“Certifiable”. “As Luck Wouldn’t Have It”. “Great Straight Jacket”. “Hardheaded and Soft In The Head”. “Stalk Dirty To Me”.

"Great Strait Jacket"

As the love-child of a pair of world famous clothing designers, I grew up surrounded by sequins and chiffon.  My very first word was camisole.  Although I was sewing before I could walk, I didn’t quite have the flair for deigning like my parents.  I always followed the pattern carefully, my hems were straight; why, I could even put in darts blindfolded.  However, there was one part of clothing that I just couldn’t seem to master … sleeves!  No matter how hard I tried, they never quite came out over the armhole.  It was so bad that I could even get sleeveless blouses and shirts right. 

When I was 15, I started hanging out with kids who said Velcro was better than zippers.  My parents were furious.  They said these kids were a bad influence on me.  (I came to find out later that when they were young they hung out with kids who said snaps were better that buttons.)  I didn’t care about the zipper controversy; I just knew that with Velcro I could make sleeves go wherever I wanted.  What’s more, it enabled me to create clothing designs that could be used for different occasions simply by removing or adding sleeves “on the spot”.  The design took off like wildfire.  By the time I was 21, I was the fourth richest man in the world. 

You know how it is with wealth and youth; they’re soon parted.  I spent my 22nd birthday on the streets begging for thread and rifling through dumpsters looking for buttons.  When I was 23, I got a job sewing rhinestones on clothes for strippers.  The pay wasn’t great, but it paid the bills.  I spent the next several years going from sewing job to sewing job – darning socks, taking in/out pants, mending underwear, and such.  When I turned 30, things finally stated to look up.  I got a job making sweaters for mice.  From there I worked my way up to dogs and then to horses.  Why, next week I have a job interview for making wool outfits for sheep.