When I think of an afternoon spent sewing, bucolic images such as these come to mind.
Gentle breezes, the scent of roses, birds singing in the trees just for me. (Hey! If I’m gonna be delusional, I may as well enjoy myself.)
In the real world, however, I usually get behind or (worse) get distracted and viola!: short of fabric by 1/4 yard, lose the last of the ten perfectly matched vintage buttons, sew the right leg of the drawers onto the left side of the waistband…there is no limit when it comes to my creativity…and end up with something that feels more like this:
See the woman in the second row glaring at the camera? Oh, yeah. I’m feeling it too, honey.
But for a few days I have some quiet time to stitch to my heart’s content. Theoretically, at least.
I’m house/dog sitting for a friend over the weekend. She has a house that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. It is quiet. The dogs are even getting along (at least no bloodshed for the time being). Yes, t’s a tough job, but someone has to do it, right?
I pulled out the instructions for the Regency Corset, read them through another couple of times, and am ready to start. I’ve washed the heavy white twill and the lining. And I’ve talked myself into handmade eyelets. Hence, The buttonhole thread.
The stage is set, the players present…it’s curtain up!