I sometimes think pattern blocks suffer from a bit of an image problem - because they look terribly serious.
No beautiful photography. No lovely illustration of the finished garment. No reassuring packet telling you what you're going to make. Just lines, darts, notches and measurements.
For somebody used to commercial sewing patterns, a block can look like the exact opposite of creativity. But actually, I think it's one of the most creatively freeing tools you can have.
Because a block isn't a design. It's a starting point.
So what actually is a block?
At its simplest, a basic block is a pattern created to fit a particular set of measurements, without the design features you'd expect to see in a finished garment.
So it isn't a blouse or a dress or a jacket. It's merely the underlying shape from which those things can be developed. And when that block has been properly fitted to your body, it becomes incredibly useful.
Instead of beginning every project by wondering what alterations you'll need to make to somebody else's pattern, you have a reliable reference point. A map of your own body shape, if you will.
You know where your waist is.
You know where your bust sits.
You know your shoulder length and angle.
You have something that represents you rather than an abstract standard size.
Rules can actually create freedom
This is the bit I find fascinating, because we often assume that creativity needs complete freedom - that if there are no rules, no boundaries and no restrictions, we’re free to do whatever we like. But in reality, complete freedom can be surprisingly paralysing.
A totally blank page offers endless possibilities, but absolutely no clue about where to begin. Faced with too many possible directions, we can find ourselves unable to choose any of them at all - the familiar tyranny of the blank page. Sometimes it’s the boundaries that give us something to push against, play with and ultimately transform.
A block gives us those boundaries. It provides the framework, but it doesn't dictate the outcome. The important fitting information is already there, leaving us free to ask: what if I move this dart? What if I turn it into gathers? What if I add volume, change the neckline or completely disrupt the symmetry?
The important fitting information is already there, which means you can concentrate on the creative decisions.
- What happens if I rotate this dart?
- What if I turn it into gathers?
- Could I create a princess seam?
- Change the neckline?
- Add volume?
- Create an asymmetric shape?
- Turn the bodice into a dress?
Suddenly those rather unexciting lines on the paper become the framework for dozens - potentially hundreds - of different choices and therefore garments.
You begin to understand patterns differently
Working with blocks also changes the way you look at commercial patterns.
Instead of seeing a collection of mysterious shapes that somehow become a garment, you start recognising what's happened to create them.
You can see where volume has been added. Or recognise dart manipulation. You understand why a seam is positioned where it is. And you begin to see the architecture underneath the design.
And once you can see it, it becomes much easier to change it. That's why I think learning some pattern cutting can be transformative even if you have absolutely no intention of becoming a professional pattern cutter.
It's simply another way of understanding clothes.
Your body becomes the reference point
There is another reason I love blocks. The fashion industry, out of necessity, works with standardisation. Clothes and commercial patterns need to be produced in repeatable sizes.
But our bodies aren't standard so a personal block turns that relationship around. Instead of starting with a standard pattern and repeatedly asking how your body differs from it, you start with your own proportions. From there, you create the garment.
It's a subtle difference, but psychologically I think it's quite powerful. The pattern becomes something that is supposed to adapt to you - not the other way around.
Foundations aren't there to keep you still
I often talk about building strong foundations in sewing and pattern cutting. That doesn't mean endlessly practising basics and never doing anything exciting. The point of learning the foundations is that they give you somewhere solid from which to experiment.
It's rather like learning the grammar of a language. Once you understand how it works, you can start playing with it. You can break rules deliberately rather than accidentally. Having that base level of knowledge allows you to make informed choices so you can develop your own ideas.
So if you've ever looked at a basic block and thought it seemed rather dull, perhaps look again. Because those simple lines aren't telling you what you have to make.
They're asking: What would you like to make from here?
Jules x