Friday, June 28, 2013
"Check checkity check this out!" roared Jorth excitedly, throwing a half-finished shirt at Galumph as he staggered inside after a hard days work. "This, my dear long-suffering husband is placket perfection! See how the stitching is perfectly straight! The placket triangle folded with 60 degree equilateral precision! The interfacing strong yet unobtrusive! The placket underlay underlayed absolutely! Marvel, dear man - marvel!"
"That's nice, dear" said Galumph as he stowed his pannier bag and began to pour himself his post-work soda water and cordial.
"Nice? NICE?" retorted Jorth. "Old chap, I don't think you appreciate the flawless beauty what I have created. This placket is a thing of beauty! Seamstresses shall weep before me. Saville Row tailors shall erect giant monuments in my honour! Craft bloggers shall bow down before me and tremble with fear at my great and glorious abilities. I AM A SEWING GOD!"
"Uh huh" said Galumph, to whom this scene was somewhat familiar. "Shall we tell those trembling craft bloggers about the swearing as you screw it up for the third time in a row? The ranting at the sewing machine? The clouds of tailor's chalk filling the air as you angrily cross out another failed seam? The shower of thread ends falling from your quick-un-pick?"
"Er..." said Jorth, as she sheepishly filled his glass with ice cubes. "Maybe we'll keep the sewing tanties to ourselves, eh?"