One way ticket to Waddersville, please

Me, purple knit fabric, and my trusty Renfrew with the short sleeves newly traced off. How hard can this possibly be?

Well, there’s nothing wrong with me or the Renfrew, but the fabric, oh that fabric. Thursday night I decided it was time to grab the purple knit off the guest bed and match it to a pattern. I bought it thinking it would become pajamas, but I discovered that the pattern I thought I wanted to use was for wovens and at the moment I don’t have a short sleeve t-shirt pattern cut out. Besides, the fabric, a mystery fiber from the Jo-Ann’s red tag table, is probably a polyester and for Tidewater Virginia not a good choice for warm weather pajamas and I don’t need any more cold weather ones. I was ready to chuck it back in the pile of fabrics except for me writing that I wasn’t going to do that. Sometimes I hate my good ideas. On the bright side, it’s a really drape-y knit, so perfect for another Renfrew, right? Right.

First came the task of deciding which side was the right side, given that it was shiny and shinier depending which side I looked at. I think it was an interlock but what I took to be the right side had a bit more texture to go along with that shine and I was starting to feel some trepidation about it. However, it cut out fine and I sat down to rethread the serger. Which promptly started misbehaving. I threaded the lower looper ten times before figuring out that it wasn’t going through the tension disks hence why it kept unthreading itself and making a mess. When I ran the thread through initially, it was properly tensioned, so I don’t know. Maybe the serger knew something that I didn’t…

Everything cut out fine, so I sit down to give a test run of the serger on the scraps. Eh, it feeds through weirdly. Hmm, but I’m trying to get this done before dinner and figure that it was no big deal. Trying to get the twill tape and the front and back pieces to sew the shoulder seam was an exercise in frustration, so I decided that I wasn’t going to bother stabilizing the second shoulder seam. Just wrangling the two pieces together worked okay, so I kept going. Both sleeves attached, the side seams sewn up, I even got the bottom hem band attached ever so wonkily when I decided to see how it looked. I had been getting more annoyed with each seam sewn, and I was not about to commit to the sleeve bands or the cowl before checking progress in the mirror. And there I realized why this fabric was a mystery find on the table at the back of the dingy Jo-Ann. It became see through. I could see the exact pattern of the lace on my bra. And remember the shiny? Yeah, not helping matters.

I looked at it, realized that I wasn’t getting those 90 minutes of my life back and chucked all of it in the trash.

From my husband, “Is it supposed to look like that?” and “I just can’t take you seriously while wearing that.” Me neither, me neither.


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