Being the child of a seamstress (hey I can call myself whatever I want, right?) can be a drag.
The above is an example of one of the toys that was bequeathed to my daughter. In case you can't tell, it's a dog.
Often times I have this great vision in my head of a toy to make, which is great, it's the getting there that is the problem. I start out small and practice. The early versions of my toys are often ugly ugly ugly. But that's the way you learn right?
All of my prototypes that are nice enough to survive go to my kids because there ain't no way I'm going to give them to anyone else. The ones that are so ugly you can't even really tell what they are?
Well, they are recycled for the stuffing. I don't want to waste stuffing on something that shouldn't exist.
Heartless, I know.
Anyways, that white dog right there? That was the first dog I ever made.
It shouldn't exist.
It was made out of an oversized overused hand-me-down maternity shirt.
For kicks I decided to let my daughter play with it for a while before I retrieved the stuffing. But that didn't work.
It is her dog now.
And it is loved.