The other day I
was looking for a pair of shoes I hadn’t thought of in five years and stumbled
on a huge stack of fabric yardage that I hadn’t thought of in eleven
years.
By stack I mean
a Kansas wheat silo tall column.
only fabric inside |
Wow, I thought this good fabric could help me reinvent my house. When I say re-invent, I don’t mean it
would turn my house into a thoroughbred horse but it would help my abode look
almost as elegant and promising.
Dimly I remember
that I had the very same thought when I stashed the fabric in this attic closet
for safekeeping as if the huns were paying a visit to East Hampton to take it
away from me.
I'm coming for the fabric |
I chose a large
roll of black and white plaid seersucker and decided to slipcover my yard sale
one-and-a-half chair. Do I know
how to sew a slipcover? Sort of if
sort of means I’ve never done it but I saw some pictures in a book written in
1964 and put out by The Singer Sewing Machine company titled “How To Make A
Slipcover.”
This is the
place where I use the word counterintuitive which means something is exactly
the opposite of what your good sense is telling you because as I read through
this little book, no more than a pamphlet, I find that you have to pin
everything on the furniture inside out and when you sew it inside out you also
have to include something called piping that is made ahead of time out of yet
another gazillion yards of fabric (cut on the bias and stitched together to
make a mile or two of this piping.) When you invert the finished product this piping
is acting as a sturdy border around every seam.
you need about a mile of piping |
This is the point in the project where my left brain is saying “Perhaps
on your first try you should choose a solid color because matching the pattern
on a curved back chair might be a tad beyond your ability.” My right brain is picturing
a garden with everything in bloom and lots of ceramic lawn mushrooms sheltering
bunnies and squirrels. My right
brain is seeing childlike happiness.
Really, need I
continue with this post? Will
Jesus turn my ten yards of plaid seersucker into a well-fitting pattern-matched
slipcover with perfect piping all around the way he turned water into superb
wine at the wedding feast at Cana? What do you think? What Oscar Wilde said
about marriage can apply to this project: the
triumph of imagination over intelligence.
Anticipating your next post . . .
ReplyDelete
Deletethank you, Carol.
Please continue writing. I'll continue reading and chuckling!
ReplyDeleteRemember, you encouraged me.
DeleteHad the same experience with my mom and a sofa when I was a kid, except we built the sofa first. For future reference, you can add Sofa Construction to the long list of things best left to professionals.
ReplyDeleteThe best left to professionals rule should be stuck to my refrigerator.
Delete