These are actually my third Calyer pants

 I was taking seriously my plan to actually use my fancy stash fabrics this year. 

At some point I decided this luscious wool from Geneva should be a pair of Calyer pants. I have an odd relationship with the Calyer pants.  My first pair, I didn't entirely love them...but I sort of did.  The pockets weren't perfect and they are a bit shallow, so not very satisfying to put things in. Yet I wore the first Calyer pants...literally until the butt split open sideways because I had worn the fabric out.  It was a weird fabric too, a wool blend that shrunk and shrunk so the fit was no longer the original fit. 

When I made my second Calyer pants I was sort of disconcerted by the loose fit. I made them from a stretchy fabric and I lengthened the pockets.  The issue with that is that the pocket kind of interferes with my actual thigh, so the extra room in it is still not useful to put things.  I ended up giving them to a friend who uses them for hiking.  I even forgot to blog about them. 

I had kind of forgotten all of this.  So I made Calyer pants (size XS, same as before) from one of my favourite fabrics of all time.  I'm not sure why I rate it so highly.  It was expensive because it was a fabric store in the centre of Geneva, I was there to have my interview with MSF, so maybe it's because of those memories. It's a nice sort of loose weave, not transparent, but hinting at transparency.  I really do love it so much, but I didn't buy enough to really play with, since it was expensive.  (I wanted some patterned silks but they were hundreds of dollars per metre so luckily I held back...) 

And they are too tight. 

 

Luckily one of the friends on my current recipient list is smaller than me by quite a bit. So they went off to her.  I look at the photos and they aren't that bad though the butt is obviously snug, but wearing them, I felt like I might damage them at any moment.  I never expected to have such a long relationship with this pattern, since I disparagingly called it "fancy loungewear" but truthfully I would be tempted to try again at some point, keeping in mind something along the lines of maybe drapey (though that didn't work out super well) and maybe a bit stretchy (but not too stretchy, as those were too big.) 

Another thing I have noticed, and maybe I'm alone in this - that when I use these deep stashed, scary fabrics, even when the results are not exciting and I end up giving the item away - what I feel is a sense of relief.  I'm trapped by the stress of using my beautiful stash to make beautiful, perfect things, and while each inspiration is a step towards a platonic ideal, the act of trying to reach perfection is more important than the result.  I've noticed this over and over again, but only recently has it actually turned into results: I have really cut down on buying expensive fabric when I don't have any idea what to do with it. 

 

 

Me Made May 2018 - week 1

I decided sort of lackadaisically to participate in Me Made May.  I'm working nights, living in limbo and it means I commit to anything these days rather hesitantly.  Even wearing things I make.  Which I do anyway.

Because I don't change clothes on a normal schedule (nights! and surfing!) I'm not bothering to take photos of me in the clothes.  I have put in a modicum of effort to make sure I'm wearing something me made almost all the time, though - I think I didn't sleep in me-mades this week but sure, I can fix that for the next few weeks.  Conveniently enough I'm about to make even more loungepants!

This also forced me to finally learn how to make photo collages.  I'm so behind on the concept that there is an app for everything.

Week one included the following items:

Many tshirts: Briar and 2 Renfrews - the red one is upcycled
Mission maxi upcycled tank.
Mystery swimsuit, pattern tester.
Hampshire pants
Calyer pants.
New Jalie cardigan, soon-to-be blogged

I'm perfectly aware that my wardrobe in New Zealand ends up always falling back on comfortable, easy wearing but not necessarily flattering basics.  I am repeatedly surprised how much wear these Hampshire pants have gotten but they are the perfect post-surf pants for fall and winter, which means I wear them regularly once the weather is too cold for capri length pants.  

French Navy Calyer pants: tacky lounge pants for the win!

Like most people these days I discover new patterns via Instagram.  I saw a few pictures of Calyer pants sneak up before the pattern was put up for sale and I was already drooling at the lovely front, the spiraled side seams and the clever pockets.  Plus the fact of no closures on pants that look so stylish had me full of fancy aspirations.

I bought the fabric at The Fabric Store in Auckland to make these pants.  The fabric is a marled grey woven in a weird blend of merino, plus linen? silk? rayon?  who knows.  When I washed it the fabric kind of shrunk in on itself, getting a bit denser and rougher feeling.  It doesn't really have stretch, but it has a lot of mechanical give in the horizontal direction.  It has basically no drape.  The fabric is also super narrow.  I think I bought 1.5 or 2 meters, which is of course less than the pattern calls for.  The pattern calls for a lot of fabric because the back piece is very wide.  So, note the width of your fabric if you want to use less!  I could not fit the pieces across the width and had to cut my front legs in two pieces and make a seam just above the knees.  I actually quite like doing that and I think of it as a design feature, but if you aren't keen on such things, then ensure your fabric is wide enough to cut the back pieces on.

My sewing friend Tessa had made Calyer pants a few weeks ago so I saw her learning process as she didn't leave the seam allowance for the pockets and had to backtrack.  She also cut a size smaller than the size chart recommended.  (Size chart for her measurements were L, but the finished measurements suggested she'd be fine in a M, so that's what she cut.)  It was also very good to see her finished version as the pattern does not make clear that the pocket lining will be visible when the pants are worn.  Tessa's fabric was extra wide, so she could fit the pattern pieces on something like 1 meter of fabric!

The directions are so precise they are almost micromanaging.  However, this is an "advanced beginner" by which they mean intermediate pattern.  That is because the shape of the pattern pieces diverges from "standard" pants, and because the order of construction is original.  By precisely following the directions you are basically guaranteed a fantastic result.  Seriously.  These look amazing.  There is basically no spot that doesn't line up, no edge that's crooked.

As for me, I cut a size XS and I am glad of it.  I considered cutting the S.  My waist is 26-27 and hips 37. I am scared, because my Orla dress was fit for (and was given to) an 8-year-old.  So I was tempted to size up.  Truthfully though I think I had a psychosis moment because on the Orla dress size chart I was not an XS or whatever I cut, but something like an M, so that was my own mistake.

I made no changes to the pattern, and I used some faded rose coloured silk for the pockets and for the front waistband facing.  That was good as the nice stable fabric was easy to work with.  I liked the pop of colour which is subtle but blends in with grey.

I did these during my sewing day, so they took about a third of a day.  I had no problems and my only pause was when Tessa went out to buy my waistband elastic.  I also did not shorten the hems, though they are drafted for a person sized 5'6" and I am more like 5'4", the inseam seems fine on me.  If you are tall these will be slightly above ankle length.  I like the length as it is though.

All my photos are taken at the Mount, aka Mt Maunganui.  The pants did well for a movie night, followed by a morning stroll and a climb up to the top of the mount, though I was pretty sweaty by the top.  (Google says it's 231 meters up.)

My final thought was that the pants look so super cool lying on the floor but when I put them on, the gathering from the back elastic makes my bum look terrible.  They are not form fitting, and so they are kind of like a pair of classy lounge pants.  However then I realised that I basically live in things that don't fit very well which are takes on classy lounge pants.  Also, it was my own fault for not using drapey fabric.

I wore these to work and they were comfortable and made me happy (I am working night shifts and thus basically wear takes on "fancy lounge pants" in order to not wear scrubs.)  I don't plan to make more now, but if I made more I might take a tiny wedge out of the front waist just to dip it down in the centre front.  Other than that, and using a drapey fabric, I wouldn't make any changes.  I suppose theoretically I could size down from the S at the hips to XS at the waist, to decrease the amount of fabric entering the waistband gathers.  But I think first trying a lower profile fabric might make a difference.  So pay attention - if your fabric has a lot of body it will not lie flat due to the elastic!  Also make sure to leave precise seam allowances when sewing the pockets.

Overall I am really happy with these and the pattern.  It was sort of a mystifying experience as I went along but it came out great.  I still don't really get whether the weird angle at the hem of the pants mattered, but I guess it's good when life leaves us with a few unsolved mysteries.