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| Blind Hems make you go blind |
Today marked my last day at my first big girl job. My time as a stitcher at Trollwood has come to an end, and this is good because I don't think I could face another hem without losing my mind. Don't get me wrong I loved my job, but after machine blind hemming for 8 hours I was ready to say goodbye. It was a very sad goodbye as I hugged my co-workers and smiled for one picture of all of us together. Now, I ask you to come with me as we gaze far across the distance and spaces between us into the last 6 weeks.
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| Do it for the children! |
My first day was very interesting, but not really. The new employees were taken on tours around Trollwood, and then down to the Fargo Public Schools District Office to get our IDs printed. Funny thing about getting an ID to work at a school, you need your social security card. My was tucked away in a safe place and not jammed in my wallet where it would've been very useful to me. Thankfully, I was not the only one who was uniformed as my co-workers began making frantic calls to their parents. Not too much sewing happened that day, as we were all getting oriented into our new roles. The next day was great fun! We learned all about what to do if some horrible disaster should strike, take care of the kids and sacrifice yourself for them if need be. After all safety and sacrificing procedures were covered, it was on to sewing. I was handed a box of cut out pieces and told to make them into a dress following the instructions that went with them. Terrified of asking questions I nervously assembled a green dress, and eventually got over my fear of questions as I stumbled across new things I had never seen before.
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| Not user friendly |
The learning continued as I became acquainted with my sewing machine, which I christened Scarlett. She was, of course, named after Scarlett O'Hara because of her sassyness but overall willingness to do whatever it took to uphold the name of fashion. Over 160 costumes needed to be made, and this included many new experiences with: pin-tucks, pleats, zippers, blind hems, trim, tulip sleeves, and of course the industrial steam irons. These irons hated me, and anytime I used them they would spit out brown gunk and stain my fabric. Enraged, I showed my co-workers the injustice my iron had wrought (get it? wrought, iron!!!). They extended their sympathy and then pointed me toward the stain remover and the washing machine. The more work I was given the more questions I had, and the more spools of thread I ended up emptying. It seemed I was constantly making mistakes and nothing was going right for me on the first try. My boss was extremely understanding, but I think she must have been frustrated with me at some point as I continued to bring her projects that tested her patience. It was when I was least assured of myself that the breakthrough came.
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| My hem was that awesome. |
Staring down my sewing machine I tried to use my brain, but it had turned into mush. Nothing was going right, and I was handed a dress and told to hem it. The yards of pink fabric stretched for miles in front of me as I sighed over the amount of work I had to do. Very carefully I marked out my hemline and cut 2 inches below it. Putting in a quick gathering stitch, I pulled the thread as it slowly gave in to my will. Turning up the hem I pinned it in place and took it over to Scarlett. Holding my breath I placed the fabric under the needle and watched my hem come to life. Snipping the final threads I ironed out my hem and gazed upon it's frothy-pink glory. The hem fell gracefully and evenly around the entire skirt, adding an extra flair of girlishness to an already over the top dress. I waltzed it into the main room to show off to my coworkers. My heart began to sing as the proper amount of fawning was given and the term "Hem Whisperer" was dropped upon my name. Finally I had something to claim as my own, I was the queen of the hems.
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| Ahhh co-workers |
More triumphs came my way as I put in 2 different flys into pants, thereby changing them from girl pants to boy pants. No one would ever know those pants had been altered. Even though I was still making mistakes, through the encouragement of my boss and the little victories, I made it all the way to the end of my 6 weeks. It's really hard to believe I won't be waking up tomorrow and heading over to Trollwood, looking forward to the day while dreading parts at the same time. Reality is hitting as I remember that I swiped my timecard for the last time. No longer will I hear Scarlett humming as my co-workers curse over a seam gone wrong. I am so grateful for the things I learned at Trollwood, but most especially for the wonderful folks I encountered there. I don't think I could ever forget the people I met at my very first big girl job.
