“I did actually mean leotard. I did not mean leopard.”
A few months ago, I ventured into a thrift shop and bought a shirt because I loved the sheer wackiness of it. This used to be a man’s shirt. This man was not a small man. I imagine this man is named Mortimer. Mortimer I hope found good things after this shirt.
The skirt wasn’t too hard to make. I got my basic guidance here.
Though, due to those lumpy bits that seem like they should have their own specific name, I had to make adjustments.
The above is what this skirt would look like in real outfit form.
I collect things. I don’t mean to do it, but I have all of these ideas and grand intentions. Those intentions need supplies, right?
I reorganized some things around the apartment and came across some fabric that I have owned for years. How many years? I have no idea. I know that I have moved the fabric more than once and that I always had such great intentions for it.
I also had on hand the Simplicity 3858 pattern. After looking at a bunch of people’s versions of this, (among other things) I decided that I was going to make my own. I had the time, the fabric, the pattern, the thread and (so I thought) the notions. I made a muslin yesterday, knowing that I always need to make adjustments. (I added to the bust, and hip and took it in at the waist.)
So, this morning I cut out 2 shirts and made them assembly line style. And now there are two new shirts in my closet! Gotta love a long weekend!
You sort of make me feel like a trollop or hussy.
Don’t give me that innocent look. I performed my measurements very carefully; I took honest measurements. Then, I began my plans to sew.
But there was something in the back of my head that told me I should check the finished measurements of the garment. Sure enough, I discovered that there was way more ease that I am used to. So, I made the shirt two sizes smaller than the one my measurements called for.
And this top, which, despite it’s somewhat homely color, was supposed to be summery and flirty. It is downright loose. Or is it, Simplicity? Are you telling me that I just wear my clothes too tight? Are you calling me a tart? A slattern?
I will have to rely on my standard tactic, adding a belt, in order to wear this shirt. Maybe we can reach a compromise.
Anyway, I made this dress from the Built by Wendy book about dresses. This is the dirndl dress. I followed her recommendations to get a dress that fits well. I love the way this dress fits. I feel so free in it. I feel like I have seen some sort of garment light. In this dress, it’s like having all of the unencumbered freedom of nudity without the liabilities that come with that most natural state.
I am looking forward to trying the other patterns in the book.
The fabric has been hanging about in my life since before Alex was around. I think I got this from the The Scrap Box for like 2 dollars.
This scarf was born from a t-shirt so large that it didn’t fully fit on my 18X 24 inch cutting board. And yes, I did have the shirt spread across the long side.
I love orange though, and this was the reason I could never bear to part with this shirt. But now it is a scarf and I fantasize about wearing it through the fall subtly suggesting the harvest.
But for a Michigoose who loves the summer, now is not the right time to talk about that other season, so I will stop now so that I can fully enjoy and appreciate my 90 days of goodness.
I was surfing along minding my business when I came across Self-Stitched September. I accepted that sometimes, yes, that I am a joiner and spontaneously signed up to participate in this online event.
I have said that every day in September 2010, I will wear an article of clothing or accessory that I made. I can do this.
I have been meaning to sew more. Actually that was in last year’s goals, but that is one that I didn’t make happen. Maybe this is the push I need.
I already have those scarves. There’s a knit item or two that I have. There’s at least one dress. And then there are three months between now and then.
The shame is that I probably have enough fabric in my possession that I could probably fulfill this challenge without buying anything but notions.
Like everyone else you know, I have accumulated far too many t-shirts in the last few years. In my recent attempts to get myself in order I was forced to acknowledge that I just have too many of them. Seriously, I don’t even store them with my other clothes. Well, not exactly. I keep them with my work out clothes, but I don’t work out in them because I feel like I am going to get tangled up in them. I tend to like my shirts snug. I like to know they’re there. I like shirts that give me a hug. I like hugs. Anyway, Here I am with a bunch of shirts which I never wear. Not even to sleep in. If I try to sleep in these, I really DO get tangled up.
BUT, I am somewhat sentimental about my t-shirts. They’re hard to part with. Even when they still stink when they come out of the washing machine. So, I decided to re-purpose them. And with that, three scarves were born.
I made the first scarf and third scarfs according to a video on youtube, by Megan Nicolay, author of Generation T and its sequel. The second scarf required no sewing and was inspired by another video, which I can’t find right now.
No frogs were harmed in the making of these scarves.
Right outside my apartment building is the drain for the parking lot.
I hadn’t paid much attention to this in the past having moved in the fall and missed spring rain.
Well, let’s just say I am glad that I bought rain boots this year.
Let’s also say that this is a serious amount of water. So much that despite the rain boots, my feet were in pools of water. Not, however, because the rain boots were faulty, but because the water came in over the top. AND, I almost fell in it. Shudder.
Oh, and this isn’t solely about my dislike for being wet unless I’m in the shower. This is about the fact that this standing water came from the very parking lot where the goose play (and poop) and where I’ve seen more than one Colt 45 can and where, this week, I saw a condom wrapper (which I am assuming…well, I have chosen not to think about it, and was really successful until I got all sloshified.)
I felt dirty and immediately took a shower. Then I put the groceries away.
Some folks already know how my skinny jeans saga began.
I had seen all sorts of women rocking these jeans, many more voluptuous than I, and looking good in them. And I thought, “me too! I can wear these jeans!” So I went in pursuit of a pair.
Later, in a dressing room session Alex will surely recount to a therapist one day, I found a pair that I thought worked. I took the jeans to the counter. The cashier suggested that I go down a size, as these jeans (according to her) are known to stretch out. I took her advice despite the fact that she looked like her jeans size doesn’t even involve numbers, which might make her uniquely unqualified to make any suggestions about the fitting needs of women who’s jeans size plainly involves numbers.
Shortly thereafter, I wore the jeans on a date, wondering what he would think of me if it turned out that I had to ask him to remove the jeans, not for recreational purposes, but in order to ensure proper circulation in my lower extremities. Fortunately, this did not come to pass.
I couldn’t decide how I felt about jeans that were so skinny that they had a knack for getting lost in my closet among the less skinny clothing…until this week.
I decided that the jeans could, indeed, be a part of my wardrobe. They would just have to function as tights. They will likely feel more at home in the tights drawer.
Turns out they go great with dresses that function as shirts.