There is a moment, when a pair of curtains is finally hung and falls perfectly to the floor, that never loses its satisfaction — no matter how many times you experience it. The fabric settles. The light changes. The room is transformed. But reaching that moment is the result of dozens of careful decisions made long before needle meets cloth.

In over two decades of making curtains at the highest level — beginning with my years crafting bespoke drapery for Harrods — I have come to believe that the hanging of a curtain is just as important as its making. A beautifully sewn curtain, hung poorly, will disappoint. A simpler curtain, hung with precision and care, can be quietly magnificent.

These are the principles that have guided my work from the very beginning, and that I bring to every commission at Jilly Mac today.

Begin with the architecture, not the fabric

The first question I always ask when beginning a curtain commission is not 'what fabric are you drawn to?' It is: 'tell me about the window.' The proportion, position, and architectural context of a window determines everything that follows — the heading style, the drop, the stack-back, the track or pole position, and ultimately the weight and handle of the fabric that will suit it best.

A tall sash window in a Georgian townhouse has entirely different requirements from a wide picture window in a contemporary house. A window that sits close to a corner demands a different approach to one positioned in the centre of a generous wall. Understanding the architecture first means that every subsequent decision serves the space — rather than fighting it.

“The pole or track is not a finishing detail. It is the foundation upon which everything else depends.”
The pole or track: more than a practical matterI find that clients often treat the choice of curtain pole or track as an afterthought — something to finalise once the fabric has been chosen. In my view, this is the wrong way around. The fixing point of a curtain determines its visual weight, its movement, and crucially, the drama or restraint of its fall.

As a general principle, hang higher than feels instinctive. Fixing a pole close to the ceiling — even in a room that is not especially tall — draws the eye upward and makes both the window and the room feel larger. The curtain itself becomes an architectural element rather than a window dressing. I was taught this principle early in my career, and it has never once let me down.

The depth of the return — the distance between the front of the pole or track and the wall — matters enormously too. A generous return allows the curtain to clear the window frame cleanly when drawn back, ensuring maximum light and an elegant stack. Too shallow a return and the curtain will bunch awkwardly against the frame, losing all its poise.

Drop: the most unforgiving measurement
“The drop is the most unforgiving measurement in curtain-making. There is nowhere to hide a mistake.”
In curtain-making, there is no more important measurement than the drop, and none that punishes imprecision more harshly. A curtain that falls even half an inch short of where it should rests as a constant, nagging visual disappointment. A curtain that puddles an inch too much on the floor looks careless rather than luxurious.

There are three classical relationships between a curtain's hem and the floor, and each creates a different effect. A clean break — where the hem rests just at the floor, perhaps a centimetre clear — is precise, tailored, and works beautifully in formal or contemporary rooms. A slight kiss of the floor, where the fabric rests just lightly against the boards or carpet, lends softness and warmth. And a true puddle — a deliberate train of fabric pooling on the floor — is unabashedly romantic and is best reserved for rooms of real ceremony and grandeur.

I take the drop measurement at multiple points across the width of every window I work on. Floors are rarely as level as they appear, and a curtain that sits correctly at the centre of a window may hover above the floor at one end and drag at the other. These small differences are accounted for in the making — invisibly, but deliberately.

Dressing: the step that most people skipOnce a curtain is hung, it needs to be dressed. This is the process of training the fabric into its folds and allowing those folds to set — and it is the step that separates a truly fine installation from an ordinary one.
To dress a curtain properly, each fold is carefully arranged by hand, working from the heading down to the hem, encouraging the fabric into soft, regular pleats that follow the natural drape of the cloth. The curtain is then tied loosely — I use strips of lining fabric, never anything that will mark — and left, ideally overnight. In a heavier fabric such as velvet or a lined wool, this dressing process can take a full day to set. In a lighter linen or cotton, a few hours may suffice.

The results are worth every moment of patience. A dressed curtain has a quiet authority — an evenness and composure — that an undressed curtain never achieves, no matter how beautiful the fabric. It is the difference between a curtain that was installed and one that was finished.

A final thought on proportion
Fullness — the ratio of fabric width to the width of the window — is the last principle I will mention, and perhaps the one that is most frequently misjudged. A curtain that lacks fullness looks meagre and thin, whatever the quality of the fabric. The fabric cannot drape; it hangs flat and defeated.

As a general rule, I work to a fullness of at least two and a half times the track or pole width for most heading styles, and often more for gathered or pinch-pleated headings in heavier fabrics. This feels generous when the curtains are drawn back, but when they are closed, the fabric has the weight and substance to create those deep, even folds that are the hallmark of a truly well-made curtain.

These principles are not complicated, but they require care and precision to apply. They are the foundation of everything I do at Jilly Mac — and the reason, I believe, that the curtains I make look as beautiful in a room as they do on the cutting table.

Jill McIntyre
Founder, Jilly Mac
jillymacmade.com