Sew Uncomfortable
I'm taking a sewing class right now. Don't ask me why. I don't know anymore. I don't know anything anymore. All I know is that I am terrible at making clothing. Especially clothing that doesn't have giant holes in it or would actually fit a person.
I can feel the pity oozing off of my professor. She knows that I know that I am deficient in seamstress skills. She says my name at least once during every lecture and then pauses, looks, and smiles at me.
"When you're sewing a side seam, Mary, you need to be sure that you're going very straight."
"Be sure to trim and grade your edges, right Mary?"
"Mary! You suck!"
Ok, she didn't say the last one, but it was definitely implied.
Every lab consists of me looking sadly at my project, both dreading and hoping that the TA will see my dejection and help me out. I unpick seams and sigh a lot. That seems to do the trick.
Out of the two projects that we have completed, I have ripped holes into both with the serger. What is a serger, you ask? A machine of death and destruction that feeds on your tears as you desperately struggle to thread it! Seriously, this is how you attempt to thread a serger:
There's a knife along the edge that cuts the fabric off of your seam allowances and binds the edges as you push it through. That would be great, if you had the capability to not bunch up the rest of your skirt that you've worked on for 3 weeks and rip a gigantic hole in it.
I love that skirt, but every time I go to church, I fear the moment I sit down. Because deep down, I know that those tiny hand-stitches I haphazardly placed on the sides to cover the holes will burst open, revealing my thighs to the entire congregation.
I literally have the worst score in the entire class (thank Learning Suite class statistics) and it is well deserved.
I can feel the pity oozing off of my professor. She knows that I know that I am deficient in seamstress skills. She says my name at least once during every lecture and then pauses, looks, and smiles at me.
"When you're sewing a side seam, Mary, you need to be sure that you're going very straight."
"Be sure to trim and grade your edges, right Mary?"
"Mary! You suck!"
Ok, she didn't say the last one, but it was definitely implied.
Every lab consists of me looking sadly at my project, both dreading and hoping that the TA will see my dejection and help me out. I unpick seams and sigh a lot. That seems to do the trick.
Out of the two projects that we have completed, I have ripped holes into both with the serger. What is a serger, you ask? A machine of death and destruction that feeds on your tears as you desperately struggle to thread it! Seriously, this is how you attempt to thread a serger:
I love that skirt, but every time I go to church, I fear the moment I sit down. Because deep down, I know that those tiny hand-stitches I haphazardly placed on the sides to cover the holes will burst open, revealing my thighs to the entire congregation.
I literally have the worst score in the entire class (thank Learning Suite class statistics) and it is well deserved.
 |
| Those two scores below me, they've come to class once each. |
Fun story!
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