Crafting Deception by Barbara Emodi

Author:Barbara Emodi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C&T Publishing

I was looking forward to tonight’s session. It was a special workshop on one of my favorite subjects—pockets— something I had slotted in before we started our pants-fitting marathon. As a woman who found purses, handbags, pocketbooks, whatever you wanted to call them just one more thing to remember, haul around, or leave behind, I definitely was a pocket person.

I’d done a lot of prep for tonight’s class. I had laid out samples of various options, with written instructions for each one: patch, slant, zippered, welt (single and double), double-entry pockets (a lined patch with a flap, but with the stitching left open at the side so you could also put your hands behind them on cold days), and my favorite—the “hidden double-entry.” I put these last pockets in all my reversible jackets and coats. The way I did them made only one pocket bag rather than two, which would be too bulky, to be accessed by each side of the coat. In jackets, on the one plain “tasteful” side, I put in a single welt pocket, and on the “jazzy,” usually patterned, fabric other side, I put in a zippered pocket, but both were able to access the same tear-drop pocket installed between the layers of the two shells. This technique also let the wearer reach in from, say, the zippered pocket on the outside of the garment, put her hand through the welt opening of the second layer, and pull out something out from the pocket of the garment underneath. I’d found this handy on many mornings of dog walking in the rain, when I’d wanted to retrieve my phone from the pocket of my jeans but didn’t want to unzip my entire jacket to do it. Personally, I thought double-entry pockets were brilliant inventions, and usually one student in every term thought so, too.

This evening, my group would include the usual suspects: new mothers, retirees eager for a night out of the house, and the serious sewists who were humoring me until I could look at the diagonal wrinkles in their tried-it-at-home pants muslins. Annette arrived a little late and had brought Colleen as a favor to Darlene, who was still campaigning to have her mother develop more connections in town.

After they’d all settled in around the big U-shaped table I used for demos, we went over the pocket types. I showed my students tips for the tricky parts, like how to make a pocket bag with one scrap of fabric, no pattern, and how to use graph paper to keep the stitching lines straight on the welts.

At break time, I found Colleen and Annette talking in the corner of the room.

“What do you mean, your daughter is trying to kill you?” I heard Annette ask Colleen.

“She’s rushing me, trying to empty my house. I’m just not ready.” Colleen was adamant. I could see what Darlene was up against. “She just doesn’t understand.”

“Doesn’t understand what?” I asked, joining the conversation.

“She doesn’t understand that it’s not about the things, it’s about who I was in that house that I’m not ready to leave behind.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.