I’ve been busy getting a duvet cover made for Finny’s Big Boy Room… I have been looking high and low for exactly the right fabric. Only problem? I have expensive taste. Which sucks. For me. And sorta for Jonathan Adler, since I’m not planning on buying anything from him anytime soon, no matter how deep my appreciation runs for white, mid-century-inspired ceramics and cheeky needlepoint pillows.
A duvet cover is also such a big project, for no other reason than the sheer linear feet of sewing, and it is not rewarding. Making a dress or stuffed animal gives you a bit of pride; the feeling like: It was just a flat strech of fabric, and now? (haughty sniff) I MADE THIS. A duvet cover is nothing but a giant fabric bag – which should be simple, but always ends up a bit off. I’ve got my share of sewing projects that I am purty darn proud of, but sewing miles and miles of straight lines is mind numbing. Monotonous. Lackluster. Unexciting. Mundane. Insipid. Exciting enough that one has time to think of numerous synonyms to “BOR-RING.”
I bought a pair of flat sheets to make Finn’s duvet cover. I picked up a pair of plain, white pillowcases while I was at it. During all this dull cutting and sewing and sewing and sewing, I thought; Screw this. I’m taking a break and doing something small.
It started with this tutorial for pillowcases. I followed her instructions but used slightly different measurements since I was adapting a pair of existing pillowcases. I had a pair of cases and I have a pair of children; it seemed only natural that each of them ended up with one. I busted out the scrap stash and got to work.
I love the pattern on Finn’s. I want a shirt made out of that fabric. Which would make me look a bit like a mime/lumberjack. I’m okay with that, though.
Alice’s is a little -ahem- loud, but since I used some of the leftovers from her quilt I made when she was still baking, it coordinates closely enough.
Every time I make something for the kids, I envision their beautiful, happy smiles on their little cherub-cheeked faces when I show it to them. This is not reality. “Finn, what do you think of your new pillowcase?” I hold it up and smile brightly. He glances over with glazed eyes and a dead stare that says Oh yes, Mother. ANOTHER e’ffing pillow. I’m ever so thrilled. “Okay. I have two pillows already, Mom.” Which is better than what I imagine he is thinking.
Does this child realize that one can NEVER HAVE TOO MANY PILLOWS? No. No, he does not.
And so it is back to the grindstone with this damn duvet cover. Not that it is anything spectacular. But I’ve gotten this far into it – and plunked down eight bucks in supplies for it, so I ‘spose I’ll try to see it to the end.
Wish me luck. Karma. Victory. Triumph. Kismet?
My brain’s got all day here, folks.