Tag mistakes

How many tries?

Jennifer Kanter

Started drafting a custom pattern for 16th century pair of bodies, using the bara method.

My tip to anybody doing this: Read the instructions. Then read them again. Making the tapes isn’t hard. No math whatsoever. Just wrap a ribbon around the body, mark it, and fold the ribbon to add more marks per the instructions. It IS however, a very precise process, and it’s easy to make the fold wrong. Ask me how I know…

My first set of bara tapes. Notice these are all hot pink.

The bara method was fairly straightforward once I got the hang of it. Make a starting point on blank paper. Measure out from that point with the specified tape and mark that point. Connect as directed. Repeat. Draft 1 came out like this. I’m a little skeptical because it’s not shaped precisely like the drawing. I suspect alterations will be needed bc of my fluffy fun-sized stature.

Draft 1: Very wide. Very skinny. Very Demure.

After sleeping on it I decided to check my tapes and draft. And then got a message from Mistress Sibilla, expert at this method, noting where it was shaped wrong. So I checked the draft (tapes used correctly) and then checked the tapes themselves. Oops. 2 out of 4 tapes redrawn and on to draft 2.

Draft 2: Much better now that I have my tapes done right

With draft 2 looking more promising, I made a muslin. Meh?

That’s a lot of extra fabric…
After some pinning (thanks, Brian!), it was better, but still not right

I’m going to redraw it from scratch and try again tomorrow. Maybe after making a new chest tape with the girls on lockdown in a good sports bra. Third time is the charm?

Cutting day. And lesson learned #1

Jennifer Kanter
Cutting begins. Looks pretty normal, right? Only if you’re a 21st century sewist. Le sigh.

I’m clever. I read the book before I started, so I should be familiar with the process Master Jose outlined. I have pattern pieces, drafted by a master, clearly labelled with instructions like “Cut 2 self, 2 canvas, 2 lining.” Slow and steady and this should be an easy night, right?

Not if you forget that you’re supposed to be a 16th century tailor instead of a 21st century seamstress who’s used to modern efficiencies like rotary cutters and cutting all the layers as one stack. See that picture? There’s 3 fabrics stacked there: the wool main fabric, the linen canvas interlining, and the linen lining. All stacked up neat and cut to the same size with the magic pizza cutter. Which medieval tailors didn’t have. They would’ve cut each layer separately with tailor shears for accuracy. But also because THEIR PROCESS IS DIFFERENT.

I forgot that and overlooked one very important point in the cutting instructions: the bit where it tells me that when cutting the interlining canvas to “cut around the shape, leaving approximately 1/2” around all edges.”* <Head desk> See that nice stack of fabrics? Guess who has interlinings that are exactly the same size as the exterior, so all 1” smaller than they need to be?**

Back to work! Lesson learned about keeping my head in the 16th century workspace and not default to lazy modern sewing habits.

* Gnagy Mathew. The Modern Maker. 2014. p41

** Why is the interlining bigger? Great question! “You will notice as you are cutting around the exterior pieces that the canvas pieces will end up just a tiny bit larger than the exterior fabric pieces. Don’t worry about this; this is desirable and should be intentional. You want to be able to lightly stretch the exterior pieces onto the canvas to hold them taut during wear.” Ibid, p40