I waited a few weeks after making the first pair of Pants for a Thick Ass & Muscular Legs before starting on the next version. I just wanted time to savored my creations.
I had the groceries delivered.
I was served life-affirming meals.
I delighted in around-the-clock childcare.
Someone mopped the floors.
There was nothing left for me to do but take to my chamber and retire.
Nah, actually I had COVID. And my man worked like a dog to retrieve my health. At least, that’s what he remembers. My memory is more fuzzy but I am none-the-less grateful for his service.
While my insides were in a mythical battle against COVID, I would ruminate on the next version of pants for those blessed with a thick ass and muscular legs.
I'd be drifting off for my morning nap or writhing in joint pain (anyone else?), and I'd ponder how I could make the solid ghee yellow or sandbox brown fabric options as sensational (IMO) as those breath-taking (IMO) blue daisies.
It was a tall order, and it seemed the solid patterns weren’t giving me any inspiration, other than buttery crib sheets and scratchy sandpaper. But day nine, during an exhaustive nap, inspiration hit: I need to add racer stripes!!!
When I finally felt a sprig of energy, I prepared the Solid Ghee Yellow fabric. Yep, I treated that fabric like salad greens from the grocery store, and triple washed (and dried) them. My laundering goals were two-fold:
- to remove any lurking production toxins
- to pre-shrink the fabric before cutting the pattern pieces. Everyone hates clothes that shrink.
Letting my Makers Flag Fly
After the laundering, I unfurled the Solid Ghee fabric on the living room floor and let my makers flag fly: Beware, the seamstress is back!
I was crouched there, on the hardwood floors, pinning pattern pieces on the Solid Ghee fabric when my man wafted into the room and hovered above me. I didn’t notice his hand wringing at first because Bonnie Raitt’s “Nick of Time” was pouring across the room like warm, velveteen chocolate and I had my groove on. Take a moment to savor the music video and you'll catch my drift.
Crushing My Vibe
I had pinned one of legs in place and was rounding the rear of the other, when my man casually asked, “Could you add another inch in the crotch? I need a little more depth.”
My brain jiggled. “Does this mean the first pair does not fit you?!”
“No, they just could use a little space down here,” and never a man of implicit communication, he grabbed the seam of his crotch to clear up any confusion.
Alright now, if I’m sewing pants for someone, and he tells me that the crotch is uncomfortable, and that he needs another inch of room, then he’s getting not one, but two inches of extra crotch space.
The first inch he gets because he had the courage to ask, and the second inch is because I don’t think an inch will solve the problem. If you look at the picture of his rear from the first man-pants article, you’ll see evidence of the design flaw.
“Could you add another inch to the crotch?” he asked, “I think they need more depth.”
Necessary Adjustments to Pants Pattern
It took me a few minutes to get over myself and metabolize his ad hoc input. Then I had a realization, he popped by in the nick of time to improve the pants. I should be grateful! I thanked Bonnie Raitt for her wisdom and got back to work.
Here’s how I adjusted the pants pattern:
1. I added 2" depth to the crotch
2. I added racer stripes
If you’re trying to recreate these pants (Lord be with you) and you have not read all the helpful backstory of the blue daisies article, I should mention that I used Vogue Patterns V8964 and I didn’t follow the pattern instructions. The pants still looked anatomically correct upon completion.
Adding Depth to the Crotch
For the crotch depth pattern changes, I cut a rectangle from a grocery bag and used it to augment the existing pattern.
I hear the experienced seamstresses chattering. Alternatively, I could have redrawn the crotch adding two inches more of padding, but I guessed it would lower the crotch just the same (and with less risk) if I added height to the waist instead.
Here is what the pattern looked like with the additional two inches added at the top.
Racer Stripes Creation
I used the otherwise useless, faux-drawstring pattern piece (#25 in the photo) as a guide for the width of the racer stripe —because I’m prudent and I like fixing things.
I placed #25 on the fold of the floral print, so I reaped twice the width, and cut two stripes.
You'll notice the Solid Ghee pants did turn out wider than the Blue Daisies because of a phenomenon called math. I suggest you eat some garlic, clutch a crystal and keep away from it.
For the racer stripes , I envisioned something cheery and colorful to coordinate with the school-zone-yellow color of the pants, and I did not want to spend any more money because I’m resourceful (“cheap” is not a family value). At first, I considered using ribbon, but I did not have enough on-hand for what the job required. So, I raided my fabric bin, and found a vintage cotton flower print that would do the trick.
This print is akin to cupcake sprinkles, yet with less dynamics than those tiny cake-top-delights. A pattern improvement would be a dimmer switch. The colors are shrieking like children on sugar, stuck inside during a storm.
I’d say the flowers resemble impatiens, but impatiens that cross-bred with crayons in a Floridian’s shade garden. Tropical gardeners are always up to something kinky like that.
But I'll level with you, there is no way these flowers could exist in nature. Their colors remind me of Easter egg food-dyes, and the flowers have no stems. I suspect the petals were reared on Skittles alone.
Fabric too Loud? Flip it and Reverse it!
Given the all the aesthetic implications of my vintage floral fabric I had a moment of dread and thought this might be the wrong floral for the job. That moment passed when Missy Elliot whispered some advice in my ear, "Put the thing down flip it and reverse it."
And that's just what I did; I used the back side of the flower fabric to subdue the print's intensity.
In some ways, my pallet has matured. Either that or I am less bold as I age. TBD.
Their first reveal was at the Sisters Folk Festival. My man got a compliment from the guy running the Tibetan clothing booth there, "I like your style," which reinforced all his life choices and rocketed him to cloud nine.
I'm not sure where else the Solid Ghee pants belong. What do you think? Is there’s an outlet for these beyond clown's-day-off and ice cream truck drivers?