Friends Without Zippers

I used to have a seamstress business & I was darn good at it. See what I did there? Darn...seamstress...yeah, I'm a dork. 

I loved sewing & running my own business. I loved that I could run my business without needing day care for my children & I could work my business around their needs. I loved how happy my customers were when I hemmed their favorite pair of pants or made cloth diapers & blankets for their newborn. 

When I was pregnant with #4, I broke my pelvic bone. Can you say ouch? It wasn't enjoyable to walk, stand, sit...it was a lot of pain actually. At that time, my oldest kids were 6, 5, & 3. The only time I got to lay down was when all the kids were in bed, so the doctor telling me that bedrest until baby was born had me literally laughing. I asked her if she was going to pay for the nanny I'd need. My parents worked & couldn't be there every day & I was on my own with the kidlets, so bedrest was not going to happen.

The worst part for me was when I had to close down my business because I couldn't continue to sit & sew for hours at a time. I cried.

I still love to sew, but one thing I have always hated to do, even when someone was paying me to do it was replace zippers. In fact, I charged more for replacing zippers simply because I hated doing it. Out of all the sewing, quilting, crafting I've done, nothing is as hated as replacing zippers. I can't even tell you why. It's not that it's particularly difficult or even time consuming. But I'd rather lay a pattern out on fabric, cut out pieces, pin together the fabric, sew it all together, including putting in a new zipper, than replace 1 stinkin' existing zipper. 

So when my friend asked me to replace a zipper in a skirt, I flat out said no. I can't remember when exactly she started asking me, but it was about a year of her begging me. Over a course of months, the conversation went something like this:

Sweet Friend: Please?

Me: No.

Persistent Friend: Pretty please? It's my favorite skirt & I can't wear it now!

Me: No.

Very Persistent Friend: But you're the most fabulous, awesomest, loveliest, bestest seamstress I know. [those may or may not be her exact words; if they weren't, then I know that is what she wanted to say]

Me: No. 

Well, months go by & I'm sure this skirt ended up in the back of her closet, all sad & pathetic because she was neglecting it. 

Last week my Skirtless Friend had some information I wanted for the ladies' retreat I'm putting together for this fall. Skirtless Friend told me she would mail it to me. The next day I received the packet. I opened the package to find...

...this on top of the booklet. The skirt. With that note.

Such a sneaky little girl she is.

The cleverness behind this act & the note expressing her deep affection for me is what had me at Jo-Ann's in the zipper aisle.