Frankenstein's Hoodie

I’m not terribly talented at the traditional girl stuff.

Specifically, my sewing skills posses maximum levels of dubiosity. Final results always look a bit more like something Jackson Pollack might have thrown together or, probably more apt, the stitching bears a striking resemblance to Dr. Frankenstein’s handiwork.

Today, I attempted to put an elbow patch on my favorite deep purple, hemp hoodie. OK, it’s also my only deep purple, hemp hoodie which is why I wanted to patch versus toss. I chose an old bright pastel patterned, polyester scarf, bought and worn back in the mythical ‘70s, to use for a patch.  The colors and fabric are in a stark contrast to the near eggplant hue and rough texture of the sweatshirt. I figured this difference would be fun, interesting. And it is!

Then I started stitching the patch onto the hoodie's elbow. I used a bright teal colored thread because I thought it was different enough from all the other colors but would visually tie everything together. That and it was the only spool of thread in my sewing box.

I wish I could say that I started with neat, tiny, straight work -- that the loopy,  trippy, Edgar Allen Poe on a bender, stitching came later. You know, after I got bored with being good. Nope, I sucked right out of the starting gate.

Muti's sewing machine

My excuse for this, and I’m gonna stick with it too (!), is that I haven’t patched anything in eons. I’m out of practice. Really though, I was never good at this stuff. I’ve no patience for it.

I can throw plates (clay. on a potter’s wheel. thank you.) until the cats come home -- something which I would have thought required, for me anyway, reaching a whole other level of consciousness. Like I’d have to be unconscious to be so calm, controlled and focused. Or possibly dead. I bet I might be calm then.

I can throw but I can’t sew worth a damn. I don’t get it.

My father’s mother and my beloved Aunt Mary Ann used to do beautiful needle work. I still have some of the throws they created. My mother used to sew a lot of her own clothes. She even designed and stitched all my Barbie doll dresses. And, her mother was a professional seamstress.

It seems that some things just aren’t built into the DNA. I think I’ll go wedge some clay now.