Top N of 2025

Time for the review of the year. This year I only made nine completed garments for me, and two bags. There was also a costume, an apron, and a couple of zipped pouches for my son. But despite the low rate of production I think this was a successful year. I didn’t have any massive fails, possibly for the first time ever – the first time I can remember anyway. But I always like to do a list of hits and misses, so here we go.

My favourite projects of the year are my silver mac and 80s trousers.

The silver mac makes anything into an Outfit, and it performs its primary duty of keeping the rain out adequately too. Worth all the pain of sewing with the awful fabric. I hope it lasts a good long time.

These Montana trousers from a pattern published in 1984 were worn on repeat all summer, and work with long boots for cooler weather. They are a very 80s style with a high waist and a lot of pleats. Despite this apparent datedness (is that a word? Autocorrect thinks not) they go with pretty much every top in my wardrobe. I love them so much I have repaired them more than once; my inability to sew buttons on in such a way that they stay in place is a real liability for this style.

Least successful: my yellow Factotum bag. The pattern is fine, and I loved the finished object, but the fabric showed the dirt very quickly and because the leather strap can’t be removed it’s difficult to clean it. And then I got a huge sticky stain on it that I haven’t been able to get out at all. I’m not even sure what it was now; possibly ice cream or juice. The grey oilskin version I made of the same pattern is much more practical and has been used a lot. And it has a detachable strap.

The yellow bag when it was new. Sadly it is not this colour any more.

My goal for this year was to make outfits rather than wardrobe orphans, and on the whole I succeeded. I made a whole suit, and have worn it few times, although I wear the suit trousers on their own much more. The full suit tends to get a positive but puzzled reaction, as my workplace is very casual. But it’s been enough of a success that I’d consider making another in future.

The separates I made all go with at least one thing I already own. The two most awkward to style are a 1980s Montana jacket and a printed silk blouse.

The jacket is very cropped so looks odd if there’s any visual break in the outfit at the waist level because it gives the effect of a second waistline; in practice this means it only works over jumpsuits, dresses, or completely monochrome combinations. Or indeed the trousers above, which are so high waisted the jacket hem falls over the trouser waist as seen below:

The jacket and trousers are both from the same vintage Vogue pattern so it’s not surprising they work together, but I don’t have a lot of other options for pairing with the jacket. It is usually too warm when combined with a jumpsuit, I generally don’t wear dresses, and most of my trousers aren’t quite high waisted enough. It’s very frustrating because I love the shape of it.

I also need to add some poppers to the closure because it tends to gape. I have even acquired a card of suitable ones, just need to sew them on. Or maybe I need to make it again in a different fabric; I don’t think being made from denim is helping with the styling conundrum.

The printed blouse is a bit delicate and fussy and so I haven’t put much effort into styling it; I should try harder with that because the print is fabulous. And the fabric is surprisingly warm, so much so that it’s wearable on a mild winter day over a vest, which I didn’t expect. After starting to write this post I was inspired to wear it to work one day with my black wide legged trousers which was a success…so there’s hope for this one.

Aiming to sew outfits worked well, so I’m going to try to continue with that next year. I also very much enjoyed sewing the 80s vintage Vogue pattern for the trousers and jacket because it had so many interesting small details. I’ve been slowly collecting vintage Montana patterns from eBay and I would like to sew up more of them next year. There’s one that particularly speaks to me at the moment, Vogue 1492 from 1984, which has three garments: a voluminous shirt, a straight pleated wrap skirt, and high waisted trousers with a shaped waist and interestingly shaped welt pockets. It’s not really obvious on the picture but the pockets are wedge shaped.

Vintage Vogue 1492 from 1984 pattern envelope

I remember that skirt shape being the absolute height of fashion when I was at school (at least it was amongst my tweenage peers in the mid 80s…I don’t remember what the adults were wearing). The goal was to have the longest and straightest skirt, paired with long slouchy socks which were artistically arranged in folds around the ankles. As soon as I saw this pattern I was reminded of my very favourite skirt from that time.

Given I’ve had quite a lot of success with Montana patterns I’d like to make all three pieces from this one as a mini wardrobe. I’ve already started on the shirt, which is the least risky of the three. Whether I actually get to the skirt and trousers and how wearable the skirt really is remains to be seen. I admit I am a little dubious about the wrap closure.

Apart from the Montana pattern I want to make some very practical things: a bag for work, because I’ve completely failed to find a suitable replacement for my disintegrating laptop bag in the shops, and a pair of jeans. These should be achievable as I already have suitable patterns for both, I just need to find fabric.

Here’s to 2026!

An apron from scraps

I made this a while ago but it never made it onto the blog. I have a collection of denim leftovers from garments I’ve made over the last few years, none of them big enough to make any sort of adult sized wearable garment, but too big to throw away. I hadn’t managed to do anything with any of them until earlier this year when my son needed a painting apron for art class. Enter the offcuts of my grey Blanca jumpsuit.

I have an adult sized apron for cooking that works well, so I took a few measurements from that and drew out a scaled down version of the shape on paper and added hem allowances on the edges. The allowance on the top edge I made much deeper than the rest, as it was on the original apron. Not sure why it’s designed that way; maybe it makes it hang better?

The apron is constructed by basting the ties to the raw edges then turning the edges under twice and topstitching, catching the ties in the stitching. Very quick and easy. The top edge has two rows of top stitching.

The fabric scrap wasn’t quite big enough so it ended up cut on the cross grain. It’s 100% cotton denim and very stable,

One unexpected problem was that the proportionally scaled down neck strap turned out be too small to easily get a head through, so I had to make it longer. Although at least I thought to check the length on the recipient before sewing it all down firmly. The longer strap means the top of the apron is a bit lower on the body than I’d like. I considered making the neck strap adjustable, but decided it was too much faff for a child to adjust.

I added the astronaut patch because it had been knocking about in my sewing box for ages and my son liked it. He also picked the rainbow tape.

I put d-rings on one of the waist ties to make those adjustable to a degree, but I also made them long enough to tie in a bow.

I was quite pleased with this when it was finished. But it’s been living at the bottom of my son’s school bag ever since and I don’t think it’s been worn even once as it’s still suspiciously spotless. Anyway, it’s one less scrap in the stash. We will not talk about the fact that I now have half a roll of leftover rainbow apron tape to find some sort of use for.

Ready for winter: vintage Vogue 1253 coat finished

I have finally finished my winter coat. This is vintage Vogue 1253 by State of Claude Montana from 1993. Boringly I made it up in pretty much the same practical colour as the sample, just with silver buttons and trim instead of gold. A winter coat needs to go with everything. I’ve completely failed to find any other contemporary images of the style so the pattern envelope is all I’ve got to go on for the original look. It’s a striking image, but lacking in detail. According the pattern the top collar of the coat is made in synthetic leather, but I can’t tell. Mine is made from the same fabric as the shell.

Here’s the back view. All my photos had to be considerably lightened because it was chucking it down with rain on the one day we had a chance to take pictures, so we had to do indoor photos. But anyway there’s not much to see on the back except the vent, which ends high enough that I could probably sit on a horse in this without it rucking up. And the creases, which are the result of sitting not on a horse but on a bus. The coat has been worn to work a lot lately, because winter has arrived in the UK.

The shell fabric is a dark navy wool twill from Croft Mill. It’s almost black, so much so that my navy thread looked far too light against it, and I ended up using black. The fabric is very thick and heavy, probably a little too heavy for the style. It’s ok to wear but sewing it was a challenge. I had aching hands after sewing the collar and facings on.

The lining is a sort of greenish brownish grey with a tiny triangle pattern. The colour was described as ‘olive’ and I think it was intended for waistcoat backs. It was originally bought to line an entirely different coat project that never saw the light of day. It went well enough with the shell fabric that I didn’t need to go out and buy something new, and it all helps with the stash reduction. What you see here is actually the wrong side of the lining fabric, which is duller and more grey than the right side. I wish I could say that using the wrong side was the result of careful planning. It is true I did originally think about using the wrong side because it was a slightly better colour match for my trim, but then I decided that would be confusing and who sees the lining anyway, let alone compares it to the trim, and resolved to use the right side. But the pieces for the back lining are cut as a pair and then one is trimmed back to make the asymmetrical vent opening, and of course I went and trimmed the wrong one. I didn’t have any more of the lining fabric so at that point it was use the wrong side or buy new lining fabric.

I didn’t make a lot of fitting adjustments: just adding my usual length increases (5cm between bust and waist, 5cm on skirt, 5cm on sleeves). I sort of regret the additional 5cm on the skirt because although it looks good it means I have to be ever so slightly careful with steps when wearing flat shoes. I don’t think my version is any longer on me than the model’s is on her though. Size wise this is my usual Vogue size, which is to go one down from whatever the size chart says, but this style is so roomy that I could easily have gone down more.

I made quite a few small pattern adjustments to make the sewing easier. My guide for this as always is Pattern Scissors Cloth’s RTW Tailoring Sewalong, which I can’t recommend enough. Sheryll goes through where to add ease and turn-of-cloth allowance to the pattern pieces to make things sit nicely, and how to cut the lining for bagging out by machine. I followed her advice about taping the roll line and sewing the facings in such a way to make the lapels behave themselves and it all worked very well.

She also has a clever method for sewing the facing/hem/lining junction, which I’ve used successfully in the past, but this time I went with a different method I got from Kathleen Fasanella. The series of blog posts that explains it has long ago succumbed to link rot and all the images are missing, which is a shame. The difference between the two is that with the Pattern Scissors Cloth method the lining ends up caught down as far as the hem at the facing/hem junction point, and with the other method it ends a bit further up and you can see the join between the hem and the facing. The first is much simpler and faster to sew, but I think the second looks slightly nicer because the lining edge ends up parallel to the hem edge all the way round instead of dipping down at the junction. Based on the second method I managed to put the lining in entirely by machine, including around the vent, which I normally chicken out and hand sew. I did catch stitch the hem by hand though as I doubted it would stay up if only tacked at the seam allowances.

I also added a coat chain. I find they’re essential in a heavy coat and I don’t know why patterns don’t ever include them. I always write a note on the pattern instructions for sewing the facings to remind myself to do it.

Here’s me trying to do the other view from the pattern envelope, with the collar up and the left lapel unfolded. I think the collar looks quite good this way and it’s warm. I might put a hook and eye in to catch that lapel in place for wearing on windy days.

The pockets were the cause of much agonising (see previous posts, I won’t repeat it here), but now they’re done I can forget about them. They’re roomy and at the right height. Can’t ask for much more.

I’m very glad to have this finished at last and delighted with how it came out. Thanks to my husband for the photos.

Coat progress

Well it’s been a few weeks and I’ve been working hard (by my standards) on my coat project, but until two days ago no actual sewing had taken place. Pattern alterations; three rounds of cutting out (shell fabric, lining fabric, interfacing); fusing all that interfacing on – which took literally hours – have taken up the time. I’m making vintage Vogue 1253 from the 1990s, and it is huge.

I had a last minute change of heart about pockets. The original design has angled double welt pockets with a purely decorative pocket flap applied below the pocket and stitched down around the edges. It has a button sewn on to add some extra detail. I didn’t mind the fake flap but wasn’t sold on the shape of it, which is an ornate double curve that didn’t seem to go with the simple design of the rest of the coat. I was going to replace the original flaps with a parallelogram shape with rounded corners. Then Brewerbarbara commented on my last post that the original pocket flap shape is likely a military reference, which is in keeping with the rest of the design. And I went to an exhibition of 20th century British menswear where I noticed double curved pocket flaps on the military uniform. So I decided to go with the original style after all but make a sample in my fashion fabric, as the fancy flap had proved somewhat tricky to sew in my calico toile.

The sample was distinctly unpromising, below. This is after much resewing and pressing, and it’s still distinctly lumpy and uneven. But if I switched to the other style I’d need to make yet another sample, and at those point I’d been working on this project for several weeks already with nothing to show but a pile of fabric pieces.

So with much misgiving I forged ahead, marking and sewing extra carefully. This is one of the actual pockets, and it’s better than the sample but it still won’t win any prizes. Luckily the fabric is a very dark navy; much more so than it appears on the picture below. Once the coat is made up and the button attached I will probably stop noticing the flaws.

The other thing that has been taking longer than anticipated is finding suitable trim for the sleeves. I want it to look military-inspired rather than like cosplay. Hours of scrolling the VV Rouleaux website followed, but nothing seemed quite right. I then found some blue and grey striped grosgrain ribbons on eBay which seemed promising in photos, but when they arrived the colours were lighter than I’d expected (seen here with the buttons I’m using, which came from stash and are the only part of this project that hasn’t involved tremendous analysis paralysis).

There was another colourway of the striped grosgrain available with reddish brown, pink, and grey stripes (second from left). Better but not perfect. Nothing else I found online even came close. My local John Lewis had nothing suitable in stock. And then I happened to be in Ely, which has a small haberdashers, and they had a dark grey grosgrain with a satin stripe (second from right).

This was the first one I’d seen that made me go ‘yes’. It’s double sided so could be used with the satin either in the centre (left) or at the edges. I’m thinking satin at the edges.

I may actually sew a construction seam or two next week. Watch this space.

Vintage Vogue 1253 coat toile

This pattern is the top contender for my winter coat, vintage Vogue 1253 by State of Claude Montana from 1993. The envelope photo is very appealing while managing to obscure almost all the important details at the same time: top fashion photography there, Vogue. But as the line art below shows, it’s a very simple A line style with raglan sleeves. The pockets are curious. The fancy pocket flaps are just for decoration as they’re attached below the actual pocket opening and are top-stitched to the coat body all the way round. The pocket itself is a standard double welt pocket.

I have made a toile, as there’s no way I’d risk making anything based on that photo alone. This one is my usual ‘one size below what the size chart says’ for Vogue, with my usual adjustments of 5cm added to the body and 3cm to the sleeves. Now I see the photos I don’t think I needed anything extra on the sleeves at all, but I’m toying with adding more to the skirt length as I preferred the look before I hemmed it. Funnily enough it looks longer in photos than it did in the mirror. But given Vogue drafts for a height 10cm shorter than me, I can easily justify adding even more length.

The collar seems to be sitting much flatter on me than it does on the model but maybe that’s the fabric. The original collar is done in leather. It’s a sophisticated draft; there’s a separate collar band piece which makes it roll into place very easily, and it’s drafted with separate top and under collar pieces with a generous allowance for turn of cloth.

It could do with shoulder pads, but I didn’t have any to hand. But I think some of those drag lines on the back are just where the fairly lightweight calico has caught on my back.

I’m slightly dubious about the pocket flap shape. Below is the shape as the pattern has it; I’m not super keen on the curved, pointed flap which to me seems at odds with the rest of the design; more Western style than military. Also it was tricky to topstitch.

Here’s an alternative flap shape pinned on in paper.

Still undecided as to which to go with. If I do make this it’ll be in a dark navy wool twill coating I have, so they’ll probably be mostly invisible anyway. And then there’s the colour of ribbon for the sleeves and the buttons to decide on.

Winter coat planning

Summer is over in the UK and my silver quilted winter coat from 2020 is showing definite signs of age. There’s a tear near one of the side seams (curse those brambles in the park) and the batting is losing its loft. If I start now I should be able to make a replacement before the really cold weather starts. So, what sort of coat to make?

I’ve been seeing plenty of very long styles in the fashion press, which are right up my street: I love the drama of an ankle length coat. There was also a brief vogue for scarf coats last winter: double drama! And there have been straight cut menswear inspired styles about over the last few years too, although I think those are now on their way out. Not that I mind that. The important thing is that I like the silhouette and patterns for it are available.

I’ve known since the end of last winter that I’d have to make a new coat for 2025, so I’ve been making a note of potential patterns for quite a few months. Here are the current contenders.

Vintage Vogue 1487 by Blassport Ltd from 1984. Very 80s: long and boxy with big shoulders. I love the shape but I am not sure it’s practical as the neckline on the white version looks a bit deep for cold days. Also looks to be for lightweight coatings, so maybe not the warmest.

Vintage Vogue 1253 by State of Claude Montana, from 1993. I love the model photo here but at the same time it’s one of the least helpful envelope covers I’ve ever seen: can you see any of the details in that sea of black? It’s a double breasted maxi coat with no waist definition, a wide skirt and sleeves, big lapels, and vaguely military details. No doubt beautifully cut as it’s Montana.

Vogue 2055 scarf trench, currently in print. Lots and lots of crunchy trench coat details here, and the scarf option has a dramatic front wrap overlay. A heck of a lot of work, huge fabric requirements, and possibly not warm enough for a proper winter. But fabulous nonetheless.

Burda 2011-10-107. An oldie that’s a permanent entry on my ‘potential coats’ list; yet I never seem to get around to actually making it. Another wide skirted maxi coat, but with much skinnier sleeves than the Montana. I have a doubt about whether I could fit a thick jumper under them. It has waist definition which might be dated but is glamorous. Patch pockets, which I don’t love for winter.

Burda 2017-10-120. This was a magazine exclusive and another one that lives on my to-sew list and never reaches the top. Ticks the ‘straight cut menswear style’ box but with a genuine twist in the colour blocking. Another rather deep neckline. Possibly not achievable in time for this winter, given the need to find three compatible coatings in suitable colours – and can you imagine the tracing and cutting involved?

Burda Style 2017-10-120 model photo, burdastyle.ua

Burda 2024-01-110 . Beautifully simple, which always appeals, but lacks the drama of the longer coats. Hard to see in this picture but it tapers towards the hem. Burda drafting is solid and SewingElle made a shortened version which looked great.

Burda 2024-01-110 model photo, burdastyle.com

At the moment I’m leaning towards the Montana, with the green Burda as second choice. I suspect with the Montana I might be being influenced by the photography and styling rather than the actual pattern. I’ve traced it and am making a toile; we’ll see what it looks like in calico.

Silver mac: Burda 121-01-2025

I never thought I’d find myself sewing waterproofs. But I really struggle to find ones I like in the shops. Last year I tried to solve the problem by making The Assembly Line’s Hoodie Poncho in grey rip-stop nylon and looks-wise it was perfect, but I got fed up of showering everything around me with water when I take it off after coming indoors. I need something that doesn’t have to be pulled off over the head. And if I had to make another waterproof, why not scratch my futuristic clothing itch by using the sort of fabric the crew of the Liberator would wear to explore an alien planet?

Tracking down silver waterproof fabric was more difficult than I expected. I eventually found a few options at Pro Fabrics. After getting some samples I ordered their 2oz nylon with a silver coating. I don’t think this is intended to be apparel fabric – it’s certainly not breathable. But it was waterproof, the right weight and colour, and pretty good value too.

The pattern is Burda 121-01-2025, which in the magazine was made up in a lightweight waterproof fabric so clearly seemed intended for this sort of garment.

Burda 121 01/2025 line art, burdastyle.de

I’m a little dubious about some of the design choices in this pattern. I’d have thought when making a raincoat it would be best to avoid unnecessary seams. But there is a long centre back seam which has no shaping at all, so the back could just have well been cut on the fold. And there are also shoulder darts, meaning you’re puncturing the fabric with a needle just where the rain is going to hit. I painted a good coating of something called Stormsure Seam Sealer over the seams and darts on the inside after I’d finished sewing, to try to avoid leaks. Another surprising thing is that the pattern calls for quite a bit of interfacing. This fabric hates being ironed and I suspect most raincoat fabrics are the same so interfacing is difficult. I got it attached in the end but I wish I hadn’t bothered as every interfaced piece became very curly. I tried to flatten them by pressing again and then putting something heavy on top while the piece cooled down, but it didn’t make much difference.

The hood is a good size but it could do with a drawstring. I suspect it isn’t going to stay put on a windy day.

There are side seam pockets, which unfortunately wound up placed too low when I added my usual length addition to the upper body – entirely my own fault for forgetting to adjust the position.

The sleeve hems are gathered with elastic, and the closure is done with poppers. The size for the poppers wasn’t stated in the pattern but 12mm seems about right. There is a substantial overlap at centre front which is good. And all the seams are pressed to one side (or finger-pressed in my case as I wasn’t risking an iron near the fabric again after the interfacing debacle) and double top-stitched which will hopefully also help keep the wet out.

Unlike the hood the main hem does have a drawstring. It comes out through eyelets installed on the front facing, ie inside the coat, which surprised me a bit. I didn’t have any cord end pieces and didn’t want to just tie a knot in the dangling ends of my elastic cord, so I doubled it up, knotted it into a loop, and hid the knot inside the hem casing. I then failed to buy the correct type of cord adjusters for use with a looped cord. I’ll have to go back and replace them at some point or add a bead so they don’t slide off the ends.

I think my drawstring ended up shorter than the pattern instructions said to use. If you look up the model photo on Burda’s website theirs is almost hitting the floor. I prefer mine.

The fabric was an absolute pain in the neck to sew. The coated side sticks to the presser foot and to itself and like most coated fabrics, unpicking it leaves permanent needle marks. After I cut the pattern pieces, which I did in the normal way on a double layer right sides together, I had serious trouble separating the pairs. When I top-stitched, the fabric dragged and puckered. I tried a roller foot, a Teflon foot, and a walking foot at different points during this project. Despite all this extra help I still had to rip out and redo around the neck facing and the curved edges of the hood, more than once in some spots. The neck facing installation is still comically awful, but it’s functional and no one’s going to see it but me. There are more than a few major puckers on externally visible seams too though. I did not even attempt to turn under or neaten any edges, even around the facing edges and hems. This fabric’s one amiable quality is that it does not fray at all.

While it’s not well-sewn at all, I’m pretty happy with the end result. It clearly wouldn’t be adequate for anyone seriously outdoorsy, but for wearing to keep the rain off on short walks it’s fine and I love the colour.

Thanks to my husband for taking the pictures.

Phen shirt in silk print

This is my second version of the Phen shirt from Pattern Fantastique, and this fabric is the reason I bought the pattern in the first place. It’s a silk/cotton blend with an amazing print that reminds me of the work of Paolozzi – better picture below. I bought it on a (rather expensive) impulse from Croft Mill last year and had been looking for a suitable pattern ever since. It’s very lightweight and drapey, so needed to be made into something loose fitting, and I didn’t have enough for a dress. A big shirt seemed like the perfect option.

Here’s the pattern art. I’d already made a trial run in grey viscose which was a great success as a garment but a frustrating sew. This time I ignored the pattern instructions and followed the methods in David Coffin’s shirt making book and things went much more smoothly.

Phen shirt by Pattern Fantastique artwork, patternfantastique.com

I gave a lot of consideration to ways to tame the fabric while sewing. I’ve used gelatine to stabilise silk before with some success, but I was concerned about then not being able to apply iron-on interfacing, so that option was out. Yes I could have used silk organza as sew-in interfacing…but it’s not so easy to come by around here, and I was a bit dubious about catching sew-in interfacing in the seams given the very small seam allowances on the interfaced pieces: 6mm on curved edges. In the end I settled for block fusing Vilene H180 to a chunk of the fabric and then cutting the pieces that needed interfacing out of that with a rotary cutter. Highly recommended: the cutting was much more accurate that way and the pieces behaved a lot better than ones on the grey version where I fused after cutting.

I matched the pattern across the centre front, but it was impossible to match at the yoke seam because of the pleat. I didn’t even try anywhere else as it’s such a busy print I don’t think it matters much. The buttons are plain black corozo from Textile Garden.

Here’s the unmatched yoke seam close up. As you can probably see it was difficult fabric to get a good stitch quality on, despite using a blue tip needle. Oh dear that top stitching is wobbly.

I made the plain cuffs and collar this time around. Originally I thought I wouldn’t have enough fabric for the tie versions but after laying it all out I suspect I could have done it. However the tie version might have been too fussy in a print.

I didn’t cut the buttonhole on the collar band open as I’ll never wear this done right up. The collar was a little surprising: the pattern piece outer edge is actually shorter than the neckline edge. I checked the notches very carefully before sewing that in as it looks like it’s going in upside down.

Back view. The hem looks all right here, a surprise considering how difficult I found it to do a narrow hem on this fabric.

Sad to say, despite the gorgeous fabric something about this version feels slightly off to me. The grey wearable toile version I made first is much better. It could be the scale of the print: I can carry off a very bold print but smaller scale ones are a bit fussy on me. Or maybe it’s the styling; I’m wearing it with my vintage Vogue 1476 Issey Miyake trousers with the huge pockets and pleats here. Something much slimmer might let the shirt shine. Having said that, I wore it for remote work the other day and people on video calls noticed it, in a good way. And the fabric feels lovely to wear. So even if I can’t figure out the right bottom half it may still be a good choice for WFH days.

I shall experiment a bit, but bright ideas on the styling would be very welcome! Thanks to my husband for taking the pictures.

Phen shirt in grey viscose

This grey viscose shirt has become a very surprising wardrobe staple. The fabric was a bad Internet purchase that I thought I’d never find a use for, and the pattern has more than one issue. And yet it works, so much so that I’ve lost count of the times I wore it before we got around to taking photos.

How did this come about? Well, I saw PoppyKettle’s very stylish version of the Phen shirt from Pattern Fantastique, and rarely have I swooped on a pattern so fast. I’d been looking for a worthy pattern for some very special but fragile Italian printed silk (not appearing in this post), and a big bold shirt seemed like the perfect option. Here’s the envelope picture, which really shows the oversized shape. But do go and look up people’s makes too, because I don’t think I’ve seen a bad version of this one.

I bought the PDF, got it printed by the Fold Line right away and was all ready to start. And then I thought I’d better make a toile for once, as the silk is probably the most expensive fabric I’ve ever bought and has long since sold out, so if I messed up there was no getting any more. Enter the unloved grey viscose. I originally bought it intending to make a jumpsuit but without getting a sample first. It proved much lighter weight and wrinkly than I expected and certainly not suitable for bottoms. I hadn’t found any other use for it and it had been languishing in my fabric box for nearly a year, so no regrets over using it for an experiment. I also had just enough shirt buttons in a mottled grey/black which went well with the fabric. Unfortunately I didn’t have any lightweight interfacing, so ended up using Vilene G405 which is definitely on the heavy side for this.

I decided to make the fancy tie collar and cuffs for this version but leave off the pockets; I didn’t intend to use them on the silk so didn’t need to test them. There is also a plain collar and cuff option, and you can make a band collar version by using just the collar band piece.

I made an effort to follow the pattern instructions carefully. The instructions have a lot of detail and include useful pro tips that Vogue and Burda never mention. One example is trimming a bit off the inside pieces of collars and cuffs before sewing to make them turn nicely and sit with the seams on the inside, but there are plenty of others. Normally I reorder steps as I see fit and swap in my preferred construction techniques, but I rarely sew with drapey fabrics and figured it would be safest to stick with the pattern this time as it seemed to have been written with a lot of care.

And yet despite this level of attention to detail I didn’t get on with the instructions at all. First of all they’re pretty wordy, which being used to Burda always throws me, and there’s a certain amount of looking ahead and behind required. And second I didn’t like the construction methods. For example the given order of construction for the yoke is to sew the shoulder seams first, top-stitch them, and then sew the back seam using the burrito method. And then you are told to topstitch the outer yoke to the seam allowances without catching the inner yoke by tunnelling between the very long narrow yoke pieces. I guess it’s possible to do this or they wouldn’t have written it, but I gave up after two failed attempts and stitched through all the layers instead. I cannot see the advantage of doing it the pattern’s way instead of joining the yoke back seam first, flipping the inner yoke out of the way, top stitching the outer, and then doing the burrito technique to join the shoulders. OK you are also supposed to top stitch the outer yoke to the shoulder seam allowances without catching the inner yoke there too, but you have a fraction of the length to deal with at the shoulders so it’s much easier to tunnel through at the shoulder seam.

I also think the instruction to trim the inside yoke piece is a bad idea. Maybe I overdid it, or it was a side effect of my topstitching fudge, but I ended up with the outside yoke being sufficiently bigger than the inside yoke that it drooped over the back joining seam. The drooping seems to have improved with washing and wearing though and is no longer visible.

One thing I did very much like about the instructions is the reminder to check your pattern pieces against the paper pattern after interfacing and stay stitching and trim them if they have distorted. Which they did; unsurprisingly when you cut out small curved pieces in a drapey fabric and then apply interfacing, things grow. I trimmed a lot off and vowed to block fuse the silk. And to use the construction guide in David Coffin’s shirtmaking book instead of following the pattern.

So much for the instructions; what about the drafting? I added my usual 5cm to the length of the body and 3cm to the sleeves, both typical adjustments for me. Otherwise I made the size the pattern recommended for my measurements, but this style is intentionally so very oversized that the exact choice doesn’t matter much. The balance seems a bit off as the shoulders tend to slide backwards on me, but that could be because the back hem length is much longer than the front, again by design. I’m also not totally convinced by the tie collar; it’s a bit too short to tie easily and it tends to creep up at the back despite being a proper shirt collar with a separate band piece. You can see both issues below, and I’d only just yanked it forward too.

And yet despite all that grumbling that I really do love the end result. It looks good both tucked and untucked, or with the front tucked and the back untucked. It’s very easy to wear but still looks like I’ve made an effort. The tie cuffs are a pain in the neck for doing washing up or housework but the sleeves look OK rolled up. The seam allowances are 1cm on the sleeves so french seams weren’t going to happen, but I had matching overlocker thread so it’s all fine.

Here I’m wearing it with my 80s jeans, but it works with every pair of trousers I own. Truly a wardrobe hero.

Thanks to my husband for taking the photos. Next time, the silk version.

80s jacket: vintage Vogue 1382

Sharp angles and shoulder pads – it doesn’t get much more 80s than this jacket. The pattern is vintage Vogue 1382 by Claude Montana, published in 1984.

The original version was made in a bright yellow fabric. Vogue’s envelope art usually shows a photo of the original garment, rather than a version made from their pattern, but the image is styled and shot by Vogue rather than the designer so the final effect can be very different from the runway styling. In this case Vogue’s styling is casual. There are some photos of the runway look on the Internet and there it was worn with a very wide glittery belt, long gloves, and a giant hat shaped like a seashell. Spectacular, but I don’t know where you’d dress like that even back then.

My version is made in a dark blue 6oz denim and I made the trousers from the pattern in the same fabric, which I posted about separately. This weight of fabric was fine for the jacket and almost too heavy for the trousers. The pattern recommends lightweight fabrics such as sheeting and poplin. I used buttons instead of snaps to modernise it, and topstitched in pale grey. There is a lot of geometric detail which would be invisible without contrast topstitching.

The back view is very plain. I’ve lengthened the pattern by my usual 5cm for tops, but it’s still very cropped. Other than that and adding to the sleeve length I haven’t adjusted the pattern. The shoulder pads give it a great shape. Mine aren’t as big as the pattern recommended – they’re about half the thickness – and I’ve made them removable.

As usual with Montana designs there are pockets but this time they are not useful ones. Here is the world’s shallowest pocket in action. It was a lot of fun to sew. It’s a parallelogram-shaped welt pocket where the welts and pocket bag are all folded out of one accordion-shaped piece of fabric. And it makes a lovely design detail. There’s a closeup of it in an earlier post.

And below another completely impractical pocket which can only be there as a design element. The instructions for this one were nonsense; topstitching the parallelogram shape isn’t done until the pocket is complete and the sleeve attached, which let me tell you makes it a major struggle because you’re sewing inside the pocket. I had to start and stop and rip bits out several times, so there are lots of knots and mess on the inside. And it would have been so easy to construct the pocket in my preferred way instead and do the topstitching on the flat before attaching the back pocket bag and the sleeve.

There’s also a good view here of the pointy cuffs, which are like knives. Not sure how well those are going to wear. Oddly the seam between the cuff and sleeve isn’t finished in any special way and because the cuffs are turned back it’s unusually visible. I overlocked mine but probably should have bound it. I bet the original was finished more nicely.

The sleeves are spectacular. The sleeve piece is so wide it has to be cut single layer even on standard “wide” 150cm fabric. I just about got away with cutting double because this denim is an unusual 160cm wide, and even then there’s selvage in the seam allowances under the arm. They don’t feel all that voluminous to wear as the deep pleat takes up the width.

I haven’t had much chance to wear this for real because of the recent hot weather, but I’m finding it needs either very high waisted bottoms or a top in a very similar colour to the bottoms underneath, otherwise the bit of contrasting top that shows looks odd. It would probably look good over a jumpsuit or dress. So it’s turned out less versatile than I’d hoped, but it’s not a wardrobe orphan. And I love the shape.

I didn’t remember to do the same pose as Vogue’s model but this one is closest.