You can't touch this

Yes, boys and girls, it's time for another episode of sewing class Show and Tell with your host Anandi.

Yesterday I made a potholder. Not just any potholder, but one that works like an oven mitt, where you stick your hand in it. Behold:



Here's the less impressive back (don't pay any attention to the wonky stitching that was supposed to be *under* the bias tape - that's operator error):



This was a really fun project - it had a lot of steps and was really satisfying when the finished piece came together at the end. Even when the stitching isn't perfect, it's still a functional potholder. And really, who's gonna look at my potholders too closely? The side with the wonky stitching is the one that touches the hot things.

We learned how to use a pattern, and cut several layers of fabric at once with a rotary cutter. We learned how to use and sew bias tape, and how to use a zipper foot on the sewing machine to sew down the sides with the cording (to give it more body).

If you want the pattern, my fabulous sewing teacher Eva Holen sells it in quilt stores, and I found one on EBay.

She also let me come in 30 min early to work on my placemats from last week's class, the one I missed. I did the cutting and initial sewing but have a few more steps to do to finish it. She said I could come back tomorrow morning while she's teaching her other class, and finish them up. I'll probably do that since I don't have a job right now. Woo hoo!

I think I must have learned how to do some of this stuff in 8th grade home ec, but I really don't remember it. And I certainly didn't *like* it, not least of all because I had to take home ec at a high school that was totally ghetto, because my Catholic school didn't offer it but required us to take it. It was a very interesting experience from a people-watching perspective for my 11 year old self, but not so much educational. Lots of fights (other people) and a lot of PDA (because it was a high school). Oh, and the worst part was that our principal nun had to drive me there because I didn't live in that school district. *So* embarassing.

Boy, am I glad not to be a kid anymore.