The Ghost of a Ladybug

I have a secret confession to make. Its a Bad one, so brace yourself.

I own a sewing machine.

GASP! HORROR!

Yeah yeah, it doesn’t sound so awful, does it?  At least until I let you in on my other secret confession:   I can’t sew.  Oh sure, I can make simple things, like pillows and blankets.  Things that are square, with straight lines.  I’ve even successfully hemmed pants.

I am fascinated with the idea of making my own clothing.  I have been ever since I was a little girl.  Not knowing what I was doing, I attempted to construct outfits for my teddy bears and barbie dolls, using scraps of fabric and elmer’s glue.  The resulting misshapen, stiff garment-alikes were never used for long before they were discarded.

Disaster struck the day I inherited my mother-in-law’s unused sewing machine, along with a box of thread in every color, buttons, even a repair kit.  But the machine never worked right, either due to mechanical flaw or my own failing in setting it up properly.  I blamed my inability to make anything on the way it would bunch up the fabric and ruin my projects before they even got started.

Then I bought a new sewing machine, and actually took the time to learn to use it.   I no longer had an excuse.  Nope, I just can’t sew.

I still like to pretend I can sew.  I’m smart, I can figure it out, right?  I look at fabric and I see so much delicious potential.  Its why I have four piles of fabric, with matching thread, buttons, and other “notions*” sitting in my craft pile.  I look at them and can still picture in my head the skirts and shirts they might one day be.  I can picture some of the steps required to construct them.  Not all, but some.

It might help if I could follow a pattern.  I tried once. I got an entire pair of pants traced and halfway cut out.  I even got so far as sewing together the pocket.   Now, seven years later, I still own a pile of pieces of pre-pant, and one very nice pocket.

Despite knowing full well that I cannot sew, I still somehow seem to think that I can.  I think it is a form of madness, brought on by the smell of fresh fabrics, the tactile excitement of running my fingers over soft cottons.   “I can totally do this,” is the lie I tell myself, followed quickly with “…and I’m totally gonna this time.”   As though it is only loss of steam that stalls my sewing, instead of the truth, that I just don’t know what I’m doing and I give up when it is obvious that I have ruined something beyond my ability to repair.  I don’t even know how to use a seam ripper properly!

My delusions of grandeur lead me to believe that I can make not only simple items, but complicated, involved projects like a halloween costume.  So one year, I was determined to make myself a ladybug costume.  Complete with a second set of jointed arms that moved along with my real arms.  It would look SO COOL!  My mental image made it look pretty awesome, at least.  The fact that I had no idea how to make one was no concern, I’d figure it out as I went along, like I always do.  I made a few sketches that were extremely rough, but already showing that I had no idea what I was doing.  I ignored that fact, and proceeded to Goodwill to buy some supplies, and then to the fabric store for more.

I got as far as doing some passable shirt Mad Science, grafting the shoulders and arms from one shirt onto another.  Some foam tubes provided the stiffness for the arms, and a pair of blown-up Nitrile gloves stuffed into a pair of gloves would be passable for a second set of hands.  Lacking anything better, I used some thread to attach it to my arm at the appropriate points.

At this point, it was looking pretty good.  I decided to make a mock-up of my idea for the vest and beetle shell.  And then.. it gets a little fuzzy in memory.  The Madness had overtaken me, which is never a good sign.  I can’t recall exactly what happened, but I do remember the aftermath, of realizing that I had no idea how to make a vest.   It took about three  years for me to give up on this idea, though I never revisited it.  I did eventually manage to let it go enough that I could throw away the evidence of my failure.

Maybe I’ll sign up for a sewing class.

* Notions are one of those things I absolutely LOATHE about sewing, and one reason why I won’t follow a pattern.  I just unreasonably hate the term.  It sounds so stupid.  Notions are the crazy schemes in my head, not an actual real thing that I need to buy!  I actually don’t know what it means, but I dislike it anyways.

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About libosaurus

Some have said that I am a fearsome dinosaur. Others claim I am an excellent cook. I say, they're both right.

Posted on October 8, 2011, in Arts and Crafts, Failure, Halloween and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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