I sew so-so.

Just so-so. And yet every year or two, I willingly head into the spiral I like to refer to as “Stitching myself into a corner of misery and hysteria.”

Here’s how the scenario generally plays out:

I see something someone has sewn. I get giddy. I could do that!  I head to the fabric shop. I see patterns – many of which  are marked “FOR SIMPLETONS.” I get giddier. Simpleton? That’s me! I can do this!  I select a pattern and then head into the fabric section. The mind reels with all the patterns, textures and possibilities. I get giddier still.

I am riding a crest now. I can see all the stylish clothes I will make for myself – they will fit beautifully because, of course, I was born to sew and will be able to tailor these to fit my every odd curve and bump. Friends will come to me with fabric and patterns and together we will beautify ourselves, and by extension, our lives.  People will stop me in the street to ask wherever did I get that fabulous dress? Oh this? I made it. In fact, I designed the pattern myself. In fact, I CREATED THE CONCEPT  ”PRETTY DRESS” ! Yes that was me who invented the cute dress you are very welcome!

I leave the shop, beaming like the headlights of an 18-wheeler, pattern, fabric, fancy new colour-coordinated thread and other notions held aloft in premature celebration.  What could go wrong? What could possibly go wrong? Before I get home, I contemplate calling my day job and just quitting – who will have time for all that researchy stuff when there are so many dresses to be made? The world needs my houndstooth!!

Cut to 45 minutes after my arrival home. Just 45 minutes. That’s how long it takes for me to unpack my goods, set up the sewing machine, lay the necessary equipment out and open the pattern. Actually, that takes about 43 minutes. The remaining two minutes are spent in an utter freefall, as I am confronted with the incomprehensible language of the pattern, the crushing realization that I cannot even speak simpleton, that even my skills with Google and YouTube instructional videos and my general assertion that “it’s not rocket science, baby” are not going to be enough. No where near enough.

Were you to arrive at my home around the 45 minute mark, you would be confronted with something that looks like this:

My only advice is to back away while saying soothing things about how some people are just not visual learners. Don’t offer to help.

Why do I tell you this? Well as it happens, I was out wandering around some local shops with a friend the other day, when we wandered upon this:

Bellissimo, on Agricola St in Halifax, has revamped their space entirely and moved the fabric section to the front…right by the windows.  If that wasn’t enough to bring the moths to the flame, look at the rest of the space:

I can probably count on one hand the number of shops in Halifax that are this gorgeous, and take such good advantage of the variety of period buildings dotting the downtown/peninsula. So you can see how I am slowly winding back up to the spiral.

Luckily for me, their fabric is dedicated to upholstery and window coverings. Both of which I can successfully make, on my own, sans pattern.

See? So don’t worry about me. I will eventually gather myself, wipe the tear stains off my cheeks and remind myself that all of this is just part of the larger conspiracy by the fashion industry to keep us buying their pre-made creations and you know you can’t fight city hall so what the hell let’s just go online and buy a pair of shoes because I can never dream of making my own shoes so I am safe there.

But then, Daniel Day-Lewis took a year off to become a cobbler, so how hard can it be?