Years ago I received McCall 8420, a 1935 pattern with a skirt and kinda-half-Norfolk jacket. The pattern was my grandmama's, who resembled one of the illustrated women, and the size was a junior 11.
24 inch waist, are you kidding me!? There was no way it would fit me, so this turned into a grading project.
...which I stagnated on (of course), until I bought Simplicity 3688, containing a retro 1940s blazer pattern, to use as a cross-reference on the 1935 jacket.
|Using the jacket pattern to cross-reference|
So with 10 days until leaving for the holidays, I sliced into the wool, muslin underlining, hair canvas, and satin lining, tailor-tacking and pad stitching like a boss.
|The hair canvas on one of the front pieces|
|The front piece with the hair canvas attached, trimmed, darts done up, and the lapel pad stitched and taped, steaming for shape over a rolled towel.|
|The jacket back, made up of 5 different pattern pieces. I made several mistakes here and even had to recut the skirt. All noted for next time, though...|
Last night I set in the sleeves, easing and shrinking an extra inch and a half into the armscyes and achieving a smooth sleeve cap (this is sorcery, I swear), and you know what? Even with my mistakes and fumblings, now that it's starting to look like a proper jacket, I'm proud of it!
|Facings are on, sleeves are set, and now it's looking pretty good. Time for lining and closures|
There's tailoring. And then there's tailoring.
It's at once forgiving and punishing, but somehow always rewarding. Even just a *little* tailoring goes a long way, and the difference between a tailored and un-tailored garment is huge. Once you go down that pad-stitched rabbit hole, you can never...ever...go back. So perhaps spending my 10 days pad stitching, steaming, and easing pieces together appears to be a waste of time, but the result is well worth it, and in the words of Guy Martin, "If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right."
|As 007 says...|
...and it's tailored.