Daddy Daughter Dance

I am not a seamstress, by any means.  Nor do I want to be one.  My mother was an excellent seamstress, and she tried to encourage me to learn.  When I was in elementary school, I did participate in 4-H sewing.  I even competed at the state fair with a pair of awkwardly fitting, royal blue peddle pushers.  I probably have a participant's ribbon tucked somewhere in a box.  But sewing didn't stick, and my sewing today is limited to whatever I'm encouraged to sew by good friends here and there.  Sewing Morgan's blue skirt for a daddy daughter sock hop at church was this type of adventure.  Everyone was doing it, so I yielded to peer pressure.  With help, I think her skirt turned out pretty nice, and I enjoyed spending time with friends. 

I borrowed Jackie's pink skirt from a friend.  It was a little dirty, so I washed a few places in the sink with water just a few hours before the dance and hung it up to dry because I knew that the dryer would cause the felt to pill more.  

I was surprised that after a few hours, the felt not only wasn't dry, it was still soaking wet.   Being the smart woman I am, I handed Jackie a blow dryer and told her to hold it over the wet area, and I left to help Morgan get ready.   Little did I know that felt actually melts!  Jackie had accidentally melted some holes in the skirt by holding the dryer to closely.  Poor kid.  She cried and cried.  We could barely get her calmed down for this picture.  

I never understand if Jackie was more upset about having holes in the skirt for the dance, or if she was more upset about having put holes in my friend's poodle skirt.  But my friend was extremely gracious and forgiving when I gave it back.