A Vested Interest - In the Future...

A couple of years ago, I was thumbing through the NYTimes, men’s fashion supplement and came across a rather smart vest. I’m rather partial to vests and though I haven’t many, I love the ones I have - 2 in particular - as they were purchased on a trip to Paris a number of years ago and have endured beautifully. 
 There is nothing that really sets them apart from most vests (one is a burnt orange corduroy and the other a light yellow, windowpane, wool) other than the quality of the workmanship and the simple, classic cut of them - and they have pockets, which is a bonus. 
 I also like sweater vests but they must not fit loosely and they must have pockets - and for some reason, they are almost impossible to find - strange. That is why I have so few…

The vest I saw in the NYTimes was similar to my windowpane and for an instant, I thought of purchasing it - that is, until I saw the price. I can’t remember exactly how much it was now, but it was somewhere near $500 or $600 and I balked at the price - I mean, it’s a vest, okay!? There wasn’t even that much material to it and designer or no - I thought it was a huge rip-off. I didn’t buy it - besides, I would have had to go to New York to pick it up, making the whole thing farcically expensive.

Then, I had a brilliant idea - I could make my own. Really. How hard could it be? I figured if I bought a sewing machine, a couple of patterns, material, and all the ‘notions’ that one must have, I would come out way, way ahead. The way I rationalized the purchase of a sewing machine was to think to myself that if I only made one vest, it would be less expensive than the one in the NYTimes - and I would then have a sewing machine to make as many as I wanted, thereby actually saving tons of money.

I did my research, found a machine I liked (and a shopkeeper who showed me how to thread it), bought it, and then set about finding patterns on line that might do for my needs. Once that was done, I bought material online and waited for it to arrive.

In the meanwhile, I thought I could have a look at the pattern to see how these things are done. Well, it was a bit of a blueprint-like jigsaw puzzle with diagrams that would baffle an Ikea Draftsman - it was confusing - and I’ve put my share of things together and I’m rather good at it (it’s all about taking the time to read the instructions until you understand them).

Because I haven’t time to go through the step by step - let’s just say that after overcoming the bafflement, the first vest I made was a great success - so much so, that I immediately decided to make another - and another - and then one for my partner’s birthday - and soon I had 4 new vests - but the novelty of it all was beginning to wear off and I thought I could use a ‘little’ break, so 'the shop' was closed.

Some time later a friend, whom we had not seen in years, was in town and came for a visit. Somehow we got on to the topic of the vests and I eagerly pulled one out to display, being quite proud of my needlework. The reaction was immediate - she had to have one for her boyfriend. Now, I don’t do commissions for all sorts of reasons but mainly because I am not a professional tailor and should the garment not be satisfactory, I would be hard-pressed to make any needed adjustments. No, it was more a hobby thing for me.

But she would not take no for an answer and persisted in her request. Did I mention that she is beautiful - actually, gorgeous - and extremely persuasive? Well, she is. And I’m a fool. In the end, I couldn’t say no - and I agreed on the condition that she would supply the material, etc, and once done, I would mail it to her.

Well, I must have been out of my mind. The material arrived and it was some sort of velvety stuff that, for the life of me, I couldn’t get to lie still on the table. First, I had a helluva time just trying to cut it - because it was alive and would not stop slithering. Then, every time I tried to pin 2 pieces together in order to sew them, they would ‘crawl’ away from each other. I began to fear it. This was not a good thing.

After many attempts, I broke down and sent her an email saying that I would try my best but that I feared the worst and the vest might never be made. Because of her complete confidence in my abilities she told me to do my best and that she was certain it would all be fine…

In May, we’re planning a trip to New York. It’s going to be fun. Except for one thing. That’s where she lives. And we’re seeing her. She’ll be expecting the vest she’s been waiting for - for about 2 years. From where I’m sitting, I can see the bag that contains the pieces that have not yet been sewn - and my stomach churns. I’m going to have to start working on it again. Soon.

Wish me luck - I’m going to need it.