Did you miss out on the craft gene?

Is it just me or is it true that not everyone is good at craft? The craft genes run strong in my family. I just didn’t inherit them.

The other day I found myself in my very own personal version of hell – in a huge craft shop in search of craft materials for my son’s school project. The heart palpitations started as soon as I walked through the double electric doors. But I was on a mission. My fear of craft was not going to defeat me like it had so many times before. Like the time I spent a whole year of high school sewing classes trying to create a simple A-line skirt. Try as I might, and despite the best efforts of an outstandingly patient and talented seamstress who was my sewing teacher, I just couldn’t finish that skirt. That honour went to a dressmaker neighbour who whipped up that little floral A-line number in a flash.

Anyway, back to the craft store. I’d been in this store before and I knew which corner to make a beeline for if I was to win the craft stakes. It’s the corner right down the back where there’s polystyrene in all shapes and sizes and paint in all its different guises. Polystyrene and paint – my fallback position for school craft projects (although a colleague has suggested if all else fails, dip the whole thing in glitter glue, what a brilliant idea!).

So, I quickly armed myself with polystyrene and paint and got out before I started lingering and had even the slightest inclination that I could seriously take up craft as a hobby. Don’t get me wrong, I can see why the crafty ones amongst us can spend hours in Spotlight finding everything they’ll ever need to satisfy their every craft whim.  Just not me.

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I’m the one who books Granny on a flight from interstate at the very first mention of an upcoming school craft project. She’s the crafty one I’ve called on every time the annual Easter bonnet parade has rolled around at school. Not satisfied with a standard hat adorned with fluffy chickens and polystyrene Easter eggs, my dear boy’s requests have always tended to be off the wall. Like his request for a volcano Easter bonnet complete with spewing lava (I drew the line at actual fire and smoke). Granny, help! I soon discovered orange and red cellophane paper crunched up and stuck on to a pointy hat with the top cut out to make a volcano rim looks remarkably like molten spewing lava. My little man was delighted. Secretly though, thank goodness he’s now past the point of the annual Easter bonnet parade.

And what of his latest craft project for school? He did it all himself this time and the polystyrene and paint worked a treat in creating a replica stone tablet from an era when there was too much hunting and gathering going on to be bothered with craft projects.

Call me a cynic but never call me crafty. It’s a reality I’ve come to terms with as I package up a few clothing repair jobs to mail off to Granny and her trusty sewing machine.

Would you agree that not everyone is crafty? You won’t convince me to try and turn my craft deficiency around but it might make me feel better about my own inadequacies in the craft department.