Now it's time for a funny story.
During the summer of 2007 I had a dream internship with Colonial Williamsburg. Four days a week I was working in the Millinery Shop studying and practicing millinery and mantua making while also putting my interpreter skills to good use. The other day (Tuesday, if you're interested) I would spend with Linda Baumgarten, the head curator of costume and textiles at CW. Needless to say, it was awesome.
Here's the thing about me. I'm a klutz. A super super super klutz, and sometimes I'm a bit ditzy. I can't help it. With that, we also wore pockets everyday with our 18th century clothing, as any intelligent 18th century woman/interpreter/reenactor would. They were big pockets. Lots of room to put things in it and carry with me to keep my hands free. (Wallets, cell phone, car keys, thimble, some thread, needle case, etc etc, maybe some ribbon...often times I looked like I had a growth on my leg...but that was usually around lunch when I would go out into the real world in costume...man I love pockets...) I love my pocket. Love it.
I, being an intern, didn't really have anything to carry my stuff downstairs with when it was the milliners turn to be interpreting. So usually, I held what I could and put the rest in my pocket. (You're seeing where this is going, aren't you? oh yes.) As a result, my pin pillow often ended up in my pocket because it was the most awkward item I carried downstairs with me. I did this...a lot. Seriously. I made this pin pillow too, by the way. It was crimson and cream (Go Hoosiers!).
There was one major mistake with my pin pillow. I though it was fully stuffed, it was not thick enough or stuffed enough to fully hold the pins...so sometimes they would poke through the other end. Acutally, they often stuck through the other end.
Well, one brilliant day, I was making my way downstairs to start our turn in the shop and I, being a genius, put my pin pillow in my pocket. I get downstairs and put my stuff on the table and sit down without readjusting my petticoats.
All of the sudden I'm getting the worst TB test in my bum. EVER. Yes. Oh. Yes. My pillow had attached itself to my rear (more like upper thigh, but you get the drift). The pin pillow needed to be removed, so I, laughing from shock, delicately removed the pillow from my backside. Then, the mistress of the shop had to apply the medical attention (band-aid and peroxide) to my rear since it was impossible for me to reach. Oh, and we're fairly confident I won the 'most ridiculous accident report of the year' award.
I was very proud. Very proud.
And I still have a bad habit of putting sharp objects in my pocket. Oops.
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| This was taken around the same time of the self inflicted puncture wound. Give or take a couple weeks. |