What I Bought at The Quilt Show. And--More Important--What I Didn't Buy

I'm totally proud of myself this year because everything I bought fit into this little bag:

with room to spare. Yes! I could have bought a LOT more, but I didn't. It wasn't so much that I was trying to keep from buying stuff (although that is certainly a factor, as you know from my whinging about How Much Stuff Is In This House) as that I didn't find much I wanted. Sadly, the selection of artwear wasn't what it was last year, when I bought both a coat and a jacket (the latter now embellished and given to a new home) and several hats; and the bead vendors? Only one, and they had very, very few seed beads.

Now, if you've been to the Quilt Show, perhaps you've succumbed, as I have in the past, to the Miraculous Invention Purchase. You know, where you're cruising down one of the aisles and stumble into a crowd of people, seemingly awestruck, watching someone demo some fabulous new product that will not only change your work day in your studio but change your actual LIFE, making your teeth whiter and your nether regions more perfume-y. Plus lower your cholesterol and pay off your student loans!

Now, granted, some of these are just Temporarily Cool Things. Novelty Demos, if you will, like the ironing board cover my friend Keith bought one year: it featured the image of a scantily-clad guy in a cheesecake pose and then, when you ironed over it with a hot iron, his clothes vanished. Yowza. You can imagine how much a hit that was with The Quilting Crowd, male and female alike. (No, I didn't buy one. I can sometimes convince the actual flesh-and-blood human in this house to do the same thing without having to assault him with a hot iron.)

But those aren't what I'm talking about. Nope. I'm talking about the things that seem so miraculous that you stand there, watching the demo, and wonder how you've managed to live this long without this thing.

This never-ending lint roller, for instance (and I'll bet I'm not the only one one of us who's got one of these in the closet. Am I right?):

Yeah, I bought it. We bought the whole set, in fact, including the Bonus Travel Roller, because, well: in this house, we use kind of a lot of lint roller refills. Or, rather, I do. The EGE uses them pretty much only on his hats and his dress slacks, on the rare occasions he pulls those out of the closet. I use them on everything so I won't sew cat fur into the stitches.  So we bought these babies and brought them home and then quickly realized that, while the dip-it-in-water-and-keep-going promise is quite fantastic, in practice, it's another matter entirely. You roll the roller over the cat-furry surface. Just once! It's full! Then you go wash it off. Shake off the water. Blot it dry. Roll again. Just once! It's full again! Go wash it off. Shake off the water. Blot it dry.

Repeat. Ad nauseum.

I used one of the rollers one time. Once. That's all. This one hasn't been used at all--see the shiny plastic protector still on it? I think it's for curtains. We don't have curtains. How come? We. Have. Cats.

Duh.

Or what about this? I think I bought this at the quilt show, but maybe not. I know I bought Bonash there, and it's the same thing: a miracle fabric adhesive that holds things in place and makes your life all easy and sparkly. Not unlike a holiday (movie reference, anyone?).  In the demo, it was fabulous. In real life? Not so much "fabulous" as "Messier Than a Leaky Burrito."

Or maybe this, from another year: a Fabric Glitter System, complete with glue. Oh, look: yummy bright colors! Sparkliness! Happy, happy, joy, joy! Fabulous glitter designs on my jeans!

(No glue to show; I threw it away in a fit of pique.)

Right. Until the first wash, and then all the glitter came off and vanished down the drain. But not--oh, no, NOT--the glue, which stayed on the jeans in an ugly grey line forEVER. It's still there, through dozens of laundry cycles.

The jacket I gave away. The hats I loved but have never worn except once:

Over the years, I've gotten better. I've resisted a double-sided, lap-stand embroidery hoop, a fabulous set of fabric markers, dye-able lace (complete with dye in a cute little set). Jewelry. Shoes. Foot massagers. A long-arm quilting machine (that one was easy, since I don't quilt. It really was super spiffy, though!)

This year I did really well, as I said. See?

I bought $30 worth of felted wool, for appliques (she assured me it's ready to go, but it seems a little loose to me; I think it needs to be washed in reallyreallyreally hot water one more time):

From The Wooly Lady

And $30 worth (yes; don't cringe) of "vintage" buttons (for the yoolies, of course):

with two glass buttons added as a gift:

from the fabulous woman at Dusty's Vintage

$21 for beads (the only colors I 1) liked and 2) didn't already have)

(no link because I wasn't particularly impressed with either them or their selection.)

and, in San Antonio, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper, both said to be Reallyreallyreally Good:

Dang it. Blogger ate the rest of the post. I went back to add the photos, and it just sucked it up and ATE it. Gee, thanks a lot, Blogger. Of course I have completely lost my train of thought, and while the rest of the post was surely both fascinating and hilarious, it is lost to all of us now. Some days, I swear. . . .