So last night was the first night of the rest of my life. Or at least, the first night of sewing classes. Either way, I was nervous, as I am when I start something new, butterflies brewing in my stomach, it felt like first-day-of-school jitters!I arrived at 7pm with a young girl, her mother and her brother. She would have been around 16. I realised then that the night ahead could be filled with teenie boppers, and I decided right then and there that I was just going to deal with being an almost 30 year old novice sewer. I had to be ok with it.
Then a couple of women my age turned up. Phew! I didn't have to pretend I knew who the Jonas Brothers were. Or what shade of chapstick I was going to wear so it didn't clash with my braces. Or who I was going to pash at the back of the school oval the next day, like, like, ok? Something like that.
I pulled out my pattern (big ups to Hoppo Bumpo who hooked me up with the right pattern - Simplicity 8493 - kids pjs - awwww yeah!). Thank goodness for this recommendation. Hoppo Bumpo is the goods. This pattern was right up my alley - and a good starting point. The Doctor and I had fun choosing some fabrics (though where I'm more prone to spots and yachts, he's more prone to diggers and dumptrucks - yikes!). We settled on a selection with the pattern in my hot little hand.
Back to the class - it was when I was cutting out my pattern that I decided that I was going to ask questions. Loads of questions. I wasn't to care if people ogled me thinking 'jeepers' this kidult is only just learning to sew' - nope. Not me. I was above that. I was starting out. I had let it be known. I've revved a sewing machine to sew myself some scrunchies back in the day, but that's the extent of it. Ok, ok, I'll confess again - my sister used to do my school sewing projects when she came home from uni, ok?
So pattern cut, fabric cut. Pants sewn, pants overlocked, and the teacher tells me that next week I will be finishing the pjs altogether. A little disappointing for The Doctor who thought he was getting them today (though I gently tried to warn him that mummy was wearing an L-plate for a reason). He also tried to tell me that he should come with me to sewing. And when that wasn't working, he told me that 'Daddy and I can be your teachers mummy, you don't have to go.'
Yes.. And how would that be for my mental health. Not so good. But sewing class - awww yeah, strictly for the hardcore. And Hoppo Bumpo is my homegirl.
