Simplicity #2880

So, I'm still wondering what's "simplistic" about it? Simplicity pattern #2880 that is. Don't you think that if a company is going to market itself as a brand that produces patterns that are "simplistic" that they should prove to be the opposite of complex? Well Simplicity pattern #2880 turned into anything but.

(I must warn you that the only way to tell this story right is to tell it in its entirety. Even though I'm usually a woman of few words.)

It all started in mid-summer. Right about the time that Manami went home and life on the ranch settled down. Mitch and I started hypothesizing about Halloween costumes. What if we did this? What if you were to wear that? What if we were to spend $80 dollars and multiple sleepless nights putting together the end-all be-all of Elvis costumes? No, the conversation didn't really go like that, but you get the picture. So Mitch and I decided that Elvis would be a really cool costume and since I like the family to have a theme, I decided the girls would be the cutest "Pink Ladies" ever.

I knew October would be hectic so I purchased all of my supplies in September so that I could get an early start. The first glitch came in the early stages. The first stage that is. I was trying to layout the pattern pieces on the material in the order that was illustrated so clearly on the pattern instructions. Unfortunately, I couldn't fit all the pieces on my material.

In desperation, I phoned Simplicity. After explaining my plight to Robyn, the customer service Rep, she told me that I had purchased a "defective pattern". The way she said it almost convinced me that I had won the grand prize (a tactic, no doubt, used to deflect disgruntled sewers). Her technique worked well enough that it took two more phone calls before I had the nerve to ask for monetary compensation for my trouble. Robyn saved the day by sending me updated instructions and a promise for future reimbursement. I continued with my project.

Fast forward three weeks. The kitchen is still a disaster, misplaced straight needles keep turning up in the carpet, Reggie cuts Mitchell's hair (even though we have been growing the Elvis coif for two months) and the costume is still not done. Mrs. Bridge(the teacher who presented me with the coveted Home Economics "Sewer of the Year" award in the 9th grade), would not be proud. So, I decide to stay up all night if necessary, so that I can put the finishing embellishments on the bodice.

The next morning, I arise early. Eager to show my handiwork to Mitchell before he leaves for school. I plug in the iron, anxious to put the final press in the white gabardine and red sequined masterpiece. All of a sudden, I feel a slight stickiness under the iron. To my horror, the silver "Shark" has a sudden meltdown and leaves a hole the size of a dime in the mid-section of Elvis' leisure suit. What happens next is also a meltdown of sorts. After composing myself, I realize the belt will hide the hole perfectly. Disaster averted.

I will now be renting out Elvis, in order to recoup my cost, if anyone if interested.