Saint Peters Academy, My Fathers Private Boarding School for Boys.

Saint Peters Academy. 22.

As Saint Peters is an all boys school there was never enough demand to add a sewing class to the curriculum. As result of this I was being force to take this elected subject via correspondence, with my mother as a teacher. Two things we wrong with this. One My mother was in no way capable of being a teacher of any variety and two, My mother can't sew. At all. In any way shape or form.

So every day for one hour a day I was to head out the back door of the school, make my way across the perfectly maintained rose gardens out back and hang with my mother in the headmaster house. Yay.

It just so happened that my sewing elective was in the place of first hour Monday. So as I made my way across the frosty wide lawn I prayed that these lessons with my mother wouldn't be to terribly horrible. Knocking on the front door I waited to hear the approach of my mother. The door suddenly swung out in front of me and a familiar pair of eccentric arms wrapped around my shoulders.
"Oh honey, Your going to love our class room. A whole room just for sewing. Just like those ones you used to draw when you were little. Aren't you excited. Oh I am."
"Very ," Sarcasm drooled off the single spoken word obliviously to my mother. "I don't see why we can't just have had the lesson in the school building?"
"Oh because this will just be so much more fun. Just you and me. Hanging out. Sewing. Oh I can't wait."

Following my mother through a maze of halls and doors I emerged into a large brightly lit room. I was suddenly over whelmed. On the northern wall, hung roll after roll of brightly colored fabrics. Chiffon, Silks, laces and anything else imaginable. Opposite the wall was built up of shelf upon shelf of beads, sequins, lace trims, and threads. Anything I could want to finish off a garment. Directly bellow the huge wall size window overlooking the school and rose gardens sat a sparkling new sewing machine and over locker. It was everything I had ever wanted for a sewing room and more. Maybe sewing class wouldn't be so bad.

"Okay, I admit. This is amazing mum. I love it." The walls were coated in a natural champagne color with red and black painting of old family and friends on the wall with the door.
"I knew you would. Oh, and I have one more surprise for you. You get to design and make your uniform. I have some of the schools tartan here, and some black, some white silky stuff. I don't know what you want to do but I'll leave you to it. I'm making brownies."
"Oh, gosh mum. Thanks. Uh save me some."
"Always dear."

She closed the door gently behind her as she exited the room. Making my way to the sketch table in the center of the room I ran my fingers over the fabrics laid out before me. Inspiration struck instantly. Reaching for a pencil I began to sketch out my ideas.

Less than and hour later I was rushing back toward the school uniform in hand. As the schools colors were black white and red I had decided on a simple black and white outfit with vibrant red accessory’s. Reaching my room I slipped into my new uniform and admired it in the mirror.

The high waisted black skirt clung perfectly to what little curves I had enhancing them more so. The longer knee length helped to enhance my height. The black making me look slimmer still. Soft, see-through light black stockings clung to my legs removing any appearance of chubbiness. Red satin open toe stilettos helped enhance my height again. The Baggy white silk top tucked into my high waist skirt and satin red belt hung loosely from my shoulders under a tight black cotton cardigan I had sitting in my closet from three years ago. Adding the bright red satin bow to my hair I couldn't help but feel that there was something missing. Gazing over my might stand my eyes rested on the black round plastic bead, double strand necklace with a generous black bow on it. Perfect. I was almost a shame I would have to change into my Phys ed uniform next.