Copying RTW Clothing Using Silk Organza

As I mentioned in my last post, I took two classes this summer at Canada College, one of which was Copying RTW with Lynda Maynard. I wasn't really sure what to expect from this class, especially since I've already copied a couple of my favorite RTW items both by taking them apart, and by using the pin-stabbing method (pretty sure that's not the official name, but that's what I call it). But then, I thought I already had a good idea of what I was doing when I went into Lynda's bustier construction class (because you know, I'd already made up that pattern once), and yet I still learned tons. By now I know that Lynda is full of useful tips and of course she has years of experience, so I went ahead and signed up for the class anyway.

Lynda's method is very different from the more slapdash pin-stabbing method, and just as precise as the deconstructing-a-garment method, except that it doesn't require taking the garment apart! I'll do my best to give a brief overview of the process. She recommended that we start with a striped or plaid woven garment, just to make the process more straightforward. To be honest, there aren't that many RTW woven garments I wear anymore aside from jeans (partly because my shape is constantly changing, and stretchy garments are so much more comfortable, and partly because most of my woven garments even from pre-pregnancy are me-made!), so I decided to try rubbing off one of Mr. Cation's casual button-down shirts. It's originally from G by Guess, and was quite pricey, but it's got some interesting style lines. Most importantly, though, it's plaid, so the grain lines are very easy to follow!

Here's what the original shirt looks like on Mr. Cation. 

Least favorite part: the huge honking piece of embroidery on the back. 

It's important to be able to see the grain lines because the first thing we did was use brightly colored thread to trace the grain lines (and seam lines, if they are hard to see) on each individual piece of the garment. Lynda recommended that for large pattern pieces, (e.g. the center back piece), we put in multiple grain lines for reference points.

I almost didn't need to put in my thread tracing because the plaid makes it so easy to see!

Here's the interesting little front piece that makes this shirt so unique, all thread traced.

After the grain lines are all marked, we measured the distances between them and penciled in the same lines on silk organza pieces that were cut to be about the same size (but slightly bigger) than the individual pattern pieces. It's important to use silk organza because 1) it's see-through, 2) it's flexible but still fairly stable. (One could technically use poly or nylon organza, but those tend to be shiny and harder to work with.) We then pinned the marked-up pieces of silk organza to the garment by matching the grainline thread-markings to the pencil markings. From there, it's just a matter of smoothing the organza over the rest of the pattern piece and pinning the heck out of it.

I'm pinning the silk organza to the bias-cut outer yoke piece here.

In this way, you are mirroring the pattern piece shape with the flexible organza (this is why it's better than trying to spread out the garment on paper and pin it), which theoretically makes it easier to rub off complex garments with weird, curved pieces. Once the organza is pinned to the pattern piece, you use pencil to mark the seam lines and any other places of note, e.g. where pattern pieces join or pleats and darts. When you unpin the organza, the shape of the pattern piece should be all sketched out!

Here's how the front piece and collar pieces turned out when traced onto the silk organza. The solid lines are my grain lines to match the thread tracing, and the dashed lines are my rub off of the seam lines. 

The sleeve, with markings showing where the button tab, sleeve placket, and pleat went. After unpinning the silk organza, we had to go back and measure all the seam line lengths to make sure that we rubbed it off correctly. Then we had to measure all the seams that went together to make sure that they matched. All this work paid off, though, since by the time it came to actually sewing, we were assured of an accurate pattern where all the pieces fit together perfectly!

Mr. Cation's shirt was pretty straightforward to rub off; some people in our class had bias-cut cowl necks, crazy gathered sleeves, lace insertion, and other design elements on their garments. It'll be interesting to apply this method to a more "difficult" piece to see how it works! In the meantime, I transferred the markings on my silk organza pieces to paper, then sewed up a muslin.

And here's what it looks like all laid out. Look at those nice sleeve plackets! It's the first time I've ever done a real tower placket, thanks to the helpful Threads tutorial and pattern. I did manage to sew my first one on inside out, though...

According the Mr. Cation, the fit feels the same (as it should!), although there was a moment of alarm when I presented the muslin to him and he was like, "This isn't going to be the real shirt material, right?!"

Front.

And back.

The whole process was definitely more time-consuming than a pin-stabbing rub off, but the results are incredibly accurate. Lynda's only caveat was that if one is doing a rub-off with stretchy fabric, one has to be very careful not to distort the fabric in any way, and then of course there's the challenge of finding a fashion fabric with the same amount of stretch and drape. Generally, though, I'm pretty excited about this method. There are a lot more details that she went over in class, like how to transfer the darts and such, but apparently you can find all of the same information in Kenneth King's CD book (I'm not being paid to link to him, just passing on the information in case anyone is interested!).  

I'm not sure when I'll get around to actually making this shirt in real fabric, what with school starting in a month and SHB coming the month after that...also, Mr. Cation is incredibly picky about what he wears, so finding an appropriate plaid will be a challenge! Where do all of you ladies who sew for your significant others find good shirting material? 

This Is Why I Learned How to Sew!

When I was a fresh-faced new teacher of 21, I was totally clueless about what teachers wore. I bought something like ten button-up shirts from Express because it was the only store that fit my wide shoulder/tiny waist combination, only to realize that 1) I never wore button-up shirts because I find them uncomfortable, and 2) there's no point in buying expensive teacher clothes because I will destroy them. Chalk dust, dry erase marker dust, chemicals, and general dirt can ruin a wardrobe pretty quickly, especially when you're as clumsy as I am. Eventually, I learned my lesson and turned to Ross for my teacher clothes. One of the first TNT pieces of clothing I bought there was a pair of brown, tweed-like, 100% polyester gauchos. I'm not proud of wearing these to death, but, well, I did, despite the questionable merit of artificial fibers that pilled like mad and the even more questionable ripply hem. Oh, and the ultimate questionability of a garment that makes one's legs look shorter and wider.

Ugh, look at that hem! When I first brought it home, I tried in vain to iron out the ripples. I know better now. 

Broken invisible zipper. One of the reasons why I
don't do invisible zipper anymore. 

Still, I loved those gauchos because they were comfortably loose while looking (relatively) put together. When its invisible zipper gave up the ghost after a year of nearly weekly wear, I seriously felt like grieving. What was I going to wear now?! I even went so far as to wear them with the broken zipper, and force the thing to zip past the broken area, which meant that I had to carefully ration my water intake so as to avoid having to unzip any more than absolutely necessary. Is that TMI? At any rate, it finally got to be so bad that I reluctantly retired these pants. Remarkably, I held onto them through five moves through three different cities, waiting, it seems, for the day when my sewing skills would enable me to reproduce them. Well, I was going through my old clothes the other day, trying to figure out what I could donate before our big move this summer, and I found these pants again. I realized that they were just three pattern pieces -- a yoke, front, and back -- and would thus be easy to make a rub-off of. Hello, second real pair of me-made pants!

Don't these pictures look like inspirational teaching photos or something? 

The lighting, the city background, it's like I'm advertising that you, too, can change the lives of children.

There's some slight drag line stuff going on in the back, but not enough to bother me. I am slightly bothered, though, by how they end at the largest part of my calf. Bothered enough to undo my hem and fix it, though? Nah, not that bothered. 

I knocked these out in an evening and a morning, and while they were definitely easy to pattern and easy to sew, they're also difficult to fit. Since I've gained some weight in the intervening years, the original pants weren't quite a perfect anymore, so I had to guess at modifications to my pattern pieces. Then, the fabric I chose for this (hopefully) wearable muslin was much stiffer than the original, so it didn't drape quite the same way or look quite so slimming; I ended up reducing the hem circumference by a few inches and it still feels a little too wide. I also ended up making my yoke much higher to accommodate the change in how I like to wear my pants now. I can't believe that I used to wear such incredibly low-cut pants! Especially since my torso is really long, I must have looked unnecessarily disproportionate.

I lined up the yoke seams here, so you can see how my new pair is a good two inches higher at the center front. Also about an inch bigger at the hips, but that's neither here nor there. 

I didn't have enough fabric left over for a facing, so I cut my yoke facings out of this linen blend fabric that I had leftover from the second "real" dress I ever sewed. It's a bit hard to tell in this light, but that's both cream-colored and pink seam binding that I used. 

My very invisible, non-ripply hem! Not that it's any real triumph, those, since this tweed is perfect for camouflaging even the clumsiest hand-stitches. Oh, and that's the third color of seam binding there: navy blue!

A better look at how the top of the pants fits on me. 

Lapped zipped on the left side...nearly invisible, thanks to the textured fabric.
Mr. Cation actually couldn't figure out where I had hidden the closure when
he was taking these pictures! 

Summary:
Fabric: A yard or so remnant of 54" wide, grey tweed-y looking mystery fabric from Happy Fabric in Oakland, part of my official stashbusting stash. I did a burn test and there's some kind of natural fiber in it, but it's not wool. Upon consulting the fiber burn chart, it seems to best match the result for hemp, and while the fabric certainly feels scratchy enough, I don't know that my results are really conclusive. Ideally, this style would have used a fabric with less body, but since it's a wearable muslin it's tolerable.
Notions: An eight inch black zipper, a hook and eye, three different colors of seam binding
Techniques used: A lapped zipper (I'd forgotten how to do one and messed up the first time; I had to refer back to my Reader's Digest book), rubbing off a pattern, a catch-stitched hem
Hours: Seven, but at least an hour of it was hand-sewing and another hour for the patterning
Will you make it again? I want to use this pattern as a base for making a pair of very wide-legged trousers, but I'm dubious about whether I can actually pull off that look.
Total cost: $4...the trade-off for mystery remnants is cheapness.
Final thoughts: I'm not sold on 21-year-old me's idea of a good look for work, as the internet seems pretty convinced that wearing gauchos = instant stumpiness, but these pants are certainly comfortable enough, if not terribly flattering. They go well with the numerous cardigans in my closet, and work equally well with heels and tall boots. I think. Like I said, not sold on the idea of gauchos. However, I am terribly pleased that I finally managed to carry out my plan of remaking and replacing this particular RTW garment! So often, I stash random things and save them for years, telling myself that one day I'll actually need/use this. Well, this time it was true! I won't go so far as to say that I learned how to sew in order to carry out this project, but it was always vaguely in the back of my mind. Even though I'm not sure about the advisability of wearing this style, I feel like I've reached some kind of milestone in being able to successfully reproduce the original garment. Hmmm, I think I still have my favorite pair of cargo pants from college (which developed an unfortunately situated hole) stashed somewhere...

One more random anecdote about my early teaching years and the original pair of gauchos: I was wearing them one time and another science teacher said something to the effect of gauchos never look good on anyone. At the time, I didn't know that this type of pants even had a specific name, so I went ahead and agreed with her that yes, they looked terrible. I was such a people-pleaser back then. She gave me a withering look that said well then why are you wearing them? It wasn't until I availed myself of Google that I realized what she was saying, and what I had agreed to.

But enough about naive young me and that first pair -- what about this pair? To take a page from Peter's book, gauchos, yay or nay?

Finally Finished: Toggle Jacket!

That's the smug smile of a real sewasaurus. 

I've always felt that one couldn't be a real sewasaurus, much like the Velveteen Rabbit, until one produced a credible piece of outerwear, preferably of wool. I know, I know, that's just an arbitrary standard that my brain came up with, and I know plenty of other sewing bloggers who've never made coats that I consider to be real. My brain just works in weird ways. Anyway, in my quest to sew a wardrobe appropriate for San Francisco weather, I decided that it was finally time to tackle an honest-to-goodness jacket/coat. (What is the difference, anyway? Is it length? thickness? material? personal label preference?)

ZOMG I love that the sleeves are actually long enough!

Although I've got a lovely piece of red wool coating laid away, I'm too much of a chicken to dare working with it just yet. I decided to make a more casual, more machine washable, wearable technique-muslin* of sorts out of navy blue anti-pill fleece instead. At $5/yd on sale at Jo-Ann's (plus my teacher discount of 15%!), it's definitely cheap enough that I feel free to make mistakes, while still (somewhat) getting the experience of working with such thick material and the types of techniques that requires.

Side view.

Back view.

This project actually works nicely for R&RtRTW, too. I used to have a charcoal gray fleece jacket that I bought for cheap at one of those little Forever21-level-of-quality stores at the Tanforan Mall several years ago. It was light since it was fleece, and warm enough, considering that it was unlined and cheap. I wore it everywhere and wasn't afraid of getting it dirty since it was just fleece and could be thrown into the washing machine. It pilled like crazy after a while, though, and I sadly retired it after the beating it took in a two-week Hong Kong trip. I've missed it in the intervening years, as my wool peacoats sometimes look too formal (or are too heavy) for just going out to run errands. So this fleece jacket steps into the gap between expensive long wool coat and waterproof ski jacket.

I made View C, but even shorter.

I chose Butterick 6775 for my pattern; I picked it up a year ago at a thrift store in a big bundle of patterns, but never thought I'd actually use it. The insets just looked kind of weird, and the "semi-fitted" description scared me since I thought everything should be extremely fitted back then (now that I'm an older and wiser seamstress, I realize that outerwear shouldn't be fitted within an inch of its life, because otherwise how will it fit over your actual clothes?). When I took the pattern pieces out, I realized that the sleeve and collar were both missing; thankfully, the previous owner of the pattern had thoughtfully replaced the one-piece sleeve pattern with a two-piece sleeve from another pattern, and the collar was pretty easy to make up.

Since I only purchased two yards of fleece, I was barely able to fit in all my pattern pieces, and even then I had to make the collar shorter than I wanted. Frustratingly, I ended up cutting about five inches off of the bottom of the coat because it looked awkward at the original length, which meant I could have made a taller collar if I'd, you know, planned ahead and tried holding the pattern pieces up to my body. Rookie mistake, I know.

You can really see the sleeve head dimpling here. 

Initially, I was afraid that the jacket would be too small, since it's meant for a 32.5" bust, but I needn't have worried. That whole semi-fitted description was serious; I ended up doing an SBA on the front inset (which incidentally is a very clever design feature -- it provides shaping like a modified princess seam, but doesn't look like one at all) and shaping the side seams more by taking it in at my waist and gradually tapering to almost a 1/4" seam allowance to accommodate my hips (hello pear shape!). The two-piece sleeve was quite easy to set in once I took out the excessive sleeve cap ease and took in the underarm seam by over an inch! I mean, I know my arms are spindly, but these sleeves were really quite ginormous. I'm pretty pleased with how they look now, although there's still some dimpling at the top. Maybe I need to go back and put in an actual sleeve head.

Figuring out the toggle placement was actually one of the most frustrating parts of sewing this. I kept sewing them on misaligned or crooked, and let me just tell you that ripping seams out of fleece is so. freaking. difficult. The seam ripping frustration might also have been compounded by the fact that *ahem* I didn't baste the toggles first and just went straight for sewing them in "permanently" every time, hoping against hope that the placement would be miraculously correct. I promise, one day I will learn.

Finally more or less lined up!

The pockets were also an ordeal, trying to get them the same size and fit them onto the little space I had on the sides of my coat. I opted to make them without the flap, and with an angled hand entry like kangaroo pockets. One of my biggest pet peeves with the RTW toggle coat I already own (but wool, and much heavier than this one, so not redundant in my wardrobe) is that trying to stick your hands into pockets vertically is really awkward and uncomfortable, so this was my attempt to remedy that bad design.

In hindsight, I probably should've added stay tape to the opening to keep it from getting stretched out. 

I lined the coat in this fuzzy plaid flannel; I actually cut it from a cheap RTW poncho that was gifted to me. I felt slightly bad cutting it up, since it was a gift, but I'm telling myself that I would never have worn it in its original form, and at least this way it's going to good use. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough yardage to line the sleeves, so I just finished the armscyes with seam binding and tacked it to the seam allowance at the shoulder and armpit. This makes the insides of the sleeves look really ugly, but hey, nobody's going to see it, right? I might go back and add sleeves at some point if I find a similar-looking flannel, but for now, it's fine.

Looks normal enough when the jacket flops open...

...but when the jacket's flipped inside out, you see what a lie it all is -- there's no sleeve lining! Oh, and that flannel was so loosely woven and unstable that I couldn't get the plaid to line up at the center back seam. Oh well. 

Closer look at the inside...I love how the the other side of the cording stitching looks on the facing, and the way the lining looks with the dark blue makes me so happy!

I'm thinking of adding some kind of closure to the bottom half,
like a large snap or a hook and eye, since it tends to flip open.
I'm not sure what exactly to put there, though, since I still want
to be able to wear the jacket open and a large snap might be
kind of distracting. Thoughts? 

Summary:
Fabric: 2 yards anti-pill fleece, one Korean poncho's worth of 80/20 wool-poly blend (it looked just like this, but in black and white)
Notions: 2.5 yards of cotton cord, 4 wooden toggle buttons, seam binding
Techniques: grading seams, topstitching, setting in sleeves
Hours used: Erg. A lot. I made it through a whole season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer working on this thing, and that's not even counting all the times I put it on pause to sew particularly tricky bits.
Will you make it again? I love the toggle look, and am totally intrigued by this inset feature, but I think more than one coat with this design is unnecessary. Also, as mentioned, I already have a RTW toggle coat. The two-piece sleeve, though -- I am totally using that on future coats now that I've adapted the pattern for my arms!
Total cost: $17. This is probably the ultra-discounted sale price of a similarly shapeless polyester coat at Forever21 or one of those generic Korean import women's fashion boutiques that are ubiquitous in SoCal, but I made this one so it's got extra value to it! Also, it kind of bothered me that the toggles and cording were more expensive than the actual fabric.
Final thoughts: Maybe it's one of those biased mom thoughts, you know, my-child-is-gorgeous-and-perfect-because-he's-mine sort of things, but I really really really like this coat. I am so thrilled with myself for making real functional outerwear -- it's actually quite warm (at least for California...it wouldn't begin to pass muster in a Canadian winter!) and navy blue goes with almost everything, it's casual but not sloppy, it has that vaguely military look I love because of the cording, and I get the satisfaction of saying I made it! I'll wager that it's better made than any other similarly priced fleece coat with no interfacing that you can get at the mall, and oh gosh I just can't get over that I made real outerwear! I'm totally psyched about making my red wool coat now, even though I know it will probably be next winter by the time I get around to it. And can I also congratulate myself for persevering through the 80+ degree days and trying this coat on countless times and sweating because of all the poly and wool, because now I am totally prepared for the fact that winter is coming. Seriously, I think this is the first time I've actually done season-appropriate sewing ahead of time!

Apparently winter is coming from behind me. 

*Although this isn't the pattern I intend to use for my red wool coat, it does give me practice with the techniques that I may need to use, so it's a technique muslin, get it?

R&RtRTW: Travel to Work Dress

It's been a while since I did something about my Remaking and Replacing the RTW project, mostly because I took a knit-busting detour. This dress is a polyester knit that I've had for several years, just waiting for the perfect project pairing, so technically it still counts as knit-busting!

Comparison: RTW on the left, me-made on the right.

One of my favorite teacher dresses is this black-and-white geometric patterned dress that I got at Ross my very first year of teaching. It's fitted and flattering, the flowy skirt is long enough to cover my knees, the cap sleeves are tiny enough that I can fit a cardigan over it for cold days, and I pull it out every time I feel like I need to look my best (parent-teacher conferences and back to school nights and open houses!). Now that I'm traveling for work, I've come to appreciate this dress even more; since it's polyester, it doesn't wrinkle and I can still look professional and put together even after napping on a flight, or stuffing it into my luggage. Normally I frown on artificial fibers, but in this case they're a blessing.

These pictures were taken post-travel. The dress had been slept in, traveled in, and stuffed into a suitcase. 

To make my copy of the dress, I knew I wanted a similarly hardy material, so this polyester knit was perfect. My only gripes with it are that 1) the splashes of light blue make it ever so slightly less practical for pairing with everything in my wardrobe (but it does make the dress slightly more fun!), and 2) there's a lot more white space, so you can see the print coming through on the top layers. But both of those issues are extremely minor; I still love my final dress and think it does a pretty good job of being everything I love about the original RTW dress. My pattern was just traced from the original dress, too, so I was pretty sure I would love it. Because I had limited fabric, I had to make the cap sleeves part of the bodice instead of cutting out separate pieces. Even then, squeezing the giant wrap skirt pieces out of my 2.5 yards was a challenge in spatial reasoning! I also left out the collar of the original dress, as that's actually the only part of it I don't like.

Here's a brief fake-torial for what I did:

This is slightly simplified -- I added bust darts to my pattern, but they're totally not necessary. If you already have a  TNT fitted t-shirt pattern, you can just use that for the bodice pieces. Just draw a diagonal line from the shoulder seam to the waist to make the front pieces. For the skirt pieces, you can just sketch an arc of the appropriate length and then draw the sides to get a curved trapezoid-type piece. The more curvy your arc and the more slanted your trapezoid sides, the fuller the skirt will be. For the waist seam, since my machine doesn't do a triple-stitch zig-zag, I was afraid of the fabric tunneling, so I added a piece of elastic to stabilize the seam a bit. 

Here's a closer look at the insides: my tacked together bodice with the faux-binding, and the waist seam reinforced with elastic to keep it from getting stretched out too much. 

Summary:
Fabric: 2.5 yards of polyester stretch knit with large modern floral in black/light blue on a white background (from my first big fabric haul at SAS Fabrics in Tucson!)
Notions: less than a yard of 1/4" elastic
Techniques: Tracing a RTW piece of clothing to make a pattern
Hours used: Figuring out the pattern and arranging the cutting layout on my piece of fabric took a good two hours, but actually sewing up the dress only took another two. Pretty good for an evening's worth of work!
Will you make this again? I want to try it again but with the wrap giving more coverage in the bust area. Also maybe remaking it as an actual wrap dress, and not just a faux-wrap. It's definitely a classy work-horse type dress, though, so I foresee similar-looking iterations in the future!
Total cost: I bought this fabric so long ago, I don't even know...but knowing SAS's prices, I'm guessing it couldn't have been more than about $5. The original dress was $19.99 at Ross, but even that was discounted from the department store price of $39.99.
Final thoughts: I'd say this is pretty darn successful! The dress is pretty much everything I wanted/needed it to be, and it passed the wearing-IRL test. Even though the original RTW dress isn't anywhere near ready to be retired, it's nice to have a me-made twin to add to the rotation.

Serious twirling face + the dangers of wrap dresses. Good thing I made the wrap panels so wide!

R&RtRTW: Channeling My Inner Greek Princess

Yes, that's a very attractive compost bin in the background.

I think those flutter sleeves are just perfect. Love them!

Why a Greek princess, you ask? Well, it's because this is the Ariadne tunic, a free pattern from the one and only Tanit-Isis! She graciously provided this pattern for her second blogiversary earlier this year, and I've had it bookmarked ever since. After my post-vacation reentry into sewing resulted in a drastic capri pants fail (I have yet to bring myself to take any pictures), I needed something quick(ish) that would most likely turn out well, to help me recover my sewing mojo. I think this did the trick!

This is also part of my Remaking and Replacing the RTW project list. I had a favorite dark gray tee from Ross that looked pretty similar to this -- gathered at the front, cut-out back, slightly fluttery sleeves, and gathered to a band at the bottom -- that I unfortunately ruined with a large oil stain. It was right over my belly button, too; that's not a location that could really benefit from a camouflaging lace doily applique. I held onto that tee through two moves, hoping that one day I could replicate it. Although this top is black, it's got essentially the same function in my wardrobe: it's a top in a basic color that's slightly dressier/more put together than my screenprinted science tees, but still casual enough to go with jeans, but wouldn't be entirely out of place with work trousers, and the flutter sleeves and back cutout keeps it from being too boring. In other words, pretty much perfect.

Yergs...look at the horrid binding job, all ripply and weird.
Good thing my hair or a cardigan will hide it most of the time!
And you can tell that it's both very windy in SF and that my
fabric is indeed tissue thin.

I cut out the size small, and after some headaches with trying to figure out the right side of a black jersey knit fabric in dim lighting, managed to put it together without too much trouble. The only part I had issues with is the binding of the back cutout, but that's really my own fault because I didn't cut my binding strip on the cross-grain, as the instructions advised. It's ripply and weird, but I don't have to look at it, so I think I'll survive. In the future (because there will definitely be a future), I'll be careful to follow Tanit-Isis' cutting instructions! I would also probably shorten it by about an inch (I have a long torso, but even so this top feels really long to me -- probably because I was looking more for a tee, not a tunic) and grade down to an XS in the hips, since I don't like having quite so much fabric gathered into the band. But those are really minor changes (and not the pattern's fault, just my own preference), and in fact I'll probably do just that when I get back home. Because yes, I am finally going back to real summer after a whole "summer" of fog! The Cation family will be making the drive back down to TCOCC -- spare a friendly thought for Walnut if you think of us tomorrow!

Walnut is depressed, just thinking about the long car ride. Kinda like Henri.

My husband decided to get artsy and try to do the sun flare thing.
Okay, okay, I made him do it. Not bad, though, right?

Summary: 
Fabric: 1 yard of very drapey, tissue-thin, 4-way stretch jersey knit with a healthy lycra content
Notions: None. I didn't bother with the button at the top of the keyhole, nor did I stabilize my shoulder seams as the instructions recommended (oops).
Techniques: This knit binding method is brilliant. I will never go back.
Hours: A few? It would've been faster, except that my machine really wanted a walking foot for this project. I had to go really slowly to get the binding to not look wonkier than it already does.
Will you make this again? Yes, definitely, for all the reasons cited above about its versatility. I also want to try it with a slightly stabler knit, but with less gathers at the front, and extend it into a dress (without the band at the bottom, obviously).
Total cost: $2.50 for the fabric, from the time I met Aleah. 
Final thoughts: With a few minor tweaks, I can see this becoming my go-to top pattern. I'm a sucker for flutter sleeves! Thanks for putting out this pattern, Tanit-Isis!

That's two tops done for R&RtRTW; I've still got a cardigan and several pairs of pants I want to tackle. Since my last pants fail, though, I think I'll go for the cardigan first. Time to start looking out for sweater knits! Oh wait, it's supposed to be ridiculously hot down in SoCal now. Hmmm, I might be able to talk myself into a sundress or two...

Free Sewing Pattern: Dolman Sleeve Top

 

The line drawing, if you can even call it that, it's so sketchy.

Here it is, as promised: my dolman-sleeved knit top! As I mentioned before, this is part of my Remaking and Replacing the RTW series; I'm slowly going through my ready-to-wear wardrobe and trying to replace some of the most well-loved (read: falling apart, pilling, and stretched out beyond recognition) pieces with me-made versions. This top was meant to improve on a cheap orange top that I bought a couple years ago from a random Asian boutique (like Forever 21, except that I'm a size large since all the clothes are meant for tiny petite Asian girls) near my house in San Francisco.
My pattern for this top was easy to draw up; I just needed to take a few measurements and figure out how much longer I wanted the sleeves and torso. Sewing it up is easy too -- if the knit is behaving I can be done, from cutting to final wearable garment, in about 1.5 hours.

Since drawing up the pattern, I've already made three incarnations of this top, and I wear them constantly! This style is so versatile, just a little girly while still providing the range of motion and comfort and layerability that I need here in the city. I like that it's blousy enough to accommodate a cami underneath, but fitted enough that it's not too bulky under a coat. And I've made it in three different types of material, just so I can be sure it works for sweatshirt material, tissue-like knits with very little stretch/recovery, and extra-stretchy, stable knit with some spandex content. Final verdict: it works for all of them!

Aqua version in some mystery blend sweatshirt material from a discount fabric store in Oakland Chinatown, $2. Warm and vaguely sporty, but less sloppy/boring/I've-given-up-looking than a real sweatshirt.

One of those ultra-flimsy, thin cotton knits with relatively little stretch/recovery, in a cute purple/fuschia floral. Check out how real the neckband finishing looks! The dolman sleeve isn't very obvious when my arm is down, but it provides for some lovely air circulation when it's warm outside, as it was when I took these pictures in the East Bay.

Probably my favorite version, and also my last version, in a very busy blue/tan floral print knit with some spandex content, as it is very stretchy (but also very stable). From up close, the flowers look a lot like the meeples from Carcassonne.

Once I drew up my pattern and realized how easy it is, I decided I should try my hand at grading my pattern for different sizes. Thankfully, Casey of Elegant Musings just did a series on pattern grading. I looked up the size charts of several RTW companies just to get an idea of their measurements for XS-XL, then cut and expanded and redrew my pattern piece. Yes, that's right, pattern piece, singular. I hate it when printable patterns take dozens and dozens of pages to print, not to mention taping all the pages together...so I made mine fit on just eight pages, although you'll still need to follow the directions for cutting rectangles to finish the neckline, sleeves, and hem. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I should let you all know that I've only tested the small size; sew any of the other sizes at your own risk! I mean, I'm pretty sure they should work, with maybe some small adjustments for your particular body type, but hey, it's a free pattern, what do you expect? ;) Anyway, if you sew this up, please drop me an email or comment to let me know! I'd love to see how this works out for you, and if there are any issues that I can fix.

[ETA: As it turns out, apparently my arms are ultra-spindly, as several people have said that the arm bands needed to be widened significantly. Okay, point taken, I need to work out more before I draft more patterns based on my own measurements! ;) Also, apparently the neckline can be a little wide -- even a tiny bit of stretching out might make it unwearable. I always knew I had wide shoulders (it's one of the things I can reliably count on my grandmother to comment on), and the pattern is meant to just barely cover my bra straps, so it's totally understandable that this might be too much for some/most people. So take note, it might be a good idea to cut the neckline smaller and then enlarge it later if necessary. If you've had the misfortune of already cutting it too wide, might I suggest a center pleat to bring it in?]

Instructions (with a color picture tutorial, no less!)

Pattern (hand-drawn, since I don't know how to do this on computer, in XS-XL)

If you saw the colorblocking of the inspiration top, you'll obviously realize that I didn't bother with that in my remakes. I didn't have any solid-colored knits to work with, but if you want to try it, just cut the pattern piece into three separate parts, as shown below, and just add seam allowances before you cut and sew your fashion fabric.

On my inspiration top, the sleeve and hem bands, neckband, and upper right quadrant were all orange,
and the other sleeve was white and the bottom left section was gray.

I'm not going to write up my usual summary, since I've already listed the fabrics and time and skills required either in the picture captions above or in the instructions. And my final thoughts are that this pattern is quickly becoming my favorite, and that several people who are not my husband have already commented on the cuteness of this top, which I think is a positive sign. I think this is a good start to R&RtRTW, unwieldy abbreviation notwithstanding!

Showing my excitement with a jumping picture, inspired by all of Leah's.