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Upon buying the sewing machine, I picked up some books and then found a tiny shop on 23rd street where a lovely woman sold me some fabric. She couldn’t believe I was teaching myself to sew (a theme which pervades this story); and when I told her I had only just bought the machine, she gently advised that it was important I know that you sew things inside out and then turn them right side out when you are finished so the seams don’t show.
That was the extent of my sewing lessons. The rest of my learning came from books and hands-on experience. Quite soon, I made the shocking discovery that I not only loved sewing, but that I was also quite good at it. I was having so much fun; I would go entire evenings without ever even looking at my email!
My friends’ reactions would have been great for YouTube. I’m not sure if they were all more shocked by the fact that I had taken up sewing and made the placemats myself, or the fact that my office, the living room, dining room, and kitchen looked like an explosion in a sweatshop!
With a lifetime supply of placemats now on hand, a friend suggested I try to make him some drawstring pants. He wanted something fun and playful that he could wear to walk the dog, hang out around the house, and sleep in. He also tossed in a request for a "rocket ships" print. So I bought a pattern and began the search for "rocket ship" fabric. About a week later, I proudly showed him his pants. But when I turned them right side out, I discovered that the legs were about 14" long and the body about 30". (Remember the unique trajectory of my model rockets?) With his help, I took the pants apart and remade them, and "Voila!" The first pair of "Pookies" was born.
All of a sudden, I was on a roll. I started making Pookies in all kinds of printsfor everyone else I knew. Each pair got a little better (though that’s not to say perfect). Steadily, my skill improved, my stress level went down, and my email went un-read...
Then, while aboard a plane on April 19, 2007, I read an article in the New York Times about a man who had opened a store in Portland Oregon that sold only "novelty" men’s underwear: flashy brands such as Ginch-Gonch and Aussie Bum. Now, admittedly, I lack that fashion gene that gay men are supposed to have, so while I knew intellectually what "novelty underwear" was, it didn’t have a lot of relevance to me. What I did note, however, was that in emphasizing the success of the store, the reporter had written, "... this store is on Main Street, USA, not Gay Street, USA."
So after 30 years, a bunch of companies, and some reasonable success, now comes an Epiphany! As the song says, "who could ask for anything more?" Why hadn’t anyone done for sleepwear what these brands, starting way back with Calvin Klein, had done for underwear? Why had I needed to make my friend his Pookies? He isn't the only guy who wears drawstring pants to watch TV, walk the dog, and sleep in. It seemed to me that the "pair of pajamas" you could buy today hadn't changed in 40 years. They weren’t any fun and certainly didn't have "rocket ships" on them. I also recalled how many times I had searched for a robe only to find "bath robes" made from heavy, uncomfortable terry cloth, or the plaid one-size-fits-none kind which I call "I’m sick robes."
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