I said that Monday night. Two o'clock Tuesday afternoon: i have about half an hour of sewing left and then i have to go to Queen street, get button holes made and buy some buttons before the shops close at five or six. Easy. Yeah right.
This is for my final sewing project, due at 9:30 the next morning and worth a huge chunk of my mark (not to mention my entire reputability as a design student). I am a week late finishing this project because of my neck and its started to become a burden. On my walk through the building i pass by a bunch of people setting up for Mass Exodus - the fourth year fashion show. My heart started beating a little faster thinking about my time to shine three years down the road. But there was no time for that.
I get to the sewing lab, cut out my little squares of fabric, and get to it. There is two sergers in the first year lab. I go to the first, broken needle. I go to the second, the needle is in place but there is no thread. Everyone else is done...the machines aren't set up anymore. Luckily there was a girl in the lab who was nice enough to set it all up for me. Twenty minutes later i finally get started. I'm about half way through it when the needle breaks. Shit. I calmly gather everything together and move into the overflow lab and attempt to thread the serger in there. Another half hour later, after some help from a second year, i am still no closer to a working machine. It is now 3:00.
Downstairs i go. I am now on a hunt for the tech's new office. I find it without to much trouble but Audry's not there. Shes off running errands for Mass Ex. The lady in the office tells me to go upstairs and wait for them to come in a few minutes. So i wait...and wait....and wait....3:45.....finaly. Audry quickly fixes one machine and leaves another lady to do the other. As she finishes up, the lady (we can call her physco bitch from hell) turns around and proceeds to yell at me, giving me a lecture about setting up the machines the right way the first time because they don't have time to fix our mistakes. 'you may be in first year now but you wont be for long and you girls better start taking responsibility and thinking about what you are doing!!' Whoa. At the beginning of the semester we were given one 2 minutes lesson on this machine and this was about a month before we were ever allowed to even touch it. None of us has ever actually set it up since. By now I'm used the the catty fashion admin so i don't even bother to defend myself. I smile politely keep my eyes on the floor and sit down at the machine as she storms out of the room.
4:20...i can think of more than one thing i would rather be doing now. I thread the machine
4:35. I try to serge. Wait...whats this? Oh! PBFH put the wrong effing needle in the machine!!! talk about doing things the right way the first time...who's around to fix your mistakes you dumb broad?!! There is no way I'm going to tell her. And i don't have time to figure out the other machine. Two and a half hours later i am exactly where i started, screw the serging, i sew it together without finishing the edges and head for home.
5:15 marking buttonhole placements
5:25 looking up phone numbers and addresses, hoping to find somewhere close to home that is still open.
5:30 on the phone with the guy from Queen Street Tailors and Alterations
Me: Hi, i was wondering if i can still get some buttonholes made if i come down right now
Guy: yeah sure, but when can you be here because we close in half an hour
Me: Ill be there in 15 is that OK? i only have 10 holes.
Guy: Yea that's fine, come on down
I could probably make it there in fifteen minutes on the streetcar but I'm not going to risk it. So i fork up the ten dollars for a cab ride over...
5:40 the cabbie misses the shop and drops me off five blocks away. I book it out of the cab. As i get out this wigger thug wannabe, in a matching camouflage over sized track suite and bandanna, looks me up and down and starts cat calling me. I run down the street. I get to the shop at 5:45 exactly fifteen mututes....perfect...but wait...you have to be kidding me. The lights are off and the door is locked. I peek through the window and see the guy standing in the back room. He takes one look at me and hides around the corner! yeah right. Just when i think i cant get any more frustrated, HE PEEKS IS HEAD OUT, SEES ME AND DUCKS BEHIND THE WALL AGAIN!!!
close to tears i still need buttons. I head over to a little shop down the block, pick up some little black numbers then ask the lady at the till if she knows who can still make me some buttonholes at this time of day. Not speaking much English, she hands me a business card for a Tailor a few blocks away who is open until 6:30. I walk to the address on the card and find myself face to face with a solid black metal door with graffiti and bullet holes. Its locked. I call the number. No answer. By this time 'thug life', as i like to call him, has crossed my path 3 times within the 10 blocks i have been walking up and down and i am in a hurry to get out of there.
I have one chance left. May, a little old Chinese lady who will do it from her basement. If only I had her number and address. I get out my phone...the battery light is flashing. I call Jade who goes upstairs and gets the number for me but we disconnected before it saved in my phone. So i call jade back. no answer. I call again. no answer. Again. no answer. Exhausted, hungry, and very stressed out i lean against the wall and sigh. All i want to do is curl in a ball and cry but there's my new boyfriend again so i cross the street.
RING!!! Its Jade! Thank god. She gives me the number. With my last bit of battery i call May, hop in a cab, and another $10 later I'm at her house. This lady was the cutest little seamstress i have ever met. We sat in her tiny basement while she made me buttonholes. We talked about everything from body piercings, to school, to factories in Hon Kong. True i only knew what she was saying half the time, but it was the best company i had all day. She did charge me a dollar a button and i know she did it for other girls for 85 cents but it was late, and on short notice.
7:30 and another ten dollar cab ride later I'm at home. I'de like to think i've learned my lesson on procrastinating, but only time will tell, and some things never change. One thing is for sure; when all is said and done and i am a fashion designer, i am contracting out ALL of my sewing.
Love Forever
Jamie
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