I have learned a lot during the course of all this, in large part about clothes I will actually wear and love as opposed to clothes I feel I should salvage and make fabulous but will never actually, you know, put on my body. I am, in short, learning to say "no" and walk away from clothes I would previously have bought, brought home, and worked on.
I have taken that table down, and the projects on the rack
are minimal. No, I don't have current photos because until this minute didn't think of it. Instead, I have photos I took this weekend of stuff I've finished up in the last week.
First of all, this, which I bought (gasp!) new. On sale, of course, but still: new. Brand, spanking new. The question is why, since it's linen gauze, although not too thin. I do not like gauze, and I don't wear black. But the shape. The shape! I fell in love with it and bought it and brought it home and hung it on the rack and then kept looking at it and going, "What the hell was I thinking?"
Because—and here I'm making a confession that, frankly, makes me sweat, literally—even on sale, it was over $100. I know. I KNOW! Because I don't shop in any traditional sense and because I buy 99% of my clothes (except shoes and underwear) second hand, I can, theoretically, buy something if I fall in love with it. Good for me that I seldom do—maybe once or twice a year. But why I fall for the things I fall for is beyond me. I had this hanging on the rack for months, kind of kicking myself when I passed it. But then I'd try it on again and go, "Oh, yeah, that's why." Because there's just something about the way it drapes. So finally I got out the embroidery floss and fixed it up:
the long-sleeved "play dress" from Dharma Trading—and will wear it over that. Maybe. Or who knows what else? (I have kind of more than one of those dresses, dyed in the colors I like and wear, so mixing it up and trying combinations is way too easy, just like playing dress-up but without the admonitions to stay away from The Good Stuff).
Then there was this silk/rayon velvet coat I got years ago from an estate sale. The label says Carmen Marc Valvo , and I loved the coat because, well: velvet! But it had an issue: the lining hung down just a smidgen below the hem, which made me nuts. In fact, it's why I didn't buy it the day I saw it and why it was probably still there the last day of the sale (50% off, or maybe 75% off) when The Ever-Gorgeous Earl, Man of My Dreams, went back and bought it for me. I think I tossed it in the washing machine, and then it hung around for a couple years because, you know, I didn't want to *ruin* it. And then I smacked myself upside the head and just got in there and fixed it. I started out thinking I'd fix it with subtle black beading, adding a touch of elegance while tacking up the lining. But I realized along the way that that's not me. I don't need a beaded black velvet coat-thing. Frankly, I don't need *anything*, but if I'm going to have something, it has to be something I'll actually wear. I had a skirt and top that had bias-cut raw silk ribbon, and I took that off, ironed it, cut it in half lengthwise, and sewed that around the edge.
Then there was my Thanksgiving Day Experiment, one project from start to finish. I wanted to see if I could make a scarf out of dyed cotton jersey. No pattern, no measuring. I had to piece the purple side—I was trying to use up smaller pieces of fabric.
It's too wide and too long for a regular scarf, but either of us can wear it folded in half. I'm trying to figure out how to make The EGE one in every color without any frou-frou-ness. I think I need to make them single layer and just roll and stitch the edges, but that sounds like not much fun, you know? I could whipstitch them, but I get a little compulsive with whipstitching and start getting the stitches too close together and too tight and then start taking them out and doing them over and AIEEEEEEEE. When you're me, you learn where to go and what neighborhoods you should avoid. Whipstitching is mostly to be avoided, like the neighborhood with the junkies on the corners. Sometimes you need to go through there to get to the library, but if you stick around too long, you'll be getting a bad tattoo of a Tasmanian devil and selling your little sister for crack.
This is your brain on whipstitching. So, so not pretty.