There is something about pants that is very personal. It is hard to find ones that fit well, they cover just about half your body, and in them you have the pockets (ideally) to carry everything you need. So to make myself a pair of pants feels like an act of care.

Though I have been sewing for about ten years, I didn’t make my first pair of proper pants until last fall. They were inspired by my roommate who came home from summer break with a beautiful pair of handmade pants she had made by tracing a pair of existing pants. I got excited, found some fun fabric from goodwill, and set about tracing some Carhartt’s.

I like the idea of tracing a garment. Its this odd feeling of playing god. You get to take something that already exists in a form that you like, and you can re-create it into something you love even more. Throughout the process of making this first pair of pants I learned a lot about construction. I figured out flat felled seams, how to make a proper zipper fly, and the ins and outs of many pockets. In the end I called these pants my 24 hour pants because once I started them, I got a little bit obsessed and stayed up late finishing them.

Its now been a couple of months since I attempted pants, and I felt ready to try again. This time I wanted to make them not just out of secondhand fabric, but out of an existing item. I found these huge curtains in the free box. The front fabric was in great condition but the lining was quite stained, so I took them home, cut them apart, and washed them.

Construction began the same way as before. I traced the old favorite Carhartt’s, adding just enough room for a seam allowance on all sides. I then did a lot of ironing and attaching of pockets and pieces, and, slowly, pantliness emerged. There was a point in the middle of making them where I stepped back and thought “oh no, I am not gonna like these pants! They hurt my eyes!” But then as they finished up with all the neat seams and I tried them on, I got more excited.

To wear something you made and have it feel good is an unparalleled feeling. I think it must be a little like when a potter drinks their morning coffee out of a mug they crafted or a timber framer walks into a barn they raised. To see your handiwork and feel it living there in reality is so uplifting.