This material that really needs to be felt
The sewing machine may seem intimidating at first, but once you spend some time with the instructions, you quickly learn the purpose of each knob and button. It's almost like the machine is handed to us with an instruction manual on how to use it. But what about the materials we sew with? Unlike the machine, there’s no manual to guide us. We use fabrics and knits every time we sew, but do we truly understand their full potential? What should we know to fully unlock all the possibilities they offer?

Have you heard of kirigami? It’s a variation of origami where paper is cut to create shapes. When I first started learning about garment construction, I thought it was just like folding paper—that you cut flat shapes, and when you join them together, they form a three-dimensional piece.
In some ways, I was right. But in other ways, I really wasn’t.
Unlike paper, fabric is alive with movement. I’ve shared before how the structure of materials—how threads intertwine—combined with their weight and fibre type, forms a unique combination that gives fabric its distinct properties.
Fabric stretches, shrinks, and even breaks. When sewing, it’s not about perfectly matching lengths to fit together like paper would. While there are countless things you can’t do with paper, fabric offers endless possibilities. It has a natural flow and grace that paper lacks. But to truly understand fabric, we need to consider its thickness, stretch, and weight—qualities that don’t apply to paper and can’t be calculated in the same way.
Sewing is a continuous journey of humility, acknowledging how much there is still to learn. Every time I discover a new technique for working with fabric that defies logic or math, I am in awe. Not long ago, I learned that the way you iron your trousers can directly affect how well they fit. There are endless little gems of knowledge like this. For example, did you know that a sleeve sewn on the bias is far more comfortable than one sewn along the grain? Or that you can create the perfect collar corners just by using your fingers?

Of course, we’re all familiar with the flipside—like when a dress stretches out from hanging on an ill-fitting hanger, or a lining pops out from a skirt after washing because it shrank less than the outer fabric. These issues often arise when the behavior of textiles isn’t properly accounted for during the design or manufacturing process.
Unfortunately, even mass production isn’t immune to these mistakes. For us home sewists, it’s an ongoing challenge to acquire the knowledge needed to navigate these intricacies and apply them effectively.
Understanding fabric is something that can’t truly be taught online. I often receive messages from customers who’ve sewn something they’re proud of, but the fabric just doesn’t behave the way they expected. I can relate—early in my sewing journey, I often made the mistake of choosing fabrics based solely on their look or structure, without considering their intended use. These mistakes have become less frequent over time, but they still happen.
Learning to understand fabric is a lifelong journey.
That’s why today’s advice is less about specific tips and more about developing an instinct for how a material will behave. It’s all about learning to anticipate the way fabric will act.

Before you sew, ask yourself questions like:
- Will the garment be too light or too heavy?
- Will the fabric be too thick when layers are joined together?
- Does it need to have some stretch, or can it be a stiffer fabric?
- Will it wrinkle easily?
The answers to these questions will come with experience, but they start by considering how the fabric feels, moves, and reacts.
Here’s my wish for all sewists: Let’s be kind to our fabrics. Let’s stretch, but not overdo it. Let’s tuck, iron, and shape with care. And even before we buy, let’s take the time to feel how the fabric moves and how much stretch it has. I’m confident that with this approach, we’ll all become better sewists.
Do you remember your first fabric disappointments? Maybe a dress that didn’t turn out as planned because the fabric was too slippery or stretchy? Or, perhaps a fabric that turned out to be a lifesaver, gracefully salvaging a poorly cut design? Let me know your stories!