People keep sidling up to me, slightly surreptitiously, as if they want my autograph. But instead of pressing a pen and paper into my hand they keep giving me carrier bags. Generally these are clutched expectantly by the throat rather than being held nonchalantly by the handles and contain nothing more than than a single garment.
It is nothing more sinister than the word getting round that not only can I sew but I can also fix things. And suddenly the favourite shirt or dress need no longer be consigned to the scrap bin. Word has reached so far that on Wednesday one of KC’s 8 year old classmates accosted me in the playground demanding “has Mum given you my shorts? The rip isn’t too bad. I’m sure it won’t take you too long to fix.” Apparently there had been a wardrobe meltdown previously that week when aforementioned shorts (his favourite pair no less) had been discovered with a substantial tear. When Mummy informed him that she was not Mrs Cat apparently he decided to take matters into his own hands.
Perhaps it is just a small step now to bespoke tailoring but that would mean buying yet more fabric….