Closet Cleaning

It’s the new year!  2011!  Lots of things to do and resolutions to keep! (or something)

For the past, oh, six months to a year, I’ve spent an increasing amount of time in self-reflection regarding how I view myself as an individual and a body in space, as well as how I want other people to view me.  Thanks to Fatshionista and other FA/HAES places on the interwebs, I’ve been detangling myself from confidence-sucking inferiority notions based on my physical appearance — ones that have followed me, as with most young women,  on one level or another since self-awareness kicked in.

In another few months, I’ll have graduated from college, and hopefully, y’know, employed.  This past September, I started renting a house with several friends.  These are the things I’ve been thinking about in the past two weeks at my parents’ house, during which I’ve realized that, really, my collection of clothes living in my parents house hasn’t changed since I was in high school, and I don’t need them anymore.

Yes, it might seem like a minor thing, but I have some sort of unholy sentimental attachment to my clothes.

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Halloween Project Start!

This latest installment to the mad saga that is my sewing career concerns my favorite holiday of the year: Halloween. I have decided to coordinate with one of my housemates, and will costume myself as the element of Air, personified by wind and light. I have roughly six weeks to complete my outfit, shoehorned around the demands of schoolwork and my (ha!) social life.
We’ll see

State of being

Not getting nearly as much sewing done as I really want to be, and there’s some commission work that really, really needs to get done in the next week.

I accidentally dyed something too dark, and am currently wondering whether I should bother trying to take the color back, or leave as-is and find a new coordinating fabric.

Contemplating the pros and cons of skirts at camp, and I really should make an apron.  Hmmm… might be less averse to potential garment harm if I mod the skirts from current skirts in my frankenstein pile.

Am also breaking in a pair of 14-eyelet doc martens, which my feet do not thank me for.