Big 4 Patterns Discontinued?

Where have all the patterns gone?

    A lot has changed in the world of home fashion since I first started blogging in the 2000's. As a beginner I amassed a pattern hoard that I'm almost embarrassed by. I collected most of them through secondhand shops. I had to buy two Sterilite dressers to house them and eventually that wasn't enough. They're now in boxes upon boxes. I remember when we were moving into our first house and my husband's friend, who was kind enough to help us, commented on how heavy my book boxes were; imagine his face when I told him it was just paper patterns. I think I have somewhere in the neighborhood of 300. I'm supposed to be selling off the majority of my collection but recent changes in the sewing retail industry have caused me to hesitate. Apparently Fabricland has cleared out all of its patterns. I haven't been in the shop much since the pandemic started, partially because I have a serious fabric stash problem, but also because I haven't been sewing nearly as much.

    On my last visit they had patterns in a large bin on clearance but I didn't realize it was the beginning of the end. This is depressing news. I've heard mixed ideas as to why it happened, assumptions fall somewhere between restructuring and the trade wars, but it doesn't really matter what the reason was as much as that it did happen. Tissue patterns have been an essential asset for beginners and advanced sewists alike. Many people will become impacted by this decision and those looking to break into the hobby will have a harder time. I can't even buy these patterns online unless it's through a third party seller at a significant markup. Going forward I will have to become reliant on my pattern hoard, thrifting, and my limited drafting knowledge to get me through. Of course there are PDFS...if you're into that sort of thing. The Big 4 are still producing patterns but not all of them are available for print at home, which seems dumb when you realize they stopped shipping to Canada, too. I hate spending time taping the pages together and getting everything perfectly aligned. I had to buy a paper cutter just to do my Burda coat (which I'll hopefully write about soon) and it took the greater part of an afternoon to assemble the print out! Nevermind cutting the materials which is exhausting enough. Also you can't "tissue fit" with printer paper. It produces a lot more tracing an adjustment problems that most novices won't be able to tackle.

    Before things ended, I managed to get a few of McCall's more contemporary designs. They took on some "influencers" to produce patterns for them. I have no idea who Brandi is but her stuff is kind of cheap looking (some of it in a skanky way). And confession time: I have almost always hated anything by Mimi G, her patterns look really tacky to me. I don't know why Simplicity went kind of all in on her. I get what they're trying to do with the Know Me Line (apparently also her?) but it too seldom has anything that looks quality, there's a lot of frumpy looking garments in the collection. It's funny how hit and miss it can be. I was pleased that some of their stuff post pandemic was starting to look more polished off but their newest releases look dowdy and bizarre. There's a lot of ill fitting clothing in terrible fabric choices, I thought they had moved beyond that. It was cool to see the Gunne Sax re-releases even if the sample photos leave a lot to be desired; more poor fabric choices and construction issues. I did buy a PDF copy of one of them that I had always wanted but was unwilling to pay $45 for it on Ebay, with the PDF I only paid $5.99 USD plus tax, and of course the eventual headache of assembly. I doubt it will look very good without significant alterations, they have that 80's big everything problem lol but I'll do my best. The only designs that look really good to me right now are coming from Burda, but they're sort of falling behind the times. It must be a challenge to produce relevant fashions that can last more than a few years but their catalogue is enormous and readily available for print at home which is nice when you've got no other options!

    I know that most people shrugged this "pattern shortage" off because they're obsessed with insert name (indie pattern maker). I purchased a few indie patterns on Etsy over the course of the pandemic and they're not without their issues. Size inclusivity is a problem. One bodice I bought was not made for large chested women. It had atrocious fit problems in the shoulder area that I couldn't work out, and the instructions were abysmal as they were largely dependent on a video that was not in English. And even though the designer did get back to me with an adjustment suggestion their response felt somewhat shitty like it's a me problem and that the bodice wasn't designed for boobs. Another designer had fantastic full color photo instructions in their pattern and I was really pleased with the price point and the final product. There is good and bad out there and because they are independent these designers are only accountable to themselves, and maybe their partners or shareholders. Sometimes they can lack professionalism; they may misuse social media, uphold fringe politics, steal ideas and/or treat their consumer base like crap... (r/craftsnark anyone?). Beyond makers with sketchy political views, I'm not a huge fan of the shopping process; finding something reliable is difficult. I found it harder to find reviews on indie patterns that weren't obvious endorsements by friends and influencers (I guess the knitting scene has a similar problem). Now with AI slop flooding the market it's going to be even more complicated to vet out good designers.

    See that makes me sad, to think I'll never get to walk into a store and flip through the big catalogue and stumble upon something really cute or cool. Nothing is ever going to match that experience. This is the end of an era.

Y2K Fashion in 2026

When your past comes back to haunt you...

    My friend, Elisabeth, is a secondary school teacher. When she comes for visits she likes to regale me with stories about her students. It's usually in regards to how poorly they're performing at school and how she fears that they're academically doomed; but she also enjoys telling me about their bizarre outfits. Like kids coming to school in weird lingerie costumery type stuff. A lot of it she tells me is hideous and does not go together, at all. She has also told me that they no longer have fashion cliques in high school like we did. No goths, jocks, preps or nerds. They wear anything and everything, it just depends on the day. We laugh about it, but it's not so funny when you realize kids are starting to wear the same crap that you did when you were their age. It's like the planets coming into alignment, water turns into wine, and kids start dressing like their parents. You might think it's flattering or cute, for me it's weird and sort of feels like we're losing apart of ourselves, but it's not so unfamiliar territory...

    When we were teens in the 2000's we were wearing clothing largely inspired by the styles of the 1970's. I remember it firing up in the late 90's when we started to see less hippy chic or club wear and more relaxed boho designs. There were peasant tops, empire waistlines, puff sleeves, appliqued pants, ruffles and all sorts of embellishments. That was my parent's generation of fashion, and my mother and other relatives would not let me forget it. I thought to myself, "there's no way it's remotely the same!" And then of course That 70's Show gained in popularity and some girls started doing Farrah hair and it dawned on me that it was probably true. But there was also this weird hybridization thing going on... these 70's styles were being incorporated into cowboy and military looks...? I don't know where the hell that came from but it happened. It was a crazy mish mash of fashion, a little of something for everyone!

    I knew it was possible that some of these styles would be revisited eventually, especially with how hard designers pushed the 90's aesthetic for the last decade, but I'm surprised to see it come back all at once. It's not been gradual and it feels like I'm shopping in the past. In the main photo above is a picture of a girl with a furry purse, and it feels like it could've come straight out of our yearbook...or from someone's Myspace page. It's all too familiar. The straw cowboy hats. The handkerchief tops. Statement jewelry. Purse charms. Cadet hats. Studs. Square necklines. Empire waistlines. Crocheted things. The peasant style shirts and skirts. The big ass belts worn low on the hips. Even the subtle nod to Aviator glasses but I'm sure we'll be seeing those come back eventually, too.

    The only thing they're missing are ponchos. I don't see any contemporary ponchos. Give it time I guess.

    It was only yesterday when I was thinking about how much I miss 2010's adult fashion; that prim and proper, jeans and a nice top aesthetic. Everyone looked so put together. I can see that we're probably only a few years off from returning to that business casual, handicraft chic. With pageboy hats, statement bib necklaces and bootcut jeans... Or the cardigans with the infinite scarves, pencil skirts and the pixie cuts...you know, that coveted "librarian look". I'm not likely to wait for it mind you, I've already started digging up patterns in my stash that I purchased during that era (I'm aging myself here) and I'm hoping to sew some over the summer so that my fall wardrobe is look book ready! 

Winter Blues

Facing Winter Hardships

    It was not a very merry Christmas for us in 2025. To start, things had been reaching a boiling point in regards to our living situation. An irritating shift in the dynamics of our neighborhood prompted me to commit fully to renovating and preparing our house for list. We've had enough of it here and want to move far away, if we can afford to. The whole process has been very daunting. It's involved a lot of money, time and physical labor. We had a flooring install done in November, only to have them miscalculate the number of required planks; we ended up without a kitchen for an entire month. I had hoped to have our agent out for an assessment but with all of our furniture and appliances displaced we ended up calling it off. My birthday came and went, bitterly cold as such, and we managed to have a mildly enjoyable weekend away from the house, which, given the state of things was much appreciated. We stayed in a large bungalow basement apartment rental on an operational farm. The peace and quietude bolstered my desire to live solitarily in the country. Every house I passed on our way home called out to me. When we would go for road trips to see distant relatives I'd wonder at every little farmhouse and what it would be like to live there. I longed for a new perspective.

    My Nana died on Jan. 3rd. On December 26th she suffered a terrible fall which ultimately lead to a brain bleed. She had a stroke and struggled with aphasia. I wish I could say that I was extremely close to my grandmother but the truth is I'm not very close to anyone in my family. I love them, of course, but I don't think I quite have the deep understanding that I experience with my husband or my best girl friend, Elisabeth. It's a familial love that I have for her. When I was a little girl I was convinced my Nan must be a descendent from British royalty, her house was always so prim, proper and perfumed. It had a lovely smell to it, not clinical, just cleanly and fresh and to be honest very different from the house I grew up in (my parents are hoarders). It was like stepping into another country which would be accurate to an extent as both my grandparents were British expats. My Papa had initiated their emigration to Canada. My Nan was an unwilling participant. She loved England. Her entire life she lamented leaving her home country and it was devastating to hear the true nature behind their relationship. She was a byproduct of an incredibly misogynistic and sexist era. She was wed and that meant that she had to fall in line. Young and with child she made her way overseas by boat, and alone because her husband had already left and made the "arrangements" without her. She lead a hard life. She worked in factories and cafeterias and paid the bills herself (lord only knows what the hell he was doing). That's why it was so wonderful to see her come into herself in her fifties and early sixties. She had made a strong core group of female friends with whom she golfed, shopped and travelled. It was a long running joke that you couldn't call her on certain days because she'd be on the "horn" with her friend Mary for hours. Her retirement was filled with many social occasions and I'm grateful for that because, I have little doubt, she had longed for something more. 

    I didn't get to spend Christmas with her. We were to meet on the 27th, as is the tradition, with a nice party full of appetizers and sweets. I can't fully remember if I visited her on the 28th or the 29th... but it was before New Years. We were told she wouldn't last that long. I was also told she would be asleep and unable to speak. I had no idea when my husband and I visited her in the hospital that she'd be awake and attempting to make conversation. The aphasia had practically decimated her ability to communicate. We tried to pretend she wasn't dying. We smiled half heartedly, told her all about the beautiful Christmas tree we have up this year, that my kitchen and dining area finally look half decent, that we missed her very much and we regret not seeing her on Christmas Day. Also that we would be celebrating our ten year anniversary in August and buying a new home to live in. She struggled to say something about the Christmas tree, I put my hand on her reassuringly and told her that I knew it was difficult to talk. We told her that we loved her very much and to my amazement, clear as day, she said she loved us very much. She looked so exhausted just getting the words out, like she was in agony. It took everything in me not to cry. We told her there'd be more visitors on the way that day, to my annoyance that apparently wasn't true, but I'm happy to know that her last conversation was one of love. I hugged her and tucked her in just as she used to do for me when I slept over. In her final days her children visited frequently, she slept the whole while through, right up to the end when they were by her side. 

    On the day she died a sundog shot up from the clouds, a happy pastel rainbow in a dreary winter setting, I thought of her. I felt it was probably time, so when my mother made the call it only made sense to me. I like to imagine that rainbow came down for her. 

    Anyone who really knows me knows that I hate winter. I always get post Christmas blues but this year is the worst of it. We didn't have a family Christmas. I celebrated with Brandon but we worked up until eight o'clock Christmas Day so it wasn't much of a celebration. Elisabeth visited me on boxing day, we crafted together for several hours and that day felt more like Christmas to me at the time. I visited family briefly on the 27th to give them all of their cookie boxes. It pained me to not pack Nan's. To know she wouldn't be apart of it...they had removed her feeding tube that day. We sat at my parents house talking of Nan but then of random things to ease the tension. For a glimmering moment it felt okay, even though we knew it wasn't. 

    I packed up the tree around epiphany, it started to bring more pain than joy to look at it. I know my parents still have theirs up. I switched off my Christmas lights yesterday. I needed them to help me get through the darkness. I think of her in waves. I think of how she always had knit slippers around the house and would give them to me to keep my feet warm when I visited. I remember Avon, the perfumes, jewelry and trinkets and how she'd have a stash of catalogue purchases on hand to gift people at random. I remember the radio in the living room and how it used to play Easy Listening AM which stopped airing probably ten years ago. I wish it would come back. I also remember the summers by the pool, the hot chocolate in September when we got too cold, the trifle in July and August served on scalloped spoons. The KFC dinners, the shouting UNO games. How she drank shandies and how when I realized as an adult what a shandy was I almost fell off my stool. I remember the sparkling Christmases in the basement by the fire and the delicious meals. But more than anything I'll remember how she talked of England, her family, her parents' boarding house, Llandudno and Uncle Ian. 

    I think she's apart of the reason I'm so driven to leave. The timing is bittersweet. It's not only getting away from the reality that someone else is going to live in my Nan's house, and swim in our pool, and eat sweets in our kitchen... It's because so many opportunities were taken from her. She always told me to value my independence, in her case that comment was in regards to her car, she loved being able to jump in and go anywhere... but if you dig deeper those words read differently; I think it was the fact that she could get in her car and drive off when her husband was being abusive, when life didn't look the way that she had hoped. She could get in her car and go golfing for an afternoon, or visit a friend, or shop, or go to church. It allowed her some control over her life again. She did not live an easy life...and in her honor I'll be damned if I settle or let people dictate how or where I'm going to live. I want to experience life for myself. I want to try the country property out, to learn whether I love it or hate it, because that's a privilege! If I can take away one solid lesson from my Nan it's that you have to live your life for yourself.  

I would love a country garden where I can make a little space for her. 

A little English garden for my Nana.