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Project Runway, Here Comes Annabelle — and Grandma

posted Tuesday October 7th, 2008

I had a feeling she’d come home from Grandma’s with something, but I didn’t think I’d be impressed. I was.

On Saturday, Annabelle and I finally snuck away for our long-awaited trip to SAS Fabrics. The logistics were tough — this just isn’t a place for Sophie, not unless you want to give me some meth to snort first. Otherwise she’d be off like a flash, lost amidst piles of probably-not-too-clean remnants. Everything’s at Sophie height, at SAS, from buttons to patches to pokey stuff with pins on the back and sharp edges on the front (those rhinestones can be murder). I had visions of losing her in a heap of tulle.

So we waited til Sophie took a rare afternoon nap and called goodbye to Ray as we were out the door.

For $28, we had a wee of a time, as my mother would put it. I got some random stuff I’ll never use: silver lame-esque rick rack, pieces of fabric with vintage Snoopy designs, iron on patches shaped like those cute Russian dolls that were “in” last year. (What I’ll do with them I haven’t a clue, since I already know I can’t manage to get Annabelle’s Brownie patches to stick.)

But Annabelle’s purchases were the main event. She got a wad of fabric squares for 25 cents each, rhinestone appliques for $2.99, rolls of lace (65 cents) , tiny flowers (50 cents) and a hunk of the palest pink satin (99 cents a yard).

I chucked the blue plastic bag in the bigger bag we were hauling over to my mother in law’s yesterday, and figured eventually, something would come home. At first, Annabelle said she was planning to make a dress for a friend. But when I got home last night, she was wearing the creation herself: A satin floor-length gown, sleeveless, with lace trim and flowers. It went nicely with the Halloween tattoo on her bicep and her mouthful of missing, growing-in and wiggly teeth. And her enormous smile. (This morning I found her original pencil designs and some photos the fashion photographer — Grandpa — took on the back patio.)

“She designed it herself!” Ray announced, as Annabelle twirled and bowed.

A designer (with a wonderful assistant) is born.

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