Hat-astrophe

Valuable sewing lesson number one. More haste, more speed, not necessarily a good thing. Especially when it comes to making hats which - who knew? - are far trickier than you'd think. I take my hat off to the hat makers out there. Well, I would, if it wasn't several sizes too small and wedged onto my head.
The problem was that I overlooked several fundamental problems. Absence of interlining one. Absence of seam allowance another. Absence of any idea whatsoever about how to sew pretty much covering everything else. It started off fine. After I'd cut out the pattern I got out the pins. Nasty, vicious, poking things suddenly so helpful. I pinned the material, cut it out and trapped coinciding pieces under the machine. Then, deep breath and down went the cheese. We were off, the needle jerking erratically over the red cord as my heart thumped wildly.
Sewing. I was sewing!
Except I was doing it all wrong. In the absence of interlining I found a piece of foam previously used to make a crocodile and sewed it between the lining and the corduroy, making for a very stiff upright which I then attempted to sew the crown onto. Round circle onto flat surface... school maths just didn't equip me for that one. The answer, of course, was to put my foot down, riding rough shod over the problem and finally managing to attach the two parts together. OK so it was uneven and there were holes in the join. You got the gist though. And I made it. I made myself a... oh. I made a fez. An uneven, overstuffed corduroy fez. Apparently you were supposed to have a generous seam allowance so my hat came out many, many sizes too small and perched itself on my head so I looked like the reincarnation of Tommy Cooper.
‘What the fez is that?’ S giggled when I showed him my effort.
‘It’s not finished.’
As if by finishing it off, the hat would suddenly transform itself into the finest millinery creation ever not seen at Ascot.
Sadly the introduction of a wide floppy brim only emphasised the pea-headed nature of the teeny tiny thimble hat. It balanced despondently on top of my head, drooping sad yellow flowers into my eyes and whispering hints into my ears. Pattern... follow the pattern.
A disaster. A hat-astrophe. However somewhere deep within me a spark had ignited and was starting to burn. Two hours ago the hat was just flat material and thread. Now it was an actual thing, an object – and I had created it. With a lot of time and a lot of practice I think I might just get better.
First though valuable sewing lesson number two. Learn the basics.