Continued from Saturday
5.

Meanwhile, I was having issues with custom made dresses.
Whenever we visit the tailor, this is the kind of conversation that goes on-
Mum: what's her bust measurement?
Tailor: 23
Mum: waist nko
Tailor: 20
Mum: hip?
Tailor: 25
Me: Chai! I am figure 8�
Mum eyeing me
Mum: don't mind her she doesn't eat, help us add plenty ease so that she will look big
Me:�
In my mind: One day I will grow up and leave your house�....

Different versions of this scenario used to play out anytime we needed to make custom made dresses when I met a friend in final year , we were at the fellowship when she passed by and someone called her "dodondawa"
I was told that's her nickname, the person told me about her sewing prowess,somehow sha I found a way to meet her in her house and I was impressed and challenged!
Her room was her workshop, she used to make shirts, I tripped for her, the desire to learn sewing came back in double fold that day but we were already graduating�, it pained me, I called her after we all left school but her location was soooo far from mine�
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