Sewing
Irma, the plushie introduced in this comic, still exists and still is Margot’s favourite toy. Thing is, she likes it so much she carries it everywhere. The result: it’s probably the most loved but also the most worn out, damaged, tired toy on Earth.
(And I can’t sew.)
This really hits home with me, ha-ha. My sister had a beanie baby she took EVERYWHERE and we’d dress it up in doll clothes and spin it’s ears around to look like a fancy hairdo all the time. It lost a whisker and had ears repaired more than once.
Heh. My 10 year old son has a baby boy toy he’s had since infancy. it still has an honored place on his bed, though both arms and one leg are shortened and held together by duct tape.
Wait did you replace Irma with pants? A decent pair of pants? The mystery it is real Madam Boum.
They were her own pants. (But she wasn’t wearing them at the time of course)
I have had to stitch up one of my son’s favourite stuffies. It is a really cheap stuffed dog that probably originally used half as much thread as it should have to save 10 cents per unit or something. I’ve had to sew one ear back on, several holes in its bum, etc. Also it’s really small.
But when Slurp comes back from stuffie hospital, the reaction is always worth it.
Frankenirma. :(
Boum, I have used a stitch called the Henson Stitch (named after Jim Henson of Muppets fame) to mend dolls and also vintage clothes. It is a good one, because the stitches are nearly invisible on the surface. There are some tutorials and diagrams online, if you want to learn how to do it.
By the way, I also found sewing classes discouraging when I was a preteen. The kids who already knew how to sew were rather pretentious! But some things can’t be replaced, and so like you I figured out how to mend things — making mistakes as I went along.
Best of luck to the much-loved Irma. <3
This is how i feel every time I am asked to fix something.
Is the toy something you can still get? Might be good to get another one if possible. Not as a replacement, but for spare bits if needed. My parents had 2 of the same monkey that my brother loved. (And he still as at 23).
I have a blanket that I got when I was about a month old, and I kept it in my bed until I was 10. It got very chewed on and beat up, partly because I had a textural fascination and would rub the edge between my fingers until the fabric came apart in that spot. I can’t wash it now because it would fall apart, so it’s in a keepsake box.
I have a blanket from about that age. I was so attached to it that my mother made another one (they were both knit from yarn) just so I’d have one with me while the other one was in the wash. (That failed of course, I wouldn’t part with either. They would have to be stolen in the middle of the night for washings)) I hugged them and chewed on them and pressed them to my ear (sensory disorder thing) so much that “they” became “it”, one big, tangled, blankey that I’m still trying to untie. The “still” part is, of course, a product of still toting it around with me all throughout my house.
At eighteen.