It's My Mom's Fault
My mother was a master seamstress. She was never actually employed in that capacity but she could sew like no one I have ever known. If it required fabric, she could make it. I still have a winter coat she made me oh ... 15 years ago. Fully lined of course. I mean, who would actually sew a winter coat? She was the consummate perfectionist. No two pieces of fabric were sewn together unless they were pinned AND basted first.
One of the great disappointments of my mother's life was that I didn't inherit her "sewing gene." Lord knows I tried. That lovely Holly Hobbie bag I made in 8th grade Home Ec was a wonder to behold. And of course there was the dress I made when I was 25 that could have doubled as a circus tent. Another major success. But more often than not, when Mom said, "Wanna go to the fabric store?" I would cringe inside.
Eventually I learned to quilt. We shall not discuss how long it took me to learn to sew in a straight line. And even when I did, I still heard my Mom's voice admonishing me to just "try a little bit harder."
Mom's gone now, as some of you know. And apparently I did inherit a bit of the sewing gene after all.
The Bug Wallet, complete with coordinating lining and INTERFACING. I'm even gonna put a SNAP on it. Yeah, I need to go back to work.