I guess you could say my recent incursion in DIY repairs emboldened me somewhat. I'd dared mess around with my boots on account of them being damaged past wearing anyway - it was a low stake, if I fucked them up with my hodge-podge repair skills, they'd be no worse for wear. So this time, I figured I'd step up my game and try my hand at something that stood actual losing.
I'm not a fan of throwing good, functional things away only 'cause they're a little raggedy. And so, who's to say I'm not? Am I worth throwing away just because I've lost a little color, torn a few strips? Sure, the coat looked a whole lot shinier when I first got it (9? 10 years?), but then, so did I. I lacked about half if not all the tattoos I have now, and had a lot less scars and scabs. My face was about the same, but that's pretty much where similarities begin and end.
And yet, no one tells me I should throw away myself... not yet, anyway.
The thing about my coat is that it went with the shoes I'd saved. It's a great coat to wear in the constant rainy days of so-far winter. It's warm enough to go in a t-shirt underneath. It's long but not long enough that you can't flash a bit of leg. It's great. And the trouble is, I've seen newer coats at the mall and call me biased, but they don't hold a candle. The fabric is cheap, the coats are impossibly short (and I'm a fairly tall person. I look damn goofy with one of those "winter coats" that end around the waist for average-sized women) and most are just damn ugly.
I don't mind paying, but I do mind when it means losing money and getting an inferior coat. So I got to work.
The good news about this Peterson Academy thing is, unlike regular school, you get to do whatever you want while listening to the lectures. Which isn't saying that much, since most are pretty hard and I can't turn my attention to anything else, 'cause I want to take notes. But I had decided to start a new course on Plato with a professor from Cambridge, Dr. James Orr (why does everything sound ten times cooler when it's a Brit explaining it?).
Anyway, I sat through two classes while fixing my coat (and running the wash - talk about productive!).
I actually enjoy sewing, as with most manual labors, it gives you a practical purpose you can focus on and a sense of control and satisfaction. It's great from a mental perspective, especially in a world that has you shitting your pants every other minute.
I inherited this sewing box from my grandmother. I just found it in her house when we were packing it up one day and fell in love with it. I thought no way we're gonna give this away or dump it - it's superb.
Look at the carvings, how delicate and intricate the patterns. I can look back and imagine it being a point of pride for the woman who first owned it (my grandmother? Her mother? Who knows...). I also took with some pins, most of the thread, and some thimbles.
Look at these beauties.
So I sat down to examine what the big issue was with my coat, and it turned out it really wasn't that bad. As you can see, it's got a pattern that could easily accommodate some patchwork and minor fixes, but it was a relief not to have to go through all that, since the only real issue was the sleeves had frayed quite badly. So first thing was cut off the frayed strands, then sew along the sleeve-line to prevent future fraying. My little miracle kit from the past, of course, had the perfect thread for my coat, so pretty soon, I'd gone over both arms. Which was nice. But.
It left behind an uneveness. To be fair, I probably would've gone around like this as well, as I don't think anyone really looks anyway. I certainly don't. Must've taken me 2-3 years to realize the sleeves were fraying and I was the one wearing them, so.
Still, I figured I'd have a think, see if there wasn't a better solution around and lo and behold, there it was. Now, I've had these jeans since I was about 12. My best friend at the time bought them as a gift, except she'd gone and measured herself and I kinda looked like a bit of a garroted salami. I exaggerate. Maybe.
Still, I felt bad giving them away as they were good jeans and I always thought, in the way of women everywhere, maybe someday I lose a bit of weight. I was one of those kids who got tall quickly, so they were a perfect fit otherwise by the time I was finally skinny enough to wear them. So I wore them to death for the past two-three years, but they finally gave up. Luckily the hemlines were intact.
So. I cut up the bottom edges of the jeans and ran over the cutline with a bit of fabric paint to keep it from fraying. Then I used a bit more fabric glue to attach the edges to the ends of my coat sleeves and let it dry.
Hello!
Personally, I'm quite pleased. I think the brown and the jean color go together really well. Sure, you get up close, you can see they're added-on, but at least the line is now even and I don't think most people get that close. Besides. I like it, I think, even more now. So isn't that just perfect? :)
And I ended up getting good grades on my Plato quizzes at the end of the lectures. An evening well spent, methinks.
