Month: August 2010

Tuesday Project Roundup: Changing Plans And The Importance Of Pattern Placement

Karen1 Comment

Originally I had planned on making a two-tone Cynthia Rowley dress. I had some leftover wool jersey from the dress in February to use for the bodice and I got a yard of Liberty for the skirt. I was picturing a lovely end-of-summer dress.

But as I still haven’t learned, the cut on her patterns are odd. I sewed the bodice before cutting into the skirt fabric (maybe I am learning a little), and it’s just too low cut. It’s a lovely end-of-summer party dress, but I don’t really go to parties. I suppose I can throw a skirt onto the bodice if a party ever does come up, but I didn’t want to waste the Liberty on something I’d only wear once a year.

So I made the skirt fabric into another button-back top. This time I went with version 3, with the cut-out in front and the ties. Here it is with the sailor skirt, if you can make it out

And here’s a close up, which brings me to pattern placement: Doesn’t the cut-out look like a mouth, and don’t the two dark blue daisies on my shoulders look like eyes? NOM NOM NOM!!
I only had a yard of fabric to work with, so I probably couldn’t have done anything about that even if I had noticed. I’m just glad I can’t see it when I’m wearing it.

NOM!

Friday Unrelated Information

Karen3 Comments

1. Brewvies has a feature on the last Sunday of every month in which a bad movie is shown and the audience is encouraged to act like the MST3K crew and heckle it. Does this seem like it would be a fun event, or does it seem like it would be incredibly awkward? The novelist in me is really curious.

2. A client has repeatedly asked for copy to be “more fun.” I am tempted to show them the next round written in LOLSpeak.

3. It’s the weekend! Follow Toby’s example and put up your feet tonight.

I Haven’t Talked Much About The Garden This Year

Karen1 Comment

But I have one. It’s doing well, except for the zucchini (this is my fourth summer here and I never get a lot of zucchini–lots of flowers but only one or two squash. It’s a mystery.).

Here it is:

This year I added a birdbath, which is too deep for them to really bathe in but does get used for drinking. And there are sunflowers.

This Is An Intervention, J. Crew

Karen4 Comments

J. Crew, I know we’ve drifted apart since our very public breakup a few years ago. Sure, I’ve checked in sometimes, to see what you’re up to–and to see if you have any cashmere cardigans in good colors (oh, the cardigans, J.Crew, the cardigans seem to last forever…). But lately, I’ve been worried about you. It’s more than just the prose style–I guess I could get used to that–but I feel like I hardly know you any more. For example, look at what you offered in Fall ’07:

You were in Paris! Your models were happy! They coordinated! They brushed their hair! What happened in three years?

Now you’re hanging around with a suit-clad Jesus and wearing Hammer sweatpants? With an Army hat? This…this isn’t the J. Crew I used to know. I know I’ve matured and evolved in three years, but I haven’t abandoned everything I value, like colored peacoats and bright pretty flats.

I don’t know what’s going on in your life but I am worried about you, J. Crew. I mean, you used to offer real pants:

And now there’s this:

Those are…not pants. I’m so worried. Get help, J. Crew.

This Is An Intervention, J. Crew

Karen

J. Crew, I know we’ve drifted apart since our very public breakup a few years ago. Sure, I’ve checked in sometimes, to see what you’re up to–and to see if you have any cashmere cardigans in good colors (oh, the cardigans, J.Crew, the cardigans seem to last forever…). But lately, I’ve been worried about you. It’s more than just the prose style–I guess I could get used to that–but I feel like I hardly know you any more. For example, look at what you offered in Fall ’07:


You were in Paris! Your models were happy! They coordinated! They brushed their hair! What happened in three years?

Now you’re hanging around with a suit-clad Jesus and wearing Hammer sweatpants? With an Army hat? This…this isn’t the J. Crew I used to know. God knows I’ve matured and evolved in three years, but I haven’t abandoned everything I value, like colored peacoats and bright pretty flats.

I don’t know what’s going on in your life but I am worried about you, J. Crew. I mean, you used to offer real pants:

And now there’s this:

Those are…not pants. I’m so worried. Get help, J. Crew.

Tuesday Project Roundup: If I Make You A Present, I Will Blog About It

Karen3 Comments

As I mentioned, it was my dad’s birthday over the weekend. I also hinted at a present: I made him a Hawaiian shirt for some birthday aloha.
The fabric is barkcloth, a lucky find from a Hawaiian store, and I used a Simplicity pattern that was really straightforward. It didn’t call for a facing on the back yoke, so I added one–and then cut a hole in it (swearing ensued). Fortunately these “made by” labels are self-adhesive and patched the hole.
And they’re true!

Friday Unrelated Information

Karen3 Comments

1. Sunday is my dad’s birthday. Happy birthday, Dad! Your gift this year is me not buying a house that has to be fully remodeled. (Just kidding, you’ll get something else, too.)

2. If you’re feeling irritable or defeated, I’ve discovered that all you have to do is listen to ABBA. This is my personal favorite:

3. This helps, too, and is endorsed by the man who discovered penicillin:
A good gulp of hot whiskey at bedtime — it’s not very scientific, but it helps.
(Sir Alexander Fleming)

Poem Day

Karen

Here’s something silly and cryptic from our buddy Frank O’Hara. There are lots of references to hip New York people and places from the late 50’s that I don’t get, but I’m posting it because I love the “croissant factory” line near the end.

Lines For the Fortune Cookies

I think you’re wonderful and so does everyone else.

Just as Jackie Kennedy has a baby boy, so will you—even bigger.

You will meet a tall beautiful blonde stranger, and you will not say hello.

You will take a long trip and you will be very happy, though alone.

You will marry the first person who tells you your eyes are like scrambled eggs.

In the beginning there was YOU—there will always be YOU, I guess.

You will write a great play and it will run for three performances.

Please phone The Village Voice immediately: they want to interview you.

Roger L. Stevens and Kermit Bloomgarden have their eyes on you.

Relax a little; one of your most celebrated nervous tics will be your undoing.

Your first volume of poetry will be published as soon as you finish it.

You may be a hit uptown, but downtown you’re legendary!

Your walk has a musical quality which will bring you fame and fortune.

You will eat cake.

Who do you think you are, anyway? Jo Van Fleet?

You think your life is like Pirandello, but it’s really like O’Neill.

A few dance lessons with James Waring and who knows? Maybe something will happen.

That’s not a run in your stocking, it’s a hand on your leg.

I realize you’ve lived in France, but that doesn’t mean you know EVERYTHING!

You should wear white more often—it becomes you.

The next person to speak to you will have a very intriguing proposal to make.

A lot of people in this room wish they were you.

Have you been to Mike Goldberg’s show? Al Leslie’s? Lee Krasner’s?

At times, your disinterestedness may seem insincere, to strangers.

Now that the election’s over, what are you going to do with yourself?

You are a prisoner in a croissant factory and you love it.

You eat meat. Why do you eat meat?

Beyond the horizon there is a vale of gloom.

You too could be Premier of France, if only… if only…