Adventures in book reviewing

One of the most-educational experiences in my sewing career
was drafting a sleeveless bodice from scratch, following
instructions in a book I found in the Indianapolis library.
I never followed up on it to make the rest of the sloper and
design my own dresses, but it broke me of being afraid of
patterns.

So I recommend a similar experience to any beginners I
happen to run into, but only vaguely recommend "a book that
gives step-by-step instructions" because I haven't been able
to find one. I can't remember the title or author of the
book I read in the early sixties, and I doubt that it would
do any good if I could -- it was already twenty years old
forty years ago; chances are that it would take a dedicated
book collector to track it down now.

All the books that I did find tell the hapless beginner to
buy a commercial pattern and fiddle and faddle and fuss and
fume and adjust and tweak and generally do a *lot* more work
to get an approximate sloper than would suffice to draft a
precise one from scratch. And, of course, this in no way
breaks one of one's dependence on commercial patterns.

Then last summer there was a useful coincidence: it happens
that all my blouse patterns are designed on the
hang-from-a-yoke principle, even those that have no yokes,
and they all have shirt-type sleeves. And just as I'd
decided that I need to draw a dress-bodice sloper from
scratch before I design my fall and winter suits, it
happened that the latest of the books I sometimes see
recommended here and send for by Interlibrary Loan *did*
have step-by-step instructions. The instructions substitute
more standard numbers for measurements than I would like,
but all of them are in places that are easy to correct in
the muslin stage.

Calloo, Callay! I shall draft my sloper, complete with
dress-type sleeves, write a review of the book, and post it
on my Web site. Alas, real life intervened and it was time
to send the book back before I'd even read the instructions.
So on the very last day, I stopped by the copier on my way
to the book-return desk, and reduced the two relevant
two-page spreads onto legal paper.

Weeks later, I had time to work on the sloper -- and
discovered that all I could remember about the book was that
it had come from Indiana University at Bloomington. The
photocopies I'd made didn't happen to include any clues.

After a while, I realized that most libraries have their
catalogs on the Web now -- it's *much* cheaper than
maintaining card files -- and I Googled Indiana University
at Bloomington Library. They have exactly one
pattern-drafting book, as near as I can make out from the
Web catalog (which isn't as easy to use for this purpose as
the old card catalogs were -- that's where part of the
"cheaper" comes from -- but at least one doesn't first need
to drive to Bloomington!):

Author: Tanous, Helen Nicol, 1917-
Title: Designing your own dress patterns.
Published: Peoria, Ill., C. A. Bennett Co. [1951]
Description: 208 p. illus. 28 cm.
Subject headings: Dressmaking--Patterns.

So I'll have to send for it again to see whether it's the
same book.

But I can't recommend the instructions to beginners without
first re-writing them from beginning to end, and from the
inside out. The author (who may or may not be Nicol)
assumed that the reader had

a) complete set of proper, dedicated pattern-drafting
equipment

b) lots of experience in drafting patterns

c) twenty sets of measurements to turn into slopers before
lunch

The methods that make it quicker to get through a lot of
slopers make it harder to understand what is going on, and
the techniques that take advantage of your drafting board
and T-square are indirect and extra work for someone working
on the dining table with a yardstick and maybe making do
with a tablet-back cardboard instead of a draftsman's
triangle.

For example, the instructions begin with half a dozen
mysterious acts, then say "a rectangle has formed". I'd
begin by saying "First we draw a rectangle". Her rectangle
expands from the upper left corner, I'd say "Draw a
horizontal line to build your rectangle on."

And I'd give more clues as to what "a suitable curve" is.

I do have a drafting board and a T-square -- a nice big one
that let me work on ledger-sized paper comfortably when I
was editing a newsletter. But it's somewhat smaller than
the sheet of paper needed to work on the front and back of a
bodice simultaneously, so I worked on the dining table,
using my 12" 45-degree triangle in lieu of a square.

I did manage to follow the instructions with these awkward
tools -- but when I was adding seam allowances to the
pattern I had traced off the front sloper, I discovered that
the author had completely neglected the question of whether
the legs of the shoulder dart were the same length. This
was easy to correct on the sloper, not so easy to transfer
to the pattern without tracing the whole thing again, and I
was in no mood to do that because I already *had*, after
discovering that one of the T-pins holding the pattern paper
in register with the sloper paper went through only one
layer. (I didn't see that it was slipping around until
after getting the entire job done, of course, and it's a
tedious job because my carbon paper is the small sheets
meant for typing letters.) I put it away until morning,
then taped both sheets to the patio door. At which point I
realized that I could have worked on the *outside* of the
window -- it was summer, and the patio door really does lead
to a patio. But it's probably just as well that I took a
nap first.

And then I compared the front shoulder seam to the back to
make sure they could be sewn together and realized why the
back sloper looked funny: there is no shoulder dart.
There is no way you can reconcile the chest measurement with
the shoulder measurement without some sort of dart control
-- except maybe a really, really big armhole . . .

And though there is a dart at the elbow of the sleeve, the
seam isn't bent -- which means that it *will* be bent after
the dart is sewn.

Perhaps all this is cleared up in the rest of the chapter.

After a thorough search of the stash I found some fabric I
was willing to test this in -- a cotton print about two
notches down from my $1.98/meter 58" wide unbleached muslin
-- but I haven't yet had the spirit to cut it.

Joy Beeson
--
http://home.earthlink.net/~joybeeson/ -- needlework
http://home.earthlink.net/~beeson_n3f/ -- Writers' Exchange
joy beeson at earthlink dot net

joy beeson wrote:

[drafting a sloper]
it
happened that the latest of the books I sometimes see
recommended here and send for by Interlibrary Loan *did*
have step-by-step instructions. The instructions substitute
more standard numbers for measurements than I would like,
but all of them are in places that are easy to correct in
the muslin stage. [...]

After a thorough search of the stash I found some fabric I
was willing to test this in -- a cotton print about two
notches down from my $1.98/meter 58" wide unbleached muslin
-- but I haven't yet had the spirit to cut it.

chuckle Let us know how it turns out!

--
Kathy - help for new users at http://www.aptalaska.net/~kmorgan/
Good Net Keeping Seal of Approval at http://www.gnksa.org/
OE-quotefix can fix OE:
http://home.in.tum.de/~jain/software/oe-quotefix/

joy beeson wrote:
So I recommend a similar experience to any beginners I
happen to run into, but only vaguely recommend "a book that
gives step-by-step instructions" because I haven't been able
to find one.

That's an interesting approach. I'm sure it will give a strong
grounding in the fundamentals to those that pursue it. Do you have any
experience with how many people do go that route, and how they do?

I'm curious because in the course of developing some educational
materials, I've been trying to decide on the best strategy for
beginners. The approach I've used so far is to recommend they make a
lot of simple, loose-fitting things from cheap fabric until they start
to get a hang for how everything goes together so they can understand
altering for themselves. How does the "dive in and learn it all to
begin with" method work to start with?

Tom Farrell
http://www.SewingWithTom.com/

On 13 Sep 2004 12:49:15 -0700, (Tom
Farrell) wrote:

How does the "dive in and learn it all to
begin with" method work to start with?

I'm afraid that my careless wording implied that I have had
students -- I'm writing a book for beginners, and since I
don't expect ever to get it into printable form, I have
created a Web page linked to the back-up files in order to
get comments. (C'mon guys! Say something nasty! How can I
fix my nits if nobody will pick them?) But this presents a
peril of converting the whole thing to HTML. (Every time I
want to show a picture to Sewinglist or this newsgroup, I
add another HTML file.) I'm really tempted by the ability
to add graded headers; if it weren't that there isn't any
way to make a header part of the following paragraph

LIKE SO: without codes that utterly wreck the ms. for
reading as plain text, and if I weren't in the habit of
using two levels of paragraphs where HTML provides only one,
I think I'd do it despite the inconvenience of changing the
paragraph markers in forty-three lengthy files.

------------------ {section break}

In 1964, when I read the book I would like to cite, I was
over twenty years old, and had, therefore, been sewing for
some time, so it wasn't a "dive in and learn everything at
once" experience. Once I had the pattern, I knew what to do
with it.

But I did cut my teeth on patternless sewing. When I was a
teenager, pleated and gathered skirts were all the rage, and
we made those without patterns, simply tearing the fabric to
shape. These skirts were usually cotton prints, which tear
easily. (One book I looked at during my last trip to the
library said to lay patterns out a good two inches from torn
edges. What's she on about, sucker? If a fabric is going
to pull that much, DON'T TEAR IT. My rule was "keep the
stitching line at least a quarter inch from the torn edge.")

I recall making a "butcher linen" (rayon) skirt with a
matching Indian Head (coarse, high-grade muslin) blouse; I
must have drawn threads for that skirt.

In 4-H, I made a fringed place mat and a drawstring apron.
My sister found the apron -- never worn -- a year or so
back. For long-term effect (as opposed to merely exposing
children to concepts in the interest of cultural literacy),
it would be better to have beginners make things they
actually want and will use.

Mom's philosophy was that pajamas and underwear were good
beginner's projects -- if they don't turn out quite as well
as you hoped, you'll wear them anyway. Of course the
pedagogical result is *much* better if the pajamas turn out
so lovely that the student wants to make them up in a better
fabric to wear jogging.

Pajamas also have the virtue of fitting so loosely that a
standard size will do.

The accepted method for little girls to learn was the
manufacture of doll clothes, but my older sisters spoiled me
and I never got beyond the "wrap a scrap around her" stage
-- until I made a playsuit to lay my favorite doll in the
back of the closet in. (Picture on my web page.)

Momma's scrap box was a very important educational tool.
Whenever I wanted to play with cloth, there was a box full
of it that I could use without even asking. The "Clearance
Closeout" section at fabric.com is a similar resource for
the adult beginner. There were some nice and very cheap
100%-cotton checks filed under "shirtings" the last time I
visited; these would be perfect for beginners to practice
with.

I remember hand-sewing with a doubled thread until I had
enough control to use it single, but don't remember *what* I
sewed. Then there was an embroidery lesson from my
grandmother that terminated rather suddenly when I stuck my
finger, and grandmother freaked out and finished the job
herself. (If I ever do teach a beginner, I'll say "be
careful not to bleed on your work!" before starting first
aid. I was an adult before I found _The Stitches of
Creative Embroidery_ in the library and learned how to
embroider. Simple embroidery is a *very* good way to learn
how to control a needle.)

The adult beginner can make table linens and curtains and
other things that don't interest a child, but posts here
suggest that it's dangerous not to make at least one garment
early on: it can lead to being frozen in fear at the
thought of cutting shapes out of cloth. Perhaps one could
sneak up on such a student by having him draft patterns for
simple things: A cover for a particular book, a bag for a
specific object, a scarf or sarong, a poncho, a ruana, a
poncho shirt
http://home.earthlink.net/~beeson_n3...T/ROUGH038.TXT
-- but a poncho shirt is easy only if you make it out of
cheap cloth and throw it away when it gets dirty.

Sometimes the current level of education gets dispiriting.
At a committee meeting of at least half a dozen mature women
yesterday, I was the only one who could take on the very
complicated and esoteric job of cutting a sheet into two
tablecloths. (I've got the old hems out -- luckily, they
were put in with a two-thread serger. Now to see whether I
can remove the creases and needlemarks.)

Joy Beeson
--
http://home.earthlink.net/~joybeeson/ -- needlework
http://home.earthlink.net/~beeson_n3f/ -- Writers' Exchange
joy beeson at earthlink dot net

On Thu, 09 Sep 2004 14:07:10 GMT, joy beeson
wrote:

Author: Tanous, Helen Nicol, 1917-
Title: Designing your own dress patterns.
Published: Peoria, Ill., C. A. Bennett Co. [1951]
Description: 208 p. illus. 28 cm.
Subject headings: Dressmaking--Patterns.

So I'll have to send for it again to see whether it's the
same book.

It most definitely isn't. This book makes no effort at
teaching the student to make his own basic blocks; it
supplies quarter-scale blocks to practice with. Seems to be
a quite clear and succinct description of the art of
designing dresses, slacks, playsuits, etc. All for women,
but the chapter on how to adapt the previous lessons for
designing children's clothes did suggest using the
child-size bodice sloper to design a boy's shirt.

The slopers given have no shoulder dart in the back.

I *think* that this is the first pattern-drafting book I've
reviewed that *didn't* have lantern sleeves! (Has anyone
here ever spotted a lantern sleeve in the wild?)

It's amazing how much thinner we were in 1951. (I vaz dere,
Sharley; we really did look like that.)

As for my bodice drafting: step by step. One day I managed
to cut it out, learning in the process that even for a
muslin, you want a reasonably decent fabric; this was very
difficult to persuade to lie straight -- perhaps related to
its habit of being very hard to iron, and very quick to
muss.

Several days later, I said, "baste it together already! Two
side seams, two shoulder seams, get on with it." Then I
realized that there were also six darts, and marking the
darts and notches was all I got done that day. Well, I also
marked the center front on both front pieces, since I'd
allotted the entire remainder of the scrap to be the
button-band. (After realizing how poor the cotton print
was, I'd used it up making pillowcases, so only narrow
strips remained in my stash.) Lesson he wash-out
markers are really, really cool.

A few days later I sewed two darts, basted four (forgot I
had six, and didn't want to change the thread back), basted
the shoulder seams, and pinned one side seam. And it's been
draped over the sewing machine ever since. It's really,
really time I got on with it, since I can't design my winter
dress until I have a new bodice sloper, and it's getting
cool out.

Joy Beeson
--
http://home.earthlink.net/~joybeeson/ -- needlework
http://home.earthlink.net/~beeson_n3f/ -- Writers' Exchange
joy beeson at earthlink dot net

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