Juniper: Falling in Love

I love drafting my own patterns. The process of measuring my body, turning my form into a flat butcher paper pattern, and then using those pattern pieces to reassemble a three dimensional garment still feels like magic. As a trans person whose body does not fit the standard sizings of the fashion industry, making my own patterns has given me the power to enjoy my body and express my love of fashion through sewing. This is not a guide on how to draft your own patterns – there are others more qualified than myself to help you with that. Instead, this is a love letter to pattern drafting and to queerness, and an encouragement to try drafting your own patterns. I want to walk you through my process of making something with my own pattern so that you can understand the care and joy making your own patterns provides. 

Pattern drafting is a beautiful practice of learning to embrace failure. As a trans person, my body has often been made to feel like its own site of failure. Queerness is a departure from the heteronormative milieu, a failure to conform to the cis, straight, gender-conforming world of power and prestige. From a young age I worked hard to push down the things that were different about me in order to fit into societal norms. As I grew older, I could no longer continue that lie and opted instead to begin the journey of embracing myself. Like many trans people, learning to love myself also included learning how to reclaim ownership of my body. While there are many things that have gone into that undertaking, being able to make my own clothes and my own patterns has been a euphoric process that has helped me shape my body and gender presentation.

Juniper, a white nonbinary person with many tattos, with one hand in their hair shot from the hips up. They are wearing a dark purple gown. They are flat chested.

Juniper, a white nonbinary person with many tattos, with one hand in their hair shot from the hips up. They are wearing a dark purple gown. They are flat chested.

Clothing should be about having fun. For me, having clothes that make me feel good means having clothes that fit well and are often a bit loud and unusual. Making my own garments has allowed me to create whatever wild concoction of fabric my heart desires, but pattern drafting has opened the gates to a world of well fitting and comfortable clothes. While commercial patterns allow for fun fabrics and unusual notions, they rarely know how to contain my flat chest and wide hips. Making my own patterns allows me to make clothes that fit my body regardless of how other people think my body should look. Sewing allows me to celebrate the body that I have made.

A New Flame

I recently decided to make a few fancy dresses. I have always admired ball gowns and flowing skirts, but having never attended prom or a black tie occasion myself. I have never had the chance to dress up in anything fancy. Perhaps it is this lack, or maybe watching a lot of America's Next Top Model as a kid, that drew me to gowns. There is something captivating about the layers of tulle and the details of beadwork and embroidery on a bodice. When I realized I was nonbinary, my interest in gowns became something that I put off for a while. If I really wasn’t a woman then why would I want to wear “women’s” clothes? While this question may seem like a “gotcha” question for some folks, the answer for me is simpler: dresses are fun! If gender is a performance then I want the blue ribbon. And when you look at them through a queer lense, a corset and a binder don’t feel like such different objects. As I grew more comfortable with my body and gender I quickly returned to my love of pretty things and set my sights on a new sewing goal.

Sketch of seven different options for the dress bodice and two options for the back of the bodice.

Sketch of seven different options for the dress bodice and two options for the back of the bodice.

When sewing with someone else’s pattern my design process often begins with the fabric. I choose the right material to go with the plan already laid out before me. When I’m making my own pattern the process is a bit different. First I must make a plan! As a graduate student, being able to do good research is an important part of my work, and I love putting those investigatory skills to use when planning a pattern. There are unlimited possibilities for what a person can make when drafting their own patterns, and narrowing your sights is an important part of the process. I try to go into research with a few goals in mind; these goals can be about the silhouette, era, feel, or material of the final garment. With this dress I knew that I wanted to have a full skirt and for the bodice to be subdued. My goal was to create a (relatively) simple dress that would act as the foundation to embroidered tulle overdresses and blouses. Many years ago I endeavoured to have a capsule wardrobe, and my main takeaway was that a piece should, whenever possible, go with as many other pieces as possible. Why make one dress when I could make a base dress that could become dozens of other dresses? In my quest to create this dress I began my research by scouring Pinterest and Etsy. By the end of my research process I always hope to have a better idea of what fabric I want to use, what the silhouette of the garment should be, and what details I want to include in the garment.

I gathered only a few images this time, mostly some old 1950s gown patterns and some strap ideas from dresses on Etsy. Even though I’m not using a pattern I love referencing the art on old sewing patterns; it’s often easier to see the seams and other sewing details in a sketch than in a final piece. Once I have gathered all of my references I begin sketching out ideas. For almost every project I want to make it is hard to find images of people with bodies like mine wearing the clothes I want to wear. Though I am not much of an artist, I find sketching helps me better visualize how I would look wearing the new garment. For this particular dress, I knew by the end of the research portion almost everything except what I wanted the straps to look like. After sketching a few options I decided on a multi-strap option, three straps on each side that would cross over my back and add some visual interest to an otherwise simple gown. When I finally had the actual design ready, it was time to begin the process of making the dress pattern!

Juniper wears a purple gown with three straps on either side crossing their back; the skirt itself is full.

Juniper wears a purple gown with three straps on either side crossing their back; the skirt itself is full.

The Pattern

If pattern drafting is my love, then muslin is the matchmaker. Muslin is the material that catalogues the lessons learned, that marks failures and allows for improvement, and that guides the sewist like the north star. A rough woven cotton fabric speckled with irregularities, muslin is an inexpensive teacher. For this project I decided to drape the bodice and flat draft the pattern for the skirt pieces. While I typically only flat draft patterns, I recently found a used adjustable sized flat chested dress form and was excited to try draping! Making a flat pattern is a test of mathematics but draping a pattern is cartographic. Like any good map, a good draped piece should be a clear and accurate guide that in the future you will be able to navigate with ease. After carefully pinning the rough cotton to my dress form and marking the lines I took my fabric scissors and cut a jagged edge. For all of the precision I try to muster when sewing, making the muslin is a time for playing and testing. 

Even when I draft a flat pattern, I always sew a muslin first to test the fit of the pattern. I recently made a pair of shorts that went through three cycles of making the flat pattern, sewing the muslin, and editing the pattern. A perfect muslin is not just the final one before you cut the fashion fabric, a perfect muslin is any one that gets you closer to that final goal. I didn’t start out using muslins; I thought the process was too tedious to be worth it. But as I’ve continued on my sewing journey I’ve begun to enjoy the slow process that leads to the finished garment. Now, my muslins are an important part of that process not only because they help me find the shape of the clothes I’m making but because they are often a part of the final garment. 

Juniper standing up and wearing a purple gown with their hands in their pockets. The dress is a v-neck with narrow straps and a very full skirt.

Juniper standing up and wearing a purple gown with their hands in their pockets. The dress is a v-neck with narrow straps and a very full skirt.

A muslin isn’t just a map, it is a bedrock. For this dress I used the muslin of the bodice as an interlining that added strength, stability, and a cleaner look to the final object. It’s like being able to use the recipe as an ingredient, a treasure hunt that uses every clue to create the prize. I hold my muslins dear to me in the same way that I cherish my seam ripper: both allow me to create, fail, and try again. This is the reason I love making my own patterns, they give me space to try. Having the room to try and fail and try again is all I want for my sewing and for my body. I love how this dress turned out, and I hope to find, or make, an occasion to wear it. Making my own clothes gives me the space to experiment not just with fabric but with my self. It lets me ask the timid question that all too often I have brushed aside: What do I want? 


Juniper Lewis (they/them) is a graduate student in cultural anthropology whose work looks at kids and online multiplayer games. When not working, they spend their time sewing, roller skating at skate parks, and playing board games with their family. They have one cat, two dogs, three kids, and a wonderful partner. Born and raised in the foothills of Northern California, they have lived in Wisconsin for the past five years. Sewing has been an important part of their life for almost two decades, and they still have a lot to learn. They hope to someday learn how to sew suits and are always working to expand their skills. They can be found on Instagram @juniperscustomworks.

To learn more about Juniper, you can watch their IG Live conversation with SewQueer Founder, Shannon, on YouTube by clicking here.


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