How good are comfy pants? Comfy pants made of stretchy, warm merino? (Answer: so good)
Enter: Hudson Pants…
I’ve been wearing these a lot. I look forward to getting home so I can put them on. I am not really okay with wearing pants like this out of the house (any elastic waist pants make me feel slightly kid-like) but these are way more stylish and really comfortable. I won’t lie, I’ve been wearing these as pyjamas every single night (a really good thing if, like me, you apparently try and run marathons in your sleep).
So, the details: I made these in a size 6 to start (for my second and third pair I shaved a wee bit off the waist as they felt a little big) but the sizing seems pretty accurate. The instructions were good – clear and concise, with step by step illustrations, and I think this would be a pretty good project for people starting to sew with knits. The PDF pattern lined up nicely which is actually fairly rare I find (I don’t think paper warpage or not having the correct settings explains a lot of the inaccuracies I see in pdf patterns – and granted, yes maybe this seems like an easily fixed issue to me who has access to all the nice design programs, but still…). I like the fit of the legs – not too baggy (which is the reason I picked these over the Papercut Animas) and I think they look pretty good. As a bonus, they don’t use up much fabric – I got these out of just less than a metre of fabric.
Your height will make a difference to how they sit – I think they are drafted for someone around 5’5″ and I’m around 5’6″ which means they are more close fitting than if you were shorter. Lovely Lizzie’s post about her version (same fabric, from the same fabric store trip: Hudson twinsies!) gives you an idea of how the fit changes if you are a different height.
So far, you might have noticed I’ve mentioned 3 pairs of pants, but I’ve only shown you two…
Well, this is also a cautionary tale: a tale of ignoring the recommendations and not really thinking things through. May I present to you my third pair of Hudsons, or, the most expensive and ugly pair of pyjamas ever.
It is amazing how much better they look in photos. ‘They’re… interesting’ is the general theme of the comments I’ve received when wearing them, which I’m not taking as a good sign.
Let’s go through all the reasons these pants were a bad idea:
- Making decisions when I had the flu
- Making decisions about very expensive fabric when I had the flu
- Neglecting to take account of the qualities of said fabric when I had the flu
- Ignoring husband’s funny looks while telling him about the decisions I had made while I had the flu
- Persisting long past the point where I knew I was Doing The Wrong Thing (while I had the flu)
- Getting out of bed while I had the flu
I bought this amazingly soft and lovely (and $$$$) Liberty cotton fleece (yes, I know, and yes it is a real thing) last year with grand intentions: an awesome bomber jacket, or moto jacket or maybe even both. I had done that thing where I had just uncovered it in my stash and wanted to do something with it RIGHT NOW but trying to work out a new pattern wasn’t really appealing when I was feeling so blurghy so I thought: ‘Excellent! More Hudsons! I love Hudsons!’. Which would have been fine if a) I liked wearing floral patterned pants (I don’t) and b) there was any actual stretchiness in the fleece (there isn’t).
Cue epic fail. I had to hack off the ankle cuffs and replace them with black merino because I couldn’t get them over my feet, and the knees will bag out at the slightest provocation. I had to retro-fit black merino detailing on the pockets after the legs were sewn up so the cuffs didn’t look out of place, and I did a really dodgy job of the elastic. Basically I did that thing that I think a lot of sewists do on occasion: persist halfheartedly because ‘maybe they’ll turn out great in the end’.
But… all is not lost. They are INSANELY warm and they are on their way to my sister who may possibly appreciate their epic craziness. And I still have enough fabric left (I hope) to make an awesome jacket.
The moral of this story? The Hudson Pants are great. But don’t try and make them when sick. Stick to watching Jane Austen movies and eating junk food instead.
And: bonus thoughts that have nothing to do with Hudson Pants…
I’m feeling a little weird about blogging at the moment. I do love being part of the blogging community and the people I’ve met through sewing blogs. But the other day I discovered one particular website/forum (I’m guessing a lot of you would know the one I mean, and if you don’t I don’t want to be driving traffic there if I can) which brought home the risk you take when you put yourself out there. I found it really unnerving. One the one hand, I don’t think blogging should be exempt from mockery (very #firstworldproblems), and I certainly think that some blogs can be bad for your mental health in the same way that glamour mags are, and I am very aware that ‘being nice’ is often just a method used to silence people, especially women. But there’s a line where I feel like the boundary between criticism/discussion* blurs to nastiness and a lot of what I read felt that it went to a darker place. I don’t know what the answer is, but it was kinda eye-opening and I don’t know how I feel about it. So: weird.
*I really do think that the current discussion and debate going on in the sewing blogosphere is really important (the whole pattern testing/disclosure issue that has been talked about ad nauseum over the last couple of months – if you’ve had enough feel free to skip this). My 2 cents: I work in marketing, and I see the sort of ‘blog exposure’ that is starting to be sold as a form of advertising there. So I feel like blogging in general is finally having to come to terms with issues about transparency and disclosure – no longer can we think of blogs as having no impact when they are actually used by people to make purchasing decisions. I do feel like openness is going to be really important to maintain blogging’s integrity – and if that means people should be declaring when they’ve received things for free (like patterns to test, or free fabric or whatever), or have a relationship to a business I am 100% behind it. (I also think that if you are running a business then you should be paying your pattern testers, in the same way you pay your accountant because skills should be valued, but that’s a whole other [endless] discussion.)
Okay, I’ll shut up now.