Waistcoat

Today

I'm in the process of making a waistcoat for my brother-in-law. He bought one off "Handmade by Julia" but had failed to take into account the fact that, like all of us, he's not as slender as he used to be. So I'm making another one.

I have several waistcoat patterns and when I pulled out the one I'm going to make I found myself reminiscing about the first time I used it.

In My Day

Like many of my creations, the idea for the garment came first from the fabric. Back in 1999 I'd picked up a remnant of foil-printed cloth with a design of metallic musical notes. "That's ideal for a waistcoat for David!" I thought. I found a pattern with a rather swanky low-cut front with curved collar and set to work.

I'd never used foil-printed fabric before and quickly discovered that a: it's very slippery and b: it's slightly see-through. Pas de probleme - I would just interface it. However, I only had white interfacing in my stock and the design was printed onto black. 

It was a few days before Christmas and I was working in Bath. So I nipped out to the local fabric shop to buy what I needed. The shop was off the main road and had a high step to get into the front door. I bought my interfacing, enjoyed a jolly chat with other fabric inspired ladies and turned to go. Alas! My foot slipped on the steep and slippery marble step and I sprawled onto the pavement inelegantly. 

I knew straightaway that standing up would be a bad idea. A small crowd gathered asking if I was OK? No. I was not. The lady from the shop kept popping out to offer me cushions, water, tea. Eventually I replied firmy - "Would you just please call for an ambulance?" She scuttled off to do this. A kind passer-by crouched down in the damp and cold and gently elevated my leg, resting it on her knee. A curious bystander asked if she was practising Chinese healing. "No", she said "I'm holding up her leg!"

I was taken to the hospital where an x-ray revealed that I had fractured my right navicular bone and sprained the ankle; a very painful combination. The plaster was removed after a couple of days, so that I could treat the sprain with frozen peas.

Well, you might ask, did David get his waistcoat in time for Christmas? The answer is yes. I managed by working at it over frequent very short periods, resting when the action of my foot on the machine pedal was too painful.

And I believe he still has it, although it was later recycled for some event or other by covering the crotchet-covered fabric with a bright shiny leprechaun green, a style of which I'm not so fond.

I wish I'd known the name of the kind lady who held my foot up out of the cold and wet. I'd like to thank her.