Out of practice and not able to focus very well (I know I’m not the only one these days), I prepared to make some toiles, aka muslins, for some summer clothes I wanted to make. These are test versions of garments to check and correct a pattern’s fit. They also let you see if the pattern designs look as good on you as you thought they would, before cutting into the good stuff.
This video answers a lot of questions about muslins, toiles and “wearable toiles,” while this site offers a classic explanation.
You don’t always need to make a toile, but if you have fitting issues, or you’re out of practice, or if you’re going to be using expensive fabric, you’ll probably want to make one. It takes time, but it can save time - and heartache.
A few years back my toiles really were wearable (around the house, anyway), so I felt optimistic last spring when I headed over to Cape Cod to the two quilt shops I know over there. I wanted some inexpensive fabric that’s more fun to look at than plain ol’ muslin. (BTW, an old sheet works, too!) I came home with plenty to work with. In fact, I went a little crazy because I had a big agenda (a summer wardrobe) and getting a car reservation on the summer ferries can be challenging. Plus, there was a sale!
Tumbleweed is moving, so maybe I just got lucky with those $1.50/yd sale prices. Quiltcorner is a friendly place with good fabric and a small sale dept. These two shops will soon be just 8 miles apart in Sandwich. The next shop on the Cape is way out in Orleans.
Sadly, we don’t have a fabric shop on the island anymore, and while I appreciate that Granite has some things, it’s a five-and-dime. When I visit there, the ex-retailer in me always wants to straighten the bolts of fabric and turn them fold-side-up. Still, I’m glad they’re there for sewing emergencies.
To be successful in sewing for yourself, it’s important to Know Thyself: choose the right design for your personal style and practical needs, and the right fabric for the design. And make the size that matches your measurements, not the size you buy in the shops. (It is not the same!) And practice.
Since my excursion to the Cape shops, I’ve made 3 tops and a skirt that I hoped would be wearable toiles.
Years ago I made this skirt pattern and loved it. Despite an essays-worth of spectacularly laughable mistakes, I did finish the new skirt in the right size, only to discover that while it fits, I don’t like it on the new me. I love the fabric, so I’m going to make it into something else. A set of table napkins or backing for a small quilt, perhaps.
For top #1, I used an unusual woven fabric that I’ve been hoarding for 30 years from my own shop in Brooklyn - The Sewing Circle (RIP). While I love the fabric, this tee isn’t what I’d hoped it would be. I wear it anyway when it’s too hot to care that it’s kinda meh. The other two tops are disasters. Nice designs poorly rendered, which I cut out and sewed even though I could tell at the start that there would be problems with the patterns. Why do I not listen to my wise old self?
Like the skirt, top #2 is the wrong style for me now. I made it too big (ignoring the ease listed on the pattern notes), then took it apart and remade it into the next smaller size. Still, just wrong in so many ways. Murphy, my friend’s sweet dog, really liked it, though. I’m thinking of making him a toy from one of the sleeves.
Top #3 has also been dis-assembled. While making it I could see that all this practice was helping to refresh my skills, so it’s a nicely made bad design. I could make another shirt from its salvaged parts, or save it for patchwork.
If not great successes, they’re not really failures. The process is comforting, and practice is valuable, even essential.




I will use all the fabric one way or another. The blue fabric will work in this EPP (English Paper Piecing) thing I’m sewing by hand. I don’t know what this thing is yet, but it’s fun to do, especially on the ferry or at a coffee shop.
I must be distracted by something, because I sewed one EPP section in upside-down, ruining the design. It’s just practice, so does it matter? After an hour of grousing I ripped it out, turned it around and re-stitched it. Much better.
So if at first you don’t succeed, practice and practice again (and again). And keep on stitching!
It’s hard for me to imagine the sewing skills involved with making the pattern to make the pattern or ripping out something to remake. But like Elisa says…. It’s about the same thing in writing chapters. I sure wish I could operate a sewing machine like a word processor, though.
Words can be replaced if cut but fabric can’t; the mind must re-imagine what else it could be. My latest sewing endeavor was making a pocket for a sundress that I wished had one. The only thing that came out right is that I did manage to stitch it inside!