So I've just tried my hand at sewing again. Turns out 15 more years of life experience ain't worth shit because I still suck at it as much as I did in the glory* days or perhaps more accurately, the days when I hadn't quite grown into my nose (this is another story). It's funny when you find yourself having weird life flashbacks, I guess that's when you realise you're definitely getting old. I had moments tonight when I found myself back in Mrs Coates' Textiles and Design class cutting crookedly, sewing crookedly and generally being useless. I'd like to think that my subconscious was trying to sabotage the fact Mrs Coates had bullied me into making 3/4 shorts (my idea – it was cool, it was the 90s afterall) with a matching waistcoat! What the fuck?! Was she trying to get me beaten up?
I would like to report I do have something to show for tonight – a kind of crooked (expected), newly shortened dress with slate coloured thread because I couldn't be bothered changing the bobbin on the sewing machine.
You can never progress out of laziness nor does skill develop with time, that's a fact.
*LIAR, I was fugly!