The Spring Suit: Muslin 1 and Why It's Good to be Short

Today is muslin fitting 1. Tabula rasa, as it were, for this season's tailoring project. To prep for this, I've cut the muslin fabric and carefully marked it up with just about every conceivable line. 

Yeah, this was as painful as it looks - and I haven't even sewn the fucking thing.

I even added additional lines, which will facilitate reflecting alterations from the muslin to the paper pattern: a horizontal balance line (HBL) above the bust, an HBL above the waist and the 5/8" stitching line. S and I are using, among other methods, the Sarah Veblen "fitting axis" approach. The idea is to ensure that the HBLs, drawn onto the fabric before sewing, are rendered perfectly level during the fitting process (whatever alterations are required to obtain the fit). The lines highlight drag or pull (which can occur for any number of reasons and which, therefore, must be carefully considered before applying a correction).

If I sound psyched about this, it's only the hummingbird-like frequency of my anxiety taking centre-stage. I'm afraid, even as I'm excited by the process. What if this pattern treats me like the last one? I mean, I know I'm working with a design that's tried and true and written by an expert. Frankly, merely if the notches align, I'll be 100 per cent ahead of the game over last time. But I know I'm multi-sized in a fitted, tailored jacket. I mean, seriously, body-types such as mine are the reason that knits were invented! (Look, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

In the construction of the last jacket, you might recall we needed to shorten the waist, increase the full bust AND decrease the upper bust (you heard it right - I had to do an FBA and an SBA in the same freakin' five-inch zone), plus adjust the sleeve to account for shoulders that rotate forward slightly. And those were simply the big ticket alterations!

And never mind me - this time I've got someone else's body to consider! I mean, people, it's not like I've got a degree in fashion design!

This is as good a time as any to touch on the concept that becomes ever-more apparent with each passing project - and especially as I learn more about my tall sewist friends. I am 5'3" with a curvy frame. By that I mean my breasts take up a lot of circumference (relatively) but my shoulders and my waist are narrow. Effectively, I'm a short and narrow person and my shortness is all in my torso (but I'm not that tall so my proportionately-long legs are still not tall). 

S is a tall, very slender, person. She's 5'8" with a straight frame. By that I mean she is willowy, but with width in her upper back. She is also long in the torso. And she has net long legs given that she's reasonably tall.

Guess who needs more fabric to make a suit? Um, that would be the exceedingly slender one. 

Generally, I can get away with removing at least 3/4 of a yard of fabric from a suit pattern: jacket and associated bottom (either pants or skirt). We measured my neck-nape to waist and, seriously, it's so short, it's not even on the Vogue chart (13.5 inches). Think about it: When you cut fabric, you generally have enough width - especially if the bolt is 60 inches wide - to cut far more widely than you need to. Hence, all of those crazy selvedge-side scraps. My boobs are the beneficiary of that! On the flip side, what are you most concerned about, tall ladies? Not having enough length for that hip-length jacket or that pair of pants! Sorry, tall girlz. Those pants just kill the budget with the extra yardage you require.

Where's the justice in that? Well, technically, you have height so I find it hard to feel bad for you. But next time you're feeling sorry for me, just remember I save the cost of a sweet little shirt with every suit. Now if only I could figure out how to fit it.