handmade

to some, this may not seem like a big deal, but if you knew what a novice seamstress i am, it's like the eighth wonder of the world that i just finished sewing my own shirt.  it went something like this:

day one:  take coupon to fabric store, choose linen and approach counter, it's on sale a little so the coupon doesn't apply, i want it anyway but don't know how much i need, the sales lady asks if i need pellon, i have no idea that pellon is a type of interfacing and yes, i need it.  spend small fortune.

day two:  wash the fabric, dry and iron. it frays like crazy. i look at the pattern but don't open it yet.  it says "easy" on the front, how hard could it be?

day three:  mom, help!  she gets me started with basics to do with selvage edges, pattern markings, grain, basting and brings my grandma's pinking shears (pictured above along with a real wooden spool). she is appalled to learn that i sometimes use fabric scissors to cut paper and i promise never again to commit this cardinal sin.  i apologize for not paying more attention in 4H (and reminded her of the time i snuck into the sewing room and stapled the hem of a skirt she was making for me because i wanted to wear it sooner rather than later, i never have had much patience in this department).

day four:  i take a really deep breath to invoke the seamstress spirit of my great-grandmother, grandmother and mother, clutch the shears and make my first cuts of fabric, forgetting to breathe properly for about 20 minutes.

day five:  i wind matching bobbin thread which takes me an embarrassingly long time and start putting right sides together, it works!  i remind myself out loud to have some fun.  i put in darts for the first time and i gain confidence but save the sleeves for another day (how on earth do they expect me to fit a big circle inside a small one?)

day six:  sleeves!  and a whole lot of vocabulary about under stitching and ease stitching and other things the pattern assumes that i know. i laugh out loud because i know french, write a bit of hebrew, understand latin roots, and can hold conversation about iambic pentameter and early british novels but am completely flummoxed when it comes to even the most basic terms in sewing language. words and phrases like "stay stitch" and "shrinking out fullness" vex me greatly.

day seven:  in the same amount of time it took God to create the entire universe i have constructed but one simple garment.  it fits and so i also say, "it is good" and rest.

next time maybe i should just go shopping, but then again i will never be quite so fond of a garment as i am of this one and its endearing imperfections.  after all, why go to the store when you can spend 24 collective hours of your life wrestling with fabric?