The G. G. Files – Life, style, creativity and more…

There’s an old Zen proverb that I love. “You should sit in meditation for 20 minutes a day unless you’re too busy, then you should sit for an hour.” I’m one of those people who’s spent so much of her life doing, doing, doing. My husband, who has mastered the art of sitting still after forty-five years of a hectic medical practice, calls me a “Human doing” (of course, as opposed to a “human being”). But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that sewing is that space where, despite the fact that I seem to be “doing,” I can also “be.” Sewing is my meditation.

When last we met, I wrestled with my desire to make a muslin for a very complicated design. In the end, I didn’t have the time or, frankly, the inclination to pursue it. So, I picked up a piece of leftover fabric that I had bought too much of last year and rifled through my patterns.

The piece was black. So what else is new? *rolls eyes* Of course, it was black. Most of my leftover pieces are grey or black, so sue me. And just consider the possibilities when the fabric is black, and you just want to have fun.

The fabric reads like a ponte with a brushed back so I was looking for a cozy “sweater” type pattern. I have one Jalie pattern, “Charlotte,” that I’ve used for three favourite cropped jackets.

Since I didn’t need another cropped jacket, and I wanted to have some fun, I decided to make the longer version of it and experiment with some machine embroidery. And I thought I’d do it in red.

I never use the embroidery function on my machine (or almost never), mainly because I’m not an embroidery kind of person. I don’t wear embroidery as a rule. But, in the spirit of having fun, I thought I’d go for it. I experimented with a couple of feathery things but ultimately chose a triple sort of zigzag.

Then I had to decide how much of it I’d use because, well, you know, you can have too much of a good thing. I decided to trim the pockets and the sleeves and see if it could cope (or I could cope) with more. Since I decided to order fancy, hand-made buttons from Buttons d’anjou on Etsy, once they arrived, I realized that would be quite enough embroidery.

Then, I just meditated my way through a fun project. And voila! I have a new sweater (jacket?).

Moving on to spring now … if it ever comes!

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!

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!