Internets, let me tell you a sad story. A story of woe. A story of despair. A story without a happy ending. It's also kinda long.
Once upon a time, I decided to make a pair of pants. They were going to be very nice pants (or trousers, if you prefer.) I bought some lovely dark blue linen/rayon that had a nice hand, didn't wrinkle too much, very comfortable-feeling. Did all my prep work: prewashed the fabric, made a muslin.
Oh, that was really where it started. The Muslin Disaster. Now Simplicity provided some measurements so that one could choose which fit they might fit best-provided with the options of "slim", "average", and "curvy". As someone with a long torso, most of it between my waist and hip, my measurements (I think they asked for crotch length and depth, measured from the waist) were not anywhere on their chart. I chalked this up to the aforementioned proportions and chose the "average" fit, and sewed up a muslin. I had my handy "Pants for Real People" to guide me through the fitting process.
Oh, there were tears then. The muslin fit horribly. Awfully. It was too tight in some places and far too loose in others. It ws completely wrong. I made changes. Many, many changes... and I cursed my book and Simplicity and myself and the muslin for not working. I was never, ever going to have pants that fit me. That was a dark moment, the first of many. Actually it was many moments... I had to take long breaks in between alterations, because of the despair of them NEVER WORKING.
In frustration I emailed Simplicity, because apparently you can do that when you have problems with their patterns. The person I spoke to asked me for some measurements and helpfully suggested I try the "curvy" fit. I have never considered myself "curvy" (pear-shaped, yes; curvy, no) but I was willing to try anything. So I cut another muslin. It was a miracle. It fit almost perfectly. I made a few adjustments to the inseam. I started cutting my fabric. It was going to be brilliant.
I started assembling. Knowing I wanted these pants to be awesome, I had practiced putting in a fly on my first muslin. (I used the
HotPatterns fly front tutorial, and I recommend it.) Zipper went in fine. My next mistake was to trim the top of the zipper, and not sew in some stops. It wasn't an issue until...
I somehow snipped a hole in the right front, right near the crotch. Time to panic. Time to completely freak out. I went to the internet; maybe I could fix it somehow. I bought fabric glue. I tested it. I glued a patch behind the hole. It was really, really obvious. I had some extra fabric-I'd been hoping to get a pair of shorts out of the yardage, but I cut a new right front instead. Managed to pick out the ruined right front and put in the new one, even with the fly already sewn in.
Then I pulled the zipper tab off. I was beginning to wonder if these pants wanted me to develop a drinking problem.
After several choice words and some tricky finagling, I got the zipper tab back on, and immediately sewed on stops at the end of the tapes. It would be okay. I could still pull this off. I continued construction.
I made pockets that failed. They were too small, placed badly. The pattern does not include pockets, by the way. I gave up on pockets. There's only so much you can fight a damn pair of pants.
I thought about including the belt carriers I was originally going to leave off. I need somewhere to put my hands, whether it's pockets or belt loops. I stalled. Then I got a job and didn't have time to sew for almost a month. I decided that the pants were not worth stalling forever. I decided to move forward without the belt loops. Might as well finish the pants and move on.
I started to sew on the waistband and realized some of the seams hadn't been finished. Linen can be really fray-ey so I wanted to overlock them. One outseam, fine. One inseam, fine. And then I realized I'd accidentally sewn some of the seam allowance to some of the main fabric. Guess where? Yep, the right front crotch. I didn't think it was a problem... until I picked it out.
Two neatly-cut lines. And as I'd already discovered, impossible to fix. No more fabric.
And that, as they say, was that. There was nothing else to be done. The pants won.
I'm kinda sad, I admit. I liked the fabric, I liked the (eventual) fit, they were going to be comfy and roomy and stylish. But you can't fight these things forever. If I had my heart forever set on these, I'm sure the fabric shop has more. But for now I'm just going to leave them be. I don't need to tempt fate anymore.
I thought people were exaggerating when they said sewing pants was difficult, but damn.
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