Garment cutting in the twentieth century

by Günther F. Hertzer

Chips and Whetstones.

A sweep from the point of the angles, as at 80, will make a horizontal line when the pants are on and inflated with the body. No squaring from any one line will make it perfectly horizontal all around. The sweeps from the points of the angles will always be together when the pants are correctly sewed up and flat upon the table. Said sweeps will not fit together in all positions, if made from any other points, which proves their common center; and they will always be found reliable for the connection of the leg seams when the front is cut small and the back wide, and for squaring the bottom of pants.

Never change the angle of seven and a half degrees as a base.

Never try to find the perpendicular and horizontal lines on a pants, except for a person who always stands perfectly still; and as no such persons are found, said lines are therefore useless.

Allowance in the curve of the back of a pants cannot spread like the front, but will hang there like a bag, and may even cut the seat.

Extra width should never be allowed in the back of the crotch; better allow it over the hip. Allowing extra width in the crotch is just like allowing extra cloth on the front of the armhole,—it makes the whole smaller.

The trick in altering any garment is to first ascertain what will make it worse, and then make the contrary alteration. Example: If a pants cuts in the seat pinch the top of the sides together, which will make it worse, then put a wedge in the top of the side seam, and reduce again in the center of back.

If you find your pants too large or too small do not change the drafts, but take the measure smaller or larger, as the case may be. Take the seat measure close, like measuring a barrel, and have no slack.

Your customer’s pants waist must be as large as what he measures when he is in a sitting position. A man’s waist in that attitude may expand anywhere from one to five inches.

A waist-band made according to the old teachings, as three-fourths inches more than half measures, will not stand the test, and is a delusion.

If a customer tells you to make his clothing very large, he means that it should not be too small. If he instructs you to make it tight, he means that he wants it not too large. Either will be returned if it does not come up to his actual wants.

If a customer gives you a thousand and one directions, take them all in, study what he wants, or what he really needs, make his garment accordingly, and he will usually turn out as a customer not hard to please. But if he tells you that you are the tailor; that you know best what he wants; that you shall make it according to your judgment, do not think that he will take anything, for he will usually turn out to be a very particular customer, who expects you to know your business.

Remember that old men require a larger seat—that is, a larger back slope in their pants; because, in aged persons, the seat actually caves downward, hence old persons grow shorter.

Give boys considerable straddle in their pants, not only for comfort, but for the more important reason that boys should never have any pressure on their sexual organ. Thousands of young men go to their early graves because some silly tailor made their pants too tight, by which they learned to abuse themselves.

Better talk half an hour with your customer after he has been measured, in order to observe his build, rather than to spend half a day in altering afterwards.

Do not consider yourself too expert a cutter not to try on the coat you cut. No cutter is infallible. But trying on a coat without sleeves will be found “no good.”

Your trade will depend upon how you please your customers, not how cheaply you work.

The best customer is he who trusts you, and the worst is he whom you trust.

As long as your customer believes that no one else can fit him, you will have his patronage.

A cash customer’s trade is lost as soon as you trust him.

Trust no man for his wedding suit, even if you ever do get your pay; you will earn it over again by “dunning” him.

The best way to collect bad debts, is never to scatter any around you.

A large funeral is had only by those who collect their dues.

You may feel happier if you give a poor man a suit of clothing. Try it.

You will surely be angry if you trust a so-called “gentleman” and get caught—better not try it; but put your trust in God.

Do not try to alter a faulty waist by changing the neck of a coat, or vice versa. You will always fail.

Do not try to convince your customer that you have sold him a suit too cheap. You will lose him, for he expects that you will endeavor to make it up if he gives you another chance, and therefore will buy the next suit elsewhere.

If an old customer begins to grumble, try to pacify him, but if you cannot, better let him go for a time; he will be so much better when he returns.

A new customer may be “cranky” when he starts in with you, but if you treat him right he may turn out to be your best one.

To make a nice edge on worsted goods without binding, work the underside with a button-hole stitch and fill the edge like broadcloth. It takes a few hours extra work to make such an edge for a coat, but it saves the binding, and it makes a neat job for anyone who does not want binding on the edges of his garments. Reasonable stretching of the edges of a button-hole, while making, is better than drawing the edges together.

Cords to work button-holes over should be made by twisting three or four fine threads of silk together, and doubling it and letting that twist together again. This will make a strong cord, which will not fade like gimp or linen thread.

Corded pockets on ravelly material should be sewed double, not one seam on top of the other, but one alongside of the other.

Next to natural gas, gasoline is the cheapest and the most convenient fuel for heating irons in the hot season. Gasoline will loosen and destroy all gum at the pants bottom, or wherever it is used. Gasoline is the best article to clean straw goods, if used with a brush, and it is the best and cheapest article to remove grease, or any spots from cloth. To remove fresh paint spots from cloth, soak the paint with some kind of oil, common coal oil will do, until the paint becomes loose and soft; then wash out with soap and water. This will not injure the cloth, nor will it require any scraping whereby the nape or surface of the cloth is made threadbare.

Guarantee nothing but the fit and good sewing; all other guarantees are worthless to either party. How can you guarantee the color of any material when you know that rain and sun and time will change even the color of a live animal? Guarantee the color only so far as to be as good as any other of that kind, or as far as you know, and your customer will always be satisfied with you if not with the color of his garment.

Pieces of silesia are just as good for stays as Holland linen is; therefore cut your sleeve lining or your vest lining out of the whole cloth.

As a general rule, garments should be made up with very little wadding. I have made my vests without wadding for years and no customer has found fault. Black wadding should never be used for vests, it soils the lining.

Some, especially young cutters, may not know the following, but to them it will be worth the price of this book: If a coat is too small in the breast and no outlet anywhere, cut the canvas, and all lining and all padding through downward, and at the center of the breast, and insert a wedge of say one inch, after which the outside can be stretched that much, and the stretching will never go back. If the armholes are too small and no outlets, and the breast will become too small if the armholes are cut forward, cut the lining and padding through, under the arm down to the waist, insert a wedge of say one inch and stretch an artificial wedge in the outside until the armhole is large enough; this works always. It may cost a good deal to alter such a coat, but if a coat is worth altering at all it is worth altering right, and it is better to spend a few dollars for alteration than to throw the coat away; but you must be a cutter or a bushelman who knows how to do it.

To find an angle of 135 deg., go up and sidewise equal distances and strike a line as in Dia. [IV].

An angle of 135 deg. is one square, and one-half square divided from corner to corner.

The angle of 120 deg. consists of two points of the circle, as shown in Dias. [XI] and [XII]; each point is 60 deg.

The Equilateral Triangle consists of three equal lines, each line of which is 60 deg., like in Dia. [XII].

To find the angle of 15 deg., spread two lines one-fourth of their length, or 20 in. long and 5 in. wide.

To find the angle of 7½ deg., spread two lines one-eighth of their length, or 80 in. long and 10 in. wide.

If I had known something of geometry, it would have saved me years of labor on this book, but somehow we all must dig for our living, and sometimes our digging is very uncertain, and we may find things which we never dug for. Such is the ways of an Allwise Providence, and it is a blessing, maybe in disguise, that we must grope in the dark; but when everything around us is dark and uncertain, we should put “Our trust in God,” and we will be brought from “Darkness to Light,” in due time.

A short lecture to young cutters: “The glory of young men is their strength, and the beauty of old men is their gray head.” Young cutters, do not spend your strength on fast women, nor do you exchange your money or your beauty for strong drink; you need all of it when you are old, and all of it you should have while young. As a general rule old cutters are useless. You may kick against such a fate to your heart’s content, but it will do you no good. The old must decline. As it is not natural for young women to court the attention of old men, so it is not natural for young men to patronize old cutters or tailors. Merchant tailoring, without young men’s patronage, will, and must always be a failure. Forget it not! Forget it not!

How to treat an apprentice: I commenced in March, 1848, to learn tailoring. I worked three years for nothing; my parents furnished me with clothing and boarding. There were only two houses between my parents and that of my master, and some of my folks always called me when ready to eat, and I had to come back when eating was done; there was no such a thing as an hour of rest at any meal. The first two years of my apprenticeship were, I believe, worse than the lot of any slave. In summer time I had to come to work at least at five in the morning, and after about one and one-half hours work, I had to get breakfast, and thus I kept on until dark, which was near nine in that latitude and in the longest days. In fall and winter I had to be there at six in the morning and keep up till nine in the evening, and three or four weeks before any holiday I had to work till midnight and all day Sunday. For all this I do not remember to have received more than “zwei groshen” as spending money, during the first two years. But the master worked at the same rate, and in the spring of 1850 he died of consumption. After that the widow carried on the business, and a new foreman, Mr. Geo. Hase, treated me more human. As a general thing, he would not let me work over twelve hours a day, and every now and then he gave me a few “groshen” for spending money, and the Lord has blessed him with a long life, and so far as I know he is still living in Crawford Co., O., and well and hearty, and as an ex-soldier, draws a good pension from “Uncle Sam.” But I must return to my first two years serfdom. I had to sew all the seams; I was nothing but a sewing machine, and after one year’s slavery I could sew like lightning and that was all that I had learned during that time. I was constantly driven to sew faster, in order that others might go ahead with their work, and in my misery to escape from such a “hell-hole,” I conceived this wish: If I could contrive something by which means I could make stitches as fast as I could count, I should not care if I had to give “Old Harry” a deed for myself, for all time to come. Boys may have ideas, too, and this was one of them. At that time I had no idea that that same thing was just then completed in America, and that, too, without the help of the devil. Well, after I came to America in 1852 and found that just then sewing machines were completed, and that they sewed even faster than I could count, I was very glad that I was fortunate enough not to be the inventor of one, though there were millions in it. I would always consider that Old Harry would appear and prove a just claim against me. I started this point to tell how to treat a boy, but I should have said: “How not to treat him.” But I must start in again. During the last fifteen years I have instructed seven boys, and I have found that boys of sixteen to seventeen years of age are the best to instruct. Such boys are able to work, while younger ones are too tender to be kept constantly at work, and older ones soon think themselves too smart, or too big to obey, but even if they are obedient, they are naturally harder to instruct, especially when they commence running after the girls. There are exceptions, however, and I would sooner instruct an intelligent boy of twenty years, if I were satisfied that his mind was made up to learn. Take only healthy, intelligent boys, who went to school, and are willing to work. I have rejected several boys whose parents came to me saying: “He is not fit for much, but he is good enough for a tailor,” or, “he is lying around on the street, and we want him to go to the tailor shop, so he learns to do something,” etc. Well, as long as a boy is fit to be a tailor, well and good, he needs no other qualification, but the qualifications to become a good tailor are just as various as that of a lawyer, or a doctor, or a preacher. If a boy is not brought up to work, but has been loafing most of the time, I would not risk him as an apprentice. After all other things are considered, and the apprentice is to be taken, make as good a bargain with him or his parents, as you can. Get him as cheap as you can; tell him that tailoring is all work, with not much fun in it, and make him work regular hours, and any boy can stand ten hours work. Give him to understand that he is not to be a slave, though he must work, and if he pays attention to the work and learns fast, and does what can reasonably be expected, give him a word of praise and a quarter or half a dollar weekly for his special use, and when a show comes around, or something special goes on, give him a ticket and a holiday and you will have the good will of the boy, and that will repay you for any liberality you may bestow upon him. My way of instructing boys was this: To learn to sew a back-stitch by hand, to fell on patches, to get acquainted with the sewing machine, to clean, oil and operate it, on straight seams first. Next teach him to baste up the sleeves and to make the sleeves on common coats if any such are made. Teach him to make inside coat pockets, hip pockets in pants if it can be done, then gradually show him how to make a pocket for the outside of a coat, teach him to baste and to pad the canvass and padding over the breast. Show him how it is to be done, and why it is to be done so, and not otherwise. If he makes anything wrong, explain it again, and again. Never scold and call hard names, and if you say some harsh words to him, speak that much more pleasant to him a few minutes later. Make him understand that you can smile over one of his mistakes and that he must not hide them, and that he will make mistakes as long as he works at tailoring, and that all tailors are in the same condition and therefore must watch themselves. A boy with a sensible instructor can learn the above in six months, and then he is worth something, and within one year from the start a boy can learn to make a fair sack coat, and in another year he ought to be able to make a tolerable good coat, pants and vest. Boys should be taught to make pants and vests besides making coats, in order that they may be able to instruct others, should occasion require. As soon as a boy is able to handle a needle, he should be set to work, to spend any time he may have to spare, in making button holes, which may be just as well done, in the beginning as in the end. Let boys work button holes in patches, and in a few weeks they may be able to make button holes in the flys of pants, and by the end of two years they are able to make a good button hole.

It is also a good idea for boys to become acquainted with cutting garments as soon as possible. They will learn faster, because they have more interest in tailoring, and are stimulated by the hope of becoming cutters in due time; and even if they never become cutters, they will be so much better tailors if they know how to cut. It is true not all good tailors will make good cutters, and vice versa, but “cutting” is considered a higher degree of tailoring, and every tailor ought to know something about the cutting and the fitting of the garments he makes.

From the “Boston Transcript”:—

THE TAILOR.

The tailor is a very worthy person, notwithstanding his occupation, like that of the enemy of mankind, is to sew tears.

You can hardly call him a person, as it takes nine of him to make a man. Therefore when anybody asks you if a tailor is a man, you must answer, Nein. A tailor, in fact, is but one-ninth of a man, a vulgar fraction. This makes him a little man, or a manikin, and therefore to man akin. Hence, for convenience sake, I will call him a man.

Most men reap what they sow, but the tailor reverses the process and sews what he rips. He is generally kept hard at work, as his business is most of the time pressing. Sometimes he is quite poor, but need never go hungry, as he always has a goose, and finds no difficulty in getting all the cabbage he wants.

Some people complain of the tailor because he is generally behind time with their garments; but the tailor doesn’t care to sell clothes on time, and in fact he suits most of his customers.

Many mean things are quoted against the tailor, but he gets even by coating those who talk about him. No matter how he seems in society, a good tailor always seams when about his work.

There is one thing very strange about the tailor. Although the pantaloons he turns out are constructed on correct principles, he makes them all cross-legged. Like other men he pants for renown, but is mainly concerned for the renown of his pants. If you say ought against his trousers, I trow, sirs, he will give you fits. No matter how he may wear with others, the tailor tries to make others wear well. If he trusts you for your breeches, do not repay his kindness by breaches of trust.

He cuts his cloth economically, and yet much of it goes to waist.

The tailor is as good as man in general, but I never knew but one General Taylor who achieved especial distinction.

Some people object to the tailor on account of his bill; but it must be admitted that a little bill is beak coming.

The tailor is a great student of human nature. He takes the measure of every one of his customers. Of this you may surely speak. The tailor is full of pluck. I have seen him collar a man twice as big as himself, and he did it coolly and without choler.

The good tailor never slops over, though he puts in much time over slop work. The tailor cuts to order and orders to cut.

One thing must be said in his dispraise. He is the most inveterate fellow to buttonhole a man you ever saw. Another thing: Notwithstanding almost everybody cares more about the outside than the inside of his coat, the tailor will make the inside more lasting than the outside.

He makes custom work and will work for your custom. Too often when his work is done he has to dun his customer for the pay. The tailor owes his living to sin, for through sin came cloth; but though one of the cloth, the tailor is not a clergyman, who also, by the way, gets his living through sin.

Address him at the old stand, and a dress he will make you.

From the “American Tailor.”

BLUE MONDAY.

The cutter who is afraid of Monday is as miserable as his deadliest enemy could wish. Saturday the coats which he has seen tried on were all more or less faulty. One was too large, another too small; one kicked at the waist, another was too large at blade; one creased through the shoulder, another fell away from the neck; one sawed the ears and another would not cover the collar button of the shirt. He goes to bed Saturday wondering if the boss has made up his mind to give him Hail Columbia or the grand bounce. He awakes Sunday, nervous and fidgety, and feels that he would like to have some one die suddenly and leave him a fortune so that he could run away and hide his misery. At noon he thinks he may, after all, come out all right. At night he wonders how many suits will come back on the morrow, and when he sleeps he dreams of processions of angry men walking over him with misfit garments, and a disgusted employer trying to persuade him that he is a complicated idiot. Monday morning he goes to the shop reluctantly, smiles with a sickly assumption of confidence, shakes and trembles as he says “Good morning,” and wants to perform the knot hole act as the first bundle of clothing is returned. It is all right to

“Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,”

but when it comes to downright agony, we are of the opinion that the cutter who is afraid of Monday can discount the “poor old man” and is entitled to unlimited commiseration. He is miserable beyond imagination, crushed, chronically, into mental jelly, and rendered abject and ridiculous by the haunting fear of returning bundles.

The awful terrors of each Monday’s morn,

Make the poor cutter wish he were not born.

Nov. 26th, 1891, 4 p. m.

This is Thanksgiving day and I am glad I can say: This work has been finished to-day, except corrections which must yet be made. This means that I have spent most of this legal holiday by working on the manuscript of this book, and I hope that some of my fellow workmen will be benefited by it.

But I cannot let this opportunity pass without publicly acknowledging the guiding hand of an Allwise Providence, which has been visible to me in the past and in whose power I trust. I know of no better way to express my feelings at the present hour than to repeat the first and last verses of that beautiful German hymn which was sung in church this morning:

1. Lobe der Herren o meine Seele!

Ich will ihn loben bis zum Tod;

Weil ich noch Stunden auf Erden zähle,

Will ich lobsingen meinen Gott.

Der Leib und Seele gegeben hat,

Werde geprießen früh und spät.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

8. Rühmet ihr Menschen den hohen Namen

Deß, der so große Dinge thut!

Alles was Obem hat ruse Amen!

Und bringe Lob mit frohem Muth.

Ihr Kinder Gottes, lobt und preis’t

Vater und Sohn und heil’gen Geist.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Aug. 15th, 1892.

FORTY YEARS OF GRACE.

On the 15th day of August, 1852, I was a passenger on a sailing ship nearly in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. On that night we had a storm of a pretty good size, and the way our old ship was rocking us, it seemed to me that I would never see daylight again. Well, that condition of things will learn a poor sinner to pray, and learned me to pray at least for that night, and in my prayer of that awful night I promised the Lord, that if he would deliver me from the Perils and Dangers of that night, I would always keep the 15th day of August as a day to offer especial thanks to Him as my Deliverer. Well the Lord seems to have heard my prayer and that storm passed off and now—forty years after that time, I am able to record it in the pages of this book. I feel as though I cannot close this work unless I give at least one page of it to the praise of Him from whom all blessings flow, and who is able to deliver us from all dangers.

But I must acknowledge that I have not fulfilled the promise of the night of the 15th of August, 1852, at least not in that sense in which I made it, though I have remembered it every year but one, when it slipped my mind until a few days after. Some of my readers may say that it is silly to write the above in this book, but I think any place is good enough to give thanks and praise to the Lord.