Yeah, I'm still in all-out heart mode. The confluence of actual heart-related stuff + Valentine's Day has made it impossible not to be, you know?
But before I show you the latest projects, I wanted to think a little bit about color. I've been doing a lot with black and grey lately. Well, a *lot* for me, since those aren't usually colors I even think about. I've always liked that sort of heathered grey, the one that's the color of old t-shirts and athletic sweats, the kind the kids wore when The EGE was coaching. That color has always seemed athletic and energetic and healthy to me, a sturdy color that can hold its own and be dressed up or down. Black, on the other hand, is a problematic color of me because of one thing: fur. Cat fur gets on everything, of course, no matter what color. But nothing shows it off so stunningly as black: a cat (any color other than black) + a black garment of any kind = instant bag lady costume. You look like you've been sleeping in the back seat of your car and wearing the same clothing since the Reagan administration. I know this because I've gone there--most recently with the fabulous asymmetrical Cynthia Ashby dress, part linen, part cotton, all black. I washed and dried it, rolled it with one of those sticky garment rollers, put it on and left the house (no, I did NOT sit down anywhere before I left) and got wherever I was going and looked down at myself and omigod: I looked like I'd rolled in a pile of lint and cat fur. Even drying it with an extra dryer sheet did no good--it wasn't static; it was just a bit of texture to the fabric that made it grab and cling to everything that came near it. I loved that dress, but it's going back to be resold. I washed it and rolled it one last time and folded it up lovingly and packed it in the bin.
And whimpered just a tiny bit.
But there're also a couple linen apron/jumper-ish things, also Cynthia Ashby, one in black and one in grey, that I love. They're 100% linen and not at all sticky, and I'd love to be able to figure out the difference. I got to thinking about all the ways these could be embellished, given their blank-slate-y lack of color, and then I found some black linen on sale locally, and some grey, and, well--that's what's going on: I'm playing with black and grey linen. Whenever I wear anything that's not one of my usual colors, people comment, as if there's something wrong. It's funny about color: people come to associate you with the colors you wear most, whether those are taupes and beiges or pinks and purples. The kids at school think The EGE always wears pink, even though pink is just one of the colors he wears (I think purple is probably the one he has the most of). People think I wear mostly orange, although I don't think that's the case. And then, I think, we get comfortable in those colors and kind of settle in, sticking with the same ones because they're familiar and because that's what other people expect us to wear--they think you always wear black or always wear jeans or whatever, and so why not?
Also, for me, certain colors fit in certain seasons. Oranges get rustier in the autumn, and greens get more avocado. Then, as it moves into winter, the rusty oranges become rusty reds, then darker reds, and the greens go from lighter avocado to darker. At the end of the year, the reds get redder, and in January I think of red and black, starting with New Year's Eve, which seems to me like a totally red-and-black holiday. Then, moving into February, the black gives way to pink: red and pink. Then, on into spring, the red goes away, and purple joins the pink, and then green: green and pink or pink and purple are totally spring colors, never mind that they're bright (no pastels!). Then, in May, there's a lot of bright yellow, and as it gets hotter, there's orange, and then red, getting fierier and brighter into September, when they start to mute and move into autumn.
That's how I think of seasonal colors. I don't consciously say, "Oh, now it's spring: time for purple." It will just be that, one day, the windows are open and that distinctive odor of spring comes in, and I find myself looking at a piece of purple fabric, thinking, "Hmmmmm."
Back to the latest projects. I've pretty much given up buying things for my husband. The only things he wants are camera things, and I have no idea what to get--he's at the point where it's pretty specific. And we long ago passed the stage of buying gifts just because it's A Gift-Giving Holiday. I'm not one of those women who expects to be given diamonds, for instance. (We were with some people we know right after Christmas, people roughly our age, and the women were showing their new rings, big honkin' diamond rings, and I was thinking, "Wow. That's a whole new set of windows installed right there.")
So I'm making him t-shirts--you've seen those--and I made him one for Valentine's Day. I didn't get a photo of it because I finished it at midnight and he wore it to school the next morning, so it's wrinkled. But I used the left-over parts and made one for me, too, so we can be Twinkies:
Then I very, very carefully cut out all the pieces. I hate having to be so careful and cut exactly on the lines, but in this case, it was important that the pieces of the two hearts be identical so they'd fit together. I thought about cheating and leaving one heart solid and then placing the other pieces on top, but that would defeat the whole stitching-two-hearts-together idea I had.
And here's the newest Jumpron, Healing:
I like the sign I saw on, I think, Pinterest, with a swastika, which has an ancient history most people know nothing about (I think it was on the label for some cleaning product) and the note: "Damn the Nazis; this has been our brand since 1917." I wouldn't want to use an offensive symbol, never mind what it might mean to me personally, because some things stir up painful memories in other people. But for everything else? I love figuring out what things mean to me and how I can use them on garments to give them meaning.
Thanks for coming by. I'm going to try to do a post about a book I read and really enjoyed--I'm telling you that so I'll be sure to come back and do it.