Showing posts with label pattern drafting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pattern drafting. Show all posts

Monday, September 23, 2013

1830s Vest: Drafting and making up

So where have I been for so long? I've had a couple of other tailoring projects I was (and still am) working on that took priority over historical tailoring. I also moved, out of the big city to the 'burbs. This gives me my own tailoring room! I built a tailoring bench:


I just need some more wood for lower shelves, instead of putting the cloth on the floor. It's the perfect height for drafting, and not too hard to sit on.

Anyway, after the research from the last post I decided to make the vest from buff broadcloth, with a red polished cotton back and lining, and ties to cinch it in back. I used the "Single-breasted roll-collar waistcoat, 1830s-1840s" draft from R.I. Davis' Men's Garments 1830-1900.

 You can see where I'm going to add padding in the chest lining. I also wasn't sold on what kind of cinching I was going to use, and you can see two different tab ideas for lacing. In the end I won't use either of these methods, instead attaching cotton tape to the back as ties.

This broadcloth is pretty fabulous. I ordered it from Burnley & Trowbridge. Here it is after using the iron to shape it. You can see that the cloth doesn't want to lie flat, and in fact has quite a bit of volume now that I've shrunk and stretched various edges:

The back pieces, in red polished cotton (ordered from Payless Fabric). The back pattern piece is cut in two double pieces, for the inside and outside backs.

I used the front piece as a template to cut the canvas for the fronts. In this case since the broadcloth is already pretty heavy I used cotton muslin for the canvas, cut on the bias.

The pockets are done in the same way as I've done before.

Here I've added the collar extension, basted in the canvas, and basted in the edge tape. The tape for the collar roll line is basted in tight, to help keep the collar against the chest. The bottom edge is turned up, and creates its own facing to attach the lining to.

The edge of the button extension turned over and cross stitched to the canvas.

Now I discover a problem. This broadcloth is thick. It's about 1/16" thick on its own. Fold that over, and add a folded over facing, and I'm looking at a front edge that's 1/4" thick! I was worried that this might happen (but not worried enough that I took steps to fix it ahead of time). Enter the beauty of broadcloth - because it's tightly-woven and then felted, you can use a raw edge and not worry about it fraying. This was actually common with period clothing, and I've seen examples of this in person (I don't have any photos though).

I cut off the turn-over of the button extension, and trimmed 1/4" (the seam allowances) off the collar and facing edges. This isn't too pretty where I've already stitched on the edge tape, but I'm not going to take it off. This edge will be underneath the buttoned-up front so I'm not worried about catching a glimpse of the canvas. The buttonhole-side I hadn't done yet, so I trimmed the canvas back before I stitched on the edge tape for that piece.

I basted the facing in place. In the front where it buttons, the facing is just behind the front, and then shifts to be just ahead of the undercollar. Does that make sense? That way, the pieces that will be showing are overlapping the pieces that won't.

After felling the facing in place you can see how it wants to lie - it's not flat. This will (hopefully) form around my chest and neck.

Success! After felling the total thickness of the front edge is just over 1/16".

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Welt Pockets

Every time I've followed a pattern that has welt pockets, it seems that the directions for them are all different. I also have a hard time remember how I did it last time, so that every time I make a welt pocket (and here I'm talking about single welt pockets) I have to learn how to do it all over again.

This time, since I'm drafting my own pattern and can make the pieces however I like, I'm going to follow the method set out in The Victorian Tailor. The author gives two methods, but this is the one which he says is used most often after 1850.

In my pictures, since I wasn't thinking at all and used white thread against tan fabric, I've highlighted the stitches. I used yellow for basting stitches and red for final stitches.

Here is the piece to which I'm adding a welt pocket (the muslin for my waistcoat). I've drawn in chalk where the welt should go, with a line through the centre which is where the opening will be cut. As with almost all of the photos on this blog, you can click to enlarge them.

These are the pieces which will make up the pocket. The two top pieces are the pocketing. The left piece is for the bottom pocket, and the right is for the top. It is longer by the height of the welt (the height of the box I've drawn on the piece above). The bottom left is the welt itself, and the bottom right is a scrap of canvas I've cut to 1" longer than the finished welt.

The canvas is basted to the wrong side of the fabric. Luckily the muslin is thin enough that you can see the outline of the canvas through it. I also should have ironed it.

The welt is basted to the right side of the fabric. My seam allowances are all ¼", so I line up the welt so that the seam line lies on the bottom chalk line.

I then baste the top pocketing fabric, right side down, so that the bottom edge lines up with where the pocket opening will be cut. This is lower than the top chalk line.

Sew the seams for the welt and pocket. The welt seam goes from edge to edge of the chalk marks. The pocket seam ends ¼" inside the lines on both sides. Not to the edges.

Take the basting stitches out of the welt, and sew the bottom pocketing to it, right sides together. It won't lie flat, as shown below. This seam is the same length as the other welt seam - the total width of the pocket. Notice that the pocketing is ¼" wider than the welt. This is true for both pieces.

This is now what the right side of the fabric looks like, with all the pieces sewn in.

And this is what the wrong side looks like. Notice the basting stitches still in place. Now we will cut the pocket opening. Unlike any other welt pocket directions I've seen, this pocket is asymmetrical. It actually works out extremely well that way. Cut the opening the same width as the width of the pocketing seam. Cut straight up from the opening to the seam ends. Do not cut into the pocketing! Cut at an angle down to the seam ends of the welt. Do not cut into the welt! The pocket opening slit should only cut through the fabric and the canvas.

Pull the welt and attached bottom pocketing to the wrong side, and fold down the top pocketing on the right side (undoing the basting on the pocketing). This is what the right side looks like:

And this is what the wrong side looks like:

Fell stitch a piece of linen stay tape to the centre of the welt. I've folded the welt in half to find the centre. Try to make the stitches as small as possible so they don't show on the right side (though if they do they'll look like prick stitches, so it probably won't be that bad).

Fold the welt down (still from the wrong side of the fabric) and baste in place. You can see the basting stitches still in the canvas we basted down in the first step. This is a good time to press everything with an iron. The seams for the welt get pressed up into the welt on both sides. The seams from the pocketing get pressed toward the pocketing on both sides.

Push the welt through the pocket slit to the right side. Make sure it sits neatly on top of the fabric with no puckering. You'll see that because the pocketing is sewn to the welt ¼" from the edges, the welt will sit on one side of the slit and the pocketing on the other side without any bunching.

This is what the back looks like, all neatly arranged. Once again the top pocketing sits nice and flat, lying on top of the bottom pocketing.

Sew around the pocketing in an appropriate pocket shape. You can use back stitch or running back stitch. Make sure that the bottom isn't so long that it will interfere with the bottom hem of the garment when you finish it. I've pinked the edges so the pocket doesn't fray, but that probably isn't really necessary.

STOP! Do not complete this step yet if you are going to add canvas to your garment. If you are going to add canvas, complete this step afterwards, so that you can stitch through the canvas as well. That will both strengthen the pocket and help hold the canvas in place, which will strengthen the garment.

When you are ready, hem in the edges of the welt. You can trim away most of the fabric that you hem in, so the edges aren't too bulky. Fell the edges, and across the tops ¼" on each side. Prick stitch (through all layers, including the canvas) down from the end of the fell stitching, ¼" from the edges. In this picture I've prick stitched the edges instead of felling, but that's because I didn't read the directions properly. It will look better if you use invisible fell stitches, and then prick stitch like you should ¼" from the edges.

And there's your finished welt pocket! Repeat 100 times so you don't forget how to do it, and don't take 4 hours to do it like I did, interspersed with cursing.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Waistcoat 1: drafting a pattern


I have a waistcoat pattern that I've used several times before - the Laughing Moon #109 frock coat with waistcoat (I've also used the frock coat pattern, early in my sewing career, and at that point vowed I'd never make another frock coat; now I can't wait to make more). This time, however, I decided to draft my own pattern. I wanted two things: first of all, to have the back fit properly, without needing an adjustable belt, and second to have a basic pattern block that I could alter to make different styles of waistcoat.

Interestingly, although he gives detailed drafting directions for trousers and coats, Jason Maclochlainn doesn't describe how to draft a waistcoat in The Victorian Tailor. I will definitely be using his description for tailoring the garment, but to draft it I turned to The Cutter's Practical Guide to ...Waistcoats, &ct. (seriously, could these titles be any longer?). As happened the last time I drafted a pattern, I was cruising along, following the directions perfectly, and then suddenly nothing made sense anymore. The points referred to in the text didn't match the pictures. The text went from well-defined blocks of directions to one long, run-on paragraph containing several steps at once:
Now take Vincent's Registered Square, and place the angle line sloping down ¼ in front, and with the corner on point 2¼, and draw line up to A, and make 2¼ to A the front shoulder measure less ¼in., having deducted the width of back neck; so that in this case O to A is 9¾, that quantity being arrived at as follows 12½ less ¼ equals 12¼; from this take 2½ for the back neck, and you get 9¾. From 2¼ to 9 apply the over-shoulder measure less ½ E of the back, Diagram 3. Thus: ½ to E 8½ leaves 8½, but from this we also take ¼in., as with the front shoulder. The width of the shoulder from A to B is made ¼in. less than back from ¾ to 6, Diagram 3. Now shape scye from B to O.
 Riiiight. Never mind that all of the points referenced (the numbers) are based on an example set of measurements, and that your numbers will all be different.

I muddled through somehow, and ended up with a pattern that looked like the one in the example (except for the slightly rounded midsection to accommodate my slightly rounded midsection). I cut out a quick muslin, and discovered very quickly that having a personal tailor's form of my body would be great. I have a mannequin body that my wife got for me from the trash (yay, trash!), but he's a little manlier in the shoulders and chest than I am, so this form-fitting pattern won't fit him.

I also found that the images of taking measurements show having the measurements taken over a waistcoat on purpose. You're supposed to wear the garment you're measuring for. Which seems a little odd to me, but then again it makes sense that you're then basically copying the measurements of a garment that you know fits you. I had only been wearing a shirt when I was measured, so the waistcoat was pretty snug.

The last thing I discovered is that I can't draw an armscye to save my life.

 The final image here is of the altered armscye that will actually fit around my arms (it's a little lower I think than the example diagram expects it to be, but I'll be able to play with that later). I reduced the height of the back of the neck. I'm also going to add some seam allowances on some of the edges to give it a little more play.

The next step will be to make a test garment in muslin before I finalise my pattern. That will also allow me to make pattern pieces for the other bits of the waistcoat that aren't in the initial draft: the collar, the facings, the lining, the canvas, and the pockets and pocket welts.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Day Trousers: Part 1 (the draft)


I just started sewing in earnest about two years ago. I've never been afraid of sewing, but I dove into it for my wedding, and by following the directions that came with the various patterns I used I was able to make not only shirts and trousers for myself, but also a frock coat for myself, and my wife's wedding ensemble, including a Victorian riding jacket with boning. I'll tell you, her jacket came out a lot better than my frock coat, but I'd made mine first and learned a lot.

That's just to say that I'm pretty much not afraid of any pattern I can get my hands on. I'm good at reading and following directions, and I have a good spacial sense so I can envision how fabric will end up after being turned inside out and backwards (like collars and welt pockets). The next step is to learn to draft my own patterns. That way I can make anything, and I'll know it will fit!

With that goal in mind I found a book that could have been written just for me: The Victorian Tailor: An Introduction to Period Tailoring, by Jason Maclochlainn. It walks you through the changes in fashion through the various decades of Queen Victoria's reign, details fabrics which were used in making the clothing, teaches you the tools of the time and how to sew various stitches necessary to make the clothes, and then finally tells how to measure and scale your measurements, and how to draft a variety of styles of trousers, waistcoats and coats.

Well. I followed the directions for drafting a general style of trousers (this one isn't given a place in time or style, but there are other patterns for trousers including 1850 pants, shooting breeches, 1868 dress pants, 1870s American pants, 1870s morning pants, and an entire lounge suit). However, the directions for drafting the pattern don't include how to draft a fly or the fly button catch, and of all of the trousers I just listed, only the lounge suit includes those pieces in its pattern. I guess I'll have to use that as a base for these trousers. Also, even though I said above I have good spacial sense, I got a little lost toward the end of drafting my pattern. Apparently the book was supposed to be twice as long, and the publisher had it edited down to its present size, which could account for why some of the directions are extremely detailed, and why other bits aren't there at all. Certainly I can figure out on my own how to make a fly covering, especially as there are details on the fly lining.

Having said all that, here are pictures of my draft. I basted them together, and they seem to fit fine, despite my kind of mangling the seat portion of the rear pattern.