Friends, you know my partner Michael has been, and continues to be, a tremendous support throughout my short but dramatic sewing career.
He is forgiving of my growing sewing machine collection and has allowed me to take over way more than my share of the apartment, never suggesting we place a tape dividing line down the center -- a popular 60's sitcom plot device I've always loved. He also proudly wears my creations albeit sometimes in outfits not entirely to my liking. I let it go and love him more.
So imagine my confusion when he came home last week with this.
It's wrong on so many levels, readers, I'm not sure where to start.
But let's back up: to his credit (literally) Michael needed to return something of somewhat lesser value to our local American Apparel store and wasn't eligible for a full refund but rather an exchange. So he had to buy something. And the item he was returning was an article of clothing he had bought for me. But let's not get into that today.
How do you feel about American Apparel, readers? The bloom is so off the rose for me as I learn more about the owner/founder Dov Charney and his sleazy-if-not-outright-abusive ways. But on top of that, I think the clothes themselves are overpriced and slutty -- and I apologize to the sluts out there who really don't deserve that kind of association. The mens t-shirts are appealingly soft, however, and I pick them up at the thrift store whenever I find them there.
But back to Michael's jacket. Did you notice what it's made out of? That's right: corduroy. WHAT have I been sewing with for the last two weeks? What unfinished jacket has been sitting on my body form for the last six days?
Not only that, even the colors are similar. Ouch.
You'll have to take my word for it right now that the fit is also poor. It's a size Small but the shoulders are too wide and the sleeves too long. Not a problem for Michael, apparently.
And then there's the price. OK, so it's Michael's hard-earned money, not mine, and I shouldn't have anything to say about it, right?
But still... Seventy-nine dollars for a corduroy jacket?
I could have made that jacket for one-tenth the price. Moreover, I intend to. Look what I picked up on Etsy over the weekend:
Trust me, friends, when I say I will not be sewing this out of spite. I would like a little jean jacket for myself, frankly, and I may even try making it in suede, if I can find a good source. I still have countless yards of vinyl faux python too!
Kind readers, maybe I'm not the most generous person in the world, but I do like to sew for others, unlike an embittered young sewer who has returned to the blogosphere at long last, putting to rest rumors that I was somehow responsible for her disappearance as her last public sighting was with me at Galanga Gardens one month ago.
Like most of you I am relieved to know she has arrived safe at her new home and pity her new neighbors but thus is life. I miss Dan, mostly.
But back to the subject at hand.
Wise ones spanning the continents, is there someone in your life you enjoy sewing for -- or would enjoy sewing for -- who seems 1) less than interested, 2) insufficiently appreciative, or 3) downright resistant?
If so, what do you do about it? What can you do about it?
Do you interpret it as a judgment on your sewing skills? A hostile gesture? Mere ignorance?
Do you think I should sew a new and better jacket for Michael just to make him feel guilty, or make myself a nicer one and make him feel inferior?
Any other passive-aggressive if forgivably human tactics you suggest?
A nearly eight-year relationship hangs in the balance!
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