“But I’m going to learn.” It was a commitment I made with verve – boldly, and hiding the slight embarrassment I felt to be almost 30 without the basic know-how to mend a loose button.
Despite many opportunities, I never picked up the ol’ needle and thread. Textiles had been an elective at school – I preferred to spend home economics in the kitchen making, and then eating, lemon meringue pie. My great-grandmother was a seamstress during the war – sadly, no wholesome matriarchal-learning stories here. Hell, I even work at – the home of
