Sew What?

You might not be aware that I have been sewing for the past six months. So far I have made pajama pants, a purse, and fabric bracelets (that all the hipsters adore). Currently I am piecing together an adorable A-line skirt that is both twirly and magical.

I take lessons over at the Sewing Arts Center on LaBrea and Melrose. Leave it to me to find the one rock and roll sewing center in the city...the people there, particularly Russel and Kay, are super cool. In the right company, they make jokes about oral while embroidering. They yell about politics while basting seams, and use colorful swear words while making chenille scarves. These are my kind of people.

I have realized that there are two kinds of people in this city who sew: one is the young hipster who wants to learn a craft or just wants to secure those Dead Kennedys patches to their hoodies. The other is an older seamstress. Maybe she's bored and needs a hobby, or is thinking of starting a business. In sewing class, it is endlessly interesting to see how the two mix together. The young hipster is quick to debate who sang "Blinded by the Light" in a loud voice, while the oldster sits quietly in the background and pins her fabric meticulously with a grin on her face.

After the first class, I realized that it's the oldsters who really make things interesting. If you get a little saucy with them and rile them up a little, they just let loose. I mentioned to no one in particular that I liked Vogue patterns the best, and that Butterick does little to nothing for me since I am so endlessly cool. My sewing teacher P-Rock was all, "Vogue would be great if it wasn't their fault that Butterick's vintage line was discontinued." I looked at her in shock, wondering where all that piss and vinegar came from. Could it be the cream-colored cardigan she was wearing? Or perhaps the floral jumper?

I decided to see where this was going. I mentioned that one of the "Summer Hats" patterns lying on a nearby table would look fabulous, although NOT in the fabric they chose to put on the cover. P-Rock suddenly seemed to screw up all her courage in the world and said, "You know what really Pisses me off? When there's a typo on the fabric requirements!" That was P-Rock's version of fire and brimstone, and WOW. She looked so proud of herself. I ended the conversation with a "Damn girl, I hear you."

Ever since, she's been a complete madwoman. Last night at class, she told one woman that her fabric was "really hot." And she said hell once. We are set to finish next week, and P-Rock mentioned that we should all bring high heels and get crazy for a picture on the website. This broadened the smiles on the older women's faces. It's funny how something that seems so commonplace in youth becomes a treasure later on.

There is something brilliant about hearing these conservative, demure women titter like schoolgirls. You can see the spark light up their eyes when you curse the invisible zipper you're trying to put in a seam or hold an impromptu contest to name the iron. Bringing out that quality has become even more interesting to me than making the skirt.

My goal for next week's class is to get P-Rock to use a really good cuss word, or perhaps to dance on top of the table. I figure that all I have to do is comment on a spicy two-way stretch knit, or talk about the use of French seams in lingerie. Maybe I could discuss the use of reversibles in winter jackets. Then shit will get really interesting.

stich bitch. g