This is your content warning. In the blog post below, I use sewing terms, some of which would make an eight-grader snigger. Everything is safe-for-work… for most workplaces. If either of those make you uneasy, bounce now. 🙂
Most commercial underwear does not fit me. The two exceptions are some high-end French brands (that I can’t afford) and one pair of Maidenform-brand underwear that I found in the mid-1980s, now since lost to time.
The main problem is crotch rise. (Hey, you were warned!). That is, the length measured from center top front to center top back of underwear. Commercial underwear has a crotch rise that is too long for me. When I put a pair of bikini underwear on, the back rides up to my waist. If I pull up the front so the back fits, well, let’s just say things get extremely high-legged and frontal coverage diminishes. The fabric in the middle clearly needs to be shorter.
This has been an issue for me: All. Of. My. Life.
As in, everyday I’m wearing uncomfortable undies, no matter the size. Subjected to needless wedgies and bunching. It’s a small thing, and yet, it is wearisome. Every morning when I get dressed there’s a moment where I sigh and feel a tiny bit bad that my body doesn’t fit the world’s idea of what a body should look like.
Re-read that last sentence.
Maybe it’s not such a small thing after all.
It’s not just underwear: my back length is about three inches shorter than “normal” which means t-shirts never hit my chest and hips at the right places, making me look sloppy and misshapen. I have a combination of bubble butt and small waist which means that denim jeans either fit my waist, or my butt, never both. Oh, and muscular “man calves” that powered years of roller derby, and yet mean I can’t find knee-length socks that will go over them, and even 90% of ankle-length socks have cuffs that are so narrow they cut off my circulation.
So getting dressed is a series of “you are not the right shape” messages, clothes that are uncomfortable, and which make my body look worse. Over decades, I won’t lie, it’s had an effect on my self-esteem and ease in what’s supposed to be my “second skin.”
And I’m sure I’m not the only one.
I’ve always meant to learn how to sew. I bought stuff that would help me learn how to sew, and then got terrified of making mistakes and just went to Goodwill and tried on 300 items until I found some that kinda fit.
Enter the pandemic. Goodwill is not currently an option, and I have put on about 10 pounds sitting at home, stress eating.
The underwear situation has become more dire.
And so, my journey begins… I started by researching underwear patterns online. There are a lot of great indie pattern makers who sell PDF patterns that you download and print at home. Which makes me happy because: instant gratification, I can print multiple copies for chopping up and adjusting fit, and no need to venture out into the world.
Even better, a lot of indie pattern makers offer their undies for free, as a way to try out the quality of their patterns and instructions.
Searching around on the internet, I found that a lot of people were making the Acacia pattern by Megan Nielsen, which is free if you sign up for the designer’s mailing list. Because it is so popular, there are a lot of tutorials for it on blogs and YouTube As a beginning sewist, having tutorials gave me confidence I would have the hand-holding to get me through this.
Oh how I know the challenges of trying to fit in ready to wear! Some of my problems are the opposite with yours such as the rise is always too short for me. I am petite with a long waist and the industry says if you are under 5’5″ you have a short waist. I can’t wear a one-piece swimsuit because the bra cups don’t come up to my bust line! I have a problem with socks cutting off my circulation too.
Good for you for learning to sew your own! I am getting back to it after years of not sewing. I use thrift store garments for test material. I have found lovely linen in extra large sizes to make things and thrift store sheets and such make good test garment fabric. No worries of messing up nice organic cotton fabric! Keep up the good work and I am looking forward to reading about your adventures.
I feel your pain around the rise and waist issues. It’s so frustrating, isn’t it? When every-single-thing you buy is a bit off.
I too am a fan of reusing thrift-store finds for the fabric, as you’ll see in my next post. 🙂 I also am a fan of linen. I think my ideal ‘capsule’ wardrobe will be sets of linen pants with a tshirt tops, and occasional overalls for outside work.
On the optimistic front, I’ve recently bought a couple of fun/geeky tshirts in XXL with the idea that once I get a tshirt pattern figured out, I can remake them into a tshirt that has a cool design… and fits!
This is kind of a heartbreaking realization, and well written. With the way things are now, we get so many terrible messages every time we wake up, before we’ve even made it to the kitchen for coffee. Just remembering our shared reality is awful, first thing. It’s like that horrid 4 am twilight land of despair I used to occasionally wake up into in the night has taken over my daytimes too. And you’re pointing out that we’re getting cruel messages from sources that should feel affirming. If I can’t trust even my underwear, what hope is there of feeling welcomed in the world by anyone/thing? Of feeling a sense of belonging? All interactions begin to chafe. I like your solution. Taking charge and fixing your experience where you can is so positive. Suddenly I understand why I’ve knitted so many sweaters, hats and cowls the last few months. I’m definitely going to try the Acacia pattern.
Cool. I’ve found that the Acacia pattern fits well for my bubble-butt bottom. If you find you it’s not a good base shape for you, there are lots of other free-to-inexpensive PDF underwear patterns out there from indie designers. Often in much more interesting designs than I’ve found in the big-name pattern companies.
I want you to be able to trust your underwear again! 🙂