January 18, 2007

No Sew Zone

When I was in Junior High, I had Home Economics classes. We learned how to cook things, clean up after ourselves and also how to sew. I was not looking forward to the sewing part. But when it was my turn, I gave it everything I had. I started by making a football shaped pillow which turned out so fabulously well that I began grabbing scraps of material at home and sewing additional pillows. Pillow sewing rocked.

When sewing pillows got dull, I got super ambitious. We had a Valentine’s Day dance coming up and I decided that instead of making my Mom take me to the mall for a new outfit, I was going to make an outfit for myself. I graduated from high school in 1993, so you can probably do the math and figure out that when I was in junior high school, there were a whole lot of fashion no-no’s and nightmares.

Take M.C. Hammer pants for example, which is what I decided I absolutely must make for the dance. Mine would not be metallic. Instead, I opted for a nice peach color. The pants were pleated and baggy at the top and then tapered to their ankle choking end. I measured and cut and was convinced that these pants were going to be amazing.

Because a girl can’t wear just pants to a dance, I needed a shirt to match. So, what better to go with M.C. Hammer pants than a 3/4 length sleeved baseball style top. The sleeves were peach to match the pants and the front and back of the shirt was a complementary paisley pattern with peach and cream colors. It was going to be an amazing outfit to stand on the sidelines through the Guns and Roses slow songs that would be played.

In fact, it was going to be such an amazing outfit that I got extra material and decided to make a pair of purple pants and a purple paisley baseball shirt to go with them as well. On the day of the dance, I could decide which color to wear. You know what they always say right? If you find something you like, that flatters you, buy it in every color. Well, I was making my new wardrobe and it was going to be flawless.

Dances were such a treat. We had them every other month or so and every girl always got her hopes up, me included of course, that our "Prince Charming" would somehow find a way to detach his butt from his chair in the corner and get up to ask you to dance to something like "Every Rose has Its Thorn." Or, if they were really ambitious they might attempt "Girl you know it’s true" by Milli Vanilli in case they wanted to show off their running rabbit moves or something.

As the Valentine’s dance quickly approached, I worked tirelessly on my smashing outfit. I even went during study halls, and before and after school when it got to be crunch time. With my permed, spiked hair and peach (or purple) Hammer pants, I was going to be a star.

With two days left to go, I finished my outfit. I got an A on the outfit and my teacher was impressed that I made, not one, but two outfits. I couldn’t wait to try it on and see how incredible I was going to look so I took my new digs to the girls bathroom and gave them a whirl. They seemed to fit just fine but when I went out to the mirror I was very disappointed.

The pants were entirely too baggy in the butt and front. The bubbling pant effect was just not right. The shirt looked like it belonged to a girl three years younger and just hung there. It was not a dance worthy outfit. In fact, it was barely worthy of being called pajamas. I ripped it off, stuck it in my backpack and never wore it again.

When I got home, I begged my Mom to take me to the mall where the Deb shop delivered as usual. I went to the dance and spent the night staring across the floor at the group of boys wondering why they even bothered to come if they weren’t ever going to even get off their butts. And then I went home and never sewed again. . .

Until karate. Have you ever noticed those patches that seem to be on everyone’s gi’s? Big I’s gi is currently patch-less and mine is missing one of the ones I should have on there. Today, I attempted to sew the patches on the arms of our gi’s. After sewing less than an inch I had stabbed myself half a dozen times, and managed to tangle the thread to the point that the only option was ripping it out. Currently, Big I’s patch is hanging by a thread and I’m just hoping that I see my Mom before we have to go to karate because the only way I will succeed in getting these patches onto our gi’s is by using super glue.

Considering that super glue doesn’t even hold karate guys on trophies, I’m not very optimistic about it. Hey, at least my expectations have become more realistic since Junior High.