The weavers brought together space and time. The new fabric was dull even as great waves billowed across its surface.
But there was no-one else to see.
Fabric is bland on its own. It has little, or no, purpose. Rippling in the vast emptiness of the Universe, it needed something else. Something to give form, and order.
And so the tailors came into being. Artisans of the scissor, the thread, the needle. They pinched with gravity. They spun great swirls of space-time, compressed the gas, poked holes.
Soon the fabric shone with countless stars, and worlds undreamed of.