Well, I did it. Taking suggestions from here and from around the internet, I embarked on fitting a pair of pants in muslin form. And somewhere in there, with yarn wrapped about my hips and everything pinned awkwardly in place, it occurred to me that anything involving the phrases “crotch depth” and “rear wrinkles” might not be something I want to post publicly to the internet, particularly not accompanied with photographs, particularly not with everyone I know watching. (hi, mom. No butt pictures, not today).
It is serious fitting business, this “pants” subject. And I have learned that muslin show off every bump and wrinkle. I think I have learned some other things, as well: that I’m not actually sway-backed. I thought I was, but I may, in fact, be the reverse. (Flat back?) I’ve learned that I’m knock-kneed and that I am thicker on my front side than I am on my back side (a thing I should have known since my Anatomy class all those years ago.) I’ve learned that even though the “Full Figured Woman” diagram in my Coni Crawford pattern makes me uncomfortable in its harshness, I should pay attention to the related tips, just the same, since that is my body she’s adjusting for.
And I’ve learned some things that I still have in front of me to learn, like that making side seams perpendicular to the floor (when few, if any, parts of my body stand perpendicular to the floor) is an absurd proposition, and that I will probably have to read another forty websites on pants-fitting before this game is over.
And I would like to note: even Fit for Real People doesn’t have a “pants” chapter. They’ll fit the bodice and dress every which way including sideways, but sometimes when you throw in crotch-depth and ass-wrinkles, even the pros realize they need a whole new book for that material.