OK, I need to rant. Sewing! Is it me or is it the fiddliest, most awful, annoying thing on the planet? I loathe sewing. My mother and sister are brilliant at it but the old sewing gene passed me by. Not that I am complaining, when the chromosomes were crossing I certainly got the best deal; the eyes, the hair, the boobs, the legs, the intelligence. (Hope none of my family are reading this, or I will be shot at dawn, or maybe forced to do cross stich or a worthy tapestry or two - that would be a fate worse than death).
So sewing! I hate it. Pratting about with a needle trying to thread flimsy bits of cotton through it, only to find that on the first sweep through the material the cotton got left on a snag or something, and the needle is without thread and I am without anything that resembles a calm exterior.
Steriotyping aside (which deserves a whole rant of its own) I got asked to 'turn up' a pair of cricket trousers. This needed doing by tonight (of course) as there was a match. Groan! Triple groan! Nothing against cricket but the spectre of the 'sewing box' hoved into view and I was not a happy bunny. "Ah but its not that bad" I was told as a bit of guaze was produced that was supposed to do the trick. "just iron it on" was the helpful advice. Just ironing it on meant, pinning up the said trousers, then somehow performing a highly complex operation which involved turning said trousers inside out while maintaining a hem, pins and fiddly guaze all in the right place in order to slap an iron on it.
**!!??#@** was the jist of my language for the next half an hour as I managed to iron in all the wrong places and get skewered by pins. In the end the final bit of gossamer got taken by a freak gust of wind and was last seen heading to Derby. Cue 'sewing box'. I was left standing at the board taking not the slightest scrap of care as I retrieved all of my 25 year old needlecraft knowledge and hemmed the bloody things. Said trousers now look as if they have been the victim of excessive shrinkage, and a discount store's policy on quality.
...and relax!
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Where the mind alters reality. Where expectation means measurable change. Where the strings of energy that make up the universe can dance a million possibilities into being. Believe in your beauty and power - because it is all true.
About Queen Vixen
Cloaks, boots - long velvet dresses. I believe in magick; real stuff that involves thought and intent, candles help too. I am a bit of a force, so I am told. see more
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6 comments:
Love the rant and I'm with you on the sewing front.
I tend to use cellotape on the hems of my trousers if they come undone. Until my partner see's the cellotape and takes pity on me, muttering something about my scruffyness.
K.
OH honestly call yourself a real woman, too much time flirting in the office and not enough time learning women's work.
Get yeh back into the kitchen with your pinny on and sew a fine seam.....
love and big hugs pxxxxx
Ok hands held up, I am not a real woman. I hate women's work. Kitchens should be burned down and as for pinnies and fine seams, not for me sister.
I have worked out that there is a 20 year threshhold for finding cooking OK. I have cooked for over 20 years and now I have had enough. Shop shut! All cooked out! I even opted for pasta and supermarket sauce the other day, as opposed to the caramelised red snapper I used to serve up. Its all over. My fella can cook, in fact its a must!
Cellotape - eureka! I guess parcel tape would work well too. I have sent my kids to school with safety pins, to my shame and eternal disgrace. Good to know I am not alone in my scorn of all things domestic.
Ahhh, Kahless beat me to it! Cellotape is what I use. When I was married, my husband was in charge of the sewing. Sometimes now, even though we are divorced, I send clothes that need to be mended along with the kids when they stay with him! Shame I can't sneak in any of my own, but I reckon he wouldn't go that far!
Was that rant in English? It seemed to contain a lot of words I recognised and yet I could make no sense of it. What is this "Sewing Box" you speak of? A pouch of powerful magick perhaps, of tools unknown to men?
Vi vi Voom - major respect! Getting the fella to do the sewing, that is awsome.
Bobo - get your needle out and stop slacking. Denial and ignorance is no excuse. To the sewing box man, and be quick about it.
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