Doing

Rituals
As a New Orleans resident, I didn’t get a sense of autumn until mid-October, so I was more than ready when chilly mornings became a regular occurrence. The weather change has me feeling energized, which is a welcome shift from a busy end-of-summer season marked by travel, extra job responsibilities, and a spate of sewing projects. Now that it feels like fall, long and leisurely walks have resumed. I especially enjoy traversing the French Quarter with my partner during its less populated hours, coffee in hand. I’ve been paying more attention to the architecture and noting any photoshoot-friendly facades.

I find daily routines grounding, especially ones that involve self care and reflection. In March of this year I began a practice of waking up earlier to make time for meditation and journaling before work. Often I’d write at an outside table of a nearby cafe. This practice gradually fell away during the summer, but I’m slowly bringing it back.

If you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen some produce-themed stories about our farm stand hauls. These wrapped in June as dictated by the regional farming season and I spent the summer eagerly awaiting the next harvest. The fall/winter season finally kicked off last week and we committed to a CSA (community supported agriculture) subscription. The first week was filled with greens, and they’ve been incorporated into many salads and soups. I added the mustard greens to a particularly satisfying lentil soup that I forgot to photograph.

Toronto
I travelled to Toronto to visit my friend Lydia, a talented composer and songwriter whose work you should definitely check out. It was a quick weekend trip with lots of walking and sightseeing. A highlight was Immortal, a beautiful and affecting Richard Avedon exhibition at The Image Centre. The black and white portraits of aging public figures was up close, high definition, and larger than life. It somehow felt epic and intimate.

Music
I attended two shows this month. Cashier, a nu-gaze band from my hometown, played at the Marigny Opera House, a lovely 19th century building with the moniker “church of the arts.” I also saw Boy Harsher for the second time at a sold-out show. I was so tempted to skip because it was on a Monday night, but I pushed through the post-work fatigue and don’t regret it.

Reading and Watching

The Four Agreements
This book recently caught my eye at a sidewalk sale and I bought it. I’ve had the digital version for ages, but I think it wanted to be read in paper format. The “agreements” at face value aren’t new concepts to me, but the way they’re presented within the context of the author’s cultural tradition imparts a reverent simplicity. I dogeared at least twenty pages of wisdom.

Upstairs Downstairs
It’s no secret that I prefer older movies and television. Growing up, my viewing options were generally limited to the VHS selection of the local public library — think Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals, Faerie Tale Theatre, and period dramas — which undoubtedly influenced my taste.

And while I occasionally watch contemporary films and shows, I usually gravitate toward pre-Y2K stuff — especially of late. I’m currently rewatching Upstairs Downstairs (1971-1975) after many years. It can easily be described as the original Downton Abbey. There are some great moments of verbal jousting that leave me feeling like I’ve been to a really good play.

Handmade Wardrobe

Closet Core Jenna
I recently collaborated with Style Maker Fabrics for their fall fabric launch. My project was the Closet Core Jenna Shirt for which I chose a plaid linen blend shirting. It took so much extra time to pattern match the plaid, but it was worth it. It’s a special piece that I’m mostly wearing as an over shirt due to its substantial weight and texture.

Knit basics
Knit tops and underwear are among the ready-to-wear holdouts of my closet and they are giving way all at once. With a sizable stash of knit fabrics on hand, I am dedicated to making their replacements myself. I recently cut out seven projects and plan to steadily sew them over the next 2-3 weeks. After that, regular programming (pants!) will commence.

Outfits
This is a roundup of some outfit selfies taken over the past couple months. Most all of it is handmade. I try to remember to take these these casual photos to show how I style handmade garments in my day-to-day.

There are nine great pants patterns in these photos (all details shared here), but I’ve especially been into the Protea Pants lately. They’re kind of all I want to wear right now so I’m adding another pair or two to the top of my queue.

Ok, signing off for now. I hope you had a happy Halloween and Samhain. Thank you for being here.

-Theresa

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Walking foot
Most domestic machines only have bottom feed dogs (the little teeth that push the fabric through as you sew). While this is sufficient for most projects, some fabrics and techniques benefit from a top set to ensure the fabric layers don’t become misaligned. A walking foot provides a top set of feed dogs that synchs with your machine. I don’t use mine often, but there are certain projects, like this shirt with extensive pattern matching, that greatly benefit from its functionality. I purchased this one for my trusty Janome.

Wearable pin cushion
Before acquiring a wearable pin cushion, I was constantly picking up pins from the desk, ironing board, and floor because my magnetic pin bowl was rarely on hand. I finally purchased this one for my wrist. It’s essentially a slap bracelet covered in a suede-like fabric, so it’s sturdy and accommodates different wrist sizes. Having pins on my person is game-changing.

Sleeve board
Ironing is a huge component of sewing. First, get yourself a board that is sturdy enough not to creak and adjusts high enough to save your back. Then if you want to really treat yourself, buy a sleeve board which is a compact version that sits on top of a regular board or table. It makes pressing hems on small circumferences so much easier. It’s also good for raising fiddly, detailed work a little higher — making it easer to see.

I really like my Barbantia ironing board, but their sleeve boards aren’t readily available in the States, so I purchased this one instead. I really appreciate its double-sided design and use it for nearly every project.

Tailor’s clapper
This wooden tool helps set seams while ironing. It absorbs excess moisture and keeps fabric in place as it cools. I use mine while pressing patch pockets or the smaller, detailed parts of a button down shirt. I’m pleased with the quality of the one I purchased a couple years back.

Point turner
I would use a chopstick or other random objects to turn out the corners of collars, cuffs, and waistbands until a friend bought me this one. It really is an upgrade; it’s not too sharp, not too blunt, and just the right shape.

Clear quilting ruler
Turns out that being able to hold a gridded ruler over your work and see the fabric underneath comes in handy all the time. I use mine to create bias binding, check for accurate seam lengths, mark lines on fabric, etc. I have this one and find the size to be perfect for garment sewing.

Thread snips
It’s helpful to have an easily accessible means of clipping thread at all times. I relied solely on my main scissors for the longest, but getting a couple extra clipping tools improved my workflow. These snips are relatively inexpensive and get the job done. (I also use them to rip seams and trim buttonholes.) Beautiful ones like this tempt me, but I haven’t splurged yet.

Magic Pins
I love my extra fine glass head pins, but heavier weight fabrics absolutely demolish them. Enter Magic Pins. They come in different sizes, but I have a pack of the 1-3/4” quilting pins. They are not impervious to fabrics like denim, but they fare much better. I also enjoy their comfy rubber tips.

Expandable sewing gauge
I use this metal gadget for marking buttonholes on a shirt as I rarely reference the pattern’s guide. It allows me to easily try out different spacings and then quickly mark my decision.

Hot ruler
It took me way too long to realize that this was a thing. Apparently a super thin, ironable ruler makes pressing up hems so much easier. I use a Kearing ruler, but I want to try a Clover one too.

Ok, these are my favorite “non-essential” tools that I’ve slowly acquired over the years and have become indispensable. Also, I’m curious to know what tools are helping you. Am I missing anything?

Please note that some of the links included are affiliate links from which I earn a small commission. Thank you for supporting my work.

The Sorrel Pants caught my eye when Flora Child posted a prototype back in August of last year. I was drawn to the combination of barrel legs and pleats — two of my favorite design elements that don’t often appear in the same pattern. I remember weighing in about the elasticized back waistband, sharing my preference for an entirely structured option.

Upon their release I was happy to see that a non-elasticized view was included. There were also some nice looking versions sewn up by the testers, so I decided to make my own.

Choosing a Size
A quick glance at Flora Child’s size chart revealed that it’s not aligned with my waist-hip proportions. Currently I have an 11.5”/29 cm difference between the two, whereas a straight size on the chart has a difference of 9.5”/24 cm.

My current measurements:

Waist: 28.25”/71.8 cm
Low Hip: 39.75”/101 cm
High Hip: 34.5”/87.6 cm (about 3”/7.6 cm below the smallest part of my waist)
Height: 5’5”/165 cm (for reference)

Here they are, plotted on the pattern’s size chart:

Before choosing a size, I also reviewed the garment measurements chart, measured the pattern pieces, and read notes from other sewists before cutting a straight size C. Note that this size aligns perfectly with my waist, but is over a size smaller than what’s recommended for my hip measurement.

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Sewing the Pattern
Sewing the pattern was enjoyable. The pattern drafting is excellent and the instructions are thorough. Callout frames containing helpful tips are a nice touch.

Something important to note about the design is that the waistband is drafted with excess ease at the back to facilitate cinching with either elastic inserts or side tabs, depending on the view. Since I don’t prefer the look of a structured front/elastic back combo, I chose the tabs view (B). I did, however, have reservations about how the excess waistband fabric would lie when worn.

I appreciate the inclusion of hem facings for an elevated finish. I would prefer, however, a larger overlap of the front pant pieces to ensure complete zipper coverage. The pattern is drafted with a .2”/5 mm overlap, but I rather something closer to 3/8”/1 cm. My result was fine, but a little more wiggle room would be nice.

Also worth mentioning is that I skipped the pocket shield based on the weight of my fabric — a consideration noted in the pattern’s instructions.

I sewed these in a 7 oz/250 gsm cotton broadcloth, also marketed as a fine weave canvas. Notions included a #3 metal zipper, tex 40 topstitching thread, and wide rim corozo buttons. In my opinion, the chosen materials are perfect for this pattern.

Assessing the Finished Garment
During my first try-on, I realized I could use a touch more room at the low hip and shouldn’t have strayed so far from the size chart in that area. It was most evident with my hands in the pockets, as I could feel an unintended snugness across the seat. Thankfully, the pants relax with wear, providing enough hip ease to be perfectly wearable without distorting the look of the pleats.

When examining the position of the side seams on my body, they fall more toward the back than the middle of my leg. Ideally, they’d shift forward about 1/4”/6 mm, affording me an extra 1/2”/1.3 cm around the fullest part of my seat and centering the position of the seams.

When considering how I’d adjust a future pair, my first thought is to cut a size larger (D) for only the back pieces, but then I’d be increasing the waist size too. Maybe I could then offset the additional waist length by removing a small wedge at the center back. I could also just grade between sizes C and D as the size chart implies, and accept that the side seams will likely sit slightly more toward the back of my body.

Another thing I noticed is a slight pulling across the front pant just below the waistband. This may look like the band is too snug, but it’s actually fastened with ample ease. I revisited other sewists’ photos and sure enough, this pulling is present on a few other versions. I’m unsure of the mechanics behind it, although I suspect it’s less of a fit issue and more related to the design — maybe the outward positioning of the pleats? All said, this is minor and I don’t feel it’s noticeable enough to fret over.

Final Thoughts
I really like these pants and have worn them multiple times already. I am not bothered by the excess waist ease and have come to appreciate the adjustable tabs for both their comfort and design.

With my fabric choice I view these as very casual, but I can easily dress them up as I’ve done in the photos. They’ve already received multiple compliments offline, which is always a welcome affirmation. I definitely plan to make another pair with some version of the adjustments mentioned above.

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I’ve embraced the barrel leg incrementally. A quick glance at my Instagram feed reveals a predilection for sewing pants, with an increasing number featuring that ubiquitous outer curve between hip and ankle.

The Just My Luck Jeans pattern from House of Izzie was on my radar since its release in 2024. While the design details — especially the leg darts — intrigued me, I debated whether the shape would be too dramatic for my comfort.

I finally purchased the pattern in late 2025, but didn’t sew it for months. The scales recently tipped when I ordered a softened mid-weight denim without a pattern in mind. Upon receipt, I knew the fabric’s balance of structure and fluidity would be perfect for my version of the jeans.

Choosing a Size
The instructions suggest choosing a size based on the high hip measurement, but distinguishing between high and low hip isn’t something I’m used to for most patterns. On my body, low hip is less ambiguous as it’s simply the largest possible measurement of that region. High hip seems hazier to determine. Nonetheless, I took my measurements and got the following:

Waist: 28.25” / 71.8 cm
Low Hip: 39.75” / 101 cm
High Hip: 34.5” / 87.6 cm (about 3” / 7.6 cm below the smallest part of my waist)
Height: 5’5” / 165 cm (for reference)

Here they are, plotted on the pattern’s B-block size chart:

After reviewing the finished measurements chart, analyzing the pattern pieces, and reading notes from other sewists, I ultimately cut a straight size 6 with a 29.75” inseam.

Sewing the Pattern
I was pleased with the pattern’s drafting and finishing techniques. As I like to put it, all of the pieces fit together perfectly.

The instructions and accompanying illustrations are incredibly clear. The order is different than what I’m used to, but that’s not a criticism. I appreciate how zipper installation is one of the first steps. Finishing the tricky part early on is a welcome mental boost.

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Initial Modifications
I didn’t modify the sizing, but diverged from the pattern instructions in terms of technique:

The pattern calls for a 3/4” seam allowance at the back yoke and saddle to accommodate flat felling; however, on denim I prefer to faux fell for less bulk. I simply sewed with the specified allowance and trimmed to 1/2” as I overlocked the seams.

I anchored the lower end of the belt carriers beneath the waistband instead of affixing them directly to the finished garment.

I removed 1/2” from the hemline for a final inseam length of 29.25.”

Design-wise, I shifted the placement of the back pockets, raising the inner corners 1/8” and the outer corners 3/8.” This choice was based on images of other sewists’ finished jeans.

Assessing the Fit
After attaching the waistband, I noted some gaping at the back. Experience has taught me not to fret as this usually self-corrects after laundering and wear.

Fresh from the dryer the waistband did fit somewhat better. The legs also relaxed, draping in a way that gently subdued the outer curve. I was really pleased with the result.

After wearing them for a few hours, however, the fabric opened up to the point of feeling too loose. The pattern suggests there should be some “slouchiness,” but I wanted a fitted waist and hip to balance the roomier legs.

Further Adjustments
To counteract the ease, I detached the waistband, removed a couple of rivets, and unpicked the hem to increase the 1/2” side seam allowances to 3/4.” This effectively reduced the waistband and hip circumferences by 1” and slightly narrowed the legs. I then cut a new waistband to be 1” shorter than the first.

Running up the sides definitely improved the fit. Fresh out of the dryer, they are snug up top, but not tight. They relax just enough with some wear. Thankfully, the adjustments don’t noticeably affect the garment’s visual proportions.

One regret is removing that 1/2” from the inseam as I don’t prefer an “in-between” length; I’d rather an intentional crop or a substantial break at the shoe.

I should also mention that I overlooked a note about the pattern being designed for a height of 5’8.” At 5’5,” I’d need to slightly shorten the rise, maybe 3/8”-1/2,” to achieve the intended proportions. The pants would then sit slightly lower on my waist — at a larger circumference — and perhaps gape less. That said, I prefer the higher rise.

Final Thoughts
Overall, I really like these jeans. The pattern, fabric, and notions coalesced into an elevated and well-fitting garment. I think they are giving a combination of Toast and Christophe Lemaire.

I already have a second pair cut out with a longer inseam. I’ll run up the sides again, but this time at just 5/8” for a touch more ease.

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Last year I shared an Instagram reel about sewing a pair of pants in four days. While it illustrated that the garment could, in fact, be completed in this timespan, it did not reveal the amount of hours spent working. Did I sew for one hour each day for a total of four hours? Or was it eight hours each day for a total of thirty-two? Point being, there’s a lot of room for variation within a day.

While I was never under the illusion that I could sew pants in four hours, I also couldn’t estimate hours worked with much certainty. I’d attempted timekeeping before, but the effort usually fizzled early in the process. For my latest pair of jeans, however, I faithfully logged each time I began and ended a work session. Once the project was complete, I not only learned my total working time, but also considered the perception of sewing speed or “how long” it takes to make something.

Tracking Details
Before I share my timekeeping insights, a few notes about what I tracked as working time:

• I started the clock after laundering, so my first step was to iron the fabric prior to cutting.

• I do not have a dedicated sewing room, so I set up and took down parts of my station at least once daily. This added a few minutes to either end of many sewing sessions.

• Small breaks for restroom or snacks were included, but I clocked out for breaks over five minutes long.

• I occasionally filmed parts of the sewing process. This was relatively quick, but did add a few minutes to some sessions.

• Staring at a set of instructions or a technical illustration for longer than I’d like to admit is also included in the working time. Surely this isn’t just me?

Additional Context
Generally, I don’t rush through a sewing project. I take my time, clip threads as I go, and redo any stitching that doesn’t meet my quality standards. I’m meticulous and want the product to look professionally made.

I often choose to “go back in” if something feels or looks off. For these jeans, I interfaced both sides of the waistband despite the instructions to interface only one side. Once fully sewn, I determined that the band felt too thick and proceeded to detach, remove the additional interfacing, and resew. This took over two hours.

Data and Insights
Ok, let’s break it all down.

I started sewing on January 7 and finished on January 14.
Timespan: 8 days

I worked on the project during seven of the eight days.
Days worked: 7

I clocked in and out multiple times during most working days.
Sessions: 17

The time that I worked per day varied. I have a traditional full-time job, so weekends are usually higher productivity days.

I was also curious to know the average time spent working per day.
Average daily working time (of days worked): ~3 hours

And finally, the grand total.
Total active working time: 20.7 hours

All of this confirms what I strongly suspected: It takes me many hours to finish a project. Within the span of about a week, this is a lot of sewing, especially with a full time job and other responsibilities. My schedule was packed and I definitely needed recovery time before starting something new.

In terms of sewing speed, I determined that I’m relatively slow. However, a friend recently told me that she considers me fast — pointing out that I finished a pair of jeans in a week, whereas it could take her months to complete the same garment. She was basing her assessment on timespan, the range between the task’s beginning and end dates. I was thinking of speed in terms of active working time, so there are different ways to interpret this concept.

Final Thoughts
My garments are treasured possessions as they are a true labor to create. Do I think that making clothes is the right choice for everyone considering the substantial time commitment? It depends. Time is valuable and sewing takes time. Even if you sew relatively fast in any sense of the word, it’s still a lot of time.

Making the majority of one’s own clothes is not just a hobby, it’s a lifestyle. For me it comes down to enjoying the process. I’m a craftsperson by nature, so I am compelled by the materiality of things and working with my hands. The act of clothes making and wearing has become such a source of joy and satisfaction, it’s imperative that I make time to honor this aspect of myself — even if it’s a lot of time.

While I’ve recorded information about my sewing projects for years, 2024 was the first time I took a closer look at the data, using visualization tools to more deeply understand what, when, and how much I sewed. It was also the first year that I tracked dollars spent. Understanding the cost of my craft was especially illuminating and established a baseline for future years’ spending.

In 2025 I reset my usual spreadsheet, removing columns that felt superfluous and adding a couple that were missing. When I reviewed the data in late December, I realized that I only wanted to focus on a few categories of information. And more importantly, I wanted to compare category inputs to those of the previous year. It’s in the year-over-year analytics that patterns begin to emerge, and around those patterns, a deeper understanding of my practice.

What I Sewed
One way of tracking my handmade wearables is by “type,” a category that includes tops, pants/shorts, skirts, dresses, outerwear, and accessories. This year, I mainly made tops and pants — and an equal number of each to boot.

While I’ll loosely plan 2-4 garments in advance, I don’t set out to make a specific number in any category. So it was neat to see how the 2025 category breakdown is incredibly similar to that of 2024!

I sewed 23 distinct patterns which are included in the graph below. Note that I repeated a handful of patterns, with the most sewn at the top.

I also looked at my most sewn pattern designers. Below, the designers whose patterns I sewed more than once. Repeats of the same pattern are included.

Key takeaways: I like separates and prefer to wear pants over dresses and skirts. I discovered indie pattern designer Indigo Indigo last year and found their easy fitting, unisex garments to be well-drafted and exactly what I needed for a hot summer filled with walking.

How Much I Sewed
In 2025 I sewed a total of 31 projects compared to 27 in 2024, for a 14.8% increase year-over-year. This equates to a monthly average of 2.58 garments per month, compared to 2024’s monthly average of 2.25.

Key takeaways: Numerically speaking I was more productive in 2025; however, project complexity can greatly affect these numbers. Many of last year’s projects were simpler patterns with a quicker turnaround.

When I Sewed
Last year I became interested in monthly breakdowns — in terms of projects and spending. The two graphs below illustrate monthly productivity for 2025 and 2024, respectively.

Key takeaways: While the charts’ monthly patterns are generally dissimilar, there is one obvious commonality: productivity dips in the last quarter, with nothing made in November.

Spending
Year-over-year, my sewing-related spending decreased by 16.8%. Monthly spending averaged $153.13, compared to the previous year’s $183.96.

Below, see my actual monthly spending for each year.

Key takeaways: Spending oscillates throughout the year with repeated peaks and valleys. Notably, November is my highest spend month for both years, which is partly due to seasonal sales. It’s also interesting how production is inversely proportional to spending, as I made nothing in November of the past two years. In winter, I tend to experience a degree of burnout and shift focus to administrative tasks, stocking up, and planning for the year ahead.

Goals for 2026
One loose goal for this year is to keep my fabric stash at a manageable amount, saving both space and money. I prefer to have no more than 10-12 cuts of fabric on hand at one time. Before buying more fabric, I’d like to use at least half of my current stock.

In terms of money, I’d ideally spend less than I did last year, but will be satisfied if the total stays under $2000.

I have no goals around which patterns or designers I sew, but I do want to focus on more complex projects such as coats, jackets and jeans. Because of this, I expect productivity to be lower.

And because I haven’t made a single thing in November of the last two years, let’s see if I can eke something out in November of 2026!

I’m here for all the pants with monikers like “arc,” “balloon,” and “barrel,” but prefer something on the subtler side for myself. I was initially drawn to the May Jean for its “shaped leg” view, or what a recent post commenter aptly dubbed a “baby barrel.” I envisioned my pair as easy-fitting, with just a hint of that curved silhouette. Alas, the pattern languished in my backlog for over a year, as it often requires celestial alignment for a project to come to fruition. The May Jean is the third jeans pattern that I’ve sewn, and my first project of the new year.

Sizing and Fit

If you’ve been around for a while then you likely know that I don’t often toile — opting to study others’ fit notes, measure pattern pieces, and cross my fingers instead. While it’s true that I want to avoid a hassle, there are additional reasons for this choice: Nowadays, I’m more accepting of various fits, so if a pant turns out anywhere on the spectrum of slim to slouchy, it’ll likely find a place in my rotation. I also prefer to sew my first version in a straight size to evaluate the out-of-the-box fit and share my findings.

My sizing investigation of the May Jean didn’t turn up much, but what it did suggested a roomier cut. At first I considered sizing down, but ultimately chose my recommended size. For this pattern, an NZ size 12 most closely matches my measurements and that’s what I sewed with no modifications.

Something that I immediately noted about the size chart is the 11.9”(30cm) difference between the waist and hip measurements. This substantially differs from those of most patterns I’ve sewn, for which the waist and hip differ by only 9” or 10” (23 or 25.5cm). Sure enough, these jeans feel fairly relaxed, especially in the hip region. This tracks, given that my waist is slightly larger, and hips slightly smaller, than the chart measurements for my size — each differing by about 5/8”(1.5cm). The waist is very high, and due to the curvier proportions, the jeans don’t necessarily slouch as would pants with a lower rise or straighter cut. Overall, they fit as I imagined they would: roomy, but not baggy. The ankle-grazing length is spot on for my 5’5”(165cm) height.

Compared to the other jeans patterns that I’ve sewn, the Worship Jeans from Daughter Judy Patterns and Helene Jeans from Anna Allen Clothing, these feel the roomiest. In the Worship Jeans, I sewed the size nearest my measurements and they are a closer fit. It’s harder to draw a comparison with the Helene Jeans though, because I sized down. If I’d sewn my suggested size, I predict the ease would be comparable, with the May Jeans being slightly larger.

Sewing Challenges

I find this to be a quality pattern with well-written instructions, but did experience a couple of challenges. First, I found the 3/8”(1cm) seam allowance to be somewhat narrow given that jeans traditionally require two rows of topstitching. I had to slightly reduce my preferred row spacing for the outer row to catch the seam allowance. This was mainly an issue with the horizontal topstitching where the back pant pieces connect to the yoke. Next time, I’ll slightly extend the seam allowance in this area.

Also, the pattern advises that the waistband is slightly shorter than the jean itself (for fit purposes), which requires a degree of easing to fit them together. The discrepancy seemed more significant, however, and the easing process was difficult. As a result, the fabric below the waistband has a slightly wavy appearance. I acknowledge that the top of the pants, despite being stay stitched, could have stretched during the construction and try-on processes. Nonetheless, this is something to keep in mind. Since the waistband is straight, I recommend adding a little length to provide some wiggle room if necessary.

Materials

I constructed the May Jean with a 13 oz. deadstock cotton bull denim. The fabric is softer with a pronounced weave. The mid-weight topstitching thread appears white, but is actually a medium gray. The rivets and donut button are a brushed silver tone.

In terms of the fabric’s “give,” it’s harder to evaluate since the garment isn’t particularly fitted. I suspect this denim relaxes a moderate amount, but it’s less relevant here as my body isn’t stressing the weave.

Final Thoughts

This is a pattern that I plan to make again. I found the instructions clear, the order of steps intuitive, and the result an overall success. The pattern has three views, but I’ll most likely repeat the shaped leg in the same size.

For the past few years, I've logged data on my sewing (and crochet) projects with increasing granularity. This year, I finally tracked dollars spent.

The numbers are certainly a reminder that having an art or craft practice isn’t cheap, but I wouldn’t say they’re particularly surprising. Mainly, I’m excited to have established a baseline for subsequent years’ spending.

Here’s the cost breakdown, two ways.

The grand total of dollars spent comes out to $183 per month. I find a monthly breakdown useful as I’m more apt to look at spending (and earning) in terms of months.

Data Limitations

Good data can be misinterpreted. For example, the “Fabric & Notions” amount — which is mostly fabric, to be fair — is a substantial slice of the pie. Upon first glance one might assume that I sewed $1665 worth of fabric and notions, but that’s incorrect. The materials purchased within a year don’t neatly correspond to the garments actually made. In November, I placed a sizable fabric order during the sales, and still had unused yardage from previous orders. I’m headed into next year with about 25 garments’ worth of fabric.

The same goes for patterns. I didn’t sew all purchased patterns, but sewed some more than once.

Savings Considerations

I don’t buy fabric locally as the options are severely limited, so I mainly source from a handful of online shops that offer free shipping for larger orders. These savings, along with ecological considerations, make bulk purchases preferable. The main issue here is that I’m forced to plan projects well in advance of actually sewing them. Inevitably, I lose enthusiasm for certain ideas, or new ones get prioritized in the backlog.

Printing PDF patterns is similar. With a lack of affordable A0 printing nearby, I order from an online service with savings contingent on multiple prints per purchase.

2025 Forecasting

My goal is to use a substantial portion of my fabric stash before restocking, so I expect this category to decrease in 2025. Ideally, I’ll slash this amount by at least 65%.

While I enjoy buying new patterns, I’m always searching for something foundational — a go-to, versatile design that I can make multiple times. This year, I discovered a few of said patterns which should result in less purchases next year. I also plan to try my hand at drafting, but more on that later!

I spent about $155 on printing PDF patterns; however, I also purchased a short throw projector which should greatly reduce next year’s printing expense. At $175, I figure it’ll essentially pay for itself in a year or so.

While it may seem like I’m on track to spend less in 2025, I do foresee a couple of equipment purchases that’ll likely negate any overall reduction.

Other Stats for the Curious

Below, see the category breakdown for sewing project categories, two ways. I made a total of 27 projects for a year-over-year increase of 35%. This is an average rate of 2.25 projects per month. For my schedule, a consistent output of 2-3 garments per month is a steady, sustainable pace that mitigates the risk of burnout.

Evidently, I prefer pants to dresses and skirts (and don’t foresee this changing next year). One glaringly absent category is outerwear though. Top of the list for 2025 is a wool coat.

Of my 27 projects, I sewed a total of 18 different patterns. The top 3 pattern designers is based on the number of garments made from each, including repeats.

I purchased 11 patterns and made 5, which is a make rate of slightly less than 50%. Unmade patterns are a result of planning too far out — often related to ordering multiple A0 prints at once for the savings. Not included in the chart below are 3 patterns gifted for testing, for which my make rate is 100%.

Improving Metrics

Next year, I want to figure fabric and materials cost per garment since my yearly fabric purchases don’t necessarily align with garments made the same year. I’d also like to track time spent for at least a couple of projects. Seeing the materials and labor cost per garment will be especially illuminating. I expect it to be in the hundreds based on a fair labor rate alone, but how many hundreds is TBD.

Final Thoughts

Arts or crafts by no means have to be functional, but I certainly find satisfaction in the pragmatic nature of mine. Since I now make most of my wardrobe, my craft spending has offset money formerly spent on ready-to-wear clothes.

Sharing my stats this year was great for a couple of reasons: I enjoy providing useful information to a community whose collective knowledge I continuously learn from. Additionally, analyzing the data allowed for deeper insights than simply collecting it. It made me really consider what’s most useful and what’s missing. And as I continue to track, I look forward to the story that emerges from a year-over-year perspective.

Abbreviated analytics on Instagram here.

Since I’m generally adverse to toiles, I live for fit notes from fellow sewers; the thing is, I find they often contain modifications which can make interpretation tricky. Since I just went on a pants-sewing bender making four patterns in the same, unmodified numerical size, I imagined this baseline for comparison could prove helpful to others who also prefer research over muslins. My goal here is to share about how the sizes that I chose fit my body, and while I mention some design differences, this is by no means a design comparison. All of these pants are drafted very differently!

In addition to fabric choice, I want to note some other factors that are relevant to the achieved fit. First off, I prepared all of the fabrics by laundering, heat drying, and steam ironing prior to cutting. For the straight waistbands (all except that of the Coe Trouser), I cut a size up to ensure enough length should there be any stretching of the waist area. (This means that the waist could’ve become a touch larger than drafted.) Finished garments were then washed and tumble dried. Otherwise, I always aim for precision when cutting and sewing to ensure the fit is as accurate as possible. Lastly, all photos included show the pants after having been laundered, lightly worn, and then fluffed in the drier to de-wrinkle.

My Size
My current measurements include a 29”/73cm waist and 39.5”/100cm hip at 5’5”/165cm height. To be more nuanced about my shape, I fill more space from front-to-back (side view) with a tummy pooch and full bum, than side-to-side (front view).

On the Anna Allen Clothing size chart, my measurements are closest to a size 8, whereas I’m nearest a size 6 on the Daughter Judy Patterns chart. I’ve always chosen to size down by one in Anna Allan pants, so I sewed the Persephones and Helenes in a 6. Based on my experience with a previous pair of Daughter Judy trousers, I chose the recommended 6 for the Coes and Worships.

Persephone Pants
Size 6 | no mods
Again, the Anna Allen size chart puts me nearest a size 8, but as I like these to fit snugly, I sewed a 6. For this pair, I used a 10 ounce, 100% cotton denim which I suspected would relax a touch—and it did. Because these started off quite fitted, the slight relaxing of the fabric provides just enough ease to be comfortable without bagging out. The interfaced waist band doesn’t really stretch, but allows for just enough room to comfortably sit and eat.

When I sew these again, I won’t change a thing. If I wanted something more relaxed, however, an 8 would also work.

Helene Jeans
Size 6 | 34” inseam | straight leg view | no mods
I’d read that the Helene Jeans are slightly more relaxed than the Persephone Pants and found this to be true for the hips and seat, but less relevant to the waist. I chose a 12 ounce brushed denim of 100% cotton which felt substantial yet soft.

Hot off the press, they were gently fitted in the hips and waist and seemed to fit me as intended based on the designer’s marketing images. (Remember that I sized down about one size per the chart). After a day of wear, the waist barely changed in size while the hip and upper thigh eased up moderately. I’d seen a few mentions of these having excess fabric in the font crotch region, but I didn’t notice any fit issues there.

If I wanted more of a Persephone Pants fit, I could probably grade down in the hips with this particular fabric. Had I sewed my size per the chart (an 8), I’d expect these to be nearing a slouchy look by end-of-day. Personally, I love the straight leg view one size down and won’t change a thing for my next version.

Video of pants in motion.

Coe Trousers
Size 6 | no mods
I sewed these in a 7 ounce, fine weave canvas of 100% cotton. I had made a previous pair in a size 4, and while I could get them on, they felt too tight in the waist, hips, and crotch curve. I figured sewing a size up (my recommended size) would rectify these issues, but unfortunately, I could still use some vertical room in the crotch—especially when seated.

During wear these do ease up a bit, allowing the waist to sit lower and resulting in more vertical crotch room. This makes me wonder if they sit higher on my waist than intended. An anatomical factor could be my lower belly shape keeping them from slouching more. Another consideration is that I included full pocket stays, and while I really like the additional support that these offer, I suspect they keep the fabric from opening up as much as it normally would while wearing.

When I make these again, I’ll add ½” to the front and back rise at the adjustment lines and perhaps extend the back crotch curve an additional ¼.” 

Video of pants in motion.

Worship Jeans
Size 6 | tapered view | no mods
I sewed these jeans in a very sturdy 13 ounce, 100% cotton denim. Directly following the Helenes, what struck me most was the curved hip shape of the Worships compared to the straight, selvedge-friendly hip of former. While I really like the shaping of the seat (#daughterjudybooty is real here), the hip curve may be a touch more pronounced than I need as most of my hip measurement comes from my bum.

Right after sewing, I found these to be gently fitted, except with more back waist gaping than I’d prefer. (Side note: I’ve actually learned to ignore a small amount waist gaping from newly-sewn pants. A rookie mistake is to over fit at this stage, when subsequent laundering and wearing usually reduce some of this.) I chose to leave as-is, and sure enough, another wash and dry mostly corrected things. After a day of wear, the fabric relaxed moderately.

When I sew the tapered version again, my only modification will be the removal of a ¼” wedge from the center back seam, for a total waist reduction of ½.” If I sew the flared view, I’ll consider sizing down for that Dazed and Confused fit.

Video of pants in motion.

I’d say all of these pants fit me well and I’ve already worn each pair multiple times. In the waist and hips, I find the Persephone Pants to be the most fitted, followed by the Helene Jeans and Coe Trouser (perhaps due to the pocket stays), and then the Worship Jeans. All said, I’m more apt to size down in pants from Anna Allen Clothing than from Daughter Judy Patterns.

And finally, please remember that this is my personal experience and fit could vary based on multiple factors.

For having a social media account dedicated to sewing clothes, my closet is pretty modest. It's also true that I generally prefer a pared down closet. In life and in clothes, I find excess burdensome and frequently subject my possessions to a good editing. My wardrobe oscillates between a uniform of mostly black solids and a slightly expanded version of said uniform, which would include some lighter neutrals and stripes.

In 2022, I didn’t buy or sew much in the way of clothing, but I’ve spent a good part of 2023 slowly opening up my wardrobe with some new handmade pieces. These have been my most successful to date in terms of fit, finish and complexity, and I’m confident that I can now produce most of what I would have formerly purchased ready-made.

As the ratio of ready-made to handmade skews toward the latter, my perspective on my closet is shifting as well. A growing collection of my own handiwork is incredibly satisfying, and I’m enjoying exploring new cuts, fabrics and prints all the while. The prospect of a more robust closet has me feeling energized and eager to embrace a less minimalistic approach to getting dressed.

Cultivating some variety will also play into another focus for the new year: styling. While I’ve developed a keen eye to the subtleties of a singular garment, combining separates to create a “look” is challenging for me. I’ve been following a few folks online who are creating some really interesting outfits, and I’m inspired to focus on creatively styling my own handmade pieces.

Aside from compiling digital mood boards of sartorial visionaries, I’ve been revisiting the elements and principles of design, concepts harkening back to my days as a visual arts student. These were not taught in terms of clothing and style, but they absolutely apply to any visual system. Texture, proportion, and emphasis are currently top of mind when thinking about noteworthy ensembles. I suspect I’ll be doing some deep dives into this topic in the future.

I produced around 20 garments this past year—most successes, a couple so-so’s, and a couple flops. For me, a flop is something that I don’t wear because it either fits poorly or doesn’t suit me. This is often linked to jumping on the bandwagon of a trending pattern or volunteering to test designs that I have no real interest in wearing. While failing is undoubtedly part of the growth process, I’d rather do so by attempting a difficult project than by ignoring my instinct regarding certain patterns or projects. While the flops are less frequent these days, I want to maintain this trend, resulting in less disappointment and waste.

Crafting a list at the beginning of the year is one of my favorite rituals, so without futher ado, my sewing-related intentions for 2024:

• Make everything! Exceptions include anything that I can’t realistically create myself, like that vintage Frasier t-shirt from Depop

• Create a physical mood board for style images, fabric swatches, and sketches

• Prioritize buying resale and deadstock fabrics

• Finish setting up my sewing space

• In terms of social media, think less about exposure and more about being the most authentic version of myself

• Track purchases like fabric, notions, equipment, patterns and plotter prints (inspired by Alexandria Arnold’s reel)

If any of these resonate, or if there’s anything on your own list that you’d like to share, feel free to comment below!

I have a handful of button downs planned for the coming months and decided to start things off with the Genra Shirt from Daughter Judy Patterns. The pattern is relatively new and already there are a ton of inspiring versions on Instagram. There aren’t as many of the long view, but I immediately envisioned this as both a dress and a duster.

Sizing: On the DG size chart I’m almost exactly a small, but I decided to size down to an extra small due to the generous ease. For the long version, I’d advise against sizing down more than a full size in the hips though. Mine are currently a half inch over the small measurement and I have just enough room in that region when buttoned. Any greater difference and I’d grade the hips to my recommended size.

Modifications: I didn’t change a thing, but will make a couple of tweaks to my next version, including shortening the cuff height by 1/2” and the sleeve placket height by 2.” These mods would allow me to more easily roll the shirt sleeves as the openings are too large to do so.

Finishing: I created a “clean finish” facing and elected not to sew it down, but finished the rest of the garment as instructed. On my next, I’ll use the burrito method on the yoke for that extra special finish.

For reference, I am 5’5” (165 cm) tall. My current b/w/h measurements are 33.5”(85) / 28”(71) / 38.5”(98).

Despite this project presenting a couple of “firsts” for me, namely a cuff-placket combo and a notched collar, it came together easily. I found the instructions generally accessible, but did need the assistance of an online tutorial to attach the placket binding correctly.

My favorite aspect of this garment is its versatility. When worn as a dress, it works with and without a belt; as a duster, it pulls everything together with a touch of drama. If I were to pick a favorite detail, it’s the perfectly curved hemline with generous side slits.

I now have two more versions in the queue: a long view in black poplin (because obviously) and a short view in a striped Kaffe cotton.

Admittedly, I was somewhat daunted by the prospect of making this pattern. My first version had been sitting on my sewing table—fully cut and interfaced—for over a month. A whole lot of thought and planning went into this phase, so I assumed that sewing the thing would be similarly onerous. But it was not.

Let me back up. I knew from the get-go I wasn’t going to make a toile because it seemed like too much work. While fully acknowledging the flaws in this reasoning, I did attempt to mitigate the likelihood of a sewing flop by reading lots of notes about the pattern by other sewists. I scoured photos, compared measurements and landed on some modifications with a good degree of confidence.

Here’s what I did:

General sizing: Many reviews described the hips as relatively narrow compared to the bodice, so I cut a size 6 at the top and graded out to an 8 at the lower hip due to my particular body shape. I then tapered down to a 4 through the leg for a slightly more streamlined look.

Waisline: I wanted the waistband to sit closer to my natural waist, so I shortened the bodice by an inch and increased the rise by the same amount. Keep in mind that this causes the hip pockets to sit higher.

Back waistband: I cut these pieces entirely from the main fabric, but skipped the interfacing on the second version (pictured) to lessen the stiffness.

Breast pockets: I moved them up about 3/8” as they sat a little low for my taste. I also found raising them to be more optically pleasing as they were encroaching on the now higher waistline.

Hip pockets: The hip pocket lining was slightly visible on many of the Blanca photos, so when I read how Martha (Buried Diamond) omitted the lining and bias bound the pocket curves instead, I followed suit. Pun intended.

Sleeves: For the sleeveless version, my original plans for the garment included a short sleeve, but I tried it on just before adding the sleeves and really liked the sleeveless look. I was nervous that since the armscye was drafted for a sleeve, it may not work well without, so I slightly tweaked the shape before binding to finish. For someone with a larger bust, I’d caution against the sleeveless mod without a more intentional re-draft of the armscye and/or the addition of a dart.

For the short sleeve version (pictured), I decreased the sleeve length by 1/2” before hemming.

Zipper: I omitted the zipper shield.

For reference, I am 5’5” (165 cm) tall. My current b/w/h measurements are 33.5”(85) / 28”(71) / 38.5”(98).

After the changes, I’m elated to report that I achieved a good fit! I’m happy with the rise adjustment and the subtle hip and leg grading. Overall, it fits like a dream and the fact that I’ve made two (thus far) speaks for itself.

If I’m to be picky, there’s some excess fabric around the small of my back; however, I’m not sure that there’s a good solve without compromising the functionality of the garment. For my second version I kept this area as-is, accepting it as a part of the design.

Ultimately, this pattern was a joy to sew: it is perfect for using well-behaved wovens that sew up easily, there are ample opportunities to flex those topstitching skills, the hardware is a fun touch and can be played up or down depending on one’s preference, the instructions are well-written, and simply put, all of the pattern pieces fit together perfectly.

Again, the hardest part of this project was the planning phase. The excellent instructions and well-drafted pattern made for a really satisfying sew. I took care to ensure each element was as nice as possible and I’m really proud of its professional-like quality. Now I feel primed to make more workwear—more denim, topstitching and rivets, please!

As soon as Melody of Soften Studio released her latest pattern, the Lea Bias Dress, I made the purchase. The dress looked like the perfect versatile basic and I imagined sewing it up in my favorite mid-weight linen.

Because I seem to have a particularly difficult time honoring my “always make a toile” resolution, I scoured other sewists’ sizing notes before deciding which size to cut. I read a couple of comments about the bust and armpits being snug, so I began to think that sizing up—instead of my frequent choice to size down—would yield the best fit. I also noticed that the bust measurements for the finished garment were very close to the corresponding body measurements, so I cut one size up, a 10. My only modifications were to slightly lower the neckline and armpits based on personal preference.

Once I had the dress pieced together, I realized that it was a touch too loose, so I adjusted by increasing the seam allowances at both the side and shoulder seams, effectively making it a size 8. The result was a perfectly-fitted dress.

As I become more familiar with bias cut garments, I understand that they have more “give” and conform to the body in a way that straight grain garments do not. After all my sizing deliberation, I should have elected to sew the size that matched my actual bust measurement despite the pattern’s lack of ease in that region. For the next version, I’ll cut my suggested size, repeat the armpit modification and further lower the neckline for less coverage up top.

I’ve worn this dress a bunch already. I adore its draped silhouette that can be dressed up or down depending on how it’s styled. I’m also excited to wear it during colder weather and can already imagine it paired with a turtle neck and boots.

Making a short sleeve button down for my husband was on my to-do list for over a year. After finding the perfect fabric and a promising pattern, I finally began.

I took careful measurements of both my husband and his ready-to-wear shirts and compared them to the finished garment measurements listed on the pattern. I studied numerous notes and reviews from folks who’d already made the shirt. Despite my careful preparation, however, it was just too small.

The reason for this is that I was mainly concerned with comparing chest (pit-to-pit) and waist measurements, but failed to consider upper chest volume, shoulder width and the presence of back pleats. Also, I’m used to sewing easy-fitting tops for myself for which nuanced measurements are not necessary.

I decided to remake the shirt in the next size up and am ultimately glad that I did. Even though the first version was sewn nicely, the second version is even nicer. The extra tweaks to the latter really took it to the next level.

For the curious, below are the details and modifications for the final shirt (pictured in this post):

• Cut a size large—my husband’s typical shirt size—in view B

• Added 1” of length to the collar band and collar and widened the neck opening to accommodate the extra length (If you’d like to actually button the top button, pay attention to the collar measurements. In my opinion, it runs quite small.)

• Omitted pocket stays for collar and instead created a facing similar to the view A collar

• Squared off bottom of pocket and omitted flap

• Reduced the length of the shirt by 3/4” (model is 5’10”)

• Shortened sleeves
  

If I use the pattern again, there are still a couple of fit issues that I’d like to work out. First, the shoulders tend to pull forward, creating slight drag lines that extend from the front collar area to the armpit. I wonder if this is inherent to the pattern, if there’s still a sizing issue or if it’s perhaps related to my neck-widening adjustment. There’s also a taper at the waist that I may straighten out.

Sewing this shirt was not only a learning experience in terms of fitting but also in sewing with a new fabric. The cotton poplin was the finest and crispest fabric I’d ever used—it almost felt synthetic. To achieve the stitching look that I wanted, a super fine thread and microtex needle were needed. As I gain experience sewing with various fabrics, it becomes clear that needle type, thread weight and machine tension all play a huge role in creating a professional looking garment. After this project, I’m recommitting to making toiles (again, lol)—especially for tailored projects with high-quality fabric.

Overall, I’m pleased with this project and the recipient really likes the shirt. If there’s anything better than wearing my own handiwork, it may be seeing it on someone else.