There’s a certain freedom that comes from working without a pattern, if you can learn to just let go and trust your talent and instincts.
By Cheryl DeWolfe
One of my hobbies is sewing, but I absolutely hate following a pattern. Cutting and pinning tissue to fabric, trying to figure out which way the bias is, following along the outline with the scissors, and all the rest — I find it draining, so I just don’t do it.
I got a C in home economics when I was in grade eight and thought I would be happy if I never saw another sewing machine in my life. That changed when I needed a job in the summer following my first year of university.
I got my first sewing job with a local company that made window coverings — my job was to run the tacking machine: fold the fabric, slide it under the foot, hit the pedal and presto! pinch pleated drapes. It was mind numbing but less frustrating than my next sewing job.
With an armload of unbleached cotton fabric, a handful of zippers and an instruction sheet, I was to sew futon covers and be paid by the piece. I had to borrow a sewing machine and right away I ran into trouble. When I had finished the first cover, I tried to turn it inside out and realized I’d sewn the zipper backwards. It did not get better. In order to make a decent wage, I knew I had to sew three an hour; instead each one was taking me that long. After a week of frustration I returned the remaining supplies and admitted my defeat.
Following those summer jobs, it would be some time before I tried to tackle any sewing. Then, one year, my Father gave me a very sturdy 60s-era Singer sewing machine; its simplicity allowed me to ease back into stitching. Before long I was sewing again but it was under my terms. As an adult, I knew my strengths and my weaknesses and following patterns was a weakness. Instead, I sewed gift bags, plush toys, Halloween costumes and more, all without patterns.
I found I was able to get more done and I was usually happier with the results when I was only comparing the end product to an image in my mind instead of a commercial product. I also knew that each thing was my very own creation, each one unique. Even if I made several items of a similar design, small details and a lack of exact measurement meant there were subtle variations among the bunch.
It’s an approach I’ve tried to extend to other parts of my life, too. Some of the best vacations are those without an agenda, the best meals made from ingredients on hand, the best blog posts written off the top of my head. Sometimes, we need to follow patterns and plans; the rest of the time, I find it more satisfying to ditch the pattern and colour outside the proverbial lines.
Photo Credits
“Vintage McCall’s pattern” Shimelle @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.
“c-is-for-crafting” © Cheryl DeWolfe . All Rights Reserved.
Hi there, fellow Victorian! I love your well written post and totally agree with you on sewing with patterns. Argh! And I love sewing freehand too! I plan to dust off my sewing machine and sergers this winter and just play around with fabric!
Lovely! I work without patterns, too.
“I found I was able to get more done and I was usually happier with the results when I was only comparing the end product to an image in my mind instead of a commercial product.”
EXACTLY.
So far it has worked very well for me, thanks to some very simple but very important tricks that my mother taught me when I was very young, plus free rein on her own machine for me to learn from my own mistakes. I have used patterns and sometimes I do find it’s worth the pain -for the first time and/or to learn how properly building a garment works. But once I get it under my belt, I prefer to just go with my own ideas.
Thanks, Chair! My skills in garment construction are limited but I’ve made oodles of other things and could probably wing it, you know, in case of an apocalypse. Having seen some of your work, I am now even more impressed that you also just go for it!