As a little girl, my grandmother and mother encouraged me to learn how to sew. Sewing has served me well over all of my years. Originally, I didn't like sewing. I love embroidery, I love knitting, but the sewing machine, patterns, the whole thing...not so much. (Tess still occasionally wears a nightgown and robe that my grandmother made for me when I was her age. I kept it all of these years. ) I can feel her hold me when I touch it. Before I continue, I deeply apologize Mom about the I HATE TO SEW thing.
So, I pulled out of my closet one of my favorite pair of fuchsia and white print Adrienne Vittadini pants. Long, cotton pants in a Size Two. Yes, they fit at one time, when I was a 2. For a while, I had lost weight and took in the waist. So, these beautiful pants were a Size 2-. . With a long fuchsia tee and fuchsia sandals, that was an outfit that rocked. My problem that I was facing...I am no longer a Size 2. Now what? Not only am I not a Size 2, but I am not a Size 2- either! UGHHHHHHHHHH.
Well, there were choices that I could make: 1. Stop eating for about six months. On the up side, the pants will fit! On the down side, it will no longer be spring in 6 months and Fuchsia and White print cotton look silly at Thanksgiving Dinner in the territory that won the Civil War. 2. Place the pants in a snappy bag, drive to Good Will and donate them to someone who won't pop the zipper or bulge like a sausage. The person, might not have to flatten out on a hard surface in order to zip and snap. On the up side, I will be a good Christian, helping my fellow man/woman and go to heaven. On the down side, my selfish hell bound temperment wouldn't let me part with them, "just in case". 3. Alter the pants. Turn the 2- into LNS (Laura Now Size). On the up side, I will be able to wear my pants. On the down side, THERE IS NO DOWN SIDE!!!!!!!
I pinned the bottom of the legs and cut off about 8 inches of leg fabric. (I am only 5'2" afterall). And then I froze. How to add inches to the waist and proportionally match print on the fanny to add fabric. I sat, I thought, I fretted. I held my hands, open palmed up to heaven (well, actually the apartment ceiling) and prayed, "Hey, Nana, help me! I think that my smartie aleckie self may be in too deep! Could we re-create these pants?" ( I will say here, that my grandmother could make anything out of nothing or anything at all. She could look at an outfit or magazine and in no time, an exact replica would appear from her sewing machine. She could turn fabrics/coats to reverse sides and remake any wardrobe...remember, she was raising kids in the Depression)
With speed, precision, creativity, my hands were not my own. They flew over the scissors, cutting an exact insert to match the print in the fabric at seams in the fanny! The waist opened up with ease and my fingers deftly added elastic. My fingers and hands fed the machine to fix the pieces, the hem, the elastic into place. I tried the new Capri's on...the waist was a little big! "Oh, Nan! Really?" was all that I could say. Priscilla planted herself firmly under the table that held the machine and began chattering. Another tuck, a few stitches! Everything was coming together! I removed the modification from the machine, and tried on the Capri's again! No flaw, no mismatch, no bulges!
I began to dance around the machine! "Nan! Thank you! Thank you! Look we did it!!! I love these!" I felt myself wind down. I heard as I looked up, "Dolly Dear, you can do anything!"
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