Although I like to think of myself as a crafty gal, the truth of the matter is that I can only accomplish the most simple and straightforward tasks in the realm of traditional craftiness. I’ve long envied those ladies who can sew their own clothes, embroider, knit—I’d settle for the ability to hem my own pants, even. While I’ve learned to crochet and have pumped out many an unwanted Christmas scarf, to say that I have any talent in this field would be a gross exaggeration. Much to my despair, crafts and I just do not get along.

I think it has something to do with my lifelong fear of math—sewing and its cousins are precise arts for which measurements must be made. Even counting stitches in crochet was sometimes difficult for me, and my scarves turned out more like double helixes than the smooth, untwisted panels that my friends were able to make. But the permanence and solidity of craft is also intimidating. There’s no fudging in craft, no blurring the line. Either your scarf is twenty stitches across or it’s not. Either the seam of your skirt is twenty-eight inches or not. That table you’re building—it needs four legs and they each have to be exactly the same height or it’ll totter. There’s no fucking around with craft.

A couple of weekends ago, I caught the crafting bug again. Inspired by Loobylu’s Month of Softies project, I set out to create a softie of my own. Though the month’s call for entries had already closed, I liked the theme (Vintage Catwalk) and decided to give it a shot.

I drew a kitty pattern on a piece of notebook paper and traced it, backwards, onto the inside of a vintage skirt that no longer fit me. For Kitty’s front, I used the woolen outer layer, and for his back I used the awesome, striped lining. I cut his shape out from the cloth, and embroidered (sort of—I never really learned) two beady eyes and a grumpy mouth onto his face. Then, I flipped him inside out and sewed up his sides. Once he’d become a little shell of a kitty, I brought him to my local bar, ordered a Seven & Seven, and took to the task of stuffing his insides with cotton balls while my friends looked on in disbelief. I didn’t have the proper-colored thread to finish him off, so he’s got a little scar running down his left leg where I finally sewed him closed.

While Kitty isn’t the most glorious softie ever to grace the earth, he’s pretty cute and, if you don’t mind me saying, pretty decent for a first try. Precision be damned, I’ve somehow gotten crafty.