I thought the hardest part of sewing wedding dresses was dealing with tulle explosions and last-minute panic fittings. Turns out, the real nightmare is when the bride is your best friend, and everything else that could go wrong from there does.
My name is Claire, and this whole mess started with a wedding dress.
I’m 31, American, and I sew for a living.
Not in a fun, Pinterest-hobby way either.
I work full-time in a bridal salon, then come home and sew more for private clients until my eyes blur and my back screams. It’s not glamorous, but it keeps the lights on and my mom’s prescriptions filled.
My dad died years ago, and it’s been just the two of us since.
Mom’s not in great health, so a lot of my paycheck disappears into co-pays and pills with names I can’t pronounce.
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