I might have a Thurlow problem, but . . .
I just realized I haven't posted in three weeks . . . well, crap. I'm sorry. In all fairness, I got back from Kentucky and less than a week later I went to see my Momma. A week in Virginia, with her and her Bernina and a serger. Okay, I'm not really that sorry. I sewed a Briar, two pair of Thurlows, repaired one pair, hemmed pants for my sister (on her Bernina), and . . . that doesn't even include a couple of things I made BEFORE I went. Like two Briar's and a pair of Thurlows.
Of course, there were final book edits, article edits, chaos with academia, and life itself. Oh, and Lupus. Yea, the rash has been out (and growing for awhile), and I spent a few days laid out with pain, exhaustion, and did I say exhaustion? Anywho, after twenty plus years I have come to a few resolutions with that bitch known as Lupus. A) she can still piss the fuck off and B) the rash is what it is. I might subdue it, but I'm done spending far too many minutes attempting to cover it while my face breathes flames of fire ants. Also, should you need reminding one of the rules: Don't point that shit out. There is no need.
Here's a quick rundown of some of the photos . . .
Me, last week after coming back from VA. It rained on us. But,you get to see my plaid Thurlows and white Briar.
Here's a blurry one of my sister and me, in Fayetteville (or Vietnam, as some locals call it). That's my Briar and my first pair of Thurlow shorts. Next to miss size six, or is it four, I look so damned large. Humpf.
Her pants I cuffed on her machine.
I call them my fish scale shorts. And . . . if you were following on Instagram, you saw that I decided to size down since my first pair is a little loose at times. Well, on non-stretch fabric . . . don't do that. Yup. So, I ripped the butt out and added about a quarter of an inch the morning of my flight. They are sweet now.
The first Briar, from a dress that I stained. I cut it up and sewed a shirt to only wear the shirt twice before I stained it. Yay me. I have no idea what that weird shadow on my forehead is . . . a fallen halo?
When I made this one, I learned a few things. On the black one, which I did first, my machine went wonky on the top stitch. So . . . go slow and use a stretch needle verses a knit needle. Then . . . then I decided to a double needle. Okay, that's no biggie, but there is a reason that Singer manual says it strongly suggests you use a Singer needle. For any other stitch just about any brand of needle is fine. Why the Singer? Um, the post is shorter so that when you stitch you won't--ya know--pull the screws holding your bobbin in place with a jammed needle. Yes, yes, I did. Was something to see, I must say. So, Singer double needles. I have some now. ;)
Some loot I got at the thrift store. I love wooden hangers . . . and vintage thread, I have a thing for the wooden spools. At some point I'll craft something from them, but until then I have to ponder. And yes, I use the thread. Some is for hand sewing, most for the machine.
There was a Cascade skirt too. My machine near ate my head off for that sheer knit. But, Lucinda and I had a conversation, and she decided to let me sew this if A) I went slow and B) I used scraps to make a lining long enough to cover my rump. The purple belt: I bought it last year this time, and now . . . .whooo weee, look at me shrinking out my belts. I still need to see my cobbler, to punch a new hole in that.
And the high-low hem of Megan Neilsen . . .divine. I love the three patterns of hers I have done: the Kelly, the Briar, and this one.
Ripple, also known as Pigpen. Why I make the bed, I do not know. She decided that she would take the bed since we were watching television. Apparently the window fan was more exciting than whatever crap we had on.
Of course, there were final book edits, article edits, chaos with academia, and life itself. Oh, and Lupus. Yea, the rash has been out (and growing for awhile), and I spent a few days laid out with pain, exhaustion, and did I say exhaustion? Anywho, after twenty plus years I have come to a few resolutions with that bitch known as Lupus. A) she can still piss the fuck off and B) the rash is what it is. I might subdue it, but I'm done spending far too many minutes attempting to cover it while my face breathes flames of fire ants. Also, should you need reminding one of the rules: Don't point that shit out. There is no need.
Here's a quick rundown of some of the photos . . .
Me, last week after coming back from VA. It rained on us. But,you get to see my plaid Thurlows and white Briar.
I also came home to a ghetto style carnival.
Though Ferris Wheels are always fun.
What the hell is this?!
Her pants I cuffed on her machine.
I can't find a photo of me wearing my purple plaids, but . . . let's just say I wear them at least twice a week.
Look at those welt pockets? Yup. On my Momma's sewing table, at the time. And while out and about last week, no less than four people wanted to know where I got them. One, a complete stranger, called me a liar. Flat out said, "What is your problem? You don't have to lie to impress me. Just tell me where you got them?" Well, little miss snot, I got them from my sewing machine!
What I did for about two hours while in transit to Virginia. The left from of a cardi. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking making a sweater with sock weight? Shit. The back is done.
The Thurlows I made the day before I flew, and the black Briar I did that day too. FYI, my bedroom walls are not pink, but the damned lighting refuses to cooperate.
I call them my fish scale shorts. And . . . if you were following on Instagram, you saw that I decided to size down since my first pair is a little loose at times. Well, on non-stretch fabric . . . don't do that. Yup. So, I ripped the butt out and added about a quarter of an inch the morning of my flight. They are sweet now.
When I made this one, I learned a few things. On the black one, which I did first, my machine went wonky on the top stitch. So . . . go slow and use a stretch needle verses a knit needle. Then . . . then I decided to a double needle. Okay, that's no biggie, but there is a reason that Singer manual says it strongly suggests you use a Singer needle. For any other stitch just about any brand of needle is fine. Why the Singer? Um, the post is shorter so that when you stitch you won't--ya know--pull the screws holding your bobbin in place with a jammed needle. Yes, yes, I did. Was something to see, I must say. So, Singer double needles. I have some now. ;)
A Wiksten tank, in a Spanish tile voile. I have another one of these, that you saw at some point in Me Made May from Anna Maria Horner rayon, and I must saw that I wear them a lot. Untucked or tucked, they are like a perfect throw on top for summer. Though, I should say that I alter it a bit. Sized down and folded the armholes verses the binding. Snazzy. Yes, yes, I am. I love this photo for the romance of it. Look close and you can see my purple suitcase. I was packing, or unpacking.
It is summer, and berries and fruit are back at the Farmer's Market! Jealous of my food porn? That my homemade poppy seed dressing. Good shit.
A few days after getting back from Kentucky, and right before Virginia, we went to Citifield Shittyfield to see the Cubs beat the Mets. I'm a Yanks fan, but my Dad's family all love the Cubs. Sometimes I get nostalgic. My Momma hates this photo. Oops.
A view of Shittyfield.
I told you it is summer. Just wait until grapes are in season. I will eat my weight in those.
Oh, just in case you were wondering. The second pair of Thurlows, intended to be porn shorts number two . . . yea, big fat failure. I gnashed a huge hole in the ass, so bye bye they went. Tragic.
And the high-low hem of Megan Neilsen . . .divine. I love the three patterns of hers I have done: the Kelly, the Briar, and this one.
Some gratuitous shots of the mutt.
Ripple, the wonder dog has taken to sitting in chairs and watching me work in the office. FYI, the walls ARE that green. Mr. Fairytale picked it (as he picked the shades of purple in the boudoir . . . we had agreed on purple). He even says it is a bit bright. They are mostly covered in bookshelves, so . . .
Ripple, also known as Pigpen. Why I make the bed, I do not know. She decided that she would take the bed since we were watching television. Apparently the window fan was more exciting than whatever crap we had on.
Now that I have horrified you with photos galore, I'll go back to that article. In the meantime, I'm putting the Thurlow pattern on the shelf . . . just until fall. Four pairs of shorts is good for one summer. I have a list of things to make, one being a swimsuit. I didn't sew last week, and it is KILLING ME. So, come hell or high water, I am sewing this weekend. One bathing suit called the Bombshell, one grey Briar, and if I have the time I'm taking the Wiksten pattern on a hijack road to make a maxi dress, of knit, with some sheering. I have a vision.
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