The subject drew an impassioned response from a very engaged craft-force. Even I, a new sewist who was even newer then, had a strong perspective, that being: hell can freeze over I'm not freakin' tracing my patterns. That's what the lines and scissors are for!
Well, friends, in
Why? (you may ask...)
Well, I wrecked a pattern.
It was just one - it was after extensive bust alterations - but that was enough. Hours of my life were gone with no recourse. I mean, my recourse is to re-purchase the pattern. Like I'm going to do that before it goes on sale again.
Yes, I realize making massive changes (when one doesn't know what she's doing) on a flimsy piece of tissue is perhaps ill-advised. But if it had worked, I can assure you we wouldn't be having this conversation. I mean diatribe.
Moreover, now that I'm working on the Built By Wendy Dresses book, the forced habit is coming in handy. You have to trace those base patterns (slopers) and their numerous, self-chosen seam allowances, or you can't remake them in their variations.
I don't trace because it is the eco-conscious, archive-friendly, decent thing to do. I do it because the alternative is, potentially, a deal breaker.
Call me principled.