Muslins (Toiles) I Have Known and Loved

I just love making muslins. I don’t know what it is about those ugly, non-wearable garments that I love so much, but I do. Maybe it’s the freedom of knowing that accuracy is essential, but finishing is not. Perhaps it’s because it permits tweaking and fussing and getting it just right. Or maybe it’s because you can write on them and pretend you’re a real designer. Yes, I think that’s probably what I like the most! Which brings me to my horror at the very thought of a “wearable muslin.”

The muslin I created for my husband’s denim jacket last year. Pocket placement was key.

I mean, isn’t the term “wearable muslin” something of an oxymoron? I believe it is. Hear me out. If a muslin is for tweaking fit and design and fabric choice, then you do need to be able to rip it apart, put it back together, and mark on it. So, let’s take a deeper dive into muslin-making.

 A muslin (also called a *toile* in some regions) is a test version of a garment made from inexpensive fabric Wearability isn’t an issue!), usually unbleached cotton muslin or another affordable material with similar weight and drape to the final fabric (when possible. At least use cheap knit fabric if the final garment is to be made from a knit!). It is created before cutting into the actual fabric to test the fit, construction, and design of a garment. And when you’re using expensive fabric that gives you pause before that first slice through with your shears, then having already established that the thing will fit gives a lot of comfort, I’ll tell you.

So, why do we take the time to make them? Here are a few reasons.

1. Fit testing. A muslin allows you to check the fit of a garment on a body or dress form before committing to the final fabric. As I alluded to above, this helps prevent costly mistakes. 
2. Pattern Adjustments: a muslin helps you refine the pattern, making necessary alterations for comfort, proportion, and style. Any needed tweaks can be transferred to the final pattern before cutting the real fabric. 
3. Design refinement: A muslin lets designers (and home sewists) see how the garment’s proportions and lines look in real life, often on your real body, allowing for modifications to improve the overall aesthetic. Even small things like pocket placement or cuff width can be finessed if necessary.
4. Fabric considerations: While muslin fabric doesn’t always behave exactly like the final fabric, it still provides a general sense of how the design will hang and move. Some sewists make additional test garments from fabric with a closer match to their final choice.
5. Practice for construction: … and order of operations. I cannot tell you how often this has come in handy as I’ve navigated a tricky technique or one that I don’t do often. Making a muslin allows you to practice techniques, test seams, and troubleshoot fiddly construction steps before sewing the final garment. 

In my early sewing years, I had never even considered this. It wasn’t something I was taught. We just took the commercial pattern, did a bit of tissue-fitting and were off to the races. However, when I discovered the joy of making a Little French Jacket and couture techniques, I discovered that making a muslin could allow me to create an entirely new pattern. There again, how can you use a muslin to make your pattern if you think it should be wearable? (Excuse my continuing rant.) After all, cutting apart that ugly little adjusted garment to create a new, accurate and completely custom pattern is the goal, n’est ce pas?

Here’s my tailored jacket journey.

Anyway, I recently thought I’d create a muslin for Vogue 1839 I’ve had kicking around since I picked it up on the sale table at a local fabric store. I was fascinated by its lines and the fact that it was designed by the late Claire Schaeffer, whose books helped me when I was learning how to tailor a jacket.

I got my cutting table ready and started to prep the pattern. Dear god, how many pieces were there in this design? And the pattern? I don’t think I’ve seen that much tissue paper since I made my sister’s wedding gown over forty years ago!

I cannot even count the number of pattern pieces there were. Just look at them, and these are all for a single view! I spent a few minutes contemplating if I wanted to do this and realized that I didn’t have the energy. So, I went to my tiny pile of leftover fabric pieces and found one large enough to make a new “sweater.” Ah, now that feels better. I’ll tell you about the fun I’m having with this one in the next post.

P.S. If you were waiting to hear about my vacation where I wore recent makes, well, I had a great vacation but didn’t wear a single one of my own pieces! Still, it was a great time! Cheers!