My good winter jacket has lost its last button.
I really like this jacket. It is a black knee-length coat with buttons all the way up, very smart, and professional. Now removed of its buttons, it hangs open and drafty when I put it on. No more can I wrap the luxurious wool around my torso and slip the large, smooth, plastic buttons through their button-holes with a sense of security and warmth.
I have put off fixing it, knowing full well I am splendidly horrific at affixing buttons. I always over knot the thread and make a jumbled mess. The bump in the middle of the button is unmistakeable. You can tell a terrifically thumbly person attempted sewing, and failed miserably. I realize this may sound pathetic, but I have tried for most of my life to sew. I’m just not very adept at it. My mother-in-law, on the other hand, is the Bob Ross of the sewing world. She can make anything. Heck, she made the veil for my wedding dress with Swarovski crystals and silk edging, and it was beautiful, and only $20! Let her loose in a Fabricland, and she is like me in a Michael’s.
Much poorer when leaving.
Today, I had a flash internal temper-tantrum of “I don’t want to wear my husband’s over-pouffed down vest *stomp-stomp*”. The only other choice was my over-sized blue winter coat I wore last year when rotund and pregnant. Let’s just say that it would make me look like a pygmy wearing a two-person tent, or a small child playing dress-up in Daddy’s stuff.
I really didn’t want to be the frumpalicious bag-lady walking down the main drag towards the bus station, humongous breast pump bag and lunch tote in tow, mismatched mittens and flyaway hair perfecting the ” I don’t have enough time in the morning” look. All I need to do is sway slightly from side to side on a streetcorner, mutter and look to the heavens, and someone might give me coffee money.
In a desperate attempt to look put together at least once this week, I grabbed the errant coat off its hanger in the front hall closet and put it on. I looked down in dismay at the open front, wondering how I was going to stay warm as I walked today.
Then, I had an idea.
A pin! I could use on of my decorative pins to artfully and tastefully hold it closed! I would look eclectic! I would look fashionable! I would be warm!
I went scrambling through my jewelry, looking for a snowflake pin I thought might work. Of course, today is the day it decided to hide from me, and I could not find it anywhere. Then I searched for the horse-head cabuchon I had not worn for years, but remembered from the dark recesses of scarves gone by. It too was hiding, likely with the snowflake. Likely I will find them both tonight.
What I did find in my jewelry case amid my frantic sorting was a big, fat, slightly bent kilt pin.
I stared at it for a moment, caught between what seemed to be an impass. This was it. This was the only pin that would go through the thick wool, and hold the coat edges together strongly. I turned it over a few times. It was plain, ugly, and quite the opposite of eclectic and fashionable. But, faced with no alternative, I gamely tried it out.
It worked, and with a carefully placed scarf, no one is the wiser. This weekend I amy attempt to replace the buttons, but for now I am content to pin my jacket and put a scarf on. Its not perfect, but then again, no one is.
So now I am warm, I am fashionable, and no one is going to feel sorry for me and offer me a warm and hearty soup from Tim Hortons to ease my apparent suffering.
Although, that might be nice.