Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

I could lie and tell you in light of the impending Crown Jewel of Hallmark Holidays I replenished my lingerie drawer.  I could.  Yet, like a bad penny that always comes back, I'm too damned honest.  I've been home a whopping three weeks (shocker, I know . . . hold your gasps, it won't be for much longer), and in that time an impressive list of to-dos has been done and an even more surmounting of stitching has been done.   Last year, about to the day, I posted the first (of a few  (or this one  too)) diatribe on bra making.  Then, there was the one post where my Mom and Dad (who apparently read things their daughter writes--who knew!) found out about my newest tattoos.  Yea, that sports bra  and top is like a feat of gravity in and of its own . . . though, the final frontier is a strapless.  I heard a rumor of one being released this year, and let's just say if that happens I'm all about that.  No lie.   Anywho . . . L...

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved fall, blazers, jeans, and boots. Yea, me.  Blazer, boots . . . skirts and jeans.  All fall, winter, and spring long.  Fall especially  as they stun afainst the blissful fiery backdrop . . . also known as the ghetto end of my block. Along came my pattern stash and some leftover wool from that failed coat of last year.  Fail, you say? Eh, look at the overly puffy sleeves that cave in? And fail, for sure, as I tried her one and OMG just put me in a bonnet, give me a wicker basket, and off to the prairie I go.  Last year she fit.  This year she's atrocious and big. McCalls 5188 came on que.  I plotted this one, using my tailoring guide, making notes . . . I drafted the muslin. Here I need to note that a muslin is a piece you make to find the fit.  Muslin are not clothes you wear, unless you make them from clothing fabric as a "wearable muslin." I usual...

So, I'm the type of gal to wear pearls with blue jeans.  Yes, that is true.  Really, if you've read anything on here then it shouldn't be a shock.  Thus, my saying I made a Jackie O style coat . . . well, before you raise your eyebrow and say "Hey, that ain't what you normally wear," remember the pearls and jeans.   Thus, I made a Jackie O.  And I wore it with jeans.  Faded, should be retired, jeans.  And Converse kicks.  And a wool knit tee.   Yea. I redefine classy.   That was me on an Instagram shot.  Snazzy, I know.   I mean, look at that . . . isn't she a beauty? That coat, fits like a dream.  Of course, I wore it open all day as it was almost too warm for it . . . but it being NYC and fall, well . . . yea, coat one minute, the next half naked.  Repeat all day.   My hair decided to go '90s retro and pretend my grunge days of Nirvana love were in town.  Ignore the unruly man...

As a girl, as many (most?) have in the Western World, I read Anne of Green Gables  with great flourish and glee.  The entire series, given to me for a birthday I think by my grandparents, was read more than once.  I remember some snotty little shits mocking me for it.  Yea, last I heard they didn't make it very far in life anyway . . . they've never been farther than Florida, think that sinners live in NYC, and the world ends past England and France.  Odd, I know . . . as the prefab furniture I bet they pour into their homes comes from IKEA, out of Sweden, and to them that country would be A) some foreign land and B) not worthy.  Yea, conservative memories of the Midwestern tween and early teen years still have dark strains.   C'est la vie.   As those reads of Anne Shirley went, back then I doubt I really grasped the nature and geographic locale of PEI.  Though, in the late dirty 30s I certainly do.  I was ...