So my sister was mucho impressed with her phone holder and zip purse thing, and asked for a bag. You realise, I said, if I make you a bag the strap will break and all your things will go everywhere. Bag! she said. I am not good enough for bags, I replied. Bag! she repeated. (We are short (in many ways) and to the point in my family.)
So, a bag. I went to craftster.org and perused the Jordy bag tutorial and wandered through the thread. Backwards, since it’s like ninety four hundred trillion pages long. And I saw a bag that used two of the fabrics I had: denim and reproduction-Japanese-oddity. Bingo! Two fat ladies, eighty eight!
First I made a pretend bag. I have a habit of making something slapdash as a mockup, then getting bored with the whole thing and just using the mockup and calling it good. To prevent this, I made the pretend bag using the bottom of the denim fabric, which sported horrifying flower embroidery. (I couldn’t buy plain dark blue denim, what is wrong with the world, and specifically Spotlight?) (not rhetorical, I really would like to know) The occasional embroidered flower sported a sequin and/or bead. I KNOW. You just died a little bit inside. Nevertheless, I channeled my inner six-year-old girl and made the bag. (Hey, you know what makes an awful graunching noise? A sequin going through a sewing machine. I’m just saying.) I lined it with some birdhouse print fabric that I disavow ever buying because birdhouses? Jesus Christ. Next thing I’ll be scrapbooking. (Odds of someone reading this who scrapbooks and now hates me: 3 to 1.) I forgot to take a photo of the pretend bag, but it’s on the lounge floor with two holes cut in it from where I rescued the magnetic snap. What, like I was going to throw it out? IT COST ME $1.99. And a piece of my soul, since I bought the tween-themed denim at the same time.
Behold: the bag. Denim, red felt (as I didn’t have any plain red fabric, who knew) and scowling Japanese balls. Heh. And the magnetic snap thing. This, I fear, is the Achilles heel of the bag, rather than the strap; I predict it will come ripping through 2 layers of denim + lining fabric, despite all my efforts. It is one HELL of a magnetic snap. I am pretty sure it was dragging the cast iron frypan towards me as I sewed.
Closeup of Japanese balls. (Hi, search engines! Nothing to see here. Move along.)
Plus matching phone holder. (That’s the red felt thing in the bag). I was feeling generous, since I found out my sister is going to some godforsaken island at the bottom of the country to rescue endangered birds or something. (She’s a zookeeper, I forget if I mentioned that. She doesn’t do that shit for FUN.) (Actually … she does.) So, yeah, endangered native birds weren’t QUITE the audience I was expecting, but hey. You take what you get. And at least they’re not keas, which are attracted to shiny things and would pounce on all her coins when the strap breaks and all her stuff falls all over the ground.
One of these things is a kea; the other is my sister.