Tuesday, September 13, 2011

A Day at the Beach
















The Crazy Woman in the Fabric Store

All my sisters and I have a deep love for fabric stores. Our mother is very crafty and an excellent seamstress, and as a result we spend many waking hours of childhood in Joanne's, House of Fabric, and Beverly's. Every time I walk into a fabric store, the musty textile smell brings back a wave of nostalgia--running around like maniacs down the isles touching everything I could because it was the only store that I was allowed to do so. Fabric stores were (and still are) some of my favorites to go to simply because it is socially acceptable for me to touch everything in the store.

But this week when I visited the local Joanne's Fabrics, I'm fairly sure that if I were to be seen by the average person, they would have thought I was crazy. Literally. Picture this:

I'm dressed fairly normal. I had gone right after I got home after work, and didn't change, so I was wearing khaki pants, a nice shirt, and wedge shoes. I was on the hunt for some snuggly, soft fabric to back a quilt I am making for a friend (I want it to be so fabulous that people fight over who gets it while watching movies). I beeline it to the quilting section, because I need a few more fat quarters. As soon as I arrive, I immediately am shocked at the variety that was not there three days before. I literally let out a small gasp, and start muttering to myself about how many more purple and green prints there are now. Then my eye catches a fabulous ecru and scarlet zebra print, and I almost have a fit trying to think of what I could make out of that. After more fussing, I decide that I can't think of anything yet and it will be there waiting for me at a later date.

I move to the flannels, to see if there is anything good there. There sure is! But NO WAY will I pay $13.99 a yard unless I have a coupon. Unfortunately, my 40% off coupon is for everything BUT fabric. Of course it is.

I saunter over to the terrycloth, because there is a bolt that looks particularly soft. I continue to run my hands over all the fabrics in the line, feeling the weave and the threads with every step I take. O Fabric, how I love thee!

Then I see the clearance shelves. Bolt after bolt of fabric is just lying there in a huge pile, waiting to be unearthed and discovered and used! My purse falls from my hand, and the top of the quilt that was brought with to match was dropped quicker than a hot iron. I have to look! My lips start moving quickly as I gasp, ooh, and aaaah over the beautiful textiles. Oh man. If only I could take a month of to do nothing but sew!

I find a knit that is textured quite nicely, and I can't complain at the price--$6 a yard instead of $14! Yes please. I wander off with a few extra bolts in my hand, but as I am standing in line at the cutting table, I decide I don't really have the time for this fabric. So i return it to the clearance pile.

I get my steal of a deal fabric cut, and I walk up to the counter to pay. My hand feels a little bit more empty than it should...GASP! I put the quilt top down somewhere! AAAAHHHHH I rush back to the clearance table and scramble until I find it--nicely placed on top of the bolt that I didn't have enough time for. I laughed aloud at my good fortune (not like anyone would have taken it anyway), and practically skipped back to the counter.

So the next time you are in a store and see someone acting a little crazy, don't think less of them. Just come with me to a fabric store and you will understand a little bit better.