The Saga of That Fabric
I can't believe I haven't typed this up yet, but apparently not. To my surprise, not only have I not told this story here yet, but I have been keeping this journal for over a year now. Of course most of the entries are all about "well, customers are really peculiar sometimes, aren't they?" This is something that happened several years before I started doing tech support for the general public.
Boston's Chinatown technically has parking, if you don't mind paying up to $20 for it. So when we want to go there for Dim Sum, we park in a lot at a T station for $4 and take the train in. One Saturday we were doing exactly that, and meeting two friends who were also taking the train in. My friend A lived in Dorchester at the time, and G lived south of the city. Hello, G. I'm sure you'll see this on your friends page. G parked at A's house, and they took the train in. G's daughter K was also with us.
We all met at Downtown Crossing and walked to our favorite Dim Sum restaurant together, had a wonderful tasty Chinese brunch, and began our walk back. On the way back, we passed several fabric stores, including Clement Textiles. A said, "Do you mind if we detour to take a look at some fabric at Clement? They've got a beautiful fabric in two colors, and I can't decided which one I want. It's $8 a yard, so I can't afford both colors."
Being all hard-core fabric junkies, we agreed to the detour. Apparently the store had a lovely sari-type fabric in three colors. One was a blue and gold, one was red and gold, and the third was purple and pink. A didn't care for the third, but really liked the other two. It was in the silk section, and the store was claiming it was pure silk, but we were all well aware that this store lies about fiber content, and A said she was certain it was pure polyester.
When we got to the store, we got hung up for a minute on a painted velvet in the window. The fabric was a rich burgundy, with a floral design in thick paint. Coincidentally, I'd found a remnant of this same fabric in Sewfisticated Fabrics in Somerville a few years previously. It was not likely they'd have any more, but it got us thinking about them. The fabrics A wanted were gorgeous -- one look and I coveted them too. G was more into the velvet. So we decided that everyone would come back with me, take brief break at my house (I had just bought a new sofa and loveseat, and wanted to show them off. This is what helps me date when this happened, because we bought them around either in 2000 or 2001, fairly early in the year), and then go to Sewfisticated to see if perhaps they had some of these fabrics at a better price.
Sewfisticated is packed. Sewfisticated is a discount fabric store with both a good to excellent selection and good to amazing prices. Plus the fabric is usually labeled correctly. The only problem with the store is the owner, who occasionally has said some very rude things to me about her minority customers. Nevertheless, she has skajillions of minority customers because people are willing to put up with some shit for a bargain.
The owner has been very nice to me, but then not only am I not a minority, but when I buy fabric I tend to just buy the whole bolt. Well, when you're making historic clothing, you're talking full length full skirts, and at my size you really want to have at least five yards of anything or why bother? And at this time I had the best-paying job I've ever had, so the fabric stash was growing.
We wander around this store, surfing the crowds. There's no more of the velvet, no surprise. But we do find --- the purple and pink. The one nobody wanted. I pick it up for illustrative purposes, and go hover somewhere near the enormous line at the register. The owner glances up, and to my complete startlement says, "We also have that in blue and gold in the van."
She's got about eleven yards of it on the bolt at $4 a yard -- half of what Clement was charging. Win! A decides to take all of it, so we hang out waiting for someone to get a chance to run out to the van.
While we're waiting, a woman comes up and is trying to get some help from the owner. Now, I believe I have correctly given the impression that the owner does not have the greatest people skills in the business. She knows her stuff, but she's blunt to the point of being rude, and sometimes she's just rude. This woman is not a minority, but she is a novice sewer who wants some handholding, and the owner basically tells her to fuck off, we're busy.
Since A and I have a great big helpfulness streak and are standing around right there, we take it on ourselves to help this woman. She tells us she is taking a class to learn how to sew, their first project is a vest, and the instructor gave them a shopping list and told them this store would have everything they need. Unfortunately the instructor did not tell the store that she was going to send 15 people there looking for McCall's pattern 894nvur9878t59, so all the store has left is XS and XXL. So the question at hand is, where can this woman find this one specific pattern? She needs it for class on Tuesday, so it has to be someplace she can get to today.
Now, mind you, A and I are at a little bit of a disadvantage here. We know the fabric stores pretty well, but neither of us buy patterns all that often. We're mostly making historical clothing here, and we're both large women for whom standard patterns are too small, so we're used to drafting our own patterns.
There are several fabric stores within easy walking distance of one another in downtown Boston's fabric district. Clement, Windmill, New England Textiles, all have patterns. But this lady doesn't want to drive to downtown Boston. Well, neither did we, so we can't really blame her.
The owner had suggested she go to their other branch, in Dorchester. This woman didn't want to drive through the city either. There may have been a touch of fear there, too. Dorchester has a lot of bad pockets of gang violence. Certain types of nice white people think all of Dorchester is like that, and while they're not racist . . . Remember, my friend A lives in Dorchester, and G and I visit her regularly there, and all of us are as white as you can get without actually living underground.
There's a fabric store only a couple blocks from here, but neither of us know for sure if it sells patterns. It's likely to, though, so it's worth a look.
But definitely if she wants to drive to a store, Fabric Place or Joanne's Fabrics will have it. Now Fabric Place has two locations. Framingham's a little far, but she could go to the one in Woburn. The closest Joanne's is in Saugus, just up Route 1.
"Saugus!" this woman wails. "I don't want to drive to Saugus! I had to drive 20 minutes in Cambridge traffic to get here! Oh, this is so hard! I've wanted to learn how to sew my whole life, and I'm finally getting to take this class. The instructor said this store would have everything I need! I have to have this pattern for Tuesday! What am I going to do? This is too hard -- maybe I should just drop the class!"
I have been hoping ever since then for the poor instructor's sake that she did drop the class.
Meanwhile someone has been out to the van, and A pays for the bolt of blue fabric. We ask about the red, and the owner says there was supposed to be some on the van today too, but it's not there. She calls up her husband at the other store.
"What happened to that bolt of red fabric?"
"You kept it for yourself? That's not nice. Being married means you're supposed to share."
"Well put it on the van for Tuesday!"
She tells us if we want to come back Tuesday, they'll have some of the red fabric, or we could go to their Dorchester store and pick it up today. The original plan had been for G and A to take the T back to Dorchester, but heck with that, as their good friend I could not possibly just dump them like that, I am honor bound to take them to Dorchester. And on the way, we'll stop off at the other store.
Wandering around the other store, I get the sense that the husband is slightly better with the customers. His store is larger and is able to keep more counter help. It's also packed. We look at every bolt in the store. We don't have to. We found the purple and pink early on, and another bolt of the blue and gold about two-thirds of the way through. But in case you haven't figured it out yet, we're fabric junkies. She who dies with the most fabric is dead. When's the estate sale?
G doesn't want any of this particular fabric -- she's given up on the velvet, and is just along for the ride. So the bolt of blue is mine all mine. I go to pay for it, and just as I'm finishing up writing out the check, the person next to me says, "Oh, you had it in blue, too!" She's buying the red and gold!
I ask the girl behind the counter if they have any more of that. She says it's in the back room, but there's a waiting list for it, but she thinks most of the people on the list have come in already, so she'll speak to the owner, how much do you want? I say, "Well, I only want 10 yards, and A only wants 10 yards." Ha, do you like how I slipped that "only" in there? So she goes off to talk to the owner, who give us a look, then conspicuously ignores us for a couple minutes, then sneaks up when no-one is looking. Now I'm feeling like we're in a spy drama.
He whispers, "Here's the deal. We got some of that fabric in in December, and I put it in the windows because it looked Christmassy. Then a ton of people wanted it for drapes, so we sold out, but they kept asking for it so I told my supplier to keep a lookout for more of it. I think everyone on the waiting list who really wants it has come in already, but the supplier has another bolt so I'm going to have him send it to me. So if you want some, OK."
OK. That was a lot more backstory than I needed, but if we have to listen to storytime to get our fabric for basically half price, I'll take it. So we get our fabric and go home.
I still haven't made anything from it.
Boston's Chinatown technically has parking, if you don't mind paying up to $20 for it. So when we want to go there for Dim Sum, we park in a lot at a T station for $4 and take the train in. One Saturday we were doing exactly that, and meeting two friends who were also taking the train in. My friend A lived in Dorchester at the time, and G lived south of the city. Hello, G. I'm sure you'll see this on your friends page. G parked at A's house, and they took the train in. G's daughter K was also with us.
We all met at Downtown Crossing and walked to our favorite Dim Sum restaurant together, had a wonderful tasty Chinese brunch, and began our walk back. On the way back, we passed several fabric stores, including Clement Textiles. A said, "Do you mind if we detour to take a look at some fabric at Clement? They've got a beautiful fabric in two colors, and I can't decided which one I want. It's $8 a yard, so I can't afford both colors."
Being all hard-core fabric junkies, we agreed to the detour. Apparently the store had a lovely sari-type fabric in three colors. One was a blue and gold, one was red and gold, and the third was purple and pink. A didn't care for the third, but really liked the other two. It was in the silk section, and the store was claiming it was pure silk, but we were all well aware that this store lies about fiber content, and A said she was certain it was pure polyester.
When we got to the store, we got hung up for a minute on a painted velvet in the window. The fabric was a rich burgundy, with a floral design in thick paint. Coincidentally, I'd found a remnant of this same fabric in Sewfisticated Fabrics in Somerville a few years previously. It was not likely they'd have any more, but it got us thinking about them. The fabrics A wanted were gorgeous -- one look and I coveted them too. G was more into the velvet. So we decided that everyone would come back with me, take brief break at my house (I had just bought a new sofa and loveseat, and wanted to show them off. This is what helps me date when this happened, because we bought them around either in 2000 or 2001, fairly early in the year), and then go to Sewfisticated to see if perhaps they had some of these fabrics at a better price.
Sewfisticated is packed. Sewfisticated is a discount fabric store with both a good to excellent selection and good to amazing prices. Plus the fabric is usually labeled correctly. The only problem with the store is the owner, who occasionally has said some very rude things to me about her minority customers. Nevertheless, she has skajillions of minority customers because people are willing to put up with some shit for a bargain.
The owner has been very nice to me, but then not only am I not a minority, but when I buy fabric I tend to just buy the whole bolt. Well, when you're making historic clothing, you're talking full length full skirts, and at my size you really want to have at least five yards of anything or why bother? And at this time I had the best-paying job I've ever had, so the fabric stash was growing.
We wander around this store, surfing the crowds. There's no more of the velvet, no surprise. But we do find --- the purple and pink. The one nobody wanted. I pick it up for illustrative purposes, and go hover somewhere near the enormous line at the register. The owner glances up, and to my complete startlement says, "We also have that in blue and gold in the van."
She's got about eleven yards of it on the bolt at $4 a yard -- half of what Clement was charging. Win! A decides to take all of it, so we hang out waiting for someone to get a chance to run out to the van.
While we're waiting, a woman comes up and is trying to get some help from the owner. Now, I believe I have correctly given the impression that the owner does not have the greatest people skills in the business. She knows her stuff, but she's blunt to the point of being rude, and sometimes she's just rude. This woman is not a minority, but she is a novice sewer who wants some handholding, and the owner basically tells her to fuck off, we're busy.
Since A and I have a great big helpfulness streak and are standing around right there, we take it on ourselves to help this woman. She tells us she is taking a class to learn how to sew, their first project is a vest, and the instructor gave them a shopping list and told them this store would have everything they need. Unfortunately the instructor did not tell the store that she was going to send 15 people there looking for McCall's pattern 894nvur9878t59, so all the store has left is XS and XXL. So the question at hand is, where can this woman find this one specific pattern? She needs it for class on Tuesday, so it has to be someplace she can get to today.
Now, mind you, A and I are at a little bit of a disadvantage here. We know the fabric stores pretty well, but neither of us buy patterns all that often. We're mostly making historical clothing here, and we're both large women for whom standard patterns are too small, so we're used to drafting our own patterns.
There are several fabric stores within easy walking distance of one another in downtown Boston's fabric district. Clement, Windmill, New England Textiles, all have patterns. But this lady doesn't want to drive to downtown Boston. Well, neither did we, so we can't really blame her.
The owner had suggested she go to their other branch, in Dorchester. This woman didn't want to drive through the city either. There may have been a touch of fear there, too. Dorchester has a lot of bad pockets of gang violence. Certain types of nice white people think all of Dorchester is like that, and while they're not racist . . . Remember, my friend A lives in Dorchester, and G and I visit her regularly there, and all of us are as white as you can get without actually living underground.
There's a fabric store only a couple blocks from here, but neither of us know for sure if it sells patterns. It's likely to, though, so it's worth a look.
But definitely if she wants to drive to a store, Fabric Place or Joanne's Fabrics will have it. Now Fabric Place has two locations. Framingham's a little far, but she could go to the one in Woburn. The closest Joanne's is in Saugus, just up Route 1.
"Saugus!" this woman wails. "I don't want to drive to Saugus! I had to drive 20 minutes in Cambridge traffic to get here! Oh, this is so hard! I've wanted to learn how to sew my whole life, and I'm finally getting to take this class. The instructor said this store would have everything I need! I have to have this pattern for Tuesday! What am I going to do? This is too hard -- maybe I should just drop the class!"
I have been hoping ever since then for the poor instructor's sake that she did drop the class.
Meanwhile someone has been out to the van, and A pays for the bolt of blue fabric. We ask about the red, and the owner says there was supposed to be some on the van today too, but it's not there. She calls up her husband at the other store.
"What happened to that bolt of red fabric?"
"You kept it for yourself? That's not nice. Being married means you're supposed to share."
"Well put it on the van for Tuesday!"
She tells us if we want to come back Tuesday, they'll have some of the red fabric, or we could go to their Dorchester store and pick it up today. The original plan had been for G and A to take the T back to Dorchester, but heck with that, as their good friend I could not possibly just dump them like that, I am honor bound to take them to Dorchester. And on the way, we'll stop off at the other store.
Wandering around the other store, I get the sense that the husband is slightly better with the customers. His store is larger and is able to keep more counter help. It's also packed. We look at every bolt in the store. We don't have to. We found the purple and pink early on, and another bolt of the blue and gold about two-thirds of the way through. But in case you haven't figured it out yet, we're fabric junkies. She who dies with the most fabric is dead. When's the estate sale?
G doesn't want any of this particular fabric -- she's given up on the velvet, and is just along for the ride. So the bolt of blue is mine all mine. I go to pay for it, and just as I'm finishing up writing out the check, the person next to me says, "Oh, you had it in blue, too!" She's buying the red and gold!
I ask the girl behind the counter if they have any more of that. She says it's in the back room, but there's a waiting list for it, but she thinks most of the people on the list have come in already, so she'll speak to the owner, how much do you want? I say, "Well, I only want 10 yards, and A only wants 10 yards." Ha, do you like how I slipped that "only" in there? So she goes off to talk to the owner, who give us a look, then conspicuously ignores us for a couple minutes, then sneaks up when no-one is looking. Now I'm feeling like we're in a spy drama.
He whispers, "Here's the deal. We got some of that fabric in in December, and I put it in the windows because it looked Christmassy. Then a ton of people wanted it for drapes, so we sold out, but they kept asking for it so I told my supplier to keep a lookout for more of it. I think everyone on the waiting list who really wants it has come in already, but the supplier has another bolt so I'm going to have him send it to me. So if you want some, OK."
OK. That was a lot more backstory than I needed, but if we have to listen to storytime to get our fabric for basically half price, I'll take it. So we get our fabric and go home.
I still haven't made anything from it.