Altering Jeans: Original Hem

Having a few alterations you can do yourself is a pretty valuable asset. Even having fake alteration assets is great, like how I take in sides, along the entire length, of a pair of pants or a skirt; I'm mostly guessing but it usually turns out good enough. But being able to properly take in a hem, is on the top of the altering-assets list. In this post I talked about taking in the hem of skirts with a blind stitch, and today taking in jeans using the original hem. There is such a difference in using the original hem versus creating a new hem on your own -- you're never going to get your new hem to look like the manufactured hem and, I think, that's quiet distracting and you might as well walk around in pants too-long. Plus, it's so easy to use the original. Tutorial after the jump!

A Copied Shirtdress

If you're smart, you'll just buy a pattern and learn how to use it. I'm not smart, and I'm intimidated by stupid things - like using patterns and playing kickball (one good fly-ball to the face will do it). I may be doing a disservice by not just saying, "Get real. Learn how to use a dress pattern."

I just happened to figure out something all by myself, and that so rarely happens that now I'm telling the world about it. The instructions here will apply specifically only to this one dress, but they can probably be parlayed to a lot of simple sundresses. And since I find myself buying multiple colors of every item in my summer wardrobe (cotton being cheaper than wool), maybe it will be useful to some people who have a simple, flattering dress they love.

Enough disclaimers? Let's begin.

trial-by-error altering

Sewing clothes, albeit with a pattern, is actually how I learned to sew many, many years ago. There are many, many halter tops back home (Kathleen, Georgia - holla) that I made from my mother's fabric and patterns from the seventies. But I digress. My point is, I still have not dared to really dig into apparel, save for taking in lengths or making the simplest of tubes. Obviously, I should try and alter some pants. I can't say I know what I'm talking about - I know how to hem and how to stitch but nothing of tailoring to the curves of a body (ooOo). I just know what I did and here I'll tell you. I do very much love my fitted, goldenrod, Betty Draper pants.

What these lines mean, after the jump!