So I’ve never been all that handy of a person. Creative, yes, but handy? No. Case in point: I bought 5 simple wooden shelves from Ikea in January that are still merrily leaning against my bedroom wall. It’s (sigh) May.
Perhaps it was the home culture I grew up in – don’t get me wrong, my family is wonderful and have no qualms getting their hands dirty. But they work on things that need fixing or maintaining. Ask them to invent something new just for the sake of it? They would much rather “invent” another cup of chai. Extra strong, please.
![](http://blogs.studentlife.utoronto.ca/lifeatuoft/files/2013/05/indian-chai2.png)
I was 13 when I sewed together some rather hideous scraps of corduroy together and created my very first wearable article. It was a simple corduroy purse, and I had made it from cutting up a pair of baggy, equally hideous pants that I had bought from Value Village (or, as we used to call it then, the VV Boutique).
I paraded my purse (might I add that it was this terrible brown colour) proudly to my parents and brother. Instead of the exclamations of wonder that my ear was ready to hear, I heard stifled laughter instead. My mom couldn’t stop laughing. And my brother? A lost cause. If I could see the purse now, I’m sure I would laugh too. I’m fairly certain that the stitching would be quite uneven, and the strap would be wider one side than another. Like the pants from which it came, it too would probably be, well, hideous.
![](http://blogs.studentlife.utoronto.ca/lifeatuoft/files/2013/05/Value-Village-Ghosts2-300x225.jpg)
![](http://blogs.studentlife.utoronto.ca/lifeatuoft/files/2013/05/indian-snacks.jpg)
![](http://blogs.studentlife.utoronto.ca/lifeatuoft/files/2013/05/maker-kids-photo-198x300.png)
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