First of all, I would just like to go on the record and state the facts: I don’t like sewing.
I don’t LIKE sewing. I don’t know how to sew. I’ve never sewn before. Well, unless you count the apron that I made in my 8th grade Home Ec class that turned out ROCKING GOOD, because it pays to be friends with the girl who took home the blue ribbon at the fair for her sewing projects. To this day, I couldn’t thread a sewing machine properly if my very life depended upon it.
Something about a bobbin here and some spools there, and please pass the wine before I’m overwhelmed with all of my adult-onset ADD.
In fact, I am such an unskilled seamstress, I once stapled the hem of a skirt in college. I had no other choice. I had to wear the skirt for some kind of reception, blah-blah-blah, and I was a solid four hours away from my mom and all her sewing knowledge. The hem on my skirt was fraying and hanging down, because laundromat washing machines are harsh to delicates. My roommate and I looked at one another in helplessness, because WHAT DO YOU DO? and DO WE EVEN HAVE A SEWING NEEDLE IN THIS APARTMENT OF OURS? Clearly, we were dealing with a first world problem of the very worst kind.
And then we realized that we owned a stapler, and my hem problem was fixed.
If only our statistics class had been that easy…
When I was on bed-rest during my pregnancy with the boy, my mom tried to teach me to crochet. And to knit. And also to cross-stitch. The idea was that I could make a little blanket for the baby.
Suffice it to say that I still don’t know how to crochet, knit or cross-stitch, and the only good use I have found over the years for knitting needles is to scratch the middle of your back when you’re home alone. Also? If it weren’t for grandmas and Baby Gap, the boy would never have had any baby blankets.
Look what I saw today!
My favorite line from this 1949 sewing manual is the one where girls are instructed to never attempt to sew if they have a sink full of dirty dishes or unmade beds.
Well. Dang and dadgum.
I certainly can’t sew TONIGHT, because I’ve swung and missed and gotten strikes on both of those, as evidenced by the fact of WHERE ARE THE KITCHEN COUNTERS THIS EVENING?
Also, when you sew, make yourself as attractive as possible. I know that there’s just no way that I could sit down at the Singer and enjoy my afternoon of whipping out a homemade blouse if I was continually looking over my shoulder, hoping that Hubs didn’t walk in the front door while my hair was scrunched on top of my head in a messy topknot.
Frankly, I’m pretty sure that girls with messy buns on their heads that have seen RECESS DUTY and JUMPING JACKS WITH KINDERGARTEN KIDDOS IN THE GYM live longer than the men who comment on the quality of the bun.
People, I just don’t know if I would have been a good candidate for life in 1949.
Was the stapler even invented then?
Y’all have a merry Tuesday, and please. Keep your hair in order and don’t forget the lipstick. You just never know when the doorbell is gonna ring, and you’re going to have to pretend you weren’t sewing at all, as you answer it in your high heels and pearls.