Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

In circa 1974, long before I was conceived  my Mom bought some mauve meets lavender crepe silk.  Well, we think it was '74, as it was before she met and married my Dad (in a whirlwind of 1975), and I came along a year later (so, yes, I was planned).  So, 1974 it is.   The silk, with the floral sidekick and two spools of matching thread, sat on my Momma's shelf for years.  As a kid I would see that white plastic bag, peek inside, hear her scream "Don't touch that!," and I'd always say "When you gonna make that?" In the summer of 2013 she asked me to help her organize a fraction of her sewing abyss.  In doing that, among the scraps of fabric that I use for muslins, the fabric neither of us know where it came from (or why someone would make or buy it) that is also muslin central for me, she relinquished and gave me her 30+ year old silk.   I greedily grinned and promptly ducked it in my suitcase, so she couldn't take it back.  I the...

So, my friend Tanfer and I went on our yearly lunch date.  This year we perused downtown Huntington, NY (it's about halfway between me and her parents on the eastern part of Long Island . . . me in NYC, of course).  As we perused, we saw button downs, the marker of the coming fall season (this was in July).  Then, then , we saw the price.   200 dollars.  That's US dollars for a shirt.  OMG, is an understatement.   What made them 200 bones? The second fabric used for the button band and collar stand.  Yes, an accent color is the only reason we could fathom for the outrageous price.  So, me in my standard glory began plotting.  My mind began turning, I made mental notes, and when I got home I took note of my inventory.   Yes, a button down shirt had not been done by me and my mad sewing machine skills since-- ahem --high school.  Yes.  For real.  Okay, there was my Tunic from this past winter , but that is not a b...