I may have to light some dried sage and waft its smoke over the little red-striped cotton pajamas!
I’m afraid they’ve absorbed a lot of negativity.
On Thursday, I got out the red striped fabric pattern pieces I had so neatly cut out earlier in the week. It was time to stitch together that little set of pajama doll clothes for my granddaughter’s birthday party on Saturday. They would look so perfect on Molly, the American Girl doll my daughter planned to give her.
The instructions looked clear enough, and I remembered a lot of sewing terms and processes from my sewing past. I knew it would take no time to whip up the little outfit. After all, I’d sewn lots of clothes back in the day.
My overconfidence was my first mistake, and it was a doozy!
Proudly, I made it through Step 2c, admiring how neatly the stripes from the pocket matched the shirt front. Well done, Barb! Then came Step 2c.
As directed, I completed Step 3, pressing my seams neatly. Same with Step 4. Step 5 stopped all forward progress. “Stitch the shoulder and back neck edges?” What WAS the shoulder of the pajamas? The images didn’t help. And why did the front pieces and facings have a notch cut in them?
How the front piece fit with that flimsy fabric contraption I’d created made no sense at all! What was the notched areaa for? I reread the instructions. I turned the fabric pieces over. I looked at the photo. I ripped out the facing seam. I read the instructions again. I groaned: No, I was supposed to stitch the facing back.
“Oooh, I hate this thing!” I shouted. I wadded up the little PJ top and threw it across the room. I may have punctuated my rant with an oath. My son, who was visiting us, widened his eyes and got very quiet. Wisely, he said nothing.
I walked away.
Antsy and short-tempered, I ran some errands. By the time I got home, I was under even more pressure to finish the garment and felt horrible about the negative vibes I’d put on display. This was supposed to be a lovely birthday gift, but I was cursing it.
I searched for the wad of fabric on the floor and then studied the instructions again. I pulled out the color photo of the outfits and noticed something odd. Instead of having a separate collar piece, this little shirt had a collar as part of the whole front piece. THAT was the tricky notched area. It was like no collar I’d seen or sewn before.
“Aha!” I exclaimed. I pinned the pieces together to confirm my hunch, and then began restitching the facing.
Just as I had finished sewing the little decorative buttons on the pj top, my husband walked in. “Looks like there’ll be too much snow for her visit tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll have to reschedule.”
Really?!
With a sigh, I remembered two things:
One: just because you can do something doesn’t mean you must. Mary Jane was a competent seamstress, but she had her dresses sewn for her.
Two: keep your cool. Everything always works out in the end.
Now, I’m ready to start on Molly’s party dress.
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