To cap off last night: the sinking sickening feeling of knowing one of my fabrics really and truly wasn't working in my quilt pattern. Jacob helpfully pointed out last night that this is the risk of doing everything myself: you get to take the credit for everything that goes right, but you have to take the blame for everything that goes wrong, too.

I took the painfully mismatched block to my local fabric shop at lunch today, hoping for a double pink to salvage the day. Nope. None. So I called the shop I'd ordered from, originally, and had a rockin' awesome customer service experience.

Essentially:

• What's your name?
• Ah, here's your order from before. Two double pinks. What was wrong?
• Didn't work well together? Okay. Do you want a fabric that bridges the gap between them, or do you want to split these fabrics into two separate projects?
• Okay. Two projects. Tell me what you need for the first project.  Double pink, either lighter or darker, half-yard. Got it.
• Second project needs something like a double blue or a double violet, and you need a yard. Got it.
• I'll pull your original fabrics and find fabrics that match well with them.
• Why yes, we do have scrap bags. Do you have a preference on time period? No? Then I'll dish you up something interesting.

Margo, owner of reproductionfabrics.com? I am your newest fan. I can't wait to see what you send.

What went wrong?

Answer: The two double pinks I ordered have different tones. One is a bright, summery, flowery pink -- quite intense. The other is a muted cinnamon color. The cinnamon color, by itself, is gorgeous and feminine, but it gets shouted down when combined with the brighter pink and stark white. It needs a more demure, shy color to be friends with; a more muted companion color will let this fabric be soft and feminine instead of looking drab by comparison.

I'll sub a punchier pink into Lucy-Goosey and save the softer colors to be paired together in another quilt.

...and I'll definitely order from Margo again. :)