A love letter to the Zadie Jumpsuit (Paper Theory)
Dear Zadie,
From the moment I wrapped myself in your effortlessly chic silhouette, I knew we were meant to be. You are the jumpsuit equivalent of a best friend—always flattering, forgiving, and never judging when I inevitably spill tea down myself.
You have seen me through every stage of life, from feeling fabulous on a good day to providing comfort when I was pregnant and starting to expand. Post-baby, you’ve remained the ultimate easy, stylish outfit—and let me breast feed (on one side only!).
You’ve been a gift (quite literally) to my family and friends, each one appreciating your magic as much as I do. And let’s not forget the confidence boost you bring! Your ability to make me feel like I’ve actually got my life together—even when I absolutely do not—is nothing short of miraculous.
So, thank you, Zadie, for always having my back (and my front, and my waist, and my wobbly bits). Here’s to many more years of our love affair—perhaps in a few more fabric choices, because let’s be honest, one can never have too many.
With love and a very full wardrobe,
Alice
Why am I so obsessed with the Zadie Jumpsuit?
The Zadie Jumpsuit by Paper Theory has reached near-legendary status in the sewing world since its’ release in 2019. It’s the pattern that seems to have universal appeal—flattering, chic, secret-pyjama-level comfortable, and (dare I say it?) beginner-friendly. It even has its own “zadieappreciationday hashtag, which started after a certain (alleged) copyright-theft controversy in September 2020 (IYKYK).
I’d call this one of my TNT patterns (“tried and true” for any non-sewing folk reading this), having whipped up six Zadie jumpsuits—three for me, three gifted—plus a cheeky dress and top variation (see my collection below for deets). That said, I wouldn’t quite grant myself the title of Professor Zadie just yet. There’s still a short version and a long-sleeved iteration calling my name… and who am I to ignore them?
But does it live up to the hype? In my opinion, yes, and so I’m writing this belated review out of pure, unfiltered obsession. No one’s paying me (tragically), and all opinions are my own.
My Zadie Collection
The Three Zadie Jumpsuits
I made my first Zadie jumpsuit in February 2021, mere weeks before I packed up my life and moved across the world to Australia—during lockdown, no less. Clearly, I had my priorities straight: why waste time packing when I could be sewing? I’d wanted to make a jumpsuit forever, but they were usually either disastrously unflattering or made me look like a mutton dressed as lamb.. Then along came the Zadie, and my prayers were answered. Naturally, it took me another two years to actually sew it.
Like any self-respecting sewist, I started with a wearable toile (which, regrettably, I never took photos of). I went for a size 10, with my measurements at the time sitting at bust 94cm, waist 73cm, and hips 103cm. The bust fit well, but the crotch? Absolutely drowning in fabric. So, I took 2.5cm off the rise for a better fit. I also swapped out the back pleats for darts because, well, I preferred the look. In my rush, I ignored the instructions (classic), meaning I missed a finishing step on the waistband slit. Thankfully, it was only a toile, but consider that lesson learned.
Once the toiles and tribulations were out of the way, I moved on to the real deal: a glorious green, medium-weight 100% linen from Minerva Crafts. This time, I followed the instructions properly (growth!) and stuck to my previous adjustments—2.5cm off the rise and darts instead of pleats.
Now, let’s talk about ease—there’s a lot of it in this pattern. Depending on your perspective, this either gives you a breezy, relaxed fit or makes you wonder if you’ve accidentally upsized yourself overnight. Personally, I found it magic. During my first trimester, this jumpsuit became my ultimate workwear staple, expanding right along with my bloated, human-growing body (apologies if that’s TMI, but we’re all friends here). It’s the ultimate “grab and go” outfit—beach, dinner, work, you name it.
Nearly four years later, and this bad boy is still in regular rotation. I can’t remember ever wearing a piece of RTW clothing this much, for this long, with this much joy. Sure, it had a minor washing machine mishap when the sleeve bias binding came loose (entirely my own shoddy sewing), but a quick fix later, and it was good as new.
My next Zadie jumpsuit was an almost exact replica of my green one, except for the colouring (off-white), weight (light-weight linen) and removal of the centre back seam. I made it precisely one week after the first because, obviously, my green version would be lonely without a friend. And, let’s be honest, I was procrastisewing—because I hate packing that much.
As I said, it’s an exact copy with the same modifications. I love this version too, though the lightweight linen does have its quirks. First, it’s slightly sheer, which means my underwear selection requires more thought than I usually care to give. Second, it’s not quite workwear-appropriate unless I fancy showing up looking like I’m about to lead a sermon or part the Red Sea. And finally, it’s white—which is always a risky choice for someone who, on any given day, is capable of spilling food, coffee, tea, toothpaste, or [insert staining substance here] on themselves.
This jumpsuit has even survived a red wine disaster (this time it wasn’t me!), thanks to some quick-thinking salt and bleach intervention (perks of it already being white). But sheer panic aside, the lightweight linen has been a dream to wear in the tropics—especially in the dreaded "build-up" and wet seasons, where humidity hovers above 80% and the temperature rarely drops below 35°C. Sure, I might look a bit like an extra from a low-budget biblical film, but at least I’m comfortable.
Technically, my third, fourth, and fifth Zadie jumpsuits weren’t even for me (shocking, I know). I made them for my mum and two friends, which is wildly out of character because I’m usually not so selfless with my sewing. But the beauty of this pattern is that it’s so forgiving, it’s almost foolproof—meaning I can confidently make it as a gift without the recipient having to squeeze into something that fits like a Victorian corset.
Now, back to me—because after all that generosity, I deserved another one. This time, I went bold with a red and pink linen version, because if there's one colour combination that has a chokehold on my wardrobe, it’s red and pink. So really, this jumpsuit was inevitable.
As a firm believer in the phrase, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” I stuck with my tried-and-tested modifications when making this in early 2022. However, I did have a minor existential crisis when deciding on the colour blocking. Initially, I thought about alternating the front and back pieces—so the left front would contrast with the right front, and the same for the back. But once I sewed it up, it looked like a visual headache. So, I settled on the “corner” look: left front and back in pink, right front and back in red. Hopefully, that makes sense.
Sadly, this one doesn’t quite pass the "work-appropriate" test in my profession (healthcare doesn’t tend to encourage ‘statement pieces’), but it has been fabulous for everyday wear. Plus, now that I have a baby fascinated by colours and textures, I might as well be a sensory play mat on legs.
My Zadie Dress
I then went on a bit of a Zadie hiatus (despite having many more planned in my head) due to life admin (a work exam was a biggie and applying for permanent visas and all the tests that came with that), and it wasn’t until mid-2023 that I made a dress version. I’d been dreaming of a relaxed wrap dress for years, and when I spotted this contrast gingham cotton, I thought: It is time.
I made the following modifications to the original pattern:
Bodice – Left unchanged except for cutting the back piece on the fold.
Sleeves – Added width for gathers and eased them into the drop shoulder. Made elasticated cuffs so they can be worn long or short..
Skirt – Simple rectangles, 1.5x waist measurement, long enough to prevent any Marilyn Monroe moments on a breezy day (so far)..
Waist Tie – Half the original width because I wanted a more delicate tie.
Pockets – Added to the side seams, but too low. If I made it again, I’d place them higher so I don’t have to dislocate my shoulders to reach my phone.
Despite loving the gingham fabric and the idea of this dress, the reality wasn’t quite the Pinterest vision I had in my head. The large-scale gingham was a bit overwhelming in this relaxed wrap style, and the colours washed me out (note to self: finally get my colours done in 2025). I think it would have worked much better in a smaller gingham or a solid colour.
Since I wasn’t reaching for it—despite it having pockets—I took matters into my own hands. I dyed it dark green. Did it work? Stay tuned for the transformation photos (and a blog post) soon!
My Zadie Wrap Top
My last Zadie experiment was a top, made early in pregnancy with the noble intention of carrying me through bump expansion and being breastfeeding-friendly postpartum. And for the most part, it did exactly that—I wore it loads during pregnancy, both at work and casually, and it accommodated my growing stomach with zero complaints.
Having learned my lesson from my gingham wrap dress (aka the fabric that swallowed me whole), I wisely opted for a smaller gingham print this time. But, as hindsight and these photos cruelly reveal… it still looks too big. Even though I cut out the same size as the jumpsuits, there is something about the wrap skirt or flounce that makes it look way bigger.
I made the following modifications to the original pattern:
Bodice – Left unchanged apart from cutting the back piece on the fold.
Sleeves – Lengthened and widened into a soft bishop sleeve, finished with elasticated cuffs.
Flounce – Simple rectangles, 1.5x waist measurement.
Waist Tie – Half the original width for a more delicate look.
Since having the baby, I don’t reach for this top as much as I thought I would. There’s just too much fabric swishing around, and rather than faffing about with fit adjustments, I think the fabric is destined for a second life as something else. Maybe a baby romper? Maybe a scrunchie? Maybe both?
Either way, lesson learned: There’s a fine line between ‘effortlessly oversized’ and ‘fabric monster.’ If I ever want a wrap dress in the future, I’ll take the sensible route and use an actual wrap dress pattern rather than strong-arming the Zadie jumpsuit into submission. But let’s not pretend my Zadie era is over. Oh no. As I mentioned earlier, there’s still a short version waiting to happen and a long-sleeved version (which will have to wait until I live somewhere that isn’t permanently set to ‘tropical sauna’).
Stay tuned. My love affair with Zadie is far from over.
Final Thoughts: Should You Make the Zadie?
Overall, the Zadie Jumpsuit lives up to its reputation. It’s beginner-friendly, comfortable, and endlessly stylish. Some fit quirks exist, but nothing a bit of tweaking can’t fix. If you haven’t yet tried Zadie, maybe it’s time to hop on the bandwagon. Just…brace yourself for the bias binding.
Have you made the Zadie Jumpsuit? Let me know how many you’ve made and your thoughts in the comments! Love it? Hate it? Sworn off jumpsuits forever? Spill the tea below.