Hooded Cloak

Buy your fabric in person and feel it in your hands. That's the single most important piece of advice I can give you. Photos lie about weight and drape, and the cloak is all about how the fabric falls. I learned this the hard way when I ordered what I thought was wool from an online vendor and got home to find it was actually a polyester blend that hung like a bedsheet.

A hooded cloak breaks down into four pieces: outer shell, lining, hood, and clasp. The shell is just a circle or A-line shape. The lining mirrors it. The hood is where everything lives and dies.

Your hood needs to fit your head. Not vaguely. Specifically. I see so many cloaks where the hood is either tiny and pulls the neckline, or so loose it falls off when the wearer turns their head. The measurement that matters is your head circumference at the widest point, usually your forehead. Add an inch or two for ease and draft from there. Lay pattern paper on the floor, use a compass or string and pencil to draw the arc, cut it out, and test-fit it on your own head. Does it sit right? Does it cover your ears? Does it stay put when you move? If the answer is no to any of that, redraft before you cut into the real fabric.

I found a gorgeous charcoal wool coating at the Joann Fabrics in Pasadena for $14 a yard, and I bought six yards. That fabric cost $84 total. The lining, a smooth cotton from the discount bin at maybe $3 a yard, was another $18. Interfacing, thread, and the clasp brought me to about $110 for the whole build. You can absolutely spend less if you shop sales or find remnants, or more if you go for a fancier lining or a premium clasp.

Once your hood pattern is right, the construction is honestly soothing. Cut your outer pieces carefully, sew them together, finish the edges (I used a serger, but pinking shears work fine too), and press. Cut the lining the same way and press. Pin the hood to the neckline, sew it in, and press that seam flat. Attach your lining with a blind stitch, tiny stitches that hold without puckering. You can do this entirely by hand if you don't have a machine that's comfortable for you. The whole project took me about three weekends, maybe 12 hours of actual sewing time, because there's a lot of pressing and fitting.

The clasp goes at your throat, hand-sewn through both layers with thread that won't break. I used upholstery-weight thread because it's thicker and stronger. Sew it at least four times through the clasp holes so it stays put when you're wearing it. Make sure the cloak itself sits loosely around your neck. You should fit two fingers in without strain. A cloak that pulls tight is uncomfortable at a convention or faire after an hour.

One thing surprised me: lining makes all the difference. The very first cloak I made, I skipped the lining to save time. It looked cheap. The seams showed, the inside was raw, and it looked like a blanket somebody sewed in an afternoon. When I added lining to the next one, suddenly it felt like a real garment. That's what separates a project from something you'll actually wear and love.