No Photos!

Lesson no. 394 for The Lesser Spotted Sewist: I’d make a terrible celebrity. I wore my Rooibos dress to work this week. I’ve worn this dress to work before and not a soul commented on it. I always take that as a good sign – it means that there are no drooping hems or gaping zips to scream, ‘This dress is homemade by a fool!’ This week, however, someone complimented me on the dress and asked where it came from. Reader, I could not tell a lie. I admitted that I’d made it. There was screeching. There was peering. There was more screeching and there were about ten faces who all turned in my direction to see what the fuss was. My response? I swivelled my chair round so that I was facing the wall and put a scarf over my face. Then I put my face in my lap and begged, ‘Please stop making a fuss.’ By this time my boss (who I love) was laughing a lot and he pretty much hasn’t stopped laughing since. ‘Did you make that?’ he now asks. Every. Morning. Whatever I wear.

Making A Fuss. That’s pretty much the worst thing you can do with someone who grew up in the North of England where no one – no one! – is allowed to get above themselves. There’s a cure for that where I come from: a well aimed and acidic jet of sarcasm. Seeking out attention is just not the way we’re made or trained. An American colleague and now much-loved friend said to me on our first meeting, ‘So. Tell me about yourself.’ I could actually feel my insides shrivelling. I’m as likely to put myself centre stage in that way as I am likely to dance naked down the street. Talk about myself? Are you kidding? It’s just not British.

So here’s my quandary. I blush to the roots of my hair when someone compliments me in the office on my sewing. Yet, I’ve decided to set up a blog about … my sewing. That girl who hates attention? She’s just started platforming herself to the entire world. How does that work? I obviously have a need to share, and I’d better start getting used to the attention. Because the cat is out of the bag now. People know I sew.  And I can see it getting worse: someone has already dropped a heavy hint that she’d like me to sew something for her. I have enough trouble getting things to fit on my own body, always available for fittings at the drop of a hat. But sew for other people? No, sirree. Do I look like a masochist? Put the tape down, Karen. Don’t start measuring your best friend. Step away from the pins. You know where it will end. More screeching…

Here’s a photo of me wearing the Rooibos dress. Can you just, like, pretend you haven’t seen it? I don’t like a fuss to be made.

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3 Responses to No Photos!

  1. What a great post! LOL. You do look like a celebrity in your Rooibus dress, so I guess it does explain the fuss. lol

  2. zoe says:

    hahahaha! Sorry, I need to make a fuss, it looks great and you’re going to have to stomach the praise! This post made me laugh a lot as my boyfriend is from Darlington and I’m from Essex, so even though we met and presently live in Barcelona, we still have lots of North/South divide arguements. You have just given him some more ammunition. Zoe x

    • Very interesting, Zoe! One of my best friends is from Essex and we have a theory that Essex and Derbyshire (where I come from) have a lot in common, actually. Lively Saturday nights on the town and a down-to-earth approach being two things we share from our adolescent years. Thanks for the kind comments.

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