Another day of satisfying finishing off stuff. Inbetween popping out to the Tate Modern for elevenses followed by a stroll and a light, but lazy and long lunch, I manage to, in the space of five button holes
- revive two long-cuffed shirts and
- a denim dress that pops open at the most inappropriate moment (usually as I sit down for a meeting).
No more popping open to display thighs to colleagues! No more draping shirt cuffs in dinner! Huzzah!
Feeling emboldened by these overdue jobs not taking that long, I finish off the IKEA furnishing fabric housecoat, lickety-split, in under 15 minutes. This was my handstitching project for my brief summer break in Biarritz last June.
Sitting on the beach stitching long, straight lines along its long, long seams made for perfect (lady-like) respite from watching the surfers bouncing about on the waves. Now it’s FINALLY finished, I’ll swish around the house in it, with the central heating turned up, pretending I’m still in Biarritz…
And to finish up today’s roll-call of things I done, I present you with the frilly pink slipover. I’m SO pleased to have finally done something with this.
I absolutely fell in love with this top. So much going for it – frilly, pink AND cashmere. And it was super-cheap, to boot. So cheap it would have been rude to not buy it. So I bouught it, and didn’t wear it once. Shameful.
Well not exactly – I had good reason: it showed my tummy – not always appropriate and more to the point, you don’t want to have tattoo conversations with everyone you work with. Oh and did I say it is just plain stupid? A wool (ergo warm) top with no sleeves. Absolutely useless for workwear anyway (the aircon where I work has three settings: erratic, off and Gas Mark 8).
So I had a rethink and rethunk it as a slipover, in need of a waistband. And suddenly it all made sense – hey presto – cut waistband off bobbly pink Uniqlo sweater (that, luckily, nearly matches), overlock raw edges (after nearly sabotaging the whole thing by breaking a needle on ridiculously unsuitable piece of test fabric – don’t ask) and with trepidation, gently zigzag on new waistband.
Futz about with camera in hall and promise self to stop judging bloggers who take pictures of themselves in the mirror.
It’s not easy to focus in a mirror and timers don’t work if you want to be in focus! If I look blurry and pleased with myself, it’s because I am. No more sewing today, I’m tired.