How hard can it be... TO SEW YOUR OWN SWIMSUIT?
POSSIBLY ONE OF THE HARDEST-WORKING, THOUGH LEASTLOVED ITEMS IN MANY WARDROBES, IS MAKING YOUR OWN COSSIE THE ANSWER? ELLA FOOTE THREADS UP A SEWING MACHINE AND TAKES THE PLUNGE TO FIND OUT
No other clothing creates such a whirlwind of feelings as swimwear. Like underwear but designed to be worn in public, it’s the closest you get to being naked in front of other people. Finding something supportive, comfortable and also possibly even stylish for your body comes with all sorts of issues and emotions. Before even considering how you might feel about your body in swimwear around others, there’s the impossible task of finding a suit that fits you. Maybe, I wondered, it would be easier to make my own?
For context, I have never been gifted with a needle and thread; I can just about sew on a button. At school, despite my teacher’s efforts, I never managed to complete textile work successfully. A combination of impatience and lack of natural intuition with a sewing machine led to all sorts of disasters. As an adult I envy those who can create something for themselves to wear, a unique, exactly fitting garment made from fabric that reflects their tastes and personality.
As a swimming teacher, coach and guide, I spend most days in a swimsuit. Seeking one that fits my rotund body, that doesn’t disappear up my bottom or leave red, gouged marks on my shoulders has been a challenge – usually at least one part of my body is sacrificed as a result. Working with a range of people has helped me make peace with the fact that very few like their bodies or feel comfortable in swimwear. It’s sad really, so many apologies for this and that as they wriggle into ill-fitting garments. The phrase, “it’ll do” is muttered as towels are thrown over strong, healthy bodies in despair. So how hard can it be to have swimwear that fits?
Then I discovered The Swimming Seamstress, Amanda Bowden (theswimmingseamstress.co.uk), who found her way to the water through sewing. As a trained textile teacher, she offers a variety of sewing and craft classes at her
home sewing school. When she isn’t swim training in the North
Sea, she hosts swimwear-making workshops across the country, as well as online and at her Suffolk home in Felixstowe. As well as a warm welcome, Amanda offers an abundance of patience, which is why I decided to try her class.
The lesson begins before I even meet Amanda. After enrolling, she sends instructions on how to measure my body and where to order fabric with the technical requirements needed for swimwear. Both need to be done ahead of the lesson. I avoid measuring myself for weeks before receiving a gentle prompt from her. It’s only when I find myself grumpily wrestling with a tape-measure and seriously considering cancelling that I realise that I’m part of the problem. Lesson one: facing your body for what it is and what is can do is more important that what it looks like.
Amanda’s sewing room is exactly how you dream it might be: in the heart of a beautiful townhouse, filled with jars of buttons, a rainbow of thread and boxes of fabric. Four others and I sit with our sewing machines, mine borrowed – it’s possible to make swimwear on a standard home machine. We begin by getting to know technical fabric. I’m the least experienced and the way fabric behaves in the machine is alien to me, but by working with a small selection of different fabric off-cuts, I understand the basics – like how Lycra will behave differently to cotton when sewing.
Amanda prepares paper patterns based on each of our body measurements, which we lay out on our chosen fabric, cut and prepare. Here’s where the joy of making your own comes in: scoop-back, racer-back, or two-piece suit, whatever your preference, you can make it. The patterns are also adapted to be able to make suits outside of standard sizing ranges, or with modifications such as bust panels and mastectomy pockets
It feels uncomfortable seeing my body as a flat plan, bigger than I imagine it looks. We work in pairs to prepare the fabric and lining for sewing. I find it difficult. Not being a regular sewer (or not having used a sewing machine in about 25-years) I feel clumsy and slow. Amanda is calm, patient and good humoured as the machine chews up my fabric. I need a lot more help than the others, but I don’t feel like a burden. By the end of the first day, I have something that resembles the back of a swimsuit, with two panels sewn together and a collection of pieces ready for day two.
A two-day workshop may sound surprising for such a small garment, but it makes you appreciate the complexity involved. As our suits begin to take shape, Amanda helps to tweak and amend to ensure a suitable fit. After trying on my suit, we decide to add additional bust and leg panels to give me better coverage. Her experience is truly what makes the class so much fun, along with her tricks of the trade, such as dissolvable tape and spray glue to help with the project, which I’d never have know about or even how to use.
The finished suit feels like no other I’ve ever owned. It fits so well; I barely feel like I’m wearing it. Unlike any other swimwear I own, this is made for my body and all its unique lumps and bumps. As well as the paper pattern, notes and understanding to be able to make many more suits, I also leave with a new respect for swimwear designers and – perhaps most importantly – more compassion for my own body.
“Unlike any other swimwear, this is made for my body and its unique lumps and bumps”