There’s a reason why Vivian Ward wore red on her date with Edward Lewis. It transformed her, Cinderella style, in an elegant way. It’s also why many of us choose that crimson hue instead of white, green or any other color when we want to vamp it up. Research has proven the color subconsciously but powerfully peaks emotions, and society has leveraged this effect long before it was confirmed by science. Women in Mesopotamia wore red lipstick 10,000 years ago and Cleopatra was known for her seductive, red kissers. Although we ladies paint our lips using formula from a tube rather than a crushed up insect, the effect remains the same. Daaaamnn girl.
While my lingerie sewing has increasingly become more intricate, my garment sewing has swung in the other direction. Back to the basics. Yet, despite the itch for simplicity, I still crave a minor dose for bloody rose. There’s a weird dichotomy going on inside my head and I think it’s ironic how it’s balancing out. However conflicting my sartorial sewing is, this pair of pants, Wexler Rose, was the perfect fix.
One of my sewing goals this year was to develop 5 core patterns that would serve as the basis of my me-made wardrobe. I gave myself the entire year because that’s how much time it takes to not only develop a foundation pattern, but fine tune and perfect it. One of those was Jasper Lee (the top) and another was Orla Madison. I’ve made them out of silk pique and I’ve made them out of orange lace. This time around, it was red wool from Mood Fabrics. I won’t go into too much detail about the construction, you can find that information here, but what was new about this version was the longer, wider leg. It was an experiment. Could I simply extend and widen the leg from the previous pattern without it altering the hang or the balance? Yes, indeed! It’s a no brainer, but every pattern maker must be careful of the butterfly fly effect a simple slash and open or something similar could cause.
I also recently brought up a topic about pants and underlining. The first pair of these pants was unlined, and it stretched out during the day. I underlined the second pair with a light-weight, firmly woven cotton, and it worked wonders. Those babies stayed very close to their original measurements through many wearings. This version tested my theory. Now, I’m not saying that every pair of pants need to be underlined, but considering the amount of stress they are put under, I think that if you’re using a fabric for a pair of pants that isn’t heavy-weight, consider underlining it. Beef those babies up (it also makes slip stitching the waistband and catch stitching the seam down a lot easier!)
Oh, and what happened to that polka dot top I planned to pair with these pants? I lost it! I swear I’m not lying! Not the whole thing, but the back piece. I searched high and low for it to no avail. Has that ever happened to you?