When Things Get a Bit Madder: The Art (and Maths) of Pattern Making

Last year, I took a Pattern Cutting course — the kind focused on clothing, where you learn to make your own blocks and tailor them to your shape. I loved it. There’s something incredibly satisfying about understanding how flat shapes become three-dimensional, and how tiny adjustments can completely change the way something fits or flows.

Since then, I’ve started using those skills to create my own pattern blocks for bags. It felt like a natural step — combining my love of structure, fabric, and the shapes I see people carrying around town. Some ideas come straight from nature, others from street corners or market queues. A silhouette I spot in passing often becomes a little sketch, and eventually a paper pattern on my sewing table.

This is also where the calm, gentle energy of Madder & Moss sometimes gets — well, a bit madder. Some shapes are gloriously simple (the Origami bag really is just a square folded with intent). Others have taken a lot more maths than I expected. Let’s just say I now have a deeper appreciation for geometry than I ever did at school.

At one point I got completely fixated on adding diagonal pintucks. It looked beautiful in my head — soft structure, angled lines, a bit of drama. But my skills (and my patience) weren’t quite ready. For now, I’m focusing on simple, usable shapes — ones that come alive through pleats, darts, and the way fabric naturally wants to move.

That said… those diagonal pintucks are still calling.