ggherself – The G. G. Files
…a Toronto woman of a ‘certain’ age who writes women’s fiction and business books…deeply interested in fashion, but mostly style, which as anyone knows is not the same thing…designs patterns, sews, reads style books…Gloria Glamont is my pseudonym.
I’m not sure how many people actually read the taglines on the blogs they read regularly. Anyone who has been reading mine will note that the tagline is “Life, Style, Creativity and More.” It says nothing about sewing, although you’d be justified in concluding that this blog is about sewing. Sewing is part of style, creativity and, arguably, life, n’est ce pas? The truth is that from my point fo view, one type of creative activity feeds another one and my design and sewing adventures are fed by my other creative outlet and vice versa. That other outlet is writing.
This should come as no surprise to anyone given that what you are reading right now is my writing. It’s just that I write in a variety of places. One fo those places is my books. It started years ago when I was a nonfiction writer specializing in health and medicine. Then, I morphed into a writing professor and then a fiction writer. If you’ve been with me for a while, you’ll know that my sewing and writing came crashing together a few years ago when I wrote The Year I Made 12 Dresses. (You have read this one, have you not??)
That one was followed by the rest of the series and a couple of one-offs. Here are a few examples …
Today, I have a new one for you.
Here’s what it’s about:
Life may not offer do-overs, but it might offer second chances.
Dr. Claire Barrett has it all. At least it seems that way to everyone but Claire. A successful doctor with two almost grown and successful children, an international reputation as one of the world’s finest pediatric surgeons, Claire at age fifty is as beautiful, stylish and driven as ever. She prides herself in making the best decisions to have gotten her where she is today. She did it all herself and from her home base in St. John’s, Newfoundland. But there is one decision that rankles. She should never have allowed Peter O’Brien to get away. She should never have agreed to the divorce. Was it her only mistake? Now she has a plan to fix that. She will win him back.
Eliza Houlihan Cohen, a New Yorker by way of Canada’s east coast, is a successful cookbook author. After years of putting up with her philandering husband Jake and his whining mother, she has finally broken free. And now that she’s met Dr. Peter O’Brien, she wonders if she might take another chance on love.
Eliza hates Miami, but when Peter asks her to take a cruise with him, ending in Miami, and she asks her daughter Izzy to meet her there for a holiday, Eliza decides she can cope. By the time her cruise through the Amazon reaches Miami, Eliza will wish she had never laid eyes on Peter’s ex-wife, Claire. The question is, though, will she feel the same about Peter?
Vanity, conceit and a single-minded pursuit of career goals, though, will only take you so far in this life. There comes a time when you must face the fact that everything is not about you.
…you can also join me on Facebook for sewing and books…
When you start a sewing project, which comes first: the design (the pattern) or the fabric? For most of my years since I learned to sew decades ago, I began with the design. There were so many reasons for this.
First, in the early years, I sewed so that I could have a wider variety of clothes. If I needed (or wanted) new pants or a formal gown even, I had to begin there, finding the right design. Then, I looked for fabric based on what was appropriate for the design. My next reason was that patterns had recommended fabrics listed on them so that would make finding something easier, n’est ce pas? Well, that only worked for me because, years ago, I didn’t know nearly as much about fabrics as I do now.
I’ve taken it upon myself over the years to learn as much as I can about types of fabrics, their fibre content, how they’re made, how they behave and what their applications might be. Once I knew this, if I fell in love with a particular fabric, I’d know just what kind of design it would suit. As I learned, though, I did make a few mistakes along the way.
My favourite reference book for fabrics.
More than once, I found myself working with a piece of fabric (sometimes fighting with it, if you must know) and ending up with a garment that was, at best, meh. At worst, god-awful and thus unwearable. So, every time I find a fabric I like, I am very cautious about finding the right design.
A few months ago, when I was buying shirt buttons in my local Fabricland (Canada’s big-box fabric retailer that can usually be found in suburban strip malls, but this one is oddly enough smack in the middle of Toronto’s mink mile, nowhere near the fabric district but in my neighbourhood), I stumbled on some fabric that drew me to it. I don’t buy a lot of fabric there because they are a bit too heavy on the polyester, which isn’t one of my favourite fabrics to wear, but I do buy notions. Anyway, I was buying interfacing when I was mesmerized by this fabric.
I was delighted to find that rather than polyester, it was rayon. And rather than being a smooth weave rayon (which I’d used disastrously in the past), it was a twill weave. I think that twill weave rayon has a wonderful hand and drape and is much more comfortable to wear than polyester, for example. So, naturally, I bought a couple of metres. But then, what to do with it? And I find myself in the dilemma I usually try to avoid.
Throughout the fall, I made shirts—men’s shirts. First, I made a new one for my husband, and then I made shirts for my sons for Christmas.
My husband at Christmas wearing his GG Shirt The boys with their new shirts at Christmas My husband’s shirt
You would think I’d be sick of making shirts, but I trotted out an old Burda pattern I’d found in the discard bin at Fabricland (another reason to shop there from time to time). For two dollars, I had acquired Burda 6908 with no plans for doing anything with it. It seemed like a match made in heaven for this fabric I’d fallen in love with—with its gold astrological figure on its blue background.
I chose View A—a tunicy thing with a back pleat. Now, it seems like a straightforward women’s shirt. But here’s the thing: I hated the length—far too long and far too much fabric to contend with while wearing—and I did not appreciate double on-boob pockets.
Then, as I looked more closely, I also realized I hated the cuff vents with their lazy little turned edges. So (*rolls eyes*) I had to haul out my GG Collection bespoke pattern that I made for myself a few years ago and redraw a few things on the Burda pattern, including drafting a cuff vent pattern.
My cuff placket design for this shirt to upgrade the cuffs.
Then, I went online to Etsy and contacted my favourite button artisan, Michèle, and asked her if she might be able to create custom buttons for me. The ones she did for me turned out to be spectacular, and I highly recommend Michèle. She designs and makes the buttons and operates BoutonsdAuj.
Aren’t the buttons just perfect?? And just pop the collar…
Once I had shortened the pattern to a more manageable length and created the pattern for the sleeve, working with the fabric was easy. I finally finished my first project for 2025. Yay!
I have no idea what I’ll be making next. First, I have a few weeks under a palm tree in the Caribbean to look forward to. There will be no sewing during that sojourn! I might take one or two pieces I made for myself last summer. Stay tuned!
What are you wearing this fall? If you’re anything like me, you’re interested in what’s current. Still, you don’t necessarily want to buy into the craziness of clothes that will be outdated in mere months—or trendy pieces that you have no occasion to wear, based on your lifestyle. What I like to do is to look at the trends to see which of them seems to have actually been around for a while (suggesting it’s something that’s slowly becoming classic) and which ones suit me and my lifestyle. The latter is probably more useful since there are lots of things I could fall in love with, and most of them would never fit into my life these days. I mean, where do these Instagram style influencers for women of a certain age ever wear all those fancy dresses and high heels? *rolls eyes*
And, really, who needs six sweaters, all of the same style but in different colours? Hmm … it just occurred to me that these people may never do laundry, thus the requirement for multiples of the same things. Just a thought.
So, let’s take a gander at what’s new, what’s crazy and what might work.
Country house chic (from Glamour magazine): Can you do plaid in such large amounts? I can’t, so this is a hard pass for me.
They’re also showing lots of Boho. Will this annoying trend never go away? Just imagine someone my age wearing Boho ruffles and fringes. I’m snorting with laughter at the thought.
And then there is all that denim on denim. There was a time when this look was called the “Canadian Tuxedo,” and not in a good way.
And then there is leopard, leopard and more animal print.
My question is this: Despite animal prints becoming “classic” in their way, how much animal print do you really want to wear? Or, more precisely, how much animal print do I want to wear? The answer is a bit, and it depends.
I want a touch of it in my wardrobe, but I’m not an all-over animal print kind of gal. I like it in small doses. And it depends on how it’s interpreted. That’s why, when I came across this paisley knit that reads like animal print (if you squint), I realized I could add a useful piece to my 2024 fall and winter wardrobe and feel just a bit on trend. And it was made from 95% viscose and 5% spandex, a combination that’s soft, drapeable and not overly synthetic (I’ll talk more about viscose a bit later).
The pattern is Simplicity 9451. It offers four different styles of top that beg for a drapey, buttery fabric to do justice to the draped shoulder and waist.
Views A and B drape from both the shoulder and the waist, while Views C and D drape only from the shoulder. There are also two neckline options and three sleeve (or lack thereof) options. This is a nice one for future projects.
I love a boat neckline (I have waxed rapturous about bateaux in several earlier posts), so I decided the mock neck (that some pattern reviewers said was choking) wasn’t an option for me. Pattern reviewers also said that the opening at the back gaped, so I sewed it right to the top. I know a boat neckline in this kind of fabric doesn’t need a keyhole opening to get it on. Despite opinions to the contrary, my head isn’t that big. 😅
Now, let’s talk about the fabric. You may be more familiar with viscose by its alternative name: rayon. Rayon (or viscose) is manufactured cellulosic fibre (MMCF), which means that it is created from trees. It’s referred to as a semi-synthetic since it does require significant treatment in its production. Since it’s made from a natural source, it has advantages over synthetics like polyester, another possible choice for this pattern.
Rayon is softer, more durable and has a buttery drape that most polyester can’t beat, and polyester cannot beat rayon’s breathability, that’s for sure. However, as a side note, if you’re really into sustainability and look only for fabrics that are created in a way that is gentler to the environment, you’ll need to do your homework. Not all rayons are created equal. Rayon (viscose) is indeed less toxic since it’s made from trees, but it uses chemicals in its production and like even cotton production, it uses a lot of water.
Also, rayon/viscose varies widely in its quality. Modal and lyocell (tencel) are both types of rayon but are not manufactured in precisely the same way or from exactly the same material, giving them slightly different qualities and qualities. In addition, “Viscose production also involves using caustic soda, carbon disulphide, and other toxic chemicals. Compared to certain types of rayon like lyocell, the viscose production process involves using more harsh chemicals.”[1]
This fabric was as smooth as silk and had to be treated that way. If you want to read about the technicalities and where I got this fabric, my piece on the Fabricville blog is HERE.[2]
So, how did it turn out? Well, I now have a comfy little piece that I might wear all day going about the business of life at this age, but I suppose if I dress it up a bit, I could wear it out to dinner—depending on the place, of course. *bats eyes*
[1] Viscose vs Rayon: A Comprehensive Comparison. https://www.greenhive.io/blog/viscose-vs-rayon
[2]Sewing the Trends: When Fabric and Design Work Together https://blog.fabricville.com/en/sewing-the-trends-when-fabric-and-design-work-together/
I love a great detail on a garment. It could be special top-stitching, a bias-cut sleeve vent or (and this may be my favourite kind of detail) a great button or six. What I’ve noticed, though, is that many ready-to-wear pieces lack these details. Sure, you can order some great buttons from your favourite online artisan and replace them, but I think it’s even better if you can design those details yourself when you’re sewing.
Over the years, I’ve tried to make some of my pieces unique.
This year, since I’ve been spending a great deal more time writing new books than sewing, I managed only a few pieces. One of the ones I’ve been most proud of is the jean-style jacket I made for my husband recently. I found this McCall’s pattern last fall …
… and asked my husband if he’d like to choose his own fabric. So, we took a (long) walk downtown to Queen Street West here in Toronto (the fabric district) and wandered in and out of a few shops until he found what he wanted—a grey-mix twill.
I have to admit that I’ve been spending a lot of my time sewing with silks and knits in recent years, and this was by far the stiffest, thickest one I’ve encountered in a long time. But I’m nothing if not willing to take on a new sewing adventure.
I began the project by creating a muslin. There was no way I was sewing this for my husband without knowing it would fit well. So, about those details …
As you can see on the pattern, it has four patch pockets, each of which has a flap and a button. To make the details even more interesting, the pattern designer set one on its side.
I asked my husband if he liked all the pockets since it seemed to me to be quite busy. Surprisingly, he liked them, so I made up the muslin with the pockets. What we discovered (the beauty of making a test garment) was that the sideways pocket with its flap and button looked like too much. So, I removed it and put it back on at an angle with no flap and voila! We had a new detail that we all liked better. Once we had it fitted well, it was time to move on with the creation.
I started by washing my 4 X 4-inch sample. I discovered that it washed well but didn’t dry well, so I prepped the fabric by washing it and hanging it to dry. Step one done.
I started with seam finish and top-stitching samples. I also tried my walking foot (which didn’t work well) and my quarter-inch foot. In the midst of all this, I discovered that there is such a thing as a quarter-inch foot with a guide, and I was ecstatic.
I immediately ordered one, and it made for the most accurate topstitching I could imagine. I also managed perfectly matched seams (I must have been under the magic spell of the sewing godmother!).
In the end, the pockets and the buttons added just the details that made this jacket something different—something special. And, what’s even better, my husband loves it!
Happy sewing!
When I started this blog all those years ago, I thought I would muse about my opinions on all manner of subjects related to women and style—especially women of “a certain age.” Fast forward six or so years, and I have found myself writing more and more about style as it relates to sewing. I’ve even taught myself how to tailor a blazer and make a Chanel-inspired Little French Jacket. About three years ago, as we were in the thick of the COVID pandemic, I started writing a novel that featured sewing and women’s transformation at its heart.
I’d been writing for decades—mostly nonfiction with brief forays into historical fiction—but this was different. When The Year I Made 12 Dresses was published, I didn’t know it would be number one in a six-book series. That was then.
Today, I am launching a new book. If you read Good Housekeeping: My Unexpected Adventures in Domesticity, you’ll already know Erica Flanagan. But she’s onto a whole new adventure.
Here’s the background:
For almost four decades, I’ve been married to a Newfoundlander who left the island when he was seventeen years old to go to university and never moved back, returning over the years only to visit his parents. Then, last year, something magical happened.
My husband and I took a ten-day trip back to Newfoundland to do a cross-island tour, something he had never experienced. Being a city boy from St. John’s on the east coast of the island, he had never travelled the Viking Trail or hiked in Gros Morne National Park on the Great Northern Peninsula. He had never been to see the Viking settlement at L’Anse aux Meadows or sailed a land-locked fjord.
So, we landed in Deer Lake and met our guide with a fancy SUV, just as Erica, Eliza, and the rest of the characters populating my newest book did.
That trip and my mother’s one-hundredth birthday last year inspired this story.
“On the island of Newfoundland at the edge of North America, if you’re not an islander, you’re a “come-from-away.” And if you were born here and left never to return, according to Nora Houlihan, who is about to turn one hundred, you’re the worst kind of CFA.
In celebration of her centenary, Nora has decreed that all her immediate family members—most of whom have deserted her and left her beloved Newfoundland—return to the island for her big day. But before they attend the party, she’s arranged for them to have a cross-island road trip in the hopes they will see what they’re missing and mend their wayward ways.
Her granddaughters Erica Flanagan and Eliza Cohen, feuding cousins, are both perplexed by the dictum but reluctantly agree to join their parents, Nora’s two children, and the rest of the cousins on the trip. Erica, a journalist who hails from Toronto and Eliza, a hardened New York cookbook author who left not only the country but converted from Catholicism to Judaism, are both less than impressed by the thoughts of hiking in Gros Morne, staying at roadside motels and eating codfish.
With the mysterious Gordie O’Brien as their tour guide, the Houlihan clan grudgingly embarks on the adventure of a lifetime, prying open their minds and, most of all, their hearts to breathtaking landscapes, friendly people and mouthwatering food. By the time they arrive in the city of St. John’s, they are ready to celebrate the one hundred years of the obstinate, tactless, enduringly obnoxious Nora. Or are they?
Before she lets them celebrate, Nora insists on a family meeting. Before she dies, Nora is intent on rattling a few family skeletons. By the time they emerge, the Houlihans will realize that they might have thought they knew their own family, but really, does anyone truly know their family?
They say you can’t choose your family, but if you could, would you choose the one you have?“
Hope you enjoy it.
Link for lots more info: https://patriciajparsons.com/we-came-from-away-that-summer-on-the-rock/
Buy it on Amazon: https://a.co/d/06fjbGEB
If you’re of a certain age, you probably remember something in junior high school called home economics. I know I do.
I remember that first “home ec” classroom I walked into my first week in grade seven. While the boys went off to something called “Shop” class to do things I never really understood at the time, we girls marched off into a fantasy world of cooking and sewing. I’m not sure when I had my lightbulb moment, but I do know that within the first few weeks of classes, I was in love with my sewing class. My love of cooking would take decades longer to kick in.
Now, as I look back at those golden days of selecting my first sewing pattern and entering the world of fabric shopping, I realize that some people looking on from the outside may have considered this to be a domestic art. And when I think about domestic arts, I think of housekeeping.
Here are some of the patterns I remember making in the 1970s. I was on a roll then, and none of them said housekeeping to me!
Historically, sewing was a vital skill in many households, primarily handled by women. Men, however, have also practiced sewing in various contexts throughout history. Consider that even contemporary fashion designer Marc Jacobs counts sewing among his essential skills as a haute couture designer.
Sewing encompasses a wide range of activities, including mending clothes, creating garments from scratch as a way to economize, and embellishing fabrics through techniques like embroidery and quilting. It’s these aspects of sewing—mending and sewing to save money—that made sewing one of those housekeeping activities. Sewing to save money in the twenty-first century, though, is something of a myth.
Two years ago, I stumbled upon an article about the magazine Good Housekeeping. It was about its celebration of one hundred years of publication. That got me curious about how far women’s magazines have come or not come since their inception. So, I explored early issues, moved on to the 1960s and 1970s issues when the women’s movement surely must have had an impact and then examined some more current ones. A lot has changed, and yet a lot has stayed the same. Then, I had an idea for a new book.
Enter that gaggingly stupid #tradwife movement that has sprung up online over the past few years. And when I heard about the “stay-at-home girlfriend” meme among the young and underemployed, I was sure there was a book here.
Earlier this year, the newest one was finally published. My heroine, Erica Flanagan, emerged in a very minor role at the end of It All Begins With Goodbye and has now found her new life.
The new book is called Good Housekeeping: My Unexpected Adventures in Domesticity. Here’s what it’s about.
ERICA FLANAGAN, uber-feminist and one of the stars of the afternoon television talk show, has honed her on-air bitch persona to perfection. But Erica is becoming increasingly impatient with the new breed of millennial women who seem to be regressing into homemaker mode. When she finally blows her stack on live television, her boss puts her on a six-month sabbatical. In all her fifty-three years on the planet, workaholic Erica has never had time on her hands. Erica needs a project.
With a burning desire to show all those young, stay-at-home, housewife women a thing or two, Erica embarks on a project to prove to the younger generation of women that they’re wasting their time on meaningless home-based activities—that they need to get a life. And if Erica, who doesn’t have a domestic bone in her body, can do it, she will have won the argument. But she never considered the consequences of the social media backlash.
Between her thirteen-year-old social media-savvy daughter Maddie, a budding filmmaker and the mysterious Betty Crocket, who keeps showing up unannounced, Erica finds herself on a wild domestic adventure and unexpectedly discovers she might not be who she thinks she is.
It’s not about sewing, but it’s got a few of those elements in it, and I’m told it’s funny—even hilarious at some points. You might enjoy it.
I don’t know about you, but I miss seeing Midge Maisel in all her 1960s fashion glory in The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel. I enjoyed this series, not least because of the extraordinary costumes. I’m only slightly obsessed with the 1960s (*bats eyes*), and this show gives us the 1960s in spades.
When I was writing my book Kat’s Kosmic Blues (the sequel-prequel to The Year I Made 12 Dresses), I immersed myself in the 1960s, and one of the most fabulous books I now own is Madly Marvellous, all about the costumes in, you guessed it, The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel.
I’m so obsessed that one of the characters in my new book, which is just about to be published (more about that in an upcoming post), is a character from 1960. All of this reminded me of a presentation I gave for an online sewing summit a couple of years ago. It was on the topic of using vintage patterns. But most people who talk about vintage patterns mainly focus on earlier ones—the 1940s and 1950s. I have no interest in reproducing earlier looks because they are too costumey to be useful in my life. But the 1960s? I can tweak those!
Have a look at an inspiration board I created a few years ago for a cruise collection I designed for myself. Several patterns from the 1960s were as much of an inspiration as anything else. Then more recently, 1970s patterns have inspired me as I planned sewing projects for seasonal wardrobes.
And although we love them, there are differences between the patterns of today and those of yesteryear.
First, there are style details that tell of an era. These are giveaways like the mod shift dress line of the late 1960s or the massive shoulders of the 1980s. And some of these shapes were related to the fact that undergarments were different then.
For example, this vintage bra dictated the bodice shape of its era.
And this wasp-waisted pattern from the 1950s required a girdle.
Second, the sizing was different and evolved through the ages. These days, new sewists are generally mortified to learn that if they wear a size eight in ready-to-wear, they’ll wear a size 14 in a sewing pattern.
The truth is that sewing pattern sizing itself changed four times before 1972, and many of the patterns you’ll find these days fall into what I call “vintage fit”—note that the waistline measurements were much smaller proportionately.
Today’s bodies don’t generally fit into vintage patterns without some modification.
You also might be interested to know that between 1967 and 1972, the bust point apex was lowered on sewing patterns by 5/8 (1.5 cm) because softer bra styles demanded it. At the same time, they added 1 inch to the waistline. Remember that before those years, women usually wore girdles. So, changes in undergarments also resulted in sizing changes.
Here’s how a size 16 sewing pattern changed:
Another note about sizing: Before the 1970s, vintage pattern envelopes contained only one size rather than the multiple sizes we see today.
Next are the fabric recommendations. A dress pattern that you might think ought to be made in a knit will often have recommendations for only woven fabrics. This is where you need to be careful.
This, of course, means that the pattern is created with more design ease. I’ll give you a few more hints about this when I show you my project in the next section. Also, on fabric selection: Fabric widths have gotten bigger.
Finally, there are differences in techniques for sewing these patterns. Seam allowances (varied from one patternmaker to another, but by the 1960s, they were more standardized- 5/8 in or 1.5 cm)
Use of facings: for example, necklines were almost always faced. Today, you might have been sewing for years and never have used a facing.
- Hems were generally created to be deeper and hand-sewn.
- Interfacing was stitched in before the days of iron-on.
- Centred zippers were the norm. Sometimes, we used lapped zippers. Now, you could put in an invisible one.
What this means is I always make a muslin for best results—a step I highly recommend.
Here are some examples of vintage patterns I’m using now. Let me tell you why I chose these ones.
McCall’s 5337 – 1960 (Size 16 ― Bust 36)
I’m in love with boleros, and today’s bolero patterns are often too detailed.
Simplicity 7264 – 1967 (Size 16 ― Bust 36)
I love the idea of a dress and matching jacket. It doesn’t fit that well into my current lifestyle, but if I choose the fabric carefully, I think I could make it work. But it does have one design problem― a flared skirt that screams 1960s. I will have to narrow the flare on this one.
I’ve made three LFJ’s, and this pattern looks like it might work for them.
McCall’s 2226 ― 1969 (Size 14 ― Bust 36)
This pattern reminds me of styles I loved as a teenager. But there’s something else. It has a funnel neckline that I think transcends the decades. Again, though, it has an A-line skirt that screams 1969, and really, unless you long for a Woodstock summer, who wants 1969 again? I’ll take a wedge out of the skirt and lengthen it from just below the waist.
McCall’s 2401―1999 (Size 14-16-18)
This one has a lot going for it for me.
- It has a timeless style― and one I am especially drawn to.
- It offers neckline variations
- It offers sleeve variations
…thus providing endless opportunities.
Of course, I do love the style of the 1920s and all those fabulous flapper dresses. But my current lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to them. Now, my writing is a different thing completely. You may remember Frannie Phillips?
Another year is coming to a close, and as I write this, it is the eve of New Year’s Eve 2023. And isn’t it the time of year when most people begin to assess the twelve months that have just elapsed before looking ahead to the next twelve? We’re like that as human beings—taking stock of the past before moving ahead.
So, I’ve been scrolling through Instagram over the past week, taking in all the “best nine of 2023” sewing projects completed by some terrific sewists I follow. So, of course, I thought I’d do the same. The problem I discovered, however, is that I don’t have nine “best-of” projects. I’m an aficionado of slow sewing at the best of times, and I believe that in 2023, I may have reached my slow-sewing pinnacle. I completed eight projects. But there were eight projects I enjoyed from beginning to end!
The year began with the acquisition of a new combination cover-stitch/serger for Christmas 2022. Of course, my first project was a challenge to myself to complete a project entirely using this new machine—no sewing machine permitted. To that end, I selected 6418 and leftover pieces of fabric and serged my way through to a new top. It was such fun!
In the spring of 2023, Fabricville (Canadian superstore for fabric shopping) asked me to participate in their semi-annual blog once again. I chose Vogue 1805 for my project, loving the twist on a striped shirt. I truly loved the finished product, but I do have to admit that I have yet to find an occasion to wear it! Maybe our upcoming trip to Brazil and the Amazon might be the pace? We’ll see.
Then I rediscovered Jalie’s “Charlotte” sweater pattern and whipped up a tweedy version with statement buttons I ordered from a wonderfully talented artisan on Etsy. The hand-made buttons were created by a woman in France, and this is not the last piece where her buttons will appear. (BTW, her shop is BoutonsdAuj). I got a lot of wear out of this one—it was great for flying!
In the fall, I chose McCall’s 8343 for my Fabricville blog project. This was such a fun one to make from French terry. Again, I have yet to wear it, but I made it to be worn in the dead of winter, and we have yet to have any really wintery winter weather here in Toronto. That day is not far off, though!
I also love making men’s shirts. So, when I did my twice-a-year foray to the Queen Street West fabric district here in Toronto, I asked my husband to select some fabric for a new bespoke shirt. If you’ve been following me for a while, you know that I created bespoke shirt patterns for both my husband and my son a while ago. I pulled out my husband’s and made this shirt for him.
As the year drew to a close, I finally used a piece of Joesph Ribkoff fabric that I’d bought earlier in the year. I thought it would make a terrific Vogue 9227. Hmm…not so much. I used the reverse side of the fabric for the contrast, and that should have been perfect. However, the black of the reverse wasn’t nearly as black as it should have been to complement the velvety blue and black exterior. I didn’t like the outcome as much as I thought I would, but I will wear this one anyway.
I closed off the year by finishing another Jalie Charlotte in red sweatshirt fabric embellished with tiny sparky dots (and whose inside is a fuzzy furry finish) just in time to wear it under the Christmas tree. It’s so warm and cozy that I believe I’ll get a lot of wear out of it through the upcoming long winter. We’re not off to warmer climes until March this year, so I have lots of time to consider making a few new pieces for that trip.
So, in my defence of making only eight pieces this year, I also wrote two books! It All Begins with Goodbye features Charlotte “Charlie” Hudson, the heroine of The Year I Made 12 Dresses and her foray into making a classic French jacket.
The second one I wrote during the past year is due out in January! Here’s a sneak peek…
I love the fall. It is, without a doubt, my favourite season, although after mentioning the crisp weather and the fall colours, I’m hard-pressed to tell you anything else I love about it. It is the harbinger of winter—which, in this neck of the woods, can be pretty unpredictable and nastily cold. The fall colours last only for a month or two (then there’s late November). And the most annoying thing of all: I never know what to wear!
This fashion issue is problematic here in Toronto because the fall mornings can be cool to cold, while the afternoons are often sunny and warmish. And then there’s the question of when the urban changeover arrives. Last year, my husband and I spent most of September in Spain and Portugal (an absolutely perfect trip, BTW), and the morning after we returned home, we went for a walk. The great seasonal changeover had occurred. Almost to a person, everyone had gone from wearing light colours to black—unrelenting black. Now, I am a fan of black, but this was so abrupt, and it happens every season. Black is the colour for downtown wear. So, where does that leave me and my sewing at this point? Working on it.
I decided to do a bit of research to figure out what’s on trend for this fall. I do love the trend thing, then I go and wear what I want. But still.
I found articles telling me the nine best trends for fall 2023, the 18 best things, the 20 most wonderful trends, the 14 things you need, blah-blah-blah. Was there anything worth taking away from this excess verbiage in support of buying more than you need? Maybe.
I noticed a few common threads. First and foremost, I noticed the colour of the season seems to be red. This trend makes me happy since I look great in red. Too bad none of my planned sewing projects include red! (These are examples of fall 2023 runway looks. I like the red, but really? Would you wear these? Where would you wear these?)
Then there’s sheer stuff (nope), metallics (maybe a bit of Christmas sparkle?), and then all that oversized stuff that looks like the models are swimming in clothes they bought by mistake because it wasn’t available in their size. Oh, my!
I do like the black coat trend, though. I guess I’m on trend there because I own about five such coats for varying temperatures (not to mention the already noted Toronto issue). Then there were white shirts—I have the one covered. Winter florals? Not going to happen here. And soft touch fabrics? That one I can get on board with. So, I’m making some soft-fabric things!
First up was another iteration of the Jalie Charlotte sweater I made last year for spring in a grey geometric pattern. I made my recent fall version in a double-knit sweatshirt fabric resembling tweed. I love the short length, and I added some buttons from my favourite artist-button maker on Etsy (Buttons D’anjou) to jazz it up a bit.
Next up was a cozy sweatshirt elevated by its cross-over shawl collar and another of the beautiful art pieces in the form of a leftover button.
The fabric is a soft, brushed-back sweatshirt fabric, and it was a bit challenging to sew in this pattern—McCall’s 8343, view C.
I did this piece for the Fabricville blog, and that post has more details on the actual sewing of this garment. Here’s a link to that piece.
The next project is a top I’ve been planning since I bought the Joseph Ribkoff fabric last year.
How often do you make a new garment following every single line of the pattern and every single direction about how to sew it together? If you’ve been sewing for more than a nanosecond, I’m willing to bet that it is rare for you to do this. And how often do you look at a commercial pattern and say to yourself, “I generally like it, but I’m not so enamoured about the…fill in the blanks.” It could be the sleeve length, the yoke at the back that seems unnecessary, the amount of design ease. Take your pick.
So often, these days, a commercial pattern is only the beginning. Does this mean you’re “hacking” the pattern? (*rolls eyes*) Or perhaps it means you’ve found a better way to do something or a way to improve the design and fit—for you. This is what makes commercial patterns fun. So, where did we get the idea that this was “hacking?”
If you have spent more than ten seconds on Instagram, you’ve probably seen oddities as you scroll. I see scarf hacks, travel hacks, packing hacks, T-shirt hacks, cooking hacks, life hacks, and the list goes on. Hacking seems to be all over the place.
In my view, here’s what these really mean:
- Scarf hack = scarf-tying methods
- Travel hack = buying a shirt that rolls up small (Yes, this was really called a travel hack.)
- Packing hack = using common sense and buying packing cubes
- Cooking hacks = using the right tool
- T-shirt hacks = putting it on upside down and tying it over your shoulder (or something like that)
- Life hack = using common sense
The term’s actual meaning —at least according to online dictionaries—is gaining unauthorized access to data in a system or computer.” Computer hackers, anyone? So, I guess the idea of hacking just naturally migrated to doing “unauthorized things” to everything. This is pure BS. And, as far as I’m concerned, it denigrates what you’re doing when you redesign something. It’s a creative pursuit—unlike simply being smart enough to buy a T-shirt that doesn’t wrinkle for travelling. (*rolls eyes—again*)
And even if you believe there’s something a bit “unauthorized” about making redesign changes to your pattern, some of the pattern companies now have the nerve to suggest they’re selling a pattern designed to be hacked. Dear god, where’s the unauthorized creativity in that?
All Well Sewing Patterns offers what they call a “hacking guide.” It’s just a pattern with a simple body and variations. You take your pick. There’s nothing hacky about that—or even very creative.
(Image credit: https://allwellworkshop.com/what-is-a-hacking-guide)
Then there’s Simplicity 7376. Hacking? It’s just a pattern with variations!!
There is no such thing as pattern hacking. There is only pattern redesign. Calling it hacking is just a way for you to be tricked into thinking it’s something slightly subversive. Have a look at the patterns you own. Are there a few that could use a bit of creative redesign to improve them for you?
When I made Butterick 6324, I used View A with View B front band but not in a contrasting colour. I put it on the bias and lengthened the sleeves to make a cuff. This is a bit of pattern redesign. No hacking involved.
I made so many changes to McCalls 8086 design that it was hardly the same pattern in the end. What I liked was the shirt dress base, but I didn’t want roll-up sleeves, and the whole thing had too much design ease. So, I redesigned the sleeves and curved the body to fit better. Again, redesign.
Vogue 9270 was so awful I redesigned it late in the sewing process. It doesn’t look remotely like the original pattern, does it?
So, here’s what I’m saying. Be creative. Don’t be fooled into thinking you must use a commercial pattern design as it is presented to you. Decide what you like and how it will work for you. And have fun creating your personal design by redesigning a commercial pattern. Just stop hacking!