Firstly, my goal this year, to minimize painful shopping experiences, be a bit thrifty, get some sewing practice in and also just for general enjoyment, was to make the majority, if not all, the birthday presents we were going to give. Mums are tough to buy for, let alone make for, but this year, I actually thought of something perfect.
In their guest room, my parents have a beautiful wooden chest (Mum's Glory Box) which the guests put their suitcases on. When this happens, Mum puts a ratty old towel over the thing to protect it from suitcase scratches. Effective, but pretty ugly. The guest room has recently been redecorated with a Paris theme, and so I thought I could easily make a cover for the chest that would be practical and pretty at the same time. Excellent.
On a day I know Mum will be out, I call home and get Dad to measure the chest for me. I think about how much material I'll need and even sketch a diagram in my sewing book. A quick trip to Spotlight and I've got my material (which was on sale, bargain!). This was way back in, gosh, I don't know, April maybe? Needless to say, I got a busy/sidetracked with some other things and the material sat on the shelf for a while. That's ok.
Come May, I know that time is swiftly creeping away from me, so I should get onto turning that material into the cover I've been dreaming about. I get out the material, I check the sewing book to see how long I need it to be. I notice that in the sewing book I've actually got two measurements. One on the sketch and one in a list on the side. The measurements don't match. Oh no. Which one do I take? A meter or a meter and ten centimeters? 10 cm seems small, but actually, it's a big difference in weather or not a cover will fit a box.
Alas, I'll have to call Dad again to get the measurements. Knowing Mum's at home (making my sneaky call from a few months ago completely futile) I just call anyway and get Dad to remeasure. He takes his trusty handy-man measuring tape (you know, the kind you use to make a desk, or build a house) and gives me the measurement. 1005. Got it.
So I go to my material, I measure a meter and five centimeters. I re-measure. I check it again, then I cut. I lay out the material and realize that I've cut it at a meter. Not a meter five. Gah!! What happened? I've no idea. Sigh! So I do a patch job, no one is going to notice it anyway, it's a fairly quick fix. Done.
I patiently hand stitch the batting in place, put the lining on and sew everything together. Looking good. The thing is completely reversible, all the seams are hidden, very pro looking (except for those nearly-invisible patches, I suppose) and I am well pleased. Keeping in the Paris theme of the room, I decide I'll quilt the layers together with an Eiffel Tower. Done.
Not sure that one tower is ok, or if it just looks a bit stupid, I show it to my bible study group on Wednesday night for feedback. Sarah and Kellie agree, there should be more towers. As I show everyone, I enthrall them with the tale of the measuring/cutting story. There is a bit of silence and then Sarah's Steve says: "Isn't 1005, a meter and five millimeters, not 5 centimeters?"
Oh no. He's right! Dad gave me the measurements in handy-man-measuring-tape form, and I translated them into sewing-person-measurements, but I've done it wrong! Now, the cover is officially ten centimeters too long! My initial cut would probably have been fine after all. Now, the thing, thanks to the patching job, is too big!!
I cannot believe it. What to do? Unpicking and resewing would take ages, especially given the reversible nature of the cover. And then it would mean that the extra towers won't fit because the measurements won't work. GAH!!
It's nearly Mothers day, so Sarah suggests that I sneak it over and check it while Mum is distracted by our Steves and she'll let me know if it's ok. Whew. Mothers day comes and yes the cover is slightly big, but it's not the end of the world and Sarah says it will be fine. Crisis averted.
I take it home and I quilt the other towers on. Looking good. I'm loving it. It's a bit long, but that's ok. All that's left now is to throw it in the wash to get rid of the pencil marks I drew the Eiffel Towers on with. Fabulous. The next day, I'm doing a load of washing. Great! It's nappies. I pause for a moment. Will the nappies hurt the cover somehow? Nah, I think to myself, it's just washing, everything will come out clean in the end. In it goes.
I was right about the nappies not hurting the cover. What I didn't expect was the cover to hurt the nappies. That's right folks; the red material I used as lining (which had been sitting in the stash for a while (some hand-me-down material that I got from who knows where)) really should have been washed before I used it, because the red ran and made everything that was previously white turn pink. Now we have pink nappies. That's not so much of a problem. What is a problem is that the white writing on the blue material that I got for the cover is now pink. GAH!!!
I cannot believe this new turn of events. What do I do?? Then I think, wait, it's ok, I've turned nappies pink before (when I washed the picnic blanket with them) but because they were being soaked and washed and used on such a regular basis, they went back to being white again. Eventually. So all I need to do to fix this, is to soak and wash the cover several more times and we should be back to normal.
Five washes later, I'm over this stupid cover. Even if the words are still a little pink, I don't care. Mum's just going to have to use the side that was originally lining as the main and the other side as lining. That's all there is to it. A final press and I still like this cover. In fact, I may even love it, despite it's complications and the sheer amount of times I was foiled by it's mere existence. I know that I could have gone and bought a cover for the chest and it may have taken less time, but I wouldn't have the great story that I have now. This cover has a history. It's got character.
Steve's version of this story, which I have told to you now in over 1000 words, goes something like this: You decided to make a cover, cut it wrong, sewed it anyway and then washed it. Yes Steve, that is a good albeit boring summary of the epic tale.
When Mum opened it and found out what it was, she said it was just what she wanted for the room, and despite my epic story of mistakes and troubles, it was very well done. I feel I've done something good here.
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