The House of Tatterdemalion


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This little piggy. . .

July 4th, 2007 by tatterdemalion

I interrupt my regularly scheduled program of blither and blather and other poorly edited thought to bring you an actual factual really truly completed sewing project!

Never mind that this is a project that I actually finished months ago, or that it only took me a week to do. (Which ought to be a moral to me, because every project I’ve undertaken lately using nothing but supplies on hand has been finished promptly. Anything I’ve actually went out and bought supplies for. . .well, there’s more than a few unfinished projects in my sewing room. [Yep, you heard that right; what you are about to see was made from nothing more than scraps and remnants I had laying around.]) You get to see it now, and that’s the important part.

Reeallly long time readers might remember the Fancy Dress I made. Or rather, remember the girl I made it for. You might remember, maybe, that she was a cute kid? Actually, she still is. And most people notice it. Including her. In fact, she notices it maybe a little too much.

I mean, yes, all girls (even me!!!) go through a girl-y phrase where pink is The Color, and anything that glitters is gold, and all of that. But, there is such a thing as taking it too far, I think. Like when her older brother can drive her wild by doing things like this:

Brother: I’m cuter than you are!!

Girl (quick denial): Nuh-uh!

Brother (with exaggerated, gleeful smile): Yuh-huh!

Girl (louder, with more vigor): NUH-UH!!

Brother: Yes, I am, ’cause–

Girl: You are not.

Brother: Yes, I am, ’cause fuzzy things are cuter, and I have a fuzzy chin!

Girl pauses, confounded by the brilliance of this argument. You still aren’t cuter than me.

Brother, sincerely: Yes, I am. Because I have fuzzy chin.

Girl, unable to deny that fuzzy things are, indeed, cuter, but still refusing to take second place: Boys aren’t cute!! Only—

Brother, still mock sincere: Yes, I am! See, even feel it! (Touches her hand to his chin)


Brother: Yes, I am. Because I have a fuzzy chin, and fuzzy things are cute!!

He could reduce her to tears with this. I was never quite sure if it was because it was so frustrating fighting against such irrefutable logic, or if it was just the prospect of not being the cutest. Shortly, she removed all doubt.

Two of the boys had been horsing around in my sewing room and broke my full length mirror. I went out and bought a new one, but I hadn’t yet disposed of my old one, which was not unsafe but was cracked beyond any ability to portray an accurate image.

So where upon they once again began arguing over who was cuter, he posited that not only was he cuter, she was so ugly she would break a mirror if she looked into it. She vehemently denied it. He proposed testing this hypothesis. She wasn’t stupid; a mad rush to see who would stand in front of the right mirror followed.

He had longer legs, so he won, and promptly informed her that her horrible visage had destroyed the looking glass. She full well knew how that mirror had been broken, and long before she had just stepped before it. All the while yelling that her mirror had been broken before she got there, she attempted to elbow her way in front of the good mirror. He blocked her, horrified, warning her not to brake another one of my mirrors on me with her great ugliness.

As with the fuzzy-chin argument, she progressed from attempts at logic, to attempts at volume, and finally, tears of frustration, rage, and denial of these cruel lies against her perfect form.

It was too much. Not for the brother, who persisted in these forms of torment. Not for her, who gradually learned a bit of callousness, and would stomp off, throwing, “I’m ‘gnoring you!” over her shoulder. But for me.

I couldn’t bear to make her another dress, and add to the already too frequent comments upon her appearance.

For this birthday, I told her, I was going to make her a present she wouldn’t like. Because it was going to be cuter than she was.

Using a pattern that had been copied off of a stuffed animal more than a hundred years old, I made her a stuffed piggy.

Piggy front

Piggy back

As though it was not already unbearably cute, I also made it dresses:

piggy dresses

Here, the piggy is not only wearing the last dress (my favorite one, made out of a seersucker fabric), but also the bonnet I made to go along.

All dressed up

Note the lil’ pocket and sleeves on all the dresses, and the ribbon stitched to the edge of the bonnet.

Strawberry dress

This next dress was almost a disaster. Do you know why?

Green and pink dress

You probably don’t, because the colors appear differently outdoors than they do inside. But here I was, working innocently along, and I supposed that instead of making this dress all of the same fabric and using the alternate fabric for sleeves and pocket, I would make the bodice out of the alternate fabric. It looked very nice, until I put it on the piggy. And then I realized the color of the bodice appeared the be the same color as the piggy!

Lest I be able to cling to any notion that no one else would notice, the same brother who was last seen tormenting a girl a few paragraph above put on a very nice show of scandalized horror that I was corrupting the morals of an innocent child by dressing stuffed animals in dresses with see-through bodices!



I thought not.

Whilst I worked on this project, I tried to think of what it ought to be named. Salomey?

blue dress

No, this pig has blue eyes. Miss Piggle-Wiggle?

Of course not. You would like to think that children would know what sorts of thing ought to be cherished, or creative, or special. But children never seem to agree with you. She ditched the bonnet in short order. . .


. . .And named the stuffed animal “Piggy’s Friend,” because she already had a piggy hand-puppet, so this was a second-place piggy. Later, I heard her referring to it as simply “Piggy”, and I was pleased it had lost it’s second place status. A little bit of investigative work, however, turned up that she had heavily persuaded (not quite of the knee-cap breaking sort, but almost) to call it “Rose”, instead. She went for a compromise, and named it “Rose is Piggy’s Friend”, and instead of calling it “Rose” for short, she called it “Piggy” for short.

Sadly unoriginal names aside, she does seem to be enjoying it quite a bit. It is the toy I most see her dragging around and the toy that she is most likely to take on car trips or tuck under the covers wither her. It’s usually in a different dress every time I see it, and it is taking on a distinctly scruffy look as only favorite stuffed animals can. At first I thought it would quickly fade from favor, as the novelty of it wore off, but she seems to find it a very good fit.

Even if it is cuter than her.

Posted in Animals, Completions, Projects | 2 Comments »

2 Responses

  1. Bluecatahoula Says:

    That. Is. Adorable.

  2. Tatterdemalion Says:


    (And, though it’s a secret, it might not be more adorable than the girl it belongs to!!)

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