If you want something done . . . Part 2

For our front living room window and window seat (as well as some throw pillows, I hope), I months ago chose this Ralph Lauren fabric that I mentioned here. This week, decorator's fabrics are on sale 40% off at JoAnn's, and even though starting Friday they will be 50%, Brad and I scoffed up the 1.2 yards that were left at our JoAnn's (he would probably prefer I call it my JoAnn's . . . ) just in case it was gone by then. 

Oh, and b/c I accidentially took down the old blind and caulked the holes when we began working on the bookcase/window seat redo three weeks ago (oops). So, we've had a bare window by day, and by night, Brad's been taping up a white sheet with duct tape (who doesn't love silver and white?!) so that all those neighbors who are (un-)interested in our lives can't see in. 

Anyway, we decided on a valance and a wooden mini-blind for the window b/c: full drapes will crowd the space too much since there's a window seat and will be pillows there as well; and a custom-made blind (the pull down kind) which is what we both prefer is simply too darn expensive. 

I decided to make the valance myself. How hard could this be? I ask. Brad grimmaces. I'll look for directions online, I say. 

(5 min. passes) 

(Did I mention I don't own a sewing machine?) 

I can't find any no-sew valances that are the kind of thing I want, so I'm just gonna do what I think makes sense, I say. Brad grimmaces (again). I can do this! I say. Just you wait and see! 

(2-2.5 hrs. pass) 

Valance looks lovely; appears to be the correct length; appears to be the correct width. Brad is over-joyed (he has been watching zombies in French, ocassionally glancing my way with some skepticism). We agree to hang the rod and put it up tomorrow (which is today), since it's 10 p.m. 

(19 hrs. pass) 

I hang the rod. We put up the valance. He cheers. I grimmace. Step back. Grimmace again. 

I don't like it laying flat like that. I changed my mind. I want it ruffly, I say. 

He looks at me, then at the valance. Steps closer. Are you supposed to be able to see the seams? he asks. Yes, I say, when fabric is not super heavy you can see the hems through it. Then I look closer. Sunlight streams in through the valance. 

It seems that the brilliant seamstress - failing to realize that you would, in fact, be able to see the fabric folded under for the hems when the sun shines through - did not think to cut the jagged line out of the edge of the fabric or even up the length of said fabric across the width of the valance. 

And, now it's not wide enough, b/c I like it ruffled. So it needs to be twice as long, which of course can't happen unless you would buy twice the length of fabric (which would be ridiculously expensive to do). 

And so: the stitch witchery needs to be ripped out, the fabric edges need to be trimmed, and I need to figure out how you make two valances for one window without it looking idiotic. And then I need to remake it (I'd say sew, but that's not true) and make a sister/brother for it, too. But I face this task with no fear . . . just a little bit of trembling.