My Brush with Project Lameway
I’ve learned over the years to be leery when Frew asks for a favor, despite his innate ability to appeal to my sense of friendship and all its obligations. It’s not like he asks all that often, but when he does it is almost guaranteed that his “favor” will involve me embarrassing myself in some new and improved way. That’s why when he called last week to ask me to be his “model” for something called Project Lameway, I knew to ask for a little time to mull it over before I gave him my answer, which of course in the end was NO WAY! To lessen the blow, I offered to let him use my sewing machine. Then I heaped on the story about how I’d been emotionally scarred at age 11 during the Humboldt County 4-H Fashion Review when I was marked down for my slumpy shoulders and general lack of grace. No one told me I’d also entered a beauty contest. The year before I had won a medal for my snappy gabardine plaid slacks and accompanying belted terry cloth top (all the other 11-year-olds made Gunny Sax knock-offs with quilted jackets). I hadn’t sprouted boobs yet, though, so I guess no one expected me to carry myself in any particular way then. Everything changed once puberty set in. Neither my posture nor my ability to float like a lady was improved by having these problems with my appearance pointed out to me in a public forum by these well-meaning (or mean-spirited?) adults. In fact, for quite a while, things got much, much worse after that...OK, so I’m still a little bitter. Let’s move on…
Frew’s Project Lameway mission was to concoct an outfit from a paper sack filled with thrift store clothes and some other scraps. It was supposed to embody a made-up children’s book character (he figured I’d be the perfect Little Betsey Frankenstein). Relying on his own junior high sewing experience (denim apron), he got right to work hand-stitching half of a red t-shirt to half of another red t-shirt, which turned out pretty cute (I even secretly kind of wanted it). He paired this with a white satin skirt over the top of a black velvet skirt. A white 1970s polyester blazer with one silky arm completed the look (Frew felt a little uneasy about a certain Michael Jackson quality brought on by the latter, but it was too late to turn back). Using my sewing machine, he threw in some random seams to make the thing ride cock-eyed and voila! Fashion happened. Sort of.
I had no idea that when I turned Frew down and joked he should ask Luke to be his model that Luke would actually agree to it. And boy, look how tough he looks in that skirt! He would have had those 4-H ladies quaking in their barn boots.
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