After excessive swearing, screaming, annoyance at a sewing machine, needles in fingers and other such disastrous goings-on, there is a bird costume awaiting a school dress up day. I can't even say it's my least worst work, but I'm tired and angry at inanimate objects - time to call it quits....on the up side, I'm sure Leandra will fix it for me in the morning....
If you have ever looked at me or something I have done and I have given you the impression that I am just naturally creative and clever, I'm sorry. This is going to put those thoughts to rest. I am a unique combination of procrastination and perfectionism. This is my curse, which really came home to roost last night. Cue wibbly lights and twinkly backstory music...
Last Friday I dug a flyer out of Leandra's bag. It said they were having a dress up day at school for the SPCA. All the kids were to come as their favourite animal and bring a gold coin for a collection. Fair enough, great cause - one we regularly support. I ask her on Wednesday, "what are you going as?" She says she would quite like to be a bird. But gives me no indication of what kind.
Thursday night comes and when I ask again she says she would like to be a kiwi. I knew I had some brown fabric hidden away from years ago. I can't remember what I bought it for, but its lycra stuff with a rubbery horse hair/leather look topping. I get the fabric out and I say to her "how about this?" She is thrilled and tells me how she'd like it. I measure it against her, then I get the sewing machine out. This is where everything went downhill, because the fabric is rubbery and I haven't used my sewing machine in at least two years (sorry Mum!).
I can't remember how to thread the machine. I can't remember if I have thread on the bobbin or how to remove it to check. I'm basically a total beginner with my own machine. Once I finally figure out how to do everything again, and almost cut myself on a random razor blade...I'm ready to begin. I started to sew a side seam, basing this on a top I own that seemed like an easy design. The sewing machine and the fabric almost violently disagree to working together.
The machine wants the fabric to easily slide through as the machine sews. The fabric wants to stick to the foot and the gripper underneath. This causes the fabric is shift and yet not shift for every stitch of the needle. After the twentieth stitch and no apparent movement, I set my frosty gaze to "die!" and throw the fabric on the floor. Next I pick it up and think, I'll cut the neck out. Yup, I'll do that. I'll just do it. There's no need to measure, draw the line of it on the fabric or use a template at all. I'm just going to get cutting.
So I get the scissors and as I cut not only does this fabric stick to my scissor, it slips and moves. After I finish hacking this neckline into the fabric, it doesn't look too bad. Until I try it on my daughter and it slips right to her feet from her neck. I am now my own worse enemy, because I appear to have wasted a full 2 meters of material in less time than it took me to find it in my cupboard.
I throw it on the floor again. Feeling unsatisfied, I pick it up an throw it down again. It's just not making a satisfying enough bang or crash sound. That's probably because it is merely fabric. Its at this point that I can feel myself becoming irrationally angry at this fabric and myself. My behaviour in the corner and the faces I am pulling are hilarious to Audra. She comes running and laughing for a cuddle. I decide she is right, I am a loon.
I get the girls into bed and we talk about appropriate responses to stress. Because if I'm going to feel guilty about a reaction I'm having, we may as well all learn something in the process. Once it was just me and the fabric again, I calmly re-assessed the situation. I measured, I templated, and I hand sewed. Its not perfection. Not by any means. But here she is loving it! She called herself "Roses" and she spent the first part of her day at school being chased by all the "Cats" in her class. But she loved that too.
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