got: Draping is cool, but it's much more useful if you're doing Fashion Design, rather than sewing for yourself.  If you're a Designer, you'll want the added control and flexibility that draping on a form will give you in creating your designs.  And you'll probably also be creating prototypes, rather than garments designed to be worn by a particular person with his or her own unique shape (to my mind, runway models don't count).  But if you're sewing for yourself, you'll probably be needing more pencil skirts than pleated evening gowns, and you'll want them to fit you impeccably.  You also might find yourself unwilling to integrate an expensive, person-sized inanimate object into your already cramped apartment.

So at this point I'd say that, if you want to become a Fashion Designer, buy yourself a form and get draping!  But if your goals are modest and your resources are limited, like mine are, flat-pattern drafting is way to go.

What do you think?

Curvy Girls Need Curvy Darts

I finally finished a draft of my dissertation chapter yesterday, so hurrah, I have a bit of time and brain-power for sewing again!  I know I owe you pics of the WGD, but we keep having lousy weather on the weekends.  (My friend Thom, who just bought a convertible, says: "What do you call the first sunny day after two days of rain?  Monday!")  So you'll just have to wait for mother nature to accommodate a photo-shoot.

In the meantime, I've been working on a muslin of my brunch dress.  My first draft of the bodice was all wrong--so wrong, in fact, that I can't actually post photos online.  For my second attempt, I increased the width of the waistband from 3 to 4 inches, which yielded a more balanced shape, a more tasteful neckline, and less of the unfortunate droopy look that characterized the first version.

I still wasn't thrilled with the fit, though.  The back was great, and the waist measurement was correct at my natural waist, but the front still seemed kind of baggy under the bust.  Then, I had an epiphany...

...curved waistline darts!

When I originally fitted my sloper, Gwen explained that I needed to sew curved waist darts.  Instead of the traditional triangle-shaped darts, these darts have more of a tear-drop or lozenge shape.  The length of the dart is the same, and its width at the widest point is the same too.  The only thing that's different is where the fullness is released by the dart.  (If you've ever taken calculus, think about the difference between a line and a curve--the rate of change.)

Once I wrapped my mind around the idea of a curved dart, I was amazed by the difference it made in the fit of my garments.  Instead of bagging weirdly, they fitted much closer to my ribcage, which created a slimmer look overall.  Understandably, this alteration is common for (ahem) "full-figured" women.

I used curved darts to great effect in both of my sheath dresses, but I didn't even think about it when I was drafting the brunch dress.  Empire waist-lines are supposed to be flattering for curvy girls because they fit close under the bust, so I was confused when my muslin didn't.  But pinning out the equivalent of my standard curved darts made all the difference!

Here's the dress before the adjustment:

And here it is with the darts pinned--what a difference!

Here are the adjustments I made in my pattern pieces to reflect this alteration.  For the bodice, I increased the width of my bust dart one inch at the waistline seam, maintaining the same length of the original dart.  For the waistband, I removed an inch on the upper edge to match the adjustment in my dart, then tapered down to nothing at the waistline, which already fit correctly.

This made a significant difference in the shape of my front waistband piece, which is now much less curved.  (The old waistband is on top in this picture, and the new one is below.)

I'm confident enough with the changes I made in my muslin that I went ahead and cut my real fabric today.  Hopefully I'll have a dress to show you soon!  I'm also pleased, in a geeky way, that I diagnosed this fit issue and was able to make the changes I needed to fix it.  You never know, but I might be starting to get the hang of this sewing thing...