Finished Project: Hudson Pants Two Ways

I love sewing up easy-to-wear separates that push people's idea about what handmade clothing looks like. Except for other homesewers, few people would expect that you made your own comfy lounge pants, like the Hudson Pants here:

Kelli of the great blog True Bias asked me to be a tester for her first pattern release, the comfy, cozy, but not-at-all schlubby Hudson Pants (named for the NYC neighborhood in which she lives — which also happens to be the first neighborhood I lived in in New York City too).

After seeing numerous versions of her new pants pattern pop up on her Instragram feed,  how could I resist?

So I ordered up two fabrics from GirlCharlee.com: a grey French terry (coming up down below) and this "nautical stripe" ponte:

I cut a straight size 12 for my first pair, made from the stripey fabric you see here. I don't love the fabric, but that was my own error; when you purchase a printed fabric online, make sure to actually check the size of said print. I had expected the stripes to be much smaller. Can you tell from this pic who I think I look like in these pants?

That's right: the Hamburglar! 

Moving on, my second pair of Hudson Pants was much more successful. I used a lovely French terry, which washed well, doesn't pill and feels as cozy as it should in this pattern. It looks like lightweight sweatshirt fabric from the outside and feels like a thousand fairy wings fluttering on your thighs on the inside:

Not only was my fabric a better choice in Version 2.0, but I also graded from a Size 12 to an 6 at the waist. I am pear-shaped and had hoped that cutting the elastic to the right length would cinch in the waistband enough that grading wouldn't be necessary. However, the leap from 6 to 12 is pretty big and my first pair were a little bunchy at the waist.

I've worn these a ton since I've made them. And machine washed them twice (after saying a little prayer). They held up beautifully. In fact, I took these photos on the Solstice, which was a month after making them:

The version of the pattern I used was the test version, and Kelli has made a few adjustments since then. The final version has some extra ease in the calf and ankle band for added comfort. The Hudson Pant pattern also includes a calf-length version.

Have you made lounge pants before? What's your fave fabric for comfy pants like these?

We go together like... Simplicity 1887 and Salme's Loose-fitting Pleated T-shirt!

Perhaps it's Me Made May that has me thinking about sewing patterns that go together. After all, as a participant (watch my Instagram feed for daily posts), I'll be wearing handmade every day for the next 31. And as a wannabe overachiever, I want to wear more than one thing whenever possible. But how many outfits can I put together with more than one handmade item from my closet? So far, not many, which is why I'm considering these combos for my May sewing plans:

The Gabriola Skirt by Sewaholic...

...with the new Nettie bodysuit by Closet Case Files (medium back and short sleeves, please):

(Seriously, what could possibly go together better than those two patterns? You would be feminine and sexy and comfortable...)

I also like Simplicity 1887, the pant version with elasticized cuffs...

...with Salme Patterns' Loose Fitting Pleated T (cropping it would be cute, non?):

I've been working on a new pattern of my own this week. It's a short-sleeved sweatshirt with perforated pleather raglan sleeves and "Sew York City" stenciled on the front (I'll be making some changes around here in the coming months, with my blog name being one of them). 

And I think it would look great with True Bias' yet-to-be-released Hudson Pant pattern (no link to buy yet; Kelli has so far only previewed her pants on Instagram):

How cute would they be together? Cool urban mom at the playground kicking balls like a boss? (Ahem, cool urban mom who sews, at the playground kicking balls like a boss!)

What are your favorite pattern combos, indie or otherwise? 

Party in the Front, Mom Jeans in the Back

I thought I hated high-waisted pants. But now, after the third draft of my self-drafted Perfect Pants pattern (made using Kenneth King's method as outlined in the Craftsy "Jeanius" class, I realize that I do like 'em high — but only in the back:

Some would say that the above my high-in-the-back-but-low-in-the-front waistline is poor patternmaking, but I love how these pants fit more than anything. I can bend over without revealing my undies (or worse), and yet my front waistband rides low enough that it doesn't cut into my stomach when I sit down. In fact, I love these pants so much I wore them twice before I managed to get photos for the blog — something I avoid out of fear I will get food on them or otherwise ruin.  

I'm not one for cropped tops, so there's really no way to tell I've got a high-low waistline going on:

The last time I made this pattern I was disappointed; the front rise was too long, and though I loved my fabric and had sewn them really well, every time I put them on I'd get frustrated and change. A baggy crotch is a major deal-breaker.

So I reduced my front rise by an inch and half — and then added it to the back rise (I've learned the hard way that if you take out of the front, you must give to the back or else the end result will be butt-crack-city). I then had to reshape the waistline through the side seam, resulting in this high-low look. The result is the best-shaped pants I've owned. In fact, I didn't even mind doing the over-the-shoulder shot in these pants:

Oh, and that top? The Tiny Pocket Tank by Grainline in a lovely cotton-silk from Metro Textile in NYC's Garment District. The print, which I think looks like an Impressionist painting, has just about every color in it. 

My pattern has some tuxedo-pant-style detailing, which I find very flattering, even in this non-tuxedo-pant-style yellow, a (non-stretch) cotton I found in Mood's denim section: 

The tuxedo-pant detailing appears also in the inseam. I think I will omit that piecing in my next iteration of this pattern:

Any other high-low lovers out there? (I've noticed that some of my RTW pants have a similar cut, so maybe I am late to the high-low party!)

Optimism — It's What's On My Sewing Table This Week

 This week in New York City, where it still feels just like January, this is what passes for optimism:

Yellow fabric for Spring pants!

 I bought this pale yellow cotton from Mood NYC a few weeks back during the LLadybird meetup. It was in the denim section, though it's a little lighter weight than that. I love this color for a pair of cropped pants, made from the pattern I drafted using Kenneth King's Jeanius Craftsy class. It will be my third pair of pants from this pattern, which I have modified since my last pair, reducing the front rise (and adding to the back, because in patternmaking if thou takest away, though must also giveth lest thou dare exposeth one's buttcrack).

Checking the fit with one leg

It's been a while since I have sewn a zipper fly, so I consulted with my Kenneth King video to make sure I got it right on my first third try.

Likewise, it has been a while since I've sewn a welt, so I consulted this tutorial once again.

I am very curvy through the hip, so I do not mess around when it comes to waistbands. Mine is a four-piece curved waistband, reinforced with petersham (that idea came from David Page Coffin's trouser book):

I'm taking a break from finishing details (oh, how I hate sewing belt loops!) to do some stretch sewing, including mommy and me raglan Tees:

What's on your sewing table? Anything optimistic? (A bathing suit perhaps?) Or are you practical and sewing a parka for April?

Me Made Meh?

I'm not participating in Me Made May though I do respect the concept (and will probably steal some style ideas from your blogs throughout the month! Muahaha!).

I have enough me-mades to get me through a month. But I reckon it would be hubris for me to assume my taste is at a level that seeing what I wear every day is in some way inspiring. After all, check out my latest pants-in-progress...they might just be the most hideous pants you have ever seen:



Barf-colored, tie-dye-print stretch denim? What was I thinking? I am too far gone now to turn back, however. So finish these I will. And, I hope, at some point these pants will cross the threshold from awful into awesome. It could happen yet. (Couldn't it?):

I was inspired by Project Runway winner Michelle, who frequently makes use of the above color palette, and has a knack for making the putrid look pretty. Michelle is my middle name (truly, it is!), so hopefully I can pull this off without making everyone sick.

I am again using the pattern I drafted using Kenneth King's Craftsy.com "Jeanius" class, which I cannot recommend enough.

Anyway, back to Me Made May: even my successes are nothing much to write home about. Last week I sewed another version of Grainline's Tiny Pocket Tank, this time with a short button placket. It turned out beautifully and I have worn it three times already. But would anybody be impressed by this simple tank?

The other big reason I can't do Me Made May: the only person who could conceivably take pics of me everyday is four years old. And she chops my head off. Every. Time.

Are you doing Me Made May? Why? And do you enjoy reading others' daily outfit posts?

Blog Milestone!

Before yesterday, the closest I ever came to fame was starring in my highschool's musical in Grade 10. The musical was "Leader of the Pack," which is about the life of Ellie Greenwich, a famed songwriter from the '60s. I played Ellie Greenwich, which was a humbling experience (not humbling in the modern-day "I'm so humbled to be nominated for an Oscar" way, but the old-school, true meaning of the word: I lost a little more of my dignity every time I opened my mouth). 

I did sign a couple autographs during that week of shows. I hope they were all requested in earnest.

Anyway,  yesterday I was actually recognized by a reader at Mood in NYC's Garment District — which was also somewhat humbling because I was buying this hideous/amazing stretch cotton which I intend to turn into pants:

The yellowish tones in this actually read chartreuse in real life

 An Australian, Liz was in New York City just for a short time, but she seemed well-versed in the Garment District having been here many times before. She said she intended to go to the Museum of Natural History, but just had to do some swatching on the way (I'm super jealous of her fabrics; Liz clearly has great taste, so I think she was being ultra-gracious when she said she liked the puke-print I was purchasing).

I also bought this ultra-lightweight navy cotton printed with dots and deer:

I've been making and adjusting a few versions of Grainline's Tiny Pocket Tank, which I thought would be a good way to eat up some remnants and expand on my dismal summer wardrobe. I hemmed and hawed over buying it: I like the cut of it (the scoop neck, darts and hemline are all perfect), but it's so simple — I know I could draft it myself, probably in an hour. But at $6.50, I figured if I saved myself that hour of work, it would be worth it. (Surely my time is worth that?).

I think I may draft a button placket and use this deer and dot print cotton to make yet another version. I did only buy a yard (it was pricey! $20/yard). My daughter informed me it's see-through (with a really judgey look on her little face!). I'll have to learn how to layer.

And now I can hear her waking up....so that's it for today, friends. What has been your closest brush with fame?

Leopard Pants Re-do: Curved Waistband Edition

The jury (me) has made its decision: curved waistbands are a necessity when you've got a booty (and you aren't wearing a waistband at your actual waist). Witness my new-and-improved leopard(ish) print pants, made using a pattern I drafted from Kenneth King's amazing Craftsy.com "Jeanius" class.  The curved waistband pattern is actually from a pair of jeans I drafted a couple years ago in my advanced patternmaking class at FIT. Rather than draft a new one, I thought I would see whether this old waistband pattern would work. And miracle of miracles, it was a perfect match! (How happy am I that my body has not apparently changed much in the years since I first drafted the pattern? Except...the waistband pattern was actually drafted for non-stretch fabric, and these pants have stretch....so maybe I have grown? Let's not dwell on that, shall we.) The pants!  

While the pants don't appear much different than the original iteration, they feel much better. I wore them out for a full day of walking last weekend on the High Line with friends visiting from Winnipeg, and I didn't have to pull them up constantly like I did with the straight waistband. See how flat it lays across my lower back?

This waistband pattern is actually in four pieces, with side seams AND a center back seam. That way you can achieve a steeper curve without running across grainlines in such a way that you end with the bias stretching around your hip curve. That was my patternmaking teacher's preferred method. It's definitely my preferred method now too. Look at how curved my new waistband was compared to the previous one:

Contoured waistband (all four pieces sewn together)

Straight waistband, curved using heat and steam

Kenneth King, meanwhile, recommends a straight waistband, curved using steam and heat from your iron. I imagine this works quite well if you are a man, or a woman with less curve in your hips, lower back and butt. In his estimation, the straight waistband is superior because it doesn't cut across the bias, which could result in stretching and distortion. I think my patternmaking teacher's four-piece pattern makes more sense when you're dealing with a curvier body because you can achieve a different shape on the front and the back; after all, your curves may not be the same on both!

I used a woven, non-stretch facing this time, and fused both the top (self) and bottom (facing) pieces with a lightweight woven fusible. I also zigzag-stitched in a length of grosgrain, using steam to curve it, for extra stability. I didn't have petersham (which is like grosgrain, but wider), which is what David Coffin recommends using for stability in his trousers book. (I could not make sense of his instructions, by the way!). But I figured the grosgrain would at least hold the upper curve in place. Here's what it looked like on the inside before I sewed it to my pants:

David Coffin also advises to only fuse within the seam lines to avoid adding bulk. As you can see above, I did that too. Here's the outside of the waistband. You can see the zigzag stitching across the top curve:

After I could tell I was going to be satisfied with this waistband, I added belt loops, the final touch:

I'm super happy now with these pants, and my pattern (thank you, Kenneth King!). I plan on making another pair right quick. 

Oh, and did you notice I also made an adjustment to my chambray "I should have listened to Phyllis" blouse, which was sewn from Pattern Runway's Pussy Bow Blouse pattern:

Those are some DEEP darts, baby.

Recall the original, which was boxy as a big box (and kind cardboard-colored too, now that I think of it)!:

I made "fish eye" darts at a depth of 1.5 inches at my waist (much more than what wise Phyllis recommended!), extending all the way up to my shoulder and down nearly to the bottom of the blouse. The fit is much more flattering now. I look like a lady again:

I'm off now, to Mood, to find some fabric for a second pair of pants! Should I go printed again, or solid? What's on trend? (I guess Pinterest could tell me, but I am avoiding for my self esteem's sake).

Finished! Peg Bundy-style Leopardish Print Pants

I'm in a bit of a snit right now, mad at myself for not trusting my instinct to make a contoured waistband. Because I went ahead and followed Kenneth King's instructions for drafting and sewing a straight waistband (using steam and heat to create a curve), but it does not look good.

Now I am going to have to unpick the waistband for a second time (the first time I applied it, it looked terrible, so I redid it once already), which I'm really worried will end up distorting the top of the pants. These are the things that keep me up at night.

I took photos this morning because I am going to wear them tonight anyway. I'm going out for dinner with some friends to celebrate my birthday (which was April Fool's Day, no joke), and that nearly never happens, so I want to dress cool. (Peg Bundy was cool, right?):

I loved them paired with my burnished gold oxfords, to play up the menswear-inspired tuxedo pant details (which are kind of hard to see, but I know they're there and I love them). And in reality, the waistband doesn't matter all that much. I don't wear cropped shirts. No one will see it. Here's a reluctant back view:

Here's the leather trimmed pocket detail:

I know you care to know more about the waistband debacle, so here's a pic of the straight waistband, after I curved it using heat and steam (from my iron, obvs. I'm not a dragon):

Pretty curved, right? I think for many women, this would totally work fine. But I have a round butt, and the waistband sits pretty low on these pants, so I definitely need a more curved waistband. In the spirit of full disclosure (because this is a teachable moment), here's my back view so you can see the problem. It gapes a little all along the length of the back waistband, and does a weird little pucker thing right at centerback. That could be due to distortion caused by picking it out once already. I'll probably have to take a little extra out at center back now. Sigh:

But, like I said, I am wearing them tonight anyway. And I will fix them eventually. I just may need a stiff drink to do it without falling into a funk. Also, I think I may turn to David Coffin's trouser book for advice on how to face a curved waistband, and use petersham to give it more stability. I would like to wear these with my head help high eventually. For now, the botched waistband can be our little secret: