Just kidding.

Whenever I’ve had a conversation with any professional seamstress–and I’m not a professional seamstress, I’m a quilter, who specializes in machine embroidery and software, and dabbles in garment sewing–they say, “I’d much rather sew from scratch than try to alter anything.”

I am now in that camp.

My sister works as a Corrections Officer in WI. (MINIMUM security). But they wear these heavy duty, government-issued work pants, with pockets in every direction, darts at the knees, etc, etc.

She was explaining to me that she now only has one pair of pants that fit, because she put on a few pounds over the last few years (who hasn’t?!) and her others no longer fit.

When she put in a request for a couple of pairs of pants the next size up, she was told that there’s a nationwide shortage of pants in that size. Seriously. She was just out of luck. And though we all think we can lose weight easily, let’s get real. Time goes by, years pass, and weight almost never goes away and stays away. (Your experience may vary.)

So as we gathered over the holidays, I told her to bring me a pair that was hopeless. If I ruin it, no big loss. She can’t wear them anyway. I thought, maybe if I look at them I could somehow let them out a bit.

Nice thought.

Once I got a look at them, I regretted every word and wish I had just sympathized and kept my mouth shut. Every seam was reinforced strong enough to withstand a drugged-up nuclear prison riot. Pockets were built inside of pockets and stitched to the outside of the pants. Belt loops were reinforced with some sort of indestructible thread. And flat-felled seams ran up the side that would make the most sense for adjustments. On top of that, her inseam was falling apart, the fabric was worn in some places, and the zipper was pulling away…we’ve all had pants we’ve tried to squeeze into one too many times.

I sighed.

I called my sister. “This is going to take longer than I thought.” Understatement of the year so far, but the year is young.

The first job was opening all the side seams. Once both pant legs were opened, I had my sister try them on, and I measured the distance I needed to add to each part of the pant legs. From those measurements, I created an insert that would start at the waistline and run down the entire leg. Obviously, both legs needed to be done. The insert was made of a cotton canvas in as close a color match as I could find. Then I lined the insert with SF 101 for body and strength. I serged it in to the side seams, and then came in with my sewing machine to give it a nicer and reinforced stitch.

In order to do this, I had to remove a stitched-on pocket that sat on the front of each leg, which was set right on top of the seam..

I don’t know if you can see it from the above image, but the front pockets were each in 3 pieces–an underpocket with compartments, and a larger pocket over the top, and a flap attached to the pant leg at the top to close the pocket. Every corner had super-reinforced seams.

Needless to say, in the course of unstitching all of this, the fabric gave out in one or two places. Not to be sidelined, I went to the computer, ordered some iron-on fabric patches from Amazon and kept working.

The patches actually worked beautifully and I think the fabric needed some reinforcements where it was getting thin anyway.

The final steps after all the unstitching was to put the waistline, the pockets and the hemline all back together again. My sister requested a little extra room in the waistline which was also a challenge, but I used a piece of fabric with some more interfacing (SF 101) again and got it done. (The waistline is elastic, with rubber-like covering, so your work shirt doesn’t come untucked.)

In this pic, I tried to lighten it a bit so you could see the strip down the side that was added to each leg.

All in all, it was a creative challenge.

That I really never want to do again.

While using the seam ripper at one point, it slipped and shoved itself up under one of my cuticles. Yes. It was as horrid as it sounds.

But I lived.

I still have to deliver these to my sister and have her try them on. I know they will be more comfortable than they were. And if they’re not? Well, it wasn’t a complete waste of my time. I learned about the construction and dissection of work pants. Leonardo DaVinci worked the same way, you know, taking apart dead bodies to study anatomy.

But the real lesson is that if my sister wants another pair of work pants altered, I will purchase a seam ripper for her.

I’m happy to do the sewing, if someone else does all the unsewing.

Finally, my Kudos to the workers on industrial machines in Mexico who apparently make these pants for a living (The tag says made in Mexico). I salute you.

These pants should be worth $10,000 in labor. I don’t blame you for stopping work, folding your arms and causing a nationwide shortage.

I would be doing the same thing.