Made by Me

My parents are arriving tomorrow. They're coming for the week-end. I'm not ready. I haven't started cleaning my place. There's no food in the fridge. I was talking to a friend yesterday on msn, explaining my lack of action on the issue. She started laughing. "Have clothes hanging everywhere so there's no place to sit." I didn't laugh in response. She knows me too well.

There isn't exactly clothes everywhere; there is nowhere to sit. I was sitting on the floor as I was talking to her - in the sole square that had nothing on it. It was reserved for sitting. There are parts of clothing everywhere. I've been working on my shirt dress. My entire apartment has been devoted to this task. Friends have made comments about creating my own private sweatshop. I prefer to think of it as my own private atelier. I'm creating my own haute couture. I'm also improving my delivery of profanity and pushing the boundaries of my patience.

My table is covered with pins, spools of thread, sewing machines and manuals. The chairs have pattern pieces, in both tissue paper and fabric, carefully laid on them. The bookcase has the full length mirror leaning against it. The ironing board is in the kitchen and two irons are taking up the kitchen counter on one side; the other side has tailor's chalk, more pins, and scissors on it. The carpet space not reserved for sitting has even more pins, scissors, tailor's chalk, instructions and books strewn all over it. In fact, most surfaces have pins on them. I have not stepped on one yet. Actually I have stepped on many of them, they were laying flat, so it doesn't count.

I'm trying to get the dress finished before they arrive. I've had to reset the collar numerous times on various sides. I had to recut out the collar as I'd sewn it together upside down. I've had pins sticking into me as I tried it on yet again to ensure that it was going together correctly. I got scared that I had made the wrong side. I spent a few seconds trying to decide whether it was more work to let the sides out or to lose weight. I decided to lose weight. By then it was time for fortification, so I poured a cup of tea and grabbed a few cookies.

I'd realised that the dress needs thirteen buttons down the front. I'm not sure how to do button holes, or rather how to line up thirteen holes so that not only are they aligned with the button but in a vertical line down the front. My mother, on the other hand, does. I've pointed out that if she truly loves me, she will do these button holes for me. She's thinking about it. I've always said she loved my brother best.

Tonight I finished basting in the last sleeve. I'll sew them in when my mother has agreed they're set properly. My next step is to go around my apartment clearing space and wielding a magnet looking for pins. My Dad always manages to step on them so that he sticks them in his feet. I have no idea how he does it. I never do. I think he does it on purpose.