pluslovely.com

Over my recent summer holiday, I started sewing a toile of the Sandra Betzina Vogue Today’s fit jacket I fell in love with last year. I would normally try to avoid making a toile because in the past I’ve found it a frustrating waste of time.  However, this time, I’ve already discovered many benefits.  From grading between sizes and adjusting the pattern before even cutting fabric, to using stay tape, practising my topstitching, and thinking ahead to the final fabric choice, the toile has already proved worthwhile.

What is a toile?

In case you’re new to sewing, a toile is a “draft” version of a garment made with inexpensive fabric.  It is usually made with similar fabric to that which is planned to be used for the final version but not necessarily so.  It gives the sewist the chance to practice following the chosen pattern and working out any issues in the process.  It allows the sewist to check the garment will fit well and adjust if necessary.

While some might be confident enough to dive right in with their chosen “good” fabric, a toile is an opportunity to slow down and make important decisions about fabric and construction first.

Yes, making a toile does take time which can be frustrating but if you’re in unfamiliar territory with techniques required for the garment you are making or you’re not sure if you’ll like it when it is finished, making a toile can really pay off.

Background

If you haven’t already, you can read the story about my inspiration for this jacket “The Jacket Which Swishes and Stays on My Mind” and the lengths I went to attempting to copy the pattern so I could preserve the original and why that was so important “The Great Pattern Copying Adventure”.

Grading to fit my plus size body

When I originally saw the pattern for this jacket, I checked the sizing on the pattern and realised I came between sizes I and J.  Size I has bust 52, waist 47.5 and hips 54.  J has bust 55, waist 50.5 and hips 57.  I was ready to jump right in with the biggest size (J) and make adjustments afterwards like I usually would.

However, that approach is a bit hit and miss. I’ve often ended up undoing and redoing adjustments more than I’d like, and the results haven’t always been great.  This time, I wanted to get the fit right from the start.

I’ve never had a pattern graded specifically for me before. My sewing class tutor suggested we try grading.  I knew it wouldn’t require much as the pattern sizes were so close to my measurements so I decided to give it a go.

Grading the pattern

I’ll be honest: my sewing tutor did most of the grading for me. It didn’t feel like a proper lesson in how and why she made the adjustments she did but I could see the changes making sense. Watching the pieces take on “my” shape was a little thrilling, in a quiet, “curious anticipation” kind of way.

 My tutor even pinned the paper pattern pieces together for me to wear so we could decide on some options.  That was a new experience for me.

Finding my fit by adjusting and lengthening

One of the first really noticeable adjustments was lengthening some of the pattern pieces, especially the piece that goes from the shoulder to just below the bust. At first, I felt nervous about this.  I didn’t want to change the pattern too much and lose the look of Jenna’s jacket which I admired. However, once I put the paper pattern pieces on, I could see the longer length looked better for my frame.

A fellow sewist in my class who had been watching the fitting process from her sewing space across the room also gave her opinion.  She agreed the longer pieces were more flattering. That extra reassurance helped me commit to the change. It’s one of those moments that reminds me how valuable it can be to get a second pair of eyes on a project, even when you’re confident in your instincts.

Curtain fabric is perfect for a toile

After all the work with the paper pattern pieces, I was happy to be finally sitting at my machine with some fabric.

I had some old curtain fabric in my shed which I pulled out to make my toile.  I feel a little embarrassed admitting that!  The image of Maria in The Sound of Music sewing clothing from curtains for the children to play in pops into my head sometimes but I remind myself that the toile isn’t meant to be worn out. Its job is functional, not fashionable.

Having said that, if a toile looks good enough to wear out, why not?  This is a decision for later anyway.

The scary “advanced” label

Jenna warned me that this pattern was “advanced” and Vogue patterns have a reputation for being a bit more challenging than others.  I admit I approached it with a little caution and that’s part of the reason I decided to make a toile.  If you’re ever unsure about a garment, the skills involved or fit, then make a toile. 

This year (2026) will be my seventh attending dressmaking classes, which I think makes me a confident intermediate sewist.  I wouldn’t call myself advanced yet.

After sewing the top part of the jacket toile — the back and sides, front and sides, and the back yoke – and attaching the finished bottom fronts and backs to the top, I hadn’t found anything overly challenging.  In fact, it was satisfying seeing the shape start to emerge.

I don’t usually get a big “proud” moment from seams, but there was one curve that gave me a quiet thrill: turning it to the right side and seeing no pinches, no blips, just a smooth seam.

I was very conscious while sewing to keep the fabric flat under the needle, something I normally fuss with more on a “real” garment. That small perfection felt like a little reward for my patience and attention to detail, even though this is just a toile.

A wee challenge – stay tape

The next part of the toile was slightly trickier – applying stay tape along the shoulder and across the yoke. I’ve done this once before with a knit jacket.   For that I used plastic tape which was horrible. This time, I have a polyester/cotton mix tape that is wider, pre-shrunk, and much easier to manage.

Stay tape requires precision, so I measured carefully, used lots of pins and sewed slowly.

It was actually not as difficult as I thought. I’m hoping, if I decide I won’t wear the toile when it is finished, I can unpick the tape and reuse it.

Adjust as you go

A toile allows you to make adjustments.  The pattern had a place where fit could be tested.  I put the jacket on and my sewing tutor helped adjust under the arms where the toile looked a little big.  I have yet to attach the sleeves but once they are on, I can adjust fit again if necessary.

Practicing the details

One of the things that sets this jacket apart is the amount of topstitching. I’ve already done some on a couple of the seams I’ve completed, which has helped me practice and get a feel for how it will look on the final garment.

While doing a toile, it is a good idea to take a note of settings you have used as you sew.  I have a 9mm foot width.  I used the usual seam of 5/8 inch (1.5 cm) but for the seam topstitching, I moved the needle position to the right XX.  I have made a note of this so next time I do topstitching, I can use the same setting and all the top stitching on the seams will be uniform.

The jacket has a covered zip and a lining. While I have sewn these elements before on other garments, this toile will give me a chance to practice again and ensure my techniques are refined and ready for the final version.

The emotional journey

Right now, I’m feeling a mix of confidence, caution, and excitement.

I’m confident because the seams are coming together and so far, the process isn’t as tricky as I feared. I am still cautious because the “advanced” label is lingering in my mind, reminding me to stay alert. I’m excited because imagining the final jacket in the perfect fabric, finished and wearable, is inspiring me and pushing me forward.

Advice for fellow sewists

The best tip I’d offer is to get someone to take a photo of yourself wearing the toile. Looking in a mirror can give you some idea of what the garment will look like, a photo gives another perspective.

Sewing this toile is teaching me patience, focus, and the value of small, quiet victories. It’s also showing me that it’s okay to adapt and problem-solve along the way.

• Learn how to grade between sizes to get a good fit.  Get an experienced sewist to help.
• Try a toile first — it’s not just for beginners. It’s a valuable way to test adjustments, practise techniques and see how the jacket will look on your body.
• Grasp the challenge with both hands – even if the pattern is labelled “advanced”.  Don’t let intimidating labels stop you.  If you want this jacket, go for it.

Final thoughts

The Sandra Betzina Vogue jacket has been a wonderful journey so far — one of learning, experimentation and quiet victories. From grading the pattern, to experimenting with length and fit, this part of the project has been an immersive, thoughtful process.

I can’t wait to finish the toile, make any final adjustments, choose fabric and begin the final jacket. When it’s all done, I suspect it will teach me even more, such as the value of patience, attention to detail and following my instincts.

Join the conversation – leave a comment

Tell me about a time you were glad you made a toile.  How did the toile help shape your final garment, size, style, fabric choices, feature elements etc?  What have you learned from this post?  What would you like to see next?

My mission to preserve a precious out-of-print Sandra Betzina jacket pattern

Sewing isn’t always about stitching straight seams and measuring hems. Sometimes it’s about detective work, logistics and a surprising amount of road kilometres. My recent mission to copy (and therefore protect) my precious Sandra Betzina jacket pattern turned into an unexpected adventure.  To be honest, that makes it all the more satisfying.

This post may include affiliate links, meaning if you click through and make a purchase, I may earn a small commission, but it will not cost you any more than the normal price. This helps me continue to provide quality content on this website.

Falling in love with a Sandra Betzina pattern (and protecting it like treasure)

You may have read my recent post about Jenna’s jacket.  It’s the one I fell in love with and vowed to make one of my own.  Jenna made it using the Sandra Betzina “Today’s Fit” Vogue pattern V1494.  She said it was an “advanced” pattern but I am up for the challenge.

The pattern is now out of print and hard to get which of course made me want it even more. 

I managed to track the pattern down on eBay.  The seller advertised it for around $17 NZD.  However, add to that shipping, tariffs and exchange rates and … surprise!  Suddenly it was $77.

Worth it?  Absolutely!  Cutting it?  Oh gosh, no. Not when it’s that rare.

I even had ideas of becoming a collector of Sandra Betzina patterns but realised that would become rather expensive.  Something to keep in mind if I win “the big one” in Lotto.

How am I going to use it if I cannot cut it?

Tracing was my first plan. I stuck the tissue paper pattern onto my glass sliding door with Blu-Tack and taped tracing cloth over the top. Very clever in theory.  Very sweaty in practice. One tiny part of the pattern (the collar) took ages.  My arms were aching from trying to trace on a vertical surface and there were four giant sheets to be traced.

Last time I traced anything using this method, I was a whole lot younger, with stronger arms and a whole lot more patience.  How was I going to get through this?

It was time for Plan B.

Photocopying – the dream … and the detours

I’d previously had mixed results at my local copy place.  For one pattern I took there, the wide format printer obviously was not wide enough and slivers of the pattern were missing off one edge.  Frustrating!

I had more success at the same copy centre in Rolleston (about 150 km away) so, because it was a public holiday, I decided to take Dad for the drive.

The staff member who served me asked for my number, took the details of what I required and said they would get back to me.  I was looking forward to picking up the copied pattern later that afternoon when Dad and I headed home.

In the meantime, Dad and I had arranged to meet my brother and sister-in-law for lunch.  We met at a café at The Tannery (an upmarket shopping complex in Christchurch) where two of my favourite stores are located:

Sew n Co which specialises in quilting fabrics and stitching projects; and

The Fabric Store which has a huge range of beautiful dressmaking fabric. 

Disappointment and more disappointment

I was keen to have a look in both while waiting for the call from the copy centre.  I was disappointed to find both were closed for the holiday.

By late afternoon, I had not heard from the copy place so I phoned them to see how they were getting on with my pattern.  I was even more disappointing to hear they had not done the job.  Apparently, the staff member who operates the wide format printer was not working that day.  I wished they’d told me that earlier.  They said they would call me the next day.

Dad and I returned home empty-handed.  What a disappointment.

Questions of copyright

When the copy shop called, they told me they would not copy my pattern due to it being under copyright.

I had already contacted Sandra Betzina and asked for her permission to copy it. I received a reply from her personally. She said was happy for me to make a copy. Because Vogue is currently in liquidation, I figured there wouldn’t be any issues from them.

I politely quoted the NZ Copyright Act to the copy centre staff member — yes, you can copy a pattern for your own use, especially when it’s out of print. (If you are in a different country, you will need to check your own copyright law).

Copyright protects sewing patterns. Look at sections 43 and 43A of the New Zealand Copyright Act 1994. I’m no lawyer but the Act allows fair dealing for private study or research.  In practice, that covers making a single copy of a pattern for your own personal use. You just can’t sell, swap, or post that copy online. When you buy a pattern, you buy the right to use it to make garments, and that implicitly includes practical steps like tracing or photocopying the pieces so you don’t damage the original tissue. Also because the pattern is now out of print and so hard to get (let alone expensive if you can find one for sale) making a copy to use while keeping the original intact makes good sense.

The copy shop staff member listened to my explanation.  Then came the real reason. “It’s too delicate and we’re worried we’ll damage it.”

Preserving delicate tissue patterns

Fair enough. Tissue paper is basically a sneeze away from disintegrating.  I had already, sadly, torn the edges of the pattern in a couple of places while prising it off my sliding door after trying to trace it.

I strongly encourage you to remember this part of the law if you buy an out-of-print pattern and do not want to cut it, especially if you’ve paid as much for it as I did.  You can resell patterns.  Out of print ones are likely to become collectors’ items and go up in value.  That is why it is well worth preserving them in their original condition (including the paper envelope) if you can.

The Christchurch breakthrough

After a bit of Googling, I eventually found CQ Print in Christchurch that had the correct equipment to copy the pattern.  I gave them a call and was reassured they already have experience copying tissue paper sewing patterns.  This time I took Mum with me for the drive to Christchurch. Finding the shop was an adventure on its own (isn’t it always?).

On arrival, the manager showed me the method that would be used to copy my precious pattern.  It involves a big, flat card with a plastic layer placed over the top. The tissue slips safely in between the card and the plastic, the whole thing goes through the machine and nothing gets scrunched or torn. Being shown this process really set my mind at ease.

The copy shop printed two full copies so I could cut one and keep one pristine, meaning I wouldn’t have to copy from the original again. Then the cherry on top.  They put the digital files on a USB stick for me to keep forever. Backup for the backup!  It felt like sewing victory at its finest.

Ready for grading, ready for the toile, ready for the fun part

The last sewing class for 2025 rolled around and with the pattern pieces safe and sound, my sewing tutor helped me grade between sizes.  We added a bit of length to the seam under the bust and at the sides and a little more width at the sides front and back.

The tutor pinned the pattern pieces together and I put them on to give a rough idea of fit.

Then I cut a toile using a beautiful copper fabric I’ve been saving.  It is actually curtain fabric but perfectly wearable if the toile turns out okay.

I laid out the pattern ready to cut.  It was a bit of a squeeze fitting it on the fabric.  No room for pattern matching.  I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out before choosing a fabric to make the “real thing”.

Lessons learned

Sometimes sewing is straight-forward.  Sometimes it’s a saga and sometimes it’s a saga with a road trip … or two. 

I learned that research pays off if you want to find the best way to copy a pattern rather than relying on the everyday copy store which might not have the specialist equipment needed for the task.

In total, I paid $323 for that pattern – petrol at $90 (for both trips to Christchurch and back – thank goodness I have a hybrid car!), $140 for photocopying, a $16 USB stick and don’t forget the $77 I paid for the original pattern – but oh, the satisfaction when everything finally lines up.

Talk to me

Tell me about a time when you paid more for a pattern than you originally expected.  Do you have a Sandra Betzina Vogue Today’s Fit pattern you treasure? What have you done to keep it in good condition so you can use it again and again?

I spotted the most gorgeous deep teal linen and knew it had to be a dress. Cue the Sydney Designer Dress from Style Arc, a few naughty-corner moments, some clever pleats, and a high-low hem that dances with every step. From panic over too much fabric to the thrill of a better fit, this dress is all about colour, shape and the joy of finishing a project that is truly my own.

This post may include affiliate links, meaning if you click through and make a purchase, I may earn a small commission, but it will not cost you any more than the normal price. This helps me continue to provide quality content on this website.

Linen is a great choice

It is a while ago that I bought this linen but I’m pretty sure I bought it from The Fabric Store. They have a great range of linens both plain and patterned.

Linen has always been one of my favourite fabrics.  There is something about its light, drapey feel, the way it breathes and the subtle texture that makes it so satisfying to work with. When I spotted a gorgeous deep teal linen, I knew it was calling my name. The colour is hard to describe.  It is a rich mix of dark aqua with a hint of greeny-blue and I couldn’t resist it. Fabric like this demands attention, and I was ready for the challenge.

The Sydney Designer Dress

It was definitely the fabric that seduced me before the pattern but it didn’t wait in my stash long before I found the perfect pattern for it.  

My inspiration for the dress came from seeing a woman in a café wearing what is known as a cocoon shaped dress.  It often happens that I get inspiration from what others are wearing then go looking for a pattern to make one for myself.

The Sydney Designer Dress pattern by Style Arc follows the same cocoon style as the dress that inspired me.  It has three panels in the front, two in the back, short sleeves and a narrow hem band that swoops lower in the back. I was already picturing long summer evenings and workdays made brighter by this dress.

The Sydney Designer Dress from Style Arc has a curved neckline and an empire-style waist, although on me it sits more across the apex of my bust than under it. 

The café-customer’s dress was a soft pink gingham linen – so in right now.  However, I knew my gorgeous green-blue/aqua linen would be lovely made as a Sydney Designer Dress.

Not as easy as it looks

The dress went together easily.  I loved sewing those long seams with their gentle curves.

Of course, my sewing projects rarely go smoothly and while I had lots of confidence in this one, it turned out I picked the wrong size,  a common error for me lately.

The pattern size chart indicated size 24 had a bust only slightly bigger than mine.  I thought it would only need a slight adjustment from the waist and hips.  I was wrong. 

The dress was enormous!  Yes it fitted in the bust, shoulders and slee`ves but the shape in the remainder of the dress made it look like I was wearing a tent. 

Into the naughty corner

With the help of my now-retired tutor, pins were added to take it in and suggestions made. I no longer felt confident.  The dress had three front panels which I thought meant the risk of a wonky shape if I only took in two seams. I knew I needed a serious adjustment but the fear of ruining the gorgeous linen sent the dress straight to the naughty corner. A little sulk space for projects that need extra TLC.

Sydney’s second try

Fast forward to my new tutor, who is also the owner of the Timaru Sewing Centre where the classes are held. The first thing she said? “Put it on.” Just as I feared, even with the pins the previous tutor and I put in the seams, the dress was still very big.  We carefully changed the pin placement and ensured the same amount was marked for removal on each front seam.

Another try on with the new pin placement revealed the pockets had been awkwardly placed in the front panels, making the shape bulky and the front heavy. I decided to remove the pockets.  With them gone, the fabric could finally drape like it was meant to.

Drastic overlocking

The back needed no adjustments.  Like I said, the bust and sleeves were already near enough to perfect. Then came the scary part, overlocking away inches of fabric.

I took off three inches on each front/side panel. It was a huge amount to remove but what a difference it made.  I slowly saw the dress transform. The “tent” was gone and in its place was a garment that felt like it could be worn with confidence.

Pleats to the rescue

However, it wasn’t quite perfect yet.  Even after the adjustments, the fabric didn’t sit right in the front. The solution? A pleat in the hem band. At first, I hesitated.  It made the hem tighter and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to walk with my usual stride.  It also made the dress slightly harder to pull over my head and bust.  There were no zips or fasteners to undo to give me more wiggle room.

I was worried the pleat would look like an obvious fix rather than meant to be.

I set the project aside between sewing classes.  Not in the naughty corner again.  I was determined to finish it this time.

Clever thinking

When I returned to class the following week, I had a clever idea.  Why not add bands with pleats to the sleeves? Now it wasn’t a fix, it was a design feature. Problem solved. 

Pleats added, the sleeve change looked intentional, polished and completely “me.”

The joy of sewing linen

Working with linen is such a delight. It behaves well on the sewing machine.  I would describe it as “crispy”.  It is not slippery like satin and not stiff like denim. To wear, it drapes beautifully and feels light. Wrinkles? Absolutely but I’ve learned to embrace them. Folding the dress into a project bag meant several rounds of ironing during the making process, but those long, clean seams made it every round or ironing worth the effort.

Compliments on the colour

Wearing the Sydney Designer Dress for the first time was so satisfying. I received lovely comments about the colour.  The deep teal really does turn heads and a friend who understands style told me it was flattering. I think she meant the colour, not the fit.

My mum? She was brutally honest: “It’s very big” and “it’s very see-through.” No compliments at first, but hey, we all know mums speak the truth. It did make me think I need a slip under it. I’m planning a Victorian cotton slip, just enough to smooth things out without changing the shape.

As for it being “very big” well, I’d rather have some room in a garment than feel squeezed and uncomfortable and there is certainly no give in linen – it needs breathing space.  Having something big and floaty around me makes me feel feminine and graceful.

Lessons learned

This dress reminded me of a key sewing truth.  Don’t be afraid to alter a garment if it’s not working. There’s always a way to make it fit your body, rather than trying to fit your body into the garment.

I also rediscovered the pure satisfaction of finishing a project. It had been a while since I completed a dress I was truly happy with. The naughty corner is a part of the process sometimes but seeing the final result makes every challenge worth it.

Another learning was that I need to take more photos before the alterations and during the making process.  Even getting a photo of my inspiration would have been useful.  I will try to remember for the future.

Looking forward

Knowing how much alteration the original dress required, I am curious to try the recently-released Sydney Designer Dress Extension Pack from Style Arc. It promises a reduced volume (thank goodness) and a better fit.  It will be fascinating to see the difference. I’m excited to experiment with its different neckline options, sleeve options but with the same cocoon-inspired shape that I like.

I’m still thinking about what fabric I might choose this time.  I love linen so much, that might be my go to for the second time around.

What about the pattern?

I’ve said it before.  Many people think Style Arc patterns are a bit scant on detail.  The step by step instructions are easy to follow but they do assume you have some construction knowledge.  The diagrams are sometimes a bit confusing.

I agree but from what I’ve seen of Style Arc’s recent improvements (more photos on the website than line drawings), this might move into better instructions too. 

Pattern makers need to understand that not all people who sew have all the skills.  Providing step by step instructions with clear illustrations will lead to a greater level of success, followed by people buying more patterns.

Overall result

This deep teal linen cocoon-style dress is more than just fabric and seams. It’s a celebration of perseverance, problem-solving and joy in creating something uniquely mine. The pleats, the high-low hem and especially the colour make it a dress I am proud to wear. From naughty corner to completed showstopper, this dress reminds me why I love sewing.  It is the thrill of the fabric, the challenge of the fit and the delight of going from inspiration to completed creation.  I know I have room to improve but for now.  I’m really happy with my new dress.

I recently read The Other Side of the Coin: The Queen, the Dresser and the Wardrobe followed by Dressing the Queen: The Jubilee Wardrobe, both by Angela Kelly. I admit there isn’t a plus size topic here. However, both books are a rich tapestry of royal fashion history, sewing insight and intimate glimpses into Queen Elizabeth II’s wardrobe.

A sewing class recommendation turned reading adventure

A fellow seamstress from my Wednesday night sewing class mentioned the book Dressing the Queen. For several months that recommendation stayed with me until I finally finished my bedside reading stack and did a quick search of my local library’s catalogue. I was able to not only borrow Dressing the Queen but I also discovered The Other Side of the Coin: The Queen, the Dresser and the Wardrobe which is a memoir by the same author, Angela Kelly. While Dressing the Queen was published first, I chose to start with The Other Side of the Coin.

Professionalism meets royal protocol

Right from the early pages of The Other Side of the Coin, Angela Kelly radiates warmth and grounded professionalism. I was floored by how she came to serve the Queen. Her commitment to confidentiality in a previous housekeeping role won the monarch’s trust and from there she became an indispensable presence. Kelly balances expertise and humour with grace which shine through in her storytelling.

Diplomatic details

One of my favourite takeaways is the cultural thoughtfulness infused into the Queen’s wardrobe. I was moved by stories like the 2,000-plus silk shamrocks sewn into a garment the Queen wore for a Northern Ireland engagement along with a bespoke Irish harp brooch. Another revealed beautifully bead-worked collars and cuffs on an outfit worn in Canada were crafted by that country’s Mi’kmaq elders. These details underscore how clothing can be a deeply diplomatic gesture as much as an aesthetic one.

Repetition then richer layers

Reading Dressing the Queen after The Other Side of the Coin, I initially sensed some repetition in narrative but then discovered new depths, particularly in the exquisite detail of hat construction. The Other Side of the Coin felt more personal. Dressing the Queen offered the nuts and bolts, literally, of royal garment making.

Sewing inspiration without the hats (for now!)

As a sewist, I wasn’t inspired to learn how to make a hat (though I did admire how wonderfully they help the Queen stand out). Instead, I found myself rethinking colour, texture and how different fabrics behave on the body. That subtle shift in perception is a powerful creative nudge. I was left with a new understanding of the choices I make for my own wardrobe.

The Other Side of the Coin has details of how and where fabric is sourced including stores of fabric gifted to the queen. Imagine it – a royal fabric stash! The author writes about how fabrics are tested to ensure they remain wrinkle free and will be fit for purpose.

Royal fashion history, sewing muse and a peek inside the palace

If I were to pitch these books to other Plus Lovely readers, I’d emphasise how they excel across three fronts: royal fashion history, sewing inspiration, and a genuine glimpse into the Queen’s world. A landmark wardrobe isn’t merely about glamour, it’s about legacy, preparation and personal expression on a global stage.

Surprise highlight: weighted hems!

Here’s a delightful titbit that had me chuckling with admiration – the secret of weighted hems sewn into the Queen’s skirts to prevent unwanted wind lift. What a practical design trick disguised within elegance! I also smiled at the story of the Queen’s secret desire to pose like a fashion model with her hands in her pockets.

Which book to start with?

If you’re reading both books, start with The Other Side of the Coin. It’s deeper in narrative and personality. Dressing the Queen is still worthwhile and beautiful in its own right. It is a quicker read and more of a coffee table book than a readable memoir. In my view, it is an excellent close-up perspective of the garments made for the Queen’s jubilee celebrations, including the one which made an impressive entrance to the Olympic games via helicopter.

It was difficult to pick my favourite of the Queen’s outfits featured in the books. Her winter Canadian outfit including high boots impressed me as a modern and practical look.

Summing up in two sentences

These books showcase an extraordinary attention to detail, a thoughtful cataloguing of outfits to ensure each was worn with purpose and personality. Throughout both books, the Queen’s elegant, understated grace permeates every story.

Vogue’s view

While some criticise the Other Side of the Coin as failing to be the expose readers might expect from the Queen’s dresser, fashion heavyweight Vogue praised the book. It described it as a delightfully engaging backstage tour of royal dressing. The review says the book highlights Kelly’s warm and humorous anecdotes from purple hairpiece pranks to recreating the 163-year-old christening gown

Talk to me

Have you read Dressing the Queen or The Other Side of the Coin? Did Angela Kelly’s backstage stories surprise or inspire you? Maybe you’ve tried a sewing hack from the Queen’s wardrobe (hem weights, anyone?). Drop a comment below. I can’t wait to chat about royal elegance, sewing secrets and more with you!

As a plus-size woman, finding ready-to-wear garments that fit both your style and your body can be an ongoing challenge.  I know when I find a garment I love, I want to buy it in all the colours.  However, when I go back, I often find only one left in my size. That’s where Clone Your Clothes by Claire-Louise Hardie comes in.  This book is an excellent resource for anyone who loves to sew and wants to recreate those wardrobe staples that fit perfectly.

My first experience of cloning clothes

Several years ago I had a flatmate who copied her store-bought clothes to make new ones either exactly the same or adding her own flair.  It was a fascinating process to watch.  While at that time I had been doing a bit of sewing from commercial patterns, I wasn’t confident enough to try making my own patterns.  Now I’ve had five or six years sewing garments, I started thinking again about what my flatmate was doing.  I searched my local library catalogue for “pattern making” and the book Clone Your Clothes popped up.

Publication details

Clone Your clothes is a David and Charles book published in 2024.  The author is Claire-Louise Hardie.  Some of you might recognise the name.  She is the producer of the Great British Sewing Bee so you can be confident she knows her stuff about garment construction and pattern making.

You can buy the book at www.davidandcharles.com and there are other sewing-related books on the website that would fit well into any sewist’s book shelf.  The Dressmaking Technique Bible and The Beginner’s Guide to Dressmaking are two of them.

What does it mean to clone your clothes?

Clone Your Clothes offers an innovative approach to pattern-making by teaching you how to replicate your favourite garments from your own wardrobe. Whether it’s a cherished t-shirt, a beloved pair of trousers or a perfectly fitting skirt, the book shows you how to turn clothes you already have into patterns you can use to make more the same.

For a plus-size sewist, this can be especially helpful. Finding patterns that truly fit our curves can be tricky but by using the clothes we already know work for us as templates, we can ensure a better fit, greater confidence and a wardrobe full of personalised, handmade pieces.

I need this book

My initial search in my local library catalogue offered Clone Your Clothes as an e-book.  I never like reading books on my phone or laptop so I contacted the library and asked if it could buy the “real” book to add to its collection.  Half an hour later, I got a call from the collection manager saying she thought it would be a great addition to the library and she put a hold on it for me so I could be first to borrow it when it arrived.

When it became available, I grabbed it straight away.  The initial loan period wasn’t long enough for me to fully take in all the techniques in the book so I’ve decided to buy a copy for myself.  I wholeheartedly and enthusiastically recommend it to you.  This is a great addition to any sewist’s book collection.

Cloning school covers the basics

The book begins with a section called “Cloning School”.  It sets the stage for all the techniques and tools you’ll need to make patterns from your garments. This chapter covers how to first analyse a garment and the order for putting the various parts together.

It includes a checklist to ensure you’ve got everything sorted before you start.  It gives an overview of the techniques taught in the book and how to select the best method to copy the garment you’ve selected.

The direct measuring method is perfect for simple shapes

The first method introduced in the book is direct measuring which is ideal for simple garments with parts that have straight lines like cuffs or waistbands. For example, a skirt with an elasticated waistband is perfect for practicing this technique. By measuring the dimensions of the garment, you can begin to replicate its structure.

While it’s tempting to just buy a pattern, the beauty of direct measuring is that it takes the guesswork out of re-creating a garment you already wear and love. You get to use your own measurements from something that fits you perfectly, ensuring your new creations will be equally comfortable.

The tracing method

The tracing method is perfect for more complex shapes like sleeves, necklines, darts and pleats. The book uses a striped t-shirt as an example.  It emphasises the importance of understanding fabric grain and how to align patterns to it.

This method highlights the beauty of paying attention to details that commercial patterns sometimes overlook. By tracing the garment and then transferring the measurements to pattern paper, you can recreate the exact fit of your favourite pieces with precision.

Creating different shapes using overdraping

Clone Your Clothes recommend using the overdraping technique for garments with intricate details such as cowlnecks, waterfall drapes, and frills. This method involves draping fabric over a dress form and pinning it into place, then tracing it to create your pattern.  The technique can also be used flat if you don’t have a dress form.

This method gives you the flexibility to tweak designs as you go. It’s great for adding extra flair to a garment or experimenting with different silhouettes before committing to fabric.

Transferring the design to paper

This chapter of Clone Your Clothes shows how to true up seamlines which might be a little shaky from the copying process. It demonstrates how to match seams from one side of a garment to the other and how to neaten curved and straight edges.  The book also gives instructions on how to add seam allowances.  You add pattern markings (such as notches and fold lines) throughout the process.

The crucial fit test

You make a toile—a test garment from inexpensive fabric—to assess the fit and make any necessary adjustments before cutting into your precious fabric.

While it can be time-consuming, making a toile is essential to ensure the pattern you’ve cloned fits you just as well as the original garment. The book uses a dressmaking form to make and adjust a toile but if you don’t have one, you can get another sewing friend who knows how to make adjustments to help while you wear the toile. 

This part of the process is particularly helpful for plus-size sewists as it allows us to adjust the fit for our unique body shapes and ensure the final garment will be flattering and comfortable.

From clone to capsule wardrobe

The final section of Clone Your Clothes, called design school, is one of the most exciting parts of the book. Here, you’ll learn how to take your cloned patterns and customize them to create your own capsule wardrobe. It includes five projects to test your skills including a camisole top, wrap skirt, shirt, trousers and a dress. For each project, the book offers three additional suggestions to redesign the initial garment.

The book encourages you to make small design tweaks which is a great way to create multiple versions of your favourite garments. For a plus-size wardrobe, this could mean creating a range of comfortable, stylish pieces that all fit together seamlessly.

Is Clone Your Clothes right for you?

If you’re a beginner sewist, this book will give you solid knowledge about the cloning method of pattern-making. However, I’d recommend having some basic sewing experience before attempting to clone your clothes. You need to have a good understanding of garment construction.

That said, if you’ve sewn a few garments and you love the idea of recreating your wardrobe favourites, then Clone Your Clothes is a must-read.  If you follow the step-by-step illustrated instructions and take things slowly and carefully, you’ll soon be turning your most-loved pieces into patterns and creating your own custom wardrobe.

My best takeaway from the book

I’m really excited about learning how to clone my clothes. However, I’m a bit nervous too. One day I’ll take that first step.

The back cover of the book says: “By the end of this book, you’ll be able to confidently create bespoke patterns from your favourite clothes.”  Even though I found some of the techniques in the book a little tricky the book has QR codes you can scan to access 11 demonstration videos.  Brilliant!  I just need more practice.

Final thoughts

For anyone interested in pattern-making, sewing or simply creating clothes that fit perfectly, Clone Your Clothes by Claire-Louise Hardie is a helpful resource. It gives you the knowledge and skills to replicate your favourite garments and customise them to suit your unique body and style.

Whether you’re a seasoned sewist or just starting out, this book is an investment that will pay off in your sewing journey. If you’re tired of searching for the perfect fit in stores or can’t find patterns that suit your size, Clone Your Clothes empowers you to recreate your favorite garments and transform them into pieces that are uniquely yours.

Ready to get started? Grab a copy of Clone Your Clothes, and let’s get cloning!

I let out a little squeal when I saw this news.  The largest exhibition of Queen Elizabeth II’s wardrobe is about to go on display.  It sounds like a dream come true for anyone with a sewing machine, a love of fashion or just a bit of royal curiosity.

The exhibition, Style & Society: Dressing the Queen, will take place across two royal residences – the Palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh and Buckingham Palace. It brings together more than 200 outfits and accessories worn by Queen Elizabeth II during her reign.  It includes everything from glittering gowns to tartan skirts.  Even the Queen’s hats and handbags will be displayed. It’s not just a fashion timeline, it’s a fabric-covered story of an era.

Caught my eye for good reason

It’s no surprise this caught my eye. I’m currently devouring The Other Side of the Coin by Angela Kelly, one of Her Majesty’s long-time dressers and designers. I’ve also got Dressing the Queen (by the same author) on the go. I’ll be sharing full book reviews soon here on Plus Lovely.  The behind the scenes look at how these garments were designed, made and selected for each occasion is absolutely fascinating. If you’re anything like me and a little bit sewing obsessed or a little bit voyeuristic, you’d be hooked too.

What you’ll see

This exhibition promises more than just pretty frocks. It’s a carefully curated journey through the Queen’s style milestones such as her coronation gown, Jubilee ensembles, state visit showstoppers and even some of the daywear worn for public walkabouts.

There are also behind-the-scenes gems like original designer sketches, swatches and correspondence about colour and protocol. The planning and precision that went into every outfit, from diplomatic symbolism to embroidery choices, feels like a masterclass in considered clothing.  I think that’s what sets it apart. The Queen didn’t just wear clothes. She used them to communicate, to comfort and to carry tradition.

Would I go? In a heartbeat!

Will I get to go? Probably not, unless my bank manager wants to treat me (highly unlikely but worth a try). If I did manage to make the trip, I know exactly what I’d be most excited about – the more modern outfits and of course the fabric choices. What were the textures like? What kind of lining? What kind of weight?

It’s one thing to see an outfit on the news but to stand in front of it, imagining the seam lines, the under-structure and the design choices, now that’s next level. I doubt they’ll let anyone get close enough to touch the fabric though.  Rightly so.  Could you imagine the chaos? Regardless, I think it would still feel like standing in the presence of quiet, stitched history.

Through a sewist’s eyes

I can’t help imagining what we might learn if we could peek inside a hem or feel the hand of the fabric. Were the shoulder pads stiff or soft? Was the interfacing fused or stitched? Did the linings get swapped out seasonally? It’s the kind of detail only a fellow sewist obsesses over but I think many Plus Lovely readers will relate. There’s so much storytelling in the structure of a garment and the Queen’s wardrobe would have been tailored to perfection, inside and out.

Fashion but make it royal

This exhibition isn’t just about fashion. It’s about identity, duty, diplomacy and personal style. It’s a visual diary of a woman who knew exactly how powerful clothes could be and used them masterfully for more than 70 years.

Even better? There’s a companion book to go with it. Style & Society: Dressing the Queen has been released to coincide with the exhibition, offering even more insight into Her Majesty’s style choices, tailoring secrets and the role fashion played throughout her reign. I’ll definitely be adding it to my reading pile (alongside the Angela Kelly titles).

Let’s be honest, if the Queen had walked out in “invisible cloth” like that poor Emperor from The Emperor’s New Clothes, she wouldn’t have been politely applauded. There would’ve been headlines, helicopters and at least four backup handbags deployed for coverage. Real royalty understands that looking the part matters. Queen Elizabeth II nailed it every time.

Let’s dream a little

So even if most of us can’t make it there in person, we can still soak up some inspiration from afar. I’ll be keeping a close eye on the coverage and dreaming up a few Plus Lovely-inspired makes along the way.

I’d love to know, if you could see one royal outfit in person, which would it be?  Better yet, what outfit inspired by the Queen’s timeless style would you love to sew?

You may have read the story about the naughty corner. It’s a dark place at the bottom of my sewing room cupboard where UFOs (unfinished objects) go when they frustrate me. Today, I’m sharing the tale of one of my long-term naughty corner “inmates.”

My Jude Jeans from Closet Core Patterns have been sitting in the naughty corner for a while now, just waiting for a second chance.

I started these jeans with so much excitement. The Jude Jeans is a beautiful pattern and I loved seeing plus-size women wearing them on the Closet Core Patterns website.

The fit that didn’t fit

While we’re talking about sizes, Closet Core seems to have a pretty good range into plus sizes. I highly recommend them. Unfortunately, they don’t have an affiliate programme, so I’m not earning anything by singing their praises — this is just my honest opinion (as always).

I was sewing a size 28. According to the pattern size chart, that should fit my 50” waist and 56” hips. Technically, the size 28 is drafted for a 50” waist and 58” hips, so they would need to be tweaked for fit.

The problem was, after almost finishing the jeans (pockets, zipper fly, waistband and all), I tried them on and realised they were just a bit too big. I would have expected the issue to be in the hips, given the measurement difference, but actually it was in the centre back and waist.

Facing the alteration anxiety

I was proud of the work I’d done and the thought of unpicking seams to fix the gape at the back made me anxious.

Yes, I’d known they were likely going to need some taking in before I even started. Maybe I should have graded the pattern beforehand but my usual practice is to finish the garment in the size the pattern indicates for me and then make alterations.  That way I’m not only learning how to put a garment together but also how to alter it to fit.

Wrestling a bear

Actually I really dislike making alterations.  Friends ask me if I’ll do alterations for them and I refuse.  I do my Mum’s ironing and sometimes repair little things for her and Dad but that is my limit.

With the Jude Jeans, that creeping “too hard” feeling took over. I knew the waistband needed to be altered but the thought of cutting it and putting a seam in it filled me with dread  The only alternative was undoing the entire waistband (and probably the fly and pockets) and doing it again.

My sewing tutor suggested unpicking a few inches of the waistband and down the back seam an inch or so below a pin she’d placed as a marker.  Undoing all the top stitching as well as the seam stitching was difficult. Honestly, I felt like I was wrestling a bear!

Straight into the naughty corner

A younger classmate often says, “Everything you make always fits first time, while I always have to make alterations.” Of course, that’s not true. She clearly hasn’t seen my naughty corner!

She made the comment on the last of my eight weeks’ sewing lessons.  I packed up in despair and decided to try and finish the Jude Jeans at home.

Once I’d finished the unpicking, the seams looked awful. I’m not going to sugarcoat it — I felt really discouraged. I even groaned and shook my head a bit. Confusion and exasperation settled in. The naughty corner felt like the only option.

Originally I thought the back seam was flat felled and the way take it in and redo the seam confuse med.

I decided to look for a YouTube video that might help me figure this out. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my sewing tutor’s instructions. With her years of experience, I trust her completely. That said, at home, I’m on my own except for YouTube.

I found this video from Notches Sewing. I had some old jeans at home that no longer fit and were pretty worn out anyway, so I decided to practice the method on those before going back to my Jude Flare Jeans.  Then I discovered the seam was not flat felled after all.  I was possibly stressing over nothing.

Ready to try again

Finishing these jeans would feel like a real victory, not just over the fabric and stitching but over the naughty corner itself. It would be a big boost to my sewing mojo and a reminder that the projects I think are “too hard” sometimes just need a little more love and patience.

Part of sewing your own clothes, especially as a plus-size sewist, is accepting that things aren’t always perfect the first time. Patterns are a guide, not gospel. Bodies come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes, it’s about perseverance and a little creativity with fitting.

This term, I’m going to tackle my Jude Jeans head-on. I’ve been motivated by the challenge, the pride in what I’ve already sewn, and the desire to rescue what would otherwise be a waste of beautiful denim. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t throw it away, I would use it to make something crafty.  However, the jean deserve a second chance.

Join the challenge

No longer will my Jude Jeans languish in the naughty corner. Check back at Plus Lovely for part two of the Jude Jeans revival story.

What’s the hardest UFO currently in your naughty corner or too-hard basket? Leave me a comment and tell me all about it. I challenge you to have another go. Don’t give up. I guarantee you’ll feel great when you get it finished.

Every sewist has one. Yours might be a basket, bag, drawer or plastic box. Some call it the too hard basket or UFOs (unfinished objects). Mine is affectionately known as the naughty corner. However, is it the projects that need discipline or me?

A real place for real projects

In my sewing room, the naughty corner is a very real place, not metaphorical at all. It is the cupboard which is literally in the corner of the room.

It is where projects go when I feel stuck on them or when something has gone wrong. Sometimes I can tell they are not going to fit quite right so I stop sewing and into the naughty corner they go.

Projects that have frustrated me or confused me go into the naughty corner. Sometimes I just run out of steam or more truthfully, run out of patience.

Sent down like a criminal to prison

This might make you laugh. In New Zealand’s High Court in Auckland, in the dock, there is a trap door with stairs leading down to the cells. Years ago, when someone was sentenced to imprisonment, they were literally “sent down” the stairs. I think the stairs and trap door are still there but no longer used.

In a way, my naughty corner is a bit like that. The project gets “sent down” when it is not behaving. Most of the projects in my naughty corner are still in their special project bags, buried under a big bag of fabric scraps. They start at the top of the pile and somehow, often after I have been rummaging for craft supplies, they end up on the floor of the cupboard. There they lay, hidden beneath layers of good intentions, banished out of sight.

Letting it breathe

I let the project sit for a bit and give myself time to reset. Often it is several months before I pull a project out when I have a new plan or just a bit more determination.

Another common trigger for sending things into the naughty corner is the end of term. I go to a weekly sewing class that runs in eight-week blocks. If something is still unfinished by 9pm at the end of week eight’s class, into the naughty corner it goes. Projects get abandoned in the naughty corner in favour of a fresh exciting project for the new term. The new term feels so full of promise. The old projects just slip away – from the top of my scraps and craft supplies pile to the naughty corner at the bottom of the cupboard. Down they go.

A strategic pause not a failure

I do not put things in the naughty corner because I have failed. Mostly it is because I need a break from the chaos. You will know what I mean if you have tried to power through a tricky project and it keeps getting worse. I remember one term, on the last class of the eight-week block, I was trying to finish a garment. There were just ten minutes of the class to go. I had already spent time refilling an empty bobbin, then the sewing machine needle broke. It felt like the machine was telling me, “that is enough for now” so into the naughty corner the project went.

If I am truly motivated to finish a project, I will. Not even broken needles, unpicking seams or resewing the same section for the fourth time will stop me. However, if frustration is taking over, there is no shame in putting a project aside. The naughty corner lets me breathe, reflect and regain my spark.

A space for second chances

Of course I would like everything to be perfect, finished on time, with no drama and no detours, with the finished project fitting as it should. Sewing does not work that way and neither do I.

I have come to realise the naughty corner is not a place of shame. It is a place for second chances. Yes, I might need a little help and that is the good thing about sewing, you do not have to do it alone.

My naughty corner has a rule. There is a limit to the number of projects in the naughty corner. It does not fit more than three projects. If I put a project in the naughty corner, then one that has been in there for a while has to come out to be finished. No excuses. Otherwise, the pile can get overwhelming and nobody needs that kind of pressure from their hobby.

A quiet reclaiming

The next sewing class starts this week and I have pulled the three projects out of my naughty corner. I am re-reading the patterns, trying them on and figuring things out. This is the term of finishing things. A reset, a quiet reclaiming of the work I started and still believe in.

You cannot punish a sewing project. It is just fabric and thread. It does not have feelings so the naughty corner is not going to hurt it and it will not hurt you. There is no guilt about the naughty corner.

Give yourself permission to take a step back from projects that are not going well. When you have the energy, unpick those seams, replace the sewing machine needle, give it another go.

Finishing with fresh eyes

Do not think of it as failure but as part of the creative process. When the time is right, look at it with fresh eyes. Finish it. Wear it. Love it. Nothing beats the feeling of turning something that once felt impossible into something finished and fabulous.

What is in your naughty corner?

Do you have a naughty corner or maybe a too hard basket that is quietly gathering UFOs with potential? I would love to hear about it. Whether it is a zipper that went rogue, a top that turned out too tight or just something that lost its sparkle. You are not alone.

Leave a comment. No judgment, just real talk from one sewist to another. Let us swap stories and cheer each other on.