April 03, 2010
Today I faced my greatest sewing challenge to date. And I was nowhere near a sewing machine.
Instead, picture me in a fabric store. I've just spotted a bolt. When I say bolt, I really mean the remainder of a bolt - let's say 5 metres at most. From a distance it looks like denim, but up close its softer, finer and has more the appearance of a shot cotton. Nice. My heart gives a little skip as I see the tag: a steal at $6.95 a metre. I give it the furtive crinkle test before it springs back, flat as a tack. Good. Poly-cotton. Highly suited to the bias cut skirt I want to make.
I pick up the bolt and set off on the awkward passage around the narrow shop.
And that's when I am accosted. That's a lovely one she booms. She puts her hand out and strokes the fabric, despite its proximity to my person. I nod and smile and try to edge away. I really like that she persists. Gosh, I can see where this is going and frankly I'm not quite sure what to do. Thankfully Rival Shopper's friend Raucous Customer calls from across the shop and she is momentarily distracted. I slink away toward the counter.
But then a knit catches my eye.
Now, as hard as I try, I can't negotiate peering at the knit's price tag and holding the bolt, so I put my prize find down. I prop it against my ... ahem ... bosom (as one does) and examine the price tag. Just as I am squinting at the tiny writing, I feel the bolt rock slightly, then move in its entirety. Yes, Rival Shopper is back and she has taken the bolt. And she is fondling the fabric. My fabric.
Wait a minute. My fabric? I haven't paid for it yet. So technically it isn't. It was, however, in my possession ( ... or was that my bosom? Same, same.). This is awkward - what should I do?
Politely ask for it back?
Offer to share the spoils?
Accept that possession is nine-tenths of the law and I am no longer in possession?
Say "Hey look over there, I think that's linen for $2 a metre ..." and make a mad dash with the bolt?
Head-high tackle her and wrestle the bolt from her clutches?
What would you do?
Thankfully before I have to make a decision, Raucous Customer calls across the shop and Rival Shopper's attention is once again diverted. I scoop up the bolt and head post haste to the counter. Whew ... that was close: the need for fisticuffs in the fabric shop, has been averted.