I’ve sewn on and off for over 20 years, sometimes very seriously (and for a time as a theatrical costumer). Even so, I have plenty of sewing failures. Yesterday I sewed up a muslin for a pair of trousers, and they fit horribly: 3 inches too large at the back waist, much too small in the thighs and knees (which is not a problem I usually have), and with a crotch curve better suited to a mutant than a human. These trousers were a Hot Mess.
And I don’t understand it, especially the mutant crotch! I can walk into Forever 21+ and buy a cheap pair of jeans with a perfectly reasonable and decently fitting crotch curve. It’s not a store known for its incredibly well-fitting goods, either. Same with Target. Or, sometimes, Lane Bryant. (Lane Bryant also suffers from Mutant Crotch Curve on some of its trousers — but only some, and only some of the time. It’s pretty much random.) I don’t understand why pattern designers are putting crazy crotches on trousers these days. Even the Big 4 sewing pattern companies draw better crotches than most indie patterns I’ve seen, at least on the larger sizes. And say what you will about Burda, but they understand a crotch curve.
This is the third different-but-similar indie trousers pattern I’ve made a muslin of then discarded. I could make 3 or 4 more muslins until I worked out the fit, I guess, but I don’t have the time or energy to do that. I’m going to trace off my favorite stretch woven trousers and work from there instead. At least the crotch curve will be great.
Anyway, today I wore an old space dye t-shirt for Me Made May. It was the first t-shirt I ever made that I thought was good enough to wear — and it has held up really nicely. It’s a Greenstyle Centerfield Raglan tee, though I no longer remember the particulars. I never made the pattern again, much to my shame, because it had droopy wrinkles in the sleeve/uppper bust area that I couldn’t figure out how to fix. But oh well! It’s a perfectly fine tee, and I love the fabric. (Made entirely on a regular sewing machine, too.)