sewing techniques Archives - Page 2 of 5

Pattern cutting tips

I’ll be helping someone sew a dress soon, and thought some information about cutting out patterns that I’ve gathered for that person would be of general usefulness. There are hows and whys and Opinions.

Patterns

The back of the pattern envelope will help you choose your fabric, as well as telling you what you need for fasteners, elastic, etc. Pay special attention to pattern envelopes that say “sized for stretch knits only.” That means the way the pattern is designed and sized, using non-stretchy fabric may produce a body cast. Note also that pattern sizes don’t match off the rack sizes. This may be less true for children and juniors, but for adults… I’m two sizes bigger in sewing patterns than in off the rack clothing. Measurements are provided to make sure you’re cutting the right size.

Cut apart the pattern pieces needed for the garment you’re making. This will in most cases be far from all of the pieces in the envelope. If there is a length variation given by pieces with two possible bottom lines, and you’re making the shorter version, if you think there is any chance you’ll ever want to make the longer version, then cut neatly along the dividing line, fold up the bottom portion of the longer version, and save it in the envelope. Otherwise, just cut somewhere near to and outside the cutting line; no need to be precise when you’ll be cutting again anyway.

If unfolding and running your hands over the pattern pieces doesn’t smooth them very well, you can iron them. My grandmother always did, with a dry iron at the wool setting.

Fabric Preparation

I always wash fabric for clothing prior to cutting it out (clearly I avoid dry clean only fabrics). That way if the fabric makes any changes in the wash, it’s happened ahead of time. I run a zigzag stitch along each cut edge first, to prevent fraying. The zigzag doesn’t have to be tight – I use the widest zigzag and often the longest stitch, though for something particularly fray-prone like satin I’d probably shorten the stitch. Depending on the fabric, you may need to iron it afterward, though with some fabrics if you remove them from the dryer promptly they are ready to go. Something I have learned recently is that pushing a steamy iron along fabric will stretch it, and so now I only use steam for persistent wrinkles, and when I do use steam I try to pick up and set the iron, maybe wiggling it a bit in place, rather than pushing it along.

A little vocabulary, in case it’s needed: perpendicular to the cut edges are finished edges. “Finished” doesn’t necessarily mean smooth – they may be a bit fuzzy – but does mean that the edge won’t ravel. The finished edge is called the selvedge, and its direction is called the straight grain (or sometimes just the grain) of the fabric. The direction from selvedge to selvedge (parallel, or parallel-ish, to the cut edges) is called the cross grain. Halfway between straight grain and cross grain, which is to say diagonally on the fabric, is called the bias. Some selvedges are shown in the picture to left.

The pattern instructions will show you layouts suitable for different width fabrics. Most of those will have the fabric folded in half, selvedge meeting selvedge, so you can cut two mirrored pieces at once. It is important that the fold line be smooth, and this will sometimes require the cut edges not be aligned. The picture to left shows the diagonal ripples that indicate the selvedges need to be slid a bit along each other; the ripples are caused by the cross grain being a bit twisted.

Laying Out

Again, the pattern instructions will show you options for laying out the pattern pieces. Some pieces may be laid out with one edge at the fold line (often the piece that crosses the center front of the garment). Others will be out in the middle of the fabric, but have a long line on them showing the direction of the straight grain of the fabric (pictured; depending on the brand it may or may not have arrowheads or a “grainline” label). The easiest way to get that line the right direction is with a ruler: make each end of it the same distance from the selvedges.

Why? Aside from making sure that, say, the sheen of the fabric is the same on each piece, the grainline marking has structural purpose. The straight grain of the fabric is the least stretchy direction. Most patterns have the grainline positioned so that the straight grain will be vertical in the finished clothing. This makes the vertical line of the clothing the most sag-resistant direction of the fabric. For patterns that use stretchy fabric, the grainline makes sure the stretch goes the correct direction. Some patterns, for swirly skirts for instance, will have the grainline pointing diagonally, so that the vertical (and horizontal, too) line of the clothing is on the bias. The bias is the most stretchy direction, and provides for a lot of mobility even in non-stretchy fabric.

Knowing this, you can figure out when it’s okay to violate the rules. If I’m cutting a boxer shorts pattern out of cotton flannel (read: not a lot of weight hanging, reasonably sturdy fabric, no stretch to worry about orienting), I let the grainline marking be with the straight or cross grain as necessary to fit the pattern on the fabric.

Pin your pattern pieces through both layers of fabric, with the pins parallel to and within the cutting line, making sure to get pins in each corner. How frequent your pins are depends on the fabric and the need for precision; for stable fabric every 5-6 inches might suffice, whereas for shifty light fabric, you might need them every 1-2 inches.

Cutting

There are numerous markings on patterns, and to me the ones essential in the cutting process are the triangles. These will later help you correctly line up pieces of varying shapes in order to sew them together. I was taught to cut the triangles outward, so as to avoid weakening the seam allowance, and that the most important thing to be accurate with is where the main cutting line meets the outside edges of the triangle(s). The height or shape of the triangles isn’t so important as long as you can match those corners (not every pattern mirrors the triangles on the outside of the cutting line like the one pictured does).

There are numerous other possible markings, including dots, and dashed-line triangles or diamonds indicating darts, but I haven’t found a good system for transferring them to the fabric and tend to just go back to the pattern while sewing and mark these (with sewing pins, typically) when I’m ready to use them. Generally, instructions say to transfer those with chalk or a fabric pen – the kind that fades or washes out.

There you have it: my approach to cutting out patterns. Keep the pattern envelope with its instructions and pattern pieces close at hand.

Alterations reminiscences

For two summers, full time before my senior year of college and half time after, I worked at an alterations shop. I learned a lot in general about clothing and construction and fitting, but there were a few specific things we did differently there than I’ve done in my sewing before and since. Every one of them improved efficiency in some way, but two are impractical now and two I simply don’t do any more. Let me tell you and you can see what you think.

Oh, and happy birthday to my mama!

1. Our sewing machines had two pedals: one knee and one foot. They were industrial machines that came this way, and I don’t know how easy it would be to retrofit a home sewing machine with such an apparatus, but one pedal lifted the presser foot and one ran the machine. To be honest I don’t remember which was which, but I assume the knee pedal ran the machine since that motion is much less fatiguing over the course of a day than working a foot pedal. Hands-free presser foot manipulation saves a lot of time over the course of a day.

2. We tenderized jeans. Hemming jeans even on an industrial machine presents its challenges, and we kept a mallet in the shop to flatten the seams before sewing. Nowadays I use a Jean-a-ma-jig (there’s a similar tool called a Hump Jumper), which works well, if slowly.

3. We used razor blades instead of seam rippers. They are WAY quicker. You want to make sure you have a sharp one so that it cuts threads without much pressure; that keeps you from accidentally slicing into the garment. Of course you have to use it in a particular way: by pulling the two pieces of fabric apart from each other and slicing the taut threads between. For removing, say, topstitching, a seam ripper is probably still better. You do end up with a lot of loose threads, but they may not matter if the fabric is to be trimmed, and otherwise you can try the lint roller trick (not something we did in the alteration shop. I honestly can’t remember how we dealt with threads).

4. My favorite trick and one I will implement if I ever have a sewing space suited to it (and use my iron enough to warrant it): we had our iron cord hooked up high. I can’t remember whether it was the ceiling or high on the wall, but we had an extension cord, and from the iron the cord went upward before going through a hook and heading back down to the outlet. The cord never gets in the way or hung up on anything, or crumples your fabric by dragging against it. It’s a simple, brilliant move.

Attribution: Razor blade picture by Zephyris via Wikimedia Commons. All others via Pixabay.

Swing tacks

What’s the little fiber bridge
that keeps your linings tame?
S-W I-N-G T-A-C-K-S

Okay, that was uncalled for. But swing tacks, also known as French tacks and thread bars, are pretty great. They are a connection between two pieces of fabric that keeps the fabric in general alignment while allowing some motion. You’ll almost always find them at the hem of lined pants, for example, so the lining can’t twist or bunch up. I used them recently for my wool peacoat (which you may recognize from its relining).

The center back hem of the lining needed a tack. I’d tacked it twice already, but it kept coming out because I was doing the shortcut: a finger-knit chain (which should be called finger-crocheted, since it is exactly a tightened crochet chain). The problem with that is it only stitches through each end once, unlike a thread bar. The pockets also needed tacks so they would stop coming out every time I pulled out my mittens.

How do you make a swing tack? Stitch back and forth between your two layers a couple of times – I usually have 3 or 4 crossings (here, three, with doubled thread) between them. That allows you a strong connection that’s not just through a single bit of fabric. Then make a buttonhole stitch down the threads to hold them together and give them a layer of protection against wear. Buttonhole on thread is actually a series of half hitch knots, and it goes surprisingly fast. In the image above, the half hitch is made but not tightened. It may be hard to tell what’s on top: where the thread crosses itself, the part closer to the needle is on top. Where the thread crosses the tack, the tack is on top at the upper crossing and the thread is on top at the lower crossing.

When you tighten the stitches they will be much closer together than is necessary to sufficiently cover the thread bar, so don’t despair if your stitching seems to be making no progress! Just spread them down the bar with your thumb and forefinger.

Pardon the blur. The added benefit of a properly-made swing tack is the buttonhole stitch wants to spiral around the threads, causing the whole works to coil up when it’s not being pulled on, and hiding completely under the fabrics.

Besides swing tacks, thread bars are used for invisible belt loops and for lingerie straps (where one end of the bar is inside a garment shoulder and the other attaches to a snap, with the other half of the snap also on the garment shoulder – you can use lightweight ribbon for this as well). They are a good tool to know, and one I’ve been meaning to write about for over a year!