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The Big Mask Update – Part 2

A treatise on mask styles, filter pockets, and disposable masks

(Turns out there will be a Part 3.)

By Kitty

DISCLAIMER: As always, nothing in this article is meant to be official medical or safety advice.  Everything presented here is either publicly available information that’s considered accurate at the time of writing, or just my opinion.  If you have health-related questions regarding the pandemic (or anything else), you should seek answers from your health care professional, not a sewing lady off the internet. 

Last time, we went over a short summary of Canada’s latest recommendations regarding masks and filters, with an aside for some mask myths and potential mask materials.

This time, we’ll go into a bit more detail on how some of those materials handle when used in actual face masks, as well as the pros and cons of solid 3-layer masks versus masks with filter pockets.   Oh, and my thoughts regarding single-use face masks (spoilers: they’re not great, though possibly not for the reasons you’d think).

Some of my opinions are based on what little tested information that’s available at this date, and others on reasoning and my experience as a fabric worker.  If you want the science part, search and ye shall find, same as I did — though there’s precious little to find.  This isn’t the kind of article that’s going to list citations for all the studies I looked at, just a quick summary.

The government’s most-recommended 3-layer mask system

(And the problems thereof)

The official recommendation says to choose masks with at least three layers, preferably with a non-woven polypropylene-type material sandwiched between two tightly-woven fabrics.  Speaking as a seamstress, I find this problematic.  Not from an effectiveness standpoint, just a purely practical one. 

In my experience, every non-woven material like the one they’re talking about tends to deteriorate fairly rapidly, especially with repeated laundering and heat drying (remember, you’ll need to wash your mask after *every* wearing).

I don’t mean that they all curl up and die after one wash cycle — just that they will lose structural integrity much, much faster than, say, the kind of high-quality tight-woven cotton I might use for the outer shell fabric.  They become thin in spots and scrunched up in others, and that creates permeable patches, which kind of defeats the purpose.

Even more troubling: you won’t be able to *see* when the non-woven middle of your fabric sandwich has become useless if it’s hidden between two layers of sturdy quilting cotton! 

For myself, I’m sticking to three layers of high-quality, tightly-woven (or tight-knit) fabrics if I’m using a hidden permanent third layer.  I don’t fancy tossing out my perfectly good cotton masks every few wearings because I’m afraid the middle’s gone all worn and wonky.  Anyway, Big Gov says this is still a quite acceptable option.

They also say you could choose to have a mask with a filter pocket, and get that polypropylene third layer as a separate filter.  Which brings us to…

The masks with 3-layers vs. 2 layers with filter pockets

This is a complex issue.  But when you pare it down to essentials, it mainly comes down to personal preference, since at this point in time, we don’t have actual peer-reviewed science to tell us one is conclusively better than the other.

The complicated part: how well each system works depends on loads of factors, including but not limited to the fabrics used, how well it fits your face, what filters you choose (if any), how well filter/s play with the mask design, and what you find most comfortable and easy to use.

To VERY BROADLY generalize, assuming all other factors are equal (same quality of materials, same fit, etc), there are pros and cons to both.

3-layer masks

PROS: These are simpler to use, in the sense that you don’t need to insert and remove filters every time you wash them (which is after every wearing.  Right?  Right?).  You don’t need to worry about filters shifting around, or whether it’s covering all the relevant areas.  You don’t have to keep buying and replacing filters, keeping in mind that even reusable filter materials wear out much more quickly than any decent woven mask fabric.  Pretty much any design of mask can be made in three layers.

CONS: Some people find these harder to breathe through than two layers plus a filter, though that may depend on the filter material.  Edges and seams can get bulky where all three layers meet, especially if the mask pattern isn’t designed to minimize this.  The authorities say we should preferentially choose non-woven polypropylene-type material as the third layer, but it will wear out before the regular woven fabric, meaning you have to toss the whole mask.

Masks with a filter pocket

PROS:  Some people feel it’s safer to discard the filter piece after each use (though there’s no evidence that this is better than laundering a reusable material).  But you can now use a reusable polypropylene non-woven filter as the third layer and discard it when it starts to get worn, since you can actually see it.  You have the option of experimenting with different filter materials to see which one you like best.

CONS: Some people don’t want to faff about with filters every time they use their mask.  You have to keep buying and replacing filters, which always wear faster than good-quality shell fabrics.  Some filter materials are pretty dodgy (not breathable, ineffective, or even dangerous) so you really have to use your judgment.  Filters can shift in your mask, especially if the mask design isn’t compatible with it.  Which means some mask designs could be a no-no; for example, many pleated masks don’t play nicely with a lot of filters.  Less breathable filters can cause serious problems for people with respiratory issues.

What about single-use/disposable masks?

Officially, we’re asked to choose washable, reusable masks instead of single-use ones when possible for the environment.  Which is an excellent and valid reason all by itself.  I mean, we have enough problems with without making more of a hash of the planet.  The plague is no excuse to be ecologically irresponsible.

I have a whole other, seamstress/designer’s, perspective on the matter, which is that disposable masks are rather like “one size fits all” clothing.  They work fine if you just happen to be the tiny minority that they actually fit well.  For the rest of us — well, we all know that it should really be “one size fits none.”

Next time you see someone in one of those blue single-use masks, have a good look (from six feet away, of course).  Quite often you will see spaces on either side of their nose at the top of the mask, and gaps at the sides of the face where the mask doesn’t sit flush against the skin. 

If you have noticeable gaps between your face and the mask, it almost doesn’t matter what it’s made of, or how often you change it.  Anything that’s out there can just hop on in, and vice versa.  And the consequences of an ill-fitting mask could be far more serious than a bit of spillover from a one-size-fits-none stretchy bra.

Also, for what it’s worth, the government guidelines do specify that masks should fit well against the face without gaps.

Why don’t disposable masks fit better?

Most disposable masks are made as cheaply and therefore simply as possible.  They tend to be a pleated rectangle-type affair, sometimes with a nose wire which is supposed to make the ruler-straight top edge seal against the curve of our nose bridge. 

This most common single-use mask shape is a lot like our Accordion masks, which is the least popular design we have — for a good reason.  It’s one of the oldest mask designs, and for the longest time, at the beginning of the pandemic, it felt like the only available one, which is why I offered it originally. 

But your face isn’t a flat plane; it’s got peaks and valleys.  There’s only so much a rectangle can do to curve around all your in-and-out bits.  If you have a fairly narrow, small face without prominent cheekbones, eyes that aren’t deep-set, shortish chin and thinner or flatter mouth, this shape might work fine for you. 

However, the rest of us find that it makes for sizeable gaps when worn.  Also, the straight top edge can actually impede your vision if you wear the mask as high as you’re supposed to.  This is why you often see people wearing single-use masks dangerously low on their noses — just so they can still see downward.  Masks designed to scoop down under the eyes and up over the nose get around this problem, but aren’t commonly found in disposable form.

I’ve sewn countless masks for donation or sale since the early days, and NO ONE who has ever tried one of my newer designs (like the Ziggurat Mask, which is still basically a pleated mask, but with actual shaping for the nose, eyes, and chin) ever goes back to the flat rectangular pleated mask style.  I realize this is just anecdotal evidence, but I think it illustrates the point.

The OTHER disposable mask problem

We’re told that masks should be cleaned after every wearing.   In addition, if your mask gets wet, it ceases to be protective and you need to change it for a clean dry one as soon as you safely can.

With cold weather, your own exhalation condenses rapidly, meaning your mask WILL get damp if you’re outside for any length of time, say waiting for the bus or walking to the shops.  Which means you need to change it the moment you’re able to get your hands clean to do it.

It’s not a big deal if you keep several washable masks in rotation and always carry a couple of spares, as you definitely should, especially in the wintertime.  But imagine throwing out three or four disposable masks every day.  Do you believe that everyone who uses them will change them each and every time they get wet or soiled?

If you do, where can I get some of your faith in humanity? 

Even if you’re right, that’s an awful lot of masks in the landfill….

Next time, in Part 3:

This got way too long, so there will have to be a Part 3, in which your Ancient Aunt Kitty will go over many popularly suggested mask filter materials.  We’ll talk general safety, availability, pros and cons for everything from paper towels to vacuum bags to surgical sterile wrap, and maybe a few options you didn’t even know about.  If your ambition was to become a mask filter nerd, join me, and we shall…erm…rule the sewing room together. 

As for the add-a-filter-pocket-tutorial?

It’s in the works.  I’m trying out a few different methods to see which one/s will work best for people without my industrial machinery or specialty sewing notions.  Or even a sewing machine, because these days, not a lot of you have one.  I’m even trying a no-sew option, though I wouldn’t hold my breath for that one.

The Big Mask Update – Part 1

A sewist perspective on mask misinformation, 3-layer masks, filter pockets, new government recommendations, and other matters of safety

By Kitty

DISCLAIMER: As always, nothing in this article is meant to be official medical or safety advice.  Everything presented here is either publicly available information that’s considered accurate at the time of writing, or just my opinion.  If you have health-related questions regarding the pandemic (or anything else), you should seek answers from your health care professional, not a sewing lady off the internet.

NOTE: Most of the masks we’ve been making for sale and donation have been two-layered to date, because that’s what the official guidelines recommended at the time.  Obviously, we’re changing that.  In the meantime, you don’t need to toss out your old masks; I’ll be posting a tutorial shortly on how to retro-fit a makeshift filter pocket on them.

Kitty

In the past week or two, the Canadian government has dropped some new official recommendations regarding face masks and COVID-19.  I’m not repeating all that info here, since you can get it straight from the source (and you should). 

But I thought I’d summarize some ideas that are most relevant to us regular folks, and also call your attention to some misinformation which has been making the rounds.  Some of the false claims are just silly, but others are downright hazardous, so it’s worth educating yourself.  So here’s an info-heavy, no-pictures, not-fun-but-relevant article that’s worth one read-through.

Despite what you may have heard, seen on shelves, or read on the internet…

1. Virus-Proof Masks?

No mask is virus-proof, self-sterilizing, prevents microbe growth, or any of those things that just don’t science.  I even saw one brand of mask that claimed that it used “sterilizing ultraviolet rays” to keep you from catching viruses (oh, I really hope we’re all too smart to fall for that). 

ABSOLUTELY NO MASK you buy (except N95 masks, sort of) can offer you a guarantee that it will prevent viral infection.  It’s actually kinda illegal to say it can.

2. Alternate Materials?

None of the following materials have been tested for effectiveness in face masks in real-life conditions.  This doesn’t mean they don’t work, just that they haven’t been put through proper robust scientific studies, so we just can’t know.  A material that works great in itself may be totally inappropriate for use in face masks.

Some of these may be proven effective in the future, and some are even currently recommended, in the absence of more data.  Others are just plain rubbish or even dangerous (I’ll go into a bit more detail on which, how and why on Part 2 of this series).

  • Paper towels, blue shop towels, facial tissues, newsprint, other paper products
  • Coffee filters, dryer sheets, microfibre tea towels, or other household materials
  • Baby wipes or sanitary napkins
  • HEPA filters, air purifier filters, air filtration system filters, vacuum cleaner bags (HEPA or otherwise)
  • Interfacing, craft batting, polypropylene non-woven fabric, felt, other craft fabrics
  • GORE-TEX fabric, tent material, and other rain-gear materials
  • Halyard H600 medical-grade sterilization wrap material, which I have high hopes will be proven to work at some point in the future.  But I’ve not been able to find any evidence at this moment that it’s any good for sewn face masks.

3. Reusable Filters?

A lot of available reusable filters are a bit questionable.  Most, if not all, of them have never been tested to see how they hold up over multiple washings, and some of them apparently totally disintegrate after being put through a hot wash-and-dry cycle or two.  So be careful and use your judgment if you’re relying on these.

4. Ventilator Buttons?

Masks with ventilator buttons/exhalation vents/breathing vents are basically useless.  Unless they’re plugged up with some kind of filter, in which case, what’s the point of having a vent in the first place?  Vent openings are not really different in principle from just punching holes in your mask.  This isn’t just my opinion, by the way; Canadian health authorities says much the same thing.

5. Best Material vs. Worst Fit?

It’s a myth that the most important thing about a mask is what it’s made of.  Even masks made from the very best medical-grade materials are worth squat if they don’t seal well against your face at the edges.  That makes sense; a virus or droplet doesn’t need to do the limbo through the tangle of mask fabric fibres if it can just shoot through the big gap at the sides or bottom of your mask!  Like water, electricity, and white-tailed deer, infectious particles often take the path of least resistance.

Actual government recommendations regarding masks, summarized

  • You should wear one anytime you’re in public, unless you have a valid medical reason not to
  • Your mask should consist of at least three layers of tight-woven, BREATHABLE fabric and/or have a pocket for a disposable filter
  • Masks should fit well, and stay close to the face at the edges, without any gaping
  • Your nose, mouth and chin should be covered by your mask
  • You need to change masks as soon as possible when they get wet or dirty
  • Mask materials should maintain their shape and structure after washing and drying (more on this oft-overlooked point later)
  • Choose reusable (not disposable) masks if possible

What NOT to do, simplified official Government of Canada version

  • Never uncover your nose or mouth, or hang your mask from your ear or off your chin (you know you’ve seen people doing this!  Don’t be one of them.)
  • Avoid masks with those “ventilation valves” (also called exhalation valves or ventilation buttons) or made from loose-weave materials or with holes
  • Don’t use materials that fall apart, like tissues
  • Don’t use non-breathable materials
  • Don’t put masks on anyone who can’t safely remove it themselves if it becomes necessary
  • Don’t put a mask on anyone who’d having trouble breathing
  • Don’t put masks on children under 2 years
  • Don’t choose masks that impair your vision or interfere with something you’re doing
  • Don’t share masks

Who SHOULDN’T wear masks?

  • Children under 2 years of age
  • Unsupervised children between age 2 and 5
  • People with health conditions that may be made worse by wearing masks
  • People who can’t easily remove masks if needed

What about face shields or those neck gaiter thingies?

Face shields don’t replace masks, though they do protect your eyes from flying droplets.  Because face shields don’t prevent droplets from entering or escaping through the open sides and bottom, they don’t protect you or others from spreading infection. You should only consider a face shield instead of a face mask if you’re unable to wear a mask for some reason.  You can wear both, of course.

Neck gaiters aren’t a good idea because they tend to slip around and need lots of adjusting (you shouldn’t touch any face covering while you’re wearing it, ideally), and because they’re hard to remove without contaminating yourself.  Again, you should consider them only if you can’t wear a face mask.

What should you look for in a reusable face mask (as per current new guidelines)?

1. It Fits *You*

It should fit YOU well.  Not your sister or boss or the model on the box.  This is probably the most-often-overlooked, yet perhaps the most important, factor in your hunt for the best face mask.  If there are visible gaps between the edges of the mask and your face, it doesn’t matter how great the mask material is, or how durable, or even how comfortable (yes, a mask can be comfy AND gappy at the same time).  It’s still an open door for infectious droplets to waltz in and out. 

So if you buy those one-shape-fits-all ten-pack masks, do the world (and yourself) a favour and check all around the edges in a mirror to make sure it’s conforming well to your face.  Do this after you’ve been wearing the mask for your daily activities for an hour or two, not right after you’ve put it on and adjusted it to perfection!

2. Minimum Materials

Masks should be made from at least 3 layers of breathable, washable, tight-woven (or non-woven, in some cases) fabrics that will hold up to repeated washing and drying (or at least 2 layers plus a pocket for holding disposable filters).  Since you should wash all masks after every wear, this is really important.  Also, any material that falls apart, frays, changes size, or loosens its weave after washing isn’t suitable for non-disposable masks.  Watch out for cheaply made masks with unfinished exposed seams, since fraying can lead to loss of protection.

3. Official Middle Layer Material

The official government suggestion is for the middle layer of the recommended three to be made from a non-woven polypropylene material (though they say another layer of tight-woven fabric is okay).  Buuuuuut….

4. The Professional Fabric Perspective

Here’s my professional fabric worker’s perspective on the above: most of those polypropylene non-woven fabrics tend to lose structural integrity much faster than, say, tight-woven cotton or linen.  If the middle layer is sandwiched between the two outer layers like the government suggests, how do you know if it’s disintegrating on you? 

Personally, I’d stick with another layer of tight-woven washable fabric for the middle layer. OR, if you want to use a reusable filter, opt for a filter pocket so you can see the non-woven polypropylene filter and change it when it starts to get manky.

5. Comfortable

It should be comfortable.  Every time you touch your mask while it’s on your face, you’re potentially introducing pathogens.  If you’re constantly adjusting your mask, you really need to try another fit, size, or style.  Not all styles work for all people, so it’s important to try different ones until you find one that works for you (you can always sterilize and donate the ones that didn’t work for you to your local shelter; someone in need will thank you).

Next Time, in Part 2:

Great-Aunty Kitty weighs in on assorted mask fabrics, filter materials, filter pockets, different mask design concepts for different faces and needs, and the who-why-how-when of each one.  And also, at some point before or after that, what you could do with all those two-layer masks you already have.

The Kitty Winter Coat Trilogy (that maybe isn’t)

Part 3: The actual coat.  Sort of.

So here’s Kitty’s winter coat, the end product of all that pattern drafting and testing.  Whee!  I got it done!  For a given value of done, anyway, as I shall explain.

The Good

I feel like it came out as a camo block that makes me look like the Abominable Snow(wo)man hunting snow moose.  But by golly, it’s warm!  Well, it’s super-warm most of the time (more on this later).

When the photos were taken, it was several degrees below zero in the snow, with extra windchill.  My fingers, feet and face were freezing, but my torso was completely cozy. 

The coat looks like it might be too big on me, but it isn’t really, since I want to be able to layer a sweater or two under it when the weather turns even colder.  Right now, it’s roomy, but not so it lets in too much cold air.

Features

I included all the features I sketched out in my original design — the back and front shoulder storm capes, the funnel collar (to which I added a cross-over front and snaps), big patch pockets, back waist tab, and a full lining. 

Weird and Bumpy – As it should Be

By the way, you might have noticed that the front of the coat looks all weird and bumpy when laid on a table and not being worn.  That’s exactly as it should be; those bumps are the spaces that will house my not-precisely-modest bosom when it’s actually on me. 

Here’s some wisdom from your elderly Aunt Kitty: fitted, non-stretchy clothes for large-busted women should always look wonky (!) when they’re on the hanger or lying flat, with bits that stick up or out.  They should not neatly fold flat the way a man’s shirt does (think of it like folding a fitted sheet versus a flat sheet — you have 3-dimensional bits that need accommodating too).   Clothes that lie or hang totally flat will NOT do your curves any favours when they’re actually on your body. 

On Rory, you can see how the bumps and wrinkles disappear, magically transforming into a smooth fit over the chest and gently nipping in at the waist. 

What You Don’t See

You know what you DON’T see?   Those awful armhole wrinkles, or the straining across the chest, which you get when you try on clothes that don’t have any bust shaping.  (If you want some pictures of what I’m going on about, you can look here.)

The curves built into the bust and back areas also means that I can lift my arms and reach forward without feeling like the armholes are binding.  I could get into a snowball fight in this coat and never have any trouble lobbing overhand missiles.

The sleeves are hanging funny because Rory doesn’t have arms to fill them out.  But they’re made in two pieces with a seam running over the shoulders and all the way down to the wrist, creating a contoured fit that follows the bend of the arm.  It also makes enough room for my manly biceps, especially over several layers of shirt and sweater sleeves.

You can’t see it, but the entire body of the coat is interlined with fleece, meaning there’s a whole other coat sandwiched between the outside and the lining.  This adds a good whack of bulk, but that’s fine by me.  I’m far more interested in staying comfy in the chill than in looking svelte.

The Bad

All in all, I think it’s a reasonable first effort at a proper winter coat.  However, there are some things I’m not quite happy with.

First, the fabric.  It’s a lovely heavy cotton twill with a good amount of body and breathability — but as it turns out, cotton also gets waterlogged in wet weather.  When I got home from the snowy walk, I was soaked from all the melted flakes.  Unlike, say, wool, cotton loses all its insulating properties when wet, and goes clammy and cold.  I knew all this before I started, so I have no excuses.  It was just a dum-dum moment.

Next, the snaps.  They’re proper industrial-strength outerwear-weight snaps.  That’s not a bad thing, per se.  Unfortunately, I have tiny little kitty paws (the only delicate parts of me!) and I can hardly get them done and undone by myself.  Seriously, you could use these snaps to close straitjackets.  I need to try an easier alternative.

Finally, the storm cape/flaps.  Somehow I don’t fancy them as much as I thought I would.  On me, these details look not so much ruggedly outdoorsy as accidental, like I caught some fabric remnants in my stitching by mistake.  I’ve often observed that simpler lines just work better on me.  Much as I covet ruffles, flounces, bows, and all the extra details I admire on other people, I just can’t seem to pull them off.

And the Ugly

The really ugly part is that if I want a coat I’m genuinely happy with, I’m going to have to do this all over again. 

Well, not ALL over again.  I’m pretty pleased with the general design (sans some details) and fit, so I won’t need to alter the pattern, which is something.  But I WILL need to make a whole ‘nother coat.

Cutting, stitching, pressing, and finishing 50-plus pieces of fabric yet again feels a little daunting, to say the least.  But it’s got to be done.  And if it were done when ‘tis done, ‘twere well it were done quickly, as the Scottish Play says.  So as with many film franchises, this trilogy is turning into a quadrilogy.

Next time on the increasingly inaccurately named trilogy:

Kitty ordered fabric online for the first time!  It’s this new-fangled, high-tech softshell outerwear fabric she’s never encountered before.  If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to make your own water-repellent snow gear, you’re about to find out.  Hopefully it gets here before the next cold snap.

And also, we’ll explore the wonders of the zipper, because it turns out that even Ancient Aunt Kitty must be dragged kicking into the 19th century if she wants a coat she can get on and off in under ten minutes.

P.S: Photo Apologia

My apologies for the horrendous indoor photos in this and recent blogs.  We’re in the process of some opportunistic house restructuring, meaning that our usual photo area has been dismantled in preparation for being moved into a proper studio-ish setup (we’re going to have lighting and backdrops and all that jazz!). 

Until then, all pictures are being taken in a sliver of space between the corset storage shelves and the sewing machine tables.  Right under the delicious glare of my fluorescent work lights, which picks out every tiny shadow and turns it into a magnified wrinkle.  You’ll have to take my word for it that these items look much nicer in real life than they do in these photos.

Kitty Makes a Winter Coat – the saga continues

Part 2: pattern-making and testing

Previously on the Kitty Winter Coat Saga, I sketched out a design and put together a wish list for my perfect coat.  That’s always the fun and easy part.  Now comes the slog!

Making a pattern

The next step is to turn my drawing into a sewing pattern.  While I could have tried to find an existing pattern that I could modify for my design, I decided to make one from scratch, for a couple of reasons.

  1. Even if I could find something close enough to what I had I mind, I would need to make so, so, SO many pattern alterations to force it to conform to my weird proportions that I’d probably start barking before it was done.
  2. I already have a personal sloper, which was made by having Felix wrap me in duct tape (that’s a whole separate story).  A sloper is essentially a basic fitting pattern which, if I sewed it up as-is, should fit me like a second skin. 

So I chose to create my coat pattern from scratch using my sloper, tracing it off, cutting it apart along my design seam lines, adding wearing and design ease (that’s extra room for moving and to make it look the way I intended, respectively), and so forth — all the fun details that turn something into a working sewing pattern.  This looked like an awful lot of pattern pieces for someone who prefers instant-gratification projects, but I soldiered on regardless.

I drafted a tab for the back, which is purely decorative, and big pockets and storm flaps, which are anything but.  I almost made the pocket piece too small because I measured around my hand to get the approximate size as usual.  Luckily, I remembered in time that winter pockets need to accommodate hands encased in thick gloves or mittens!  The final pocket pattern piece look big enough to carry a corgi, but it’s based on the measurement of my hand while wearing my favourite insulated glove. 

Initial testing

Whenever you make a pattern from scratch, you test the heck out of it before you cut into your nice fabric.  More than once I’ve had a nasty surprise when things didn’t fit or look anything like I intended once things were translated into 3D.

Maybe this doesn’t happen to the kind of people who measure 1/8 teaspoon of something for a recipe, but I’m a fairly slapdash person in pattern-making, as in cooking.  So I cut out the basic pieces (just the body and sleeves, no collar, pockets, or other details) from some black cotton for a quick initial test.

Those of you who have read my previous blogs will notice that these photos aren’t taken on Amelia, my usual female-shaped dress form.   She’s about five sizes too small for me, and has a pronounced waist and hips, which I really don’t.

This one is Rory, my technically male dress form.  At some point, I realized that if I slapped one of my bras on him and stuffed it with some fabric scraps, he makes a decent enough approximation of my figure for me to do some rudimentary fitting. 

Rory in My Bra, With Amelia by His Side

My utter lack of hips and super-broad shoulders actually works better with the traditionally male mannequin shape, and Rory’s hip measurement is pretty close to mine.  Plus I’ll do anything to avoid pin-fitting a garment while I’m wearing it!

The good news: the first test shows that the pattern pieces all fit together, and that the length, girth, and cup size are roughly correct.  Which meant that I could proceed onto the next step.

The “wearable muslin” (aka the second test)

A test garment is sometimes called a “muslin” in sewing circles because an unbleached cotton fabric, sometimes called muslin in North America, is often used for the purpose.  Where I grew up, “muslin” referred to a very fine, delicate cotton fabric used for summer tea dresses, so this is a bit strange to me.  But I digress.

A “wearable muslin” is when you make up a pattern in a fabric that isn’t your final material, but will be good enough to wear if the fit turns out okay.  In my case, I chose a mid-weight sweater fabric, because I’m NOT about to launch into a full-out coat construction project without some further testing. 

After all, I’m planning to fully line my coat, as well as interline it with insulating fleece, meaning I’ll be cutting out each main pattern piece at least three times (four times for the pieces that will need interfacing).  Plus the tab, flaps, and so forth, which are many more details than my normal projects contain.  Hence, I made this coat-cardigan-cross thingie:

I tried it out in the unseasonably early snow, along with my daft-looking (but warm!) pink brain hat.  One can always use some extra brains, especially when testing new patterns. 

The verdict: I like the length, which I had worried might be too long, and I need to change the collar shape a bit so it will overlap more against the wind.  But overall, it feels pretty darn good.  And I have full arm mobility, which I’ve never had in an off-the-rack coat or jacket:

Actual Arm Mobility

I made the pockets and the collar for this test version, but didn’t line it.  The lack of lining AND interlining made the whole thing far too loose, which was just as it should be; I’ll need that extra room in the final coat for all that toasty padding. 

To make this “coatigan” wearable, I tucked up the excess circumference (over 4 inches!) into mock front plackets, which actually created a nice vertical detail next to the front zipper AND made it quite fitted:

Close-Up of Front Tuck Detail

Next time, the actual coat!

The fit was good enough that I feel confident moving right into sewing the fully lined and detailed version.  I’ll need to hustle my behind; as you saw in the photos, we’ve got snow in October.  That’s quite abnormal for us here in (relatively) southern British Columbia, so the winter promises to be cold.

So expect the next instalment quite soon.  No excuses for procrastinating when one is racing against the weather!

Kitty Makes a Winter Coat

Part 1: The reason why, followed by a bit of design

Kitty’s Perfect Winter Coat

We had our first frost of the year last night! 

When the weather shifts toward winter, a Kitty’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of coats.  Lovely warm insulated coats in fun prints and bright colours, which fit perfectly and lets me move all I want.  So off I went to a shop, all ready to give the nice people money for my fantasy winter coat. 

Then I ran smack into a cartload of reality.  To summarize:

Reality 1: My upper and lower body belong to different people

I am over-abundantly gifted in the breast department, and failed to show up the day they were handing out bums.  If something fits me in the hips, it hasn’t a hope of going around my upper body.  If it fits me at chest level, it’s huge everywhere else.

By all accounts, this happens to loads of other folks, though more often it’s the other way around, since the majority of women have hips that are larger around than their bust.  In any case, I could not find anything that remotely fit — at least not both halves of me at the same time.

Reality 2: I am a statistically normal-sized woman (which is a problem…?!)

More or less normal, anyway.  My measurements (though not my proportions) are pretty darn close to the average North American woman’s, though I’m a couple of inches taller.  To the fashion industry, that apparently means I am a bison-like behemoth who should only wear shapeless sacks, preferably in black.  My selection in ready-to-wear is, to put it kindly, limited.   

I hadn’t tried to buy clothes from a shop in about twelve years until this point, so I had forgotten just how out of touch with reality fashion sizing can be.  For reference, I scale the sizing of all my own designs so the size “Medium” is a STATISTICAL medium.  Meaning that the most common size for my customers tended to be, well, Medium, followed by small and large. 

That does actually make sense, right?  Medium should reflect something like the average size in a given community of humans.  I never could see why people who fell into a Small or X-Small in our size range kept claiming they usually took size XXL or something. 

At least now I have a better understanding, if not a coat I’m willing to buy.

Reality 3: Some parts of me are NOT statistically normal

I have proportionally wide biceps, and the intense weight-lifting regimen I’ve been on during the stay-at-home period hasn’t exactly made them more delicate and sylphlike.  All the extra muscle mass also only adds to the linebacker shoulders I always had (I was a competitive swimmer in my wasted youth). 

Though I’m probably bulkier in the shoulders and back than normal, I’m sure I’m not the only person to find coats or jackets really binding when reaching forward or raising the arms.  Or, for that matter, to feel like every piece of clothing always has sleeves that are just a bit too tight.

Why I’m making a winter coat

I have never bought a winter coat that fit me.  Anything that can close around my bountiful bosoms and wide back ends up being a flapping tent around the waist and hips.  My raggedy old coat is massively baggy everywhere EXCEPT at bust level.  And of course, black, because that’s all there was in that size range when I bought it.  Yes, this is before I started sewing.

That kind of boxy fit makes anyone look huge.  Now, I’m a substantial person and I happen to be just fine with the amount of space I take up in the world.  But that doesn’t mean I want to look like I’m smuggling a troop of badgers under my coat. 

More importantly, all that excess space makes a coat awfully draughty, which is a real problem for someone who likes to go for daily five-mile walks come rain or snow.  If that makes me a madwoman, I’d prefer to be a snuggly warm madwoman.

Funnily, in spite of being way too big, the old coat feels super-restrictive whenever I take it into my head to do something fun, like climb a tree or pelt Felix with snowballs.  Something about the cut of the shoulders and back doesn’t play nicely with my shape, and it’s the same story for every ready-to-wear coat I tried on.  If I want this fixed, I’ll have to do it myself.

What makes a perfect coat?

Perfect for me, anyway.  I imagine you have your own ideas.

My perfect coat needs some kind of shaping that builds in curves over the bust and upper back, either with seam lines or darts.  The alternative is to go right back to huge and boxy, which kind of defeats my purpose. 

The sleeves need to be roomy enough for both my generous biceps and multiple layers of clothing.   The line of the shoulder and upper back has to follow and move with my body well enough so I can do cartwheels if I feel like it.

I also want it to look at least somewhat stylish, since it’s the only thing anyone is likely to see me wearing all winter.  Most importantly, of course, it has to be warm enough for the local winter, which can see -25°C on occasion (I realize that’s not much to a born Canadian, but I plead weakness due to a tropical upbringing).

The design, Mark 1

The sketch at the beginning is my starting point.  I chose princess seams both front and back, because I think this is the easiest way to accommodate my chest and my muscular upper back while keeping things fitted at the waist.  The high closed collar should keep my neck warm, and the storm flaps are 1) cute and 2) extra protection against weather. 

Raglan sleeves (the kind that go all the way up to the neckline and doesn’t have a shoulder/sleeve seam) are great for mobility and for making enough arm room without resorting to gathered sleeves.  Mind you, I love me a gathered sleeve, but it’s probably a bit much for a winter coat I’ll most likely wear while shovelling alpaca poo. 

Add some big patch pockets for warming my paws and an ever-so-slightly flared skirt so I can pretend I have hips, and we’re golden.

Closing reflections

For someone who designs and sews clothes for a living, I don’t often make everyday items for myself.  I’ve just been too busy trying to make enough items for sale.  The pandemic changed all that, basically pushing pause on the business.

But in all that chaos, I suddenly found myself with time.  It’s been ten years since I last had any of that to spare.  So for the next few days or weeks, I intend to indulge in some slow sewing, and document the process. 

If you’ve ever wondered how one of my designs go from random idea to finished product, this is pretty much the process — except that this time, I’m only trying to please myself instead of obsessing about what everyone else might want.

At this moment, this project is just that pencil drawing.  Next time, I’ll be turning  the sketch into a pattern and a test garment.  If it works out, I’ll make the final version; otherwise, for all I know, I’ll scrap the design and start over again.  

There are quite a few more steps to go, hopefully before the snow arrives, so I will be back at it again quite soon.  The forecast says it may snow before Halloween.   Eeep.  Pray for me.

Until then, stay safe and toasty!