I just spent the entire afternoon helping my older brother figure out how to make a Russel (“Up”, Pixar) costume for a gigantic easter egg.
He didn’t come with zero effort on his own, so “Eggy” (as we ended up calling him) initially looked like this:
He needed limbs! And what better way to grow an egg some arms and legs but to amputate someone. Unfortunately, the sentence was given to one of our furry dog stuffed toys. Thus, the hairiness.
Now, basically what my older brother needed–demanded–from me was that I make a pattern for the clothes since I’m “creative”.
Dude, lemme tell ya. Creativity has nothing to do with sewing. It’s all about skills and giving enough attention to your economics teacher in grade school. Pssh.
Well, I got creative alright.
So lo and behold! After four fucking hours of figuring out what life was about when you’re stuck in a deal you agreed for pizza and ice cream, you get creative to survive. To be fair, we were able to produce the patterns and prototype costumes he would present to his members tomorrow and they look decent, mind you.
In the end, here’s folk dancer, Eggy!
The picture couldn’t do justice to have us a peek of his skinny jeans my brother made with his big, rough hands. And yeah, a trip to a waxing salon would help heaps in the grooming angle.
Though I was reserving the afternoon to writing and organizing my media files, I was actually happy my brother sought my help. We never bonded over projects when we were kids in the same house. I also missed that living room bonding moments of him with mom and I.