I was completely at home in amongst all the fabric at the Material Gal Warehouse. I had lost count of how many times I had been there over the years. I never bought anything, but I felt every single type of fabric they had. With each touch, my brain exploded into a new design that I had to sketch the moment I got home.
But today’s visit was the most important visit of them all. I steered Jane toward the cheaper fabrics, the ones on sale, and the ones so ugly nobody else wanted to buy them. I knew I could make them beautiful, they just needed the right design.
“Pineapples? Who puts pineapples on fabric?” Jane asked, her face full of disgust.
“They can be pretty,” I said defensively. Just because something was cheap didn’t mean it was also disgusting. There was no correlation between the two.
“There will be no pineapples anywhere near our dress.”
“Fine,” I conceded. Because I didn’t really want to have a huge fight in the middle of Material Gal. I didn’t want to be banned from one of my favorite places to be.
“Now, this one, this is beautiful,” Jane said as she ran her hands over a silky fabric. It was a light purple color, almost blue in its shade. It really was beautiful.
And also way out of my budget. “That’s nice, but I can’t afford it.”
“We don’t need much, only a few yards.”
If I was drinking something, I would have done a spit take. The material was forty bucks a yard. And we needed only a few? Apparently I was in the twilight zone where nothing made sense.
“I can’t afford it,” I repeated. “My budget is about non-existent.”
“Where do you get all your fabric from then?” She asked the question so curiously, like she really couldn’t work it out.
“I buy big clothes from the thrift store and undo them. That’s how I get fabric.”
“And you repurpose them? That takes skill, I thought you didn’t have any.” I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult.
I chose to look on the bright side, otherwise I might have clocked her one. “Yeah, well, sometimes you have to be really inventive in order to get what you want.” I didn’t like the way I had to admit how poor I was. I felt ashamed just having to say it. It wasn’t something I spoke about. To anyone. Ever.
Jane cocked her head to one side as she studied me. My gaze fell to the ground, I didn’t like the way she looked at me. I wasn’t a charity case. “Well, if I’m sewing, I’m buying this fabric.”
“But-”
“No buts,” she interrupted me. “I’m not good at repurposing, I won’t be able to do it. I would rather buy the material I need.”
“We should be going fifty-fifty.” Guilt was creeping in. I never expected her to pay for all the materials we needed. I liked things to be equal.
“You’ve already contributed the design. Just because you didn’t have to pay for that, doesn’t mean it’s not valuable. If you don’t like it, you can wait outside until I’m done. Or, you can help me find everything we need.” She picked up the silky fabric and hitched the roll over her shoulder.
I didn’t dare argue. I’d never seen Jane so assertive. Plus, did she just say my designs were valuable? Wow. Nobody had ever said that before. I was more accustomed to hearing ‘put that damn sketchbook down already’ or ‘stop daydreaming and do the dishes’.
We found more material and then ribbons, plus something called rickrack which reminded me of the waves at the ocean. Or a long centipede. Jane paid for everything – which came to over a hundred dollars. My eyes bugged out of my head when I saw the cashier ring it all up. Jane handed over a credit card, completely unfazed by the total.
Afterwards, Jane drove us to her house, insisting we decide on a design so she could get started. Apparently the deadline was going to be a close call so the sooner we began, the better.
“Is this really your house?” The question escaped my lips the moment I thought it. I really needed to get better at thinking of things before I said them. Otherwise I was going to sound like an idiot for the rest of my life.
Jane pulled her car into the driveway, waited for the automatic doors to pull up, and then slotted her car into the eight car garage. That’s right, I said eight cars. I could have fit three of my apartments into the garage alone.
“This is home,” she said, almost sighing the words. “Help me carry this stuff up to my room.”
I grabbed a bag and followed her into the house. Scrap that, it’s wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. The double story monster was huge. Like, ginormous huge. I’d seen smaller schools.
I trailed after Jane closely, because I could have gotten lost in that place. Seriously, no joke. We climbed the grand, sweeping staircase – which had a chandelier the size of a dinner table – and then walked down a long corridor. There were doors everywhere. It was like walking through the Monsters Inc factory. Except nicer. Much nicer.
“This is my room,” Jane declared as she opened one of the doors. She didn’t waste time before going through, so neither did I.
Everything in the room was white. The bed, the walls, the desk, the lounge suite, the sound system. I almost needed sunglasses just to be able to see it all.
And, of course, it was massive. She had a queen sized bed pushed up against one wall, a lounge and television on the other side of the room. In between was a desk and bureaus. Two more doors led somewhere, I guessed perhaps a bathroom and closet. Man, I bet her closet was huge. And beige.
“Make yourself at home. Do you want a snack or anything?” Jane looked at me expectantly.
“No, thanks, I’m good.”
She sat on the lounge and waited for me to do the same. “So, where’s your book? We need to pick something to do this fabric justice.”
I pulled my sketchbook out of my bag, hoping I didn’t get any of her white ruined by some stray dirt or grime. She probably wouldn’t invite me back again if I marred her perfect room.
As we flicked through together, I couldn’t switch my mouth off. “It must be awesome living in a place like this.”
She shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“What do you mean? It’s beautiful.”
“It’s also empty. You didn’t see my parents welcoming me home, did you?” Sadness ran over her face and my heart actually lurched for her. I had no idea what Jane’s life was like, I shouldn’t have just assumed. I hated it when people did that to me.
“Do they work a lot?” I asked, thinking about my own mother who was barely home because of her job.
“Work, functions, keeping up appearances. They basically find excuses not to be here, I think. Now, how about this design?” She changed the subject abruptly, clearly not wanting to talk about it anymore.
I could respect boundaries. “I like that design. Do you think it would go well with the fabric?” The design she picked out was a long dress with a split that went halfway up the leg. It had a few embellishments to fancy it up, but the shape was supposed to be the main feature. I had tried to make sure it would flatter nearly any shape and hug curves rather than flatten them.
“I could cut it on the bias so it moves well around the hips and chest,” Jane explained. It sounded like we were getting somewhere. I liked it.
“Great, let’s go with this one then.” I tore the page from the sketchbook and handed it to her. “Do your best, partner.”
CHAPTER 5