Jen Scharpen Reading at "Can I Sit With You?", Redwood City, CA
Originally uploaded by GraceD
I’m still not fond of public speaking, but I did this and didn’t pass out. Of course it helped to have so many friends in the audience, along with my mom and Willow and John. And, honestly, getting to wear The Dress that I love so much was good, too. Earlier in the day, I was talking with Lisa Stone about how much our 11/12 year old boys appreciated reading Can I Sit With You? (buy it here, if you don’t have it yet) and what a relief it was for them to hear stories from adults who didn’t quite fit in when they were their ages. I think of it as a gift of perspective, a reminder that there’s a whole, big life beyond school. A supportive community always there on the bookshelf.
My mom came to my office a couple of hours before the reading started, and we had a chance to enjoy a quiet dinner together, which is always wonderful. My mom needs to start a blog. Seriously.
On the way home, Willow fell asleep, so I called Jenny and yakked in her ear for the 40 minute drive. She told me about this contest she’s having, (to win a Wii + WiiFit) and we started laughing so hard I almost drove off the freeway, and I even more almost peed my pants. I’m totally going to write about the Nordic Rider/ Clothes Hanger that I bought when the boys were little. Gawd.
I finally parked in my driveway, and then reached back to the middle seat behind the passenger seat to grab Willow’s left over supper (Niçoise salad, my little gourmand). I heard a sound just then, a Very Awful Hugely Bad sound. The sound of me sitting on the skirt of my dress while reaching back, stretching, just a little tiny bit too far. There was a used cup from Peet’s in the cupholder that I’d stretched over, and I clung to the hope that the sound came from scrinching up against the cup with my ribs while I was reaching back. I got the sleeping Willow inside, along with my bags and computer and the left over supper. I went to get my jammies on, and that is when I saw, in the vanity mirror in my bedroom, the rip. The NOT on the seam rip. The probably NOT repairable rip. THIS RIP:
actual rip = three inches 🙁
I’ve decided to withhold any actual crying until I try and sew it tonight. But, DAMN IT, I am so sad. We’re doing family portraits this weekend with Jen, and I am going to wear this dress. Hopefully it will be okay, even if it’s never really the same. She’s a photoshop master, but I don’t want to try her patience.
Buy some fuseable interfacing and iron it on the inside of the dress. you can try carefully stitching the wound with some tiny stitches and then decide if you can stand it. You will notice it, but it will be but a scar.
thanks, jenb 🙂 that is exactly what my mom said, too. i have red embroidery floss, i think i will use that.
no no on the emboidery floss. fine silk or cotton thread. You will thank me later..
julia, i am thanking you NOW
you were fantastic, jen.
I loved seeing you in action.
You were fantastic, as was that dress. If you love it that much, consider taking it to a reweaver. A really good reweaver.
Here’s an excerpt from your very sweet and confident performance:
I am so sorry about your dress. You looked great and sounded fantastic.
I have a silk shantung suit with amazing buttons and the perfect fit.. unless you are trying to exit a taxi after a bottle of champagne…rriiiip.
It hangs, dry cleaned and scarred for life in my closet. I have been immobilized by the damage for about 6 years.. congrats to you for fixing your dress so quickly.
Jen, had I been in town I would have been in the front row. And so sorry about your red dress. It wasn’t that long ago that we didn’t even have occasions to dress up, so I know just how important that red dress is.
Miss you so much!