The Price of Poof

Have you seen the price of decorative throw pillows lately?  It’s outrageous!  Especially when you need more than one, the expenditure for your davenport to be stylish could cost a good day’s earnings and then some.

I have been perusing the “house beautiful” and decorating books of late, and in the spirit of seasonal change and being in the know, I thought if I could change the mood with a few of my fluffed friends… it changed the mood all right, I am downright depressed... I could redefine my living space on the economical side, or as the French would say, cheap.  Although I understand the semantics of why the price tag for owning these overstuffed delights are steep (the fabric, the little decorative doo-dads that are sewn on), the fact of the matter is that these cradles of cushion are two pieces of cloth, usually stitched in a (less than) two foot square and plumped with poof.  That’s it, not much more to it – and for only $60 it could be yours, what a deal.

A light bulb went off. I know how to use my hands – as in, sew.  My mother made sure of that in my youth – she thought it would be a skill I could always use.  My mom proudly sewed most of my clothes (I was the dubious owner of several pairs of hip-hugging and happening bell bottoms in a multitude of colors and fabrics in my formative years – but I must add, I was totally embarrassed to be seen in these creations until a classmate informed me that they were in fact, really cool) and knew the finer points of basting, binding, hemming and using her serger.  She was brilliant in her sewing (and baking, cooking, cleaning, mothering, etc.) skills and her voice (you know, the guilt infused one) rang in my head that YES!  I could stitch up four seams, forego the “store bought” delicacies and be proud of my accomplishment.  How I dislike greatly when she is right.

This wasn’t going to be so bad, except finding a fabric store isn’t what it used to be. J ust as kids think that milk comes from a carton in the grocery store, they probably think that clothes show up on the racks at the local retailer – presto – and can’t fully appreciate the progression of design, cutting, sewing, etc.  To let you know, I think we are doing a big disservice to the youth of today in promoting instant gratification and no knowledge of how things are made – they may appreciate milk and cheese more if they have actually seen up close and personally a cow in their natural habitat to say nothing of understanding that wool humbly begins in the curly confines of sheep (I digress).

With no fabric store in sight, too lazy to search one out and before my attention span waned, I went to Plan “B”, which was detecting something I could use, on the clearance table, for my bolsters of beguilement.  I found it, a curtain panel of perfect complement for only $10.

I dusted off my, circa 1977, sewing machine and went to work.  With the help of some bed pillows donating their stuffings, I created, for a little elbow grease and pennies against a store bought pillow price, my foundation for hassocked happiness.

I must say the gratification of my own handiwork and saving a bit of cash is inspiring and adds to the captivation of my callow cushions.  Besides, my love muffin is privy to the allure and benefits of living with a self-proclaimed domestic goddess and that, in itself, is worth my $10 investment.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-