Ibumped into a fellow seamstress friend at a local bargain haunt recently. She was looking through some mens athleticwear when we took a few minutes to catch up. Her big news was that her sedentary middle-aged husband had taken up yoga—"the hot kind," she explained. "Ah yes, Bikram," I replied. I pointed to the shorts in her cart and asked why she didn't just whip him up a pair from her voluminous fabric stash. She said it wasn't worth the bother because she knew he wouldn't wear what she'd make. Her comment gave me a dejavu moment, and I chuckled to myself. She looked at me curiously.
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