Nathan I.
Yelp
Fabric stores scare me. I'm good at doing a lot of things (most of which I am unable to list on a resume), but if I had to thread a needle to save the world from atomic annihilation, we'd all be nothing but wisps of carbon by the end of it.
My uncomfortable relationship with sewing began in 6th grade, where we all were required to take home economics with one semester devoted to cooking, and the other to sewing. The cooking portion was awesome; I was partnered with three cute guys and managed to bake what ended up being the first and last batch of cookies ever created in my life. Peanut butter, at that. And not bad.
Sewing was a whole different nightmare. My practice sheets of paper trying to keep a straight line on the machine may as well have been me randomly stabbing it with a sharpened pencil; it was all over the damn place. Needless to say, I couldn't even begin to follow curves or sew with real material. By the end of class #2, I'd decided that sewing machines and anything sewing-machine-adjacent was complete and utter bullshit.
My teacher informed us our final project was to sew together a mini duffel bag. Fat chance, lady. Mine was so deformed and beyond repair, the teacher allowed me to take it home and work on it for two extra days. Being Nathan, I demanded my mom take it to our seamstress to complete it for a nominal fee. When I presented a perfectly sewn bag to the teacher, she narrowed her eyes in naked suspicion and asked how the stitching could be so perfect, when for four months I couldn't have sewn a button on a shirt if my life depended on it. I told her I "just got the hang of it one day". I smiled my shit-eating grin, and she reluctantly gave me a 100. Blatant cheating, FTW.
Places like JoAnn Fabrics bring all of these traumatizing memories back, and this place was no exception. It's a little strange, because the "craft gene" is so hit or miss in my family; my uncle is an artist, and my aunt can practically shit out an entire house of do-it-yourself projects with little to no effort. And me? Pornographic stick figures is about all I can accomplish.
I came here looking for ribbon for Lisa's birthday presents. Her wrapping paper was a pink hounds tooth, so I was thinking a nice Kelly green, a la Lilly Pulitzer. See? I have an eye for putting stuff together and for interior design, I just lack the hand eye coordination to actually do it.
I passed by the center of the store, where two ladies were busy sewing some fall-ish looking cornucopia pillow. I found it interesting they were using a computer program to adjust the needle and the design. It's nice to see even ridiculously boring pastimes from the "Little House on The Prairie"-era can now also be married with technology. Fascinating...
Ribbon, ribbon. It seems odd I can't find the ribbon in a craft store. I stopped an older woman who was dragging a cart and asked her to point me in the right direction. From her nametag, it said her name was Cindy, and next to it was written "The Workhorse". I found this kind of sad, actually. It may be an inside joke among the staff, but to me it made me think JoAnn Fabrics might be running an extralegal ring of indentured servants or something.
Cindy was more than helpful, showing me all three ribbon locations (including thicker outdoor ribbon meant for outdoor pots), and explained which were sold by the yard and which by the spool. I engaged her a little more about stuff I didn't care about, mostly because the task I was distracting her from looked heavy, and I wanted to give "'The Workhorse" a break. She was sweet. And that was my good deed for the month.
There was some confusion as to who was next in line, and the way it played out I may have cut in front of some older woman who then gave me the stink eye. Relax, lady. I'm buying one $3 spool of ribbon; you'll be able to pay for your ugly plastic flowers and "Sewing World Monthly" magazine in a matter of seconds.
Well, I probably won't be back anytime soon, unless I really do plan on being either Samantha Jones or Maya Rudolph's version of Donatella Versace for Halloween. Even then, I may not need JoAnn Fabrics, as finding size 11 heels and a decent wrap dress is probably best done at Cross Dress for Less down the road.