I’ll never be a Dressmaker and I’m Completely Fine with That

I’m not sure if two posts in 24 hours is considered overkill. Is it too much? It’s probably too much. I’m sorry about that, it’s just – and there’s no way of putting this without making me sound like a total idiot – I really want to tell you about the time I sewed myself to a sewing machine.

I’d probably be a cracking quality control member for a sewing machine company. This all took place in the first term of year 10, so if I’m counting back properly, I make that out to be autumn 2008. (If you’re unfamiliar with the English school system, I was fourteen. Young, but not young enough to get away with not knowing how a sewing machine works.) Six-ish years ago. I had a big yellow tartan trench coat. (It wasn’t a cool one. 2008 was a dark time for me.)

We were given the (really quite simple) task of making a baby book as a practise assignment for our Textiles GCSE. (Again, if you’re not sure what a GCSE is, it’s a basic qualification that you receive when you leave school at 16.) You know the soft baby books with the padded pages? I’d appliquéd all the different designs to each ‘page’ and stuffed them. The only thing left to do was to sew one straight line, right up the ‘spine’ of the book, and it’d be good to go. I had one job. Should’ve taken ten seconds, if that.

Well.

Turns out I’d been a bit over-enthusiastic with stuffing the pages and they were too springy for me to hold still as I sewed, so my hand had slipped into the line of the needle. What I’m going to call my dressmaker’s instinct (the overwhelming desire to sew as many things as possible, all at once) must’ve kicked in, because I slammed my foot on the pedal instead of doing the normal thing and easing off. Even just moving my hand would’ve been alright; a stitch can always be unpicked and redone. Nah. You can guess what happened next. Luckily the needle didn’t hit any bone or nail, otherwise I think the only possible solution to that would be to just cut the whole finger off altogether. Imagine sewing right through the nail. Nope nope nope nope.

Mum was called, baby book was abandoned, we were urged to rush to A&E by my Textiles teacher. I’m still not really sure why, because once we got there the man I was referred to (Doctor? Nurse? No idea) laughed a bit, and then…pulled the needle out with tweezers. Didn’t even hurt. Haven’t got the scar anymore, but I did for a while. In the end, my teacher gave me a D for the project (which doesn’t actually count as a pass at GCSE level) for failure to correctly use equipment.

Can’t really argue with that one, can I?

Until next time,

Emma 🌼 x

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4 thoughts on “I’ll never be a Dressmaker and I’m Completely Fine with That

    1. I thought so too, at the time! It wasn’t much worse than the rest of the class though – we’d started the course knowing little more than how to cross stitch. I managed to get an A overall but to call it a battle would be an understatement.. It wasn’t actually as bad as you’d imagine, I felt more lightheaded than any actual pain! But at least I’ve done it, so the rest of you don’t have to 😃

        1. As someone who has almost 0 experience with sewing it’s the only piece of advice I can actually give! I’ve just had a look through your blog and you’re so talented; I could learn a thing or two from you!

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