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Sewing
It has been a while since I explored the simpler tasks of your boring lives, so I am back again to do that very thing. While wondering what I could possibly do so terribly that it would amuse all of you, one of the girls, Marion, asked me if I knew how to sew and if I could teach her. Imagine: me, knowing how to sew. I've never so much as sewn on a button so I directed her to my seamstress, Mrs. Bouvreuil.
As she walked away I thought, how hard can it be? If she can learn so can I, so I decided to join her. Mrs. Bouvreuil seemed appalled at the idea of having to teach me what she surely saw as a simple task, but she didn't want to say no to Marion so really she didn't have much choice. So Marion and I set out to learn the art of seamstressing together.
Marion turned out to be a quick study. Me, on the other hand, not so much. Turns out, it's harder than it looks, and you don't get to just start right away either. First, I had to learn how to use the machine, and let me tell you, that thing was out to get me. I had to learn how to thread a bobbin, and what a bobbin even is. (Spoiler alert: it's not the thing that is bobbing up and down and your teacher will not be amused that you think so.) Then, I had to thread the machine, which sounds so ridiculously easy, but could quite possibly be the hardest thing I have ever done in in my entire life until I had to thread the actual needle itself and that was truly the worst and most dreadful thing ever. I had been told that there was a small tool that would help thread the miserable material thought the eye, but Mrs. Bouvreuil said we were not allowed to use it, and that doing it the correct and more difficult way 'builds character'. Well, I must have quite a lot of character by now.
I finally had the blasted machine ready to go and was all set to sew the most glorious dress the world has yet to see, when Mrs. Bouvreuil informed me that we wouldn't actually be sewing anything in the first lesson other than 'practice stitches'. Apparently following a pattern is 'hard' and 'beyond my skill level'. Well, I showed her what was beyond my skill level, and it was definitely 'practice stitching'. Seriously, I thought preparing the machine was the hard part, but it only got worse from there.
The first thing that happened as I began to sew: the needle broke. Like, literally it snapped in half. I didn't even know that was a thing that could happen. I had to change the needle, which was quite the project and I am pretty sure that you need some kind of advanced degree from Highbridge to do it. Clearly Mrs. Bouvreuil has such a degree, because after watching me struggle with it for over an hour she managed to change it out in under three minutes while glaring at me and using some very colorful language.
After the needle debacle, and rethreading yet again, I had to learn how to properly use the foot pedal. Apparently you need to keep pumping it at a steady pace, which was the only part of the whole process I excelled at. The rest was an absolute mess. All I was supposed to do was sew in a straight line on a simple piece of cotton fabric. I managed to sew a mangled wad of hot garbage and spill my beverage in the process. Somehow, I didn't expect picking shattered glass off the floor to be part of the process of making beautiful new fashions. Not that I made anything that could be considered either beautiful or fashionable.
Marion, on the other hand, made an entire set of napkins and a lovely table cloth, so the day wasn't a total waste. Marion found her new calling, and as much as I have tons of new ideas tumbling around in my head for outfits that would amaze you all, I should probably stick to merely describing those ideas to people who know what they are doing.
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