Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Sewing Bowl: A 7th Grade Home Ec Flashback

Most Americans may have spent their Sunday enjoying the Saints and Colts battle it out in the Superbowl, but I spent the evening facing a nemesis of a very different kind.

I battled the Brother CE4000, otherwise known as my new worst enemy.  It's actually a lovely little sewing machine that my in-laws bought me for Christmas.  It's me that's the problem.  You see, I have sewn once in my life, during 7th Grade Home Economics.  I can't remember the teacher's name, but I can very clearly recall the look of disgust on her face as she examined the pitiful pillow that I attempted to sew as part of the final exam.  Yes, I'll admit that my pillow did resemble a pair of three legged pants, but I thought teachers were supposed to be supportive of varying skill levels (read: completely talentless).

Upon conclusion of 7th Grade, I tossed my pillow in the trash and retired from sewing.  Until now.  You see, I've spent most of my spare time in the last two decades trying to perfect my Martha Stewart-ness, filling evenings with cooking, baking, crafting, writing, making, etc.  Turns out you can't get your diploma from the Marthacademy without having a basic knowledge of sewing.  Okay, I made that last part up, but you get where I'm coming from.  At the top of my 2010 goal list it reads: Learn how to sew, Miss Crafty Pants.

I decided that after more than a month of staring down the perfectly-sealed sewing machine box, I would open it and take a look.  For a fleeting moment, I envisioned myself sewing matching outfits for the entire family.  Why buy that $200 hipster skirt at Anthro?  I'll just whip one up to wear tomorrow!  Ummmm, reality check.   My lovely Mother-in-Law gave me a basic lesson in how to turn on the machine and thread it.  An hour later, I was exhausted and a bit beleaguered, remembering why I just go to the store and buy my clothes instead of sewing them.  IT'S HARD. 

I've decided that sewing is just one of those talents that you either have or you don't, like being a professional athlete or a snake charmer.  My Mother-In-Law told me that I need to read the manual cover to cover and practice, practice, practice, and then I'll be ready to make something special, like a potholder.  This did not sound enticing, so I put the sewing machine back in the box.  Until I'm really ready, the divide between the Martha I am and the Martha I could be remains cavernous.


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