Right. It took a few months, but I'm now armed with detailed reviews on my lunch-hour baby trousers from the mums of baby Joe (pictured below) and baby Surayya. Overall, the feedback has been positive, and all those initial attempts have apparantly seen a fair bit of action which I'm pleased about.
It would appear that the overall size and volume make them suitable for easily up to six months (despite the two months as stated on the initial pattern). Sophie, baby Joe's mum, requested some extra length for future pairs so they can be rolled down when he's in his carrier so his legs are well covered, and rolled up when he's chillin' having reached his destination (see above).I also received an order for four pairs as Christmas presents, including a larger size so have had to develop an eighteen month version as well. Basically, it's been baby-trouser-athon round these parts having made eight pairs last month.
My favourite pair, although arguably the dullest to look at, are the pair pictured above and below. These trousers started out life as a lightweight jumper belonging to my dad. He look a dislike to it for some reason so it got passed on to Patty. However, it was way too big for Patty (not that such a triviality would have prevented him continuing to go to work in it until I insisted he took it off and wore something else that actually looked like it belonged to him!). By that afternoon the jumper in question had become a new pair of Winter trousers for baby Joe. I lined up the bottom edge of the trouser pattern pieces with the bottom edge of the jumper so its ribbing would be included and I wouldn't have to bother finishing the hems of the final trousers.
Agh! He's so cute I have to keep looking away so my eyes don't start watering! What I loved about making this particular pair of baby trousers above the others is that it is directly making use of an unwanted garment that has gone down a small chain of owners, all of whom are very special to me. The jumper is now being enjoyed in its new incarnation, which reminds me a lot of the way women had to creatively reinterpret unwanted adult garments to clothe their children when clothing and fabric were scarce and being rationed during the Second World War, and no-doubt in many difficult times before and since the 1940's. Making a garment in a similar vein makes me feel connected to that tradition and the women before me to whom this was a regular activity. Using sewing skills in this 'old-fashioned' way, i.e. to make essential clothing that will be regularly worn increasingly inspires and appeals to me above making another pretty dress that may see two or three wears a year.
A few weeks ago, a tragic washing machine-based accident rendered my beloved black sailor trousers all shrunken, unwearable and basically dead. To be fair, they were getting really worn and faded from a lot of wear so I was ok about it. But the incident left me with only two pairs of trousers to my name (my denim sailor trousers and some secondhand Topshop black jeggings that had a rip that needed fixing to make them wearable). I spend about 80% or 90% of my time in trousers, particularly in Autumn/Winter and particularly at work, so I realised it was time to turn my attention away from making piles of baby trousers and make myself some damn trousers instead.
I think the main thing that puts me off making lots of trousers, as Ali noted, is that it is so damn hard to achieve a successful fit without heaps of effort and toiles. And fly fronts, I avoid those like the plague usually. But the style of trouser from this pattern would look funny converted to a side zip, so I decided that if I was going to bite the bullet and make a fly front, I should at least make one toile (pictured above). Now, you rarely see pictured of toiles (muslins, mock-ups, etc.) on this blog, for two reasons: they aren't very interesting, AND I almost never make them anyway. So I've included the picture above as a testimonial to this rare occurrence.
As for the finish, I have to say I created the kind of fly front that dreams are made of. Almost flawless. I bypassed the pattern's fly front instructions and instead followed the directions once given to me by a professional and incredibly experienced sample machinist. There's only one bit I don't understand in the notes I took, but I am unable to ask her to clarify as she worked at the same place I mentioned before where I got the fabric from back in 2007, and I no longer have any connection with that place. Anyways, I struggled to get a good pic so you'll have to trust me.
This thing spooks me out, especially when it stares at me with its little yellow eyes whilst I eat my breakfast.
I think the most important thing you should know about this project is that is was a total arse-on. I blogged about the pattern on which it was based (pictured below) 
Up until that point, the whole thing had been time consuming but was going pretty well. This pattern taught me how to do underarm gussets, in the same way (and at more or less the same time) as 
I know I spent a fair bit of time perving over boxy little jackets such as this whilst checking out the 
This lovely lady is teaching us that you can go out on the razzle whilst keeping relatively warm. Who needs heaps of exposed flesh to look attractive? A well-fitting bodice in lovely fabric with a couple of well-considered details (like the self-bow here, how many have we seen in this catalogue now?) and accessories, and you can look really special. This dress above is inspiring me to try making a 
Um, HOW hot is that silver fox she's hanging with?! Agh! I can hardly take it. He's like Roger Stirling and Don Draper all rolled into one. Mmmm.... Oh wait, there's a dress in this picture too! Oh, and it has an amazing scallop neckline, elegant grown-on sleeves and a well-propertioned contrast bow detail. No wonder he's sticking around.
