perfect pattern parcel #6 and another solid staple for Maman

Every so often, there's a new Perfect Pattern Parcel. It's a group of patterns you buy as a set. you pick your price and the $$ goes to the designers, to the woman/mom/breadwinner who organizes it, and to my favorite organization this career, donors choose!

but often the patterns are kinda frumpy. or for kids. :( We can be real here. We're among friends.

my mom: neither frumpy nor a kid. She is one Classy Lady.

But #6 was for women, and it had the sweatpants. I raged (inside) about all of the internet hubbub when the pattern was released, thinking yich! sloppy! unflattering! with every new version.

And then I bought sweatpants at uniqlo and almost immediately wore them to a wine date in SF. SWEATPANTS. i wanted to off myself for the sake of streetstyle everywhere. I am a victim of a trend, and I like to wear comfy pants, and i teach yoga 2/week and i may as well cave and make some damn sweatpants.

So parcel #6 comes out, and it is: a tent dress with a romanian vibe (non merci), a maxi skirt (easy to do on my own but maybe there are interesting instructions?), a drapey cardigan (YES PLEASE), a cute tee shirt (eh) and the pants. I bought it. Let's say I did it for the children.

So far, I've made a long black skirt for myself (glamorous, gothy, flattering) and a spongy burgundy cardigan for my mom. fuck sweatpants!

(for now)

xoxo
bex

pretty lady

it's time for the annual "talk about your roots" class...look at this great photo of my grandma Cleo that I just dug up. fam'ly glamour.

hey wait- there's more!

this is a sweet photo of my two grandmas - the one who birthed my mom (right and above) and the one who was my grandpa's second wife (left), who made me dresses, crocheted me blankets, and made sure there were chocolate chips cookies at her house for my visit.

and aw, that's baby Uncle Jon in between. you've met him, haven't you?

perspective: GET STITCHING

"eh- you know which way to the mausoleum??"

ok, i made a lot of progress on my SWOP goals, and then i started having a social life. and then i went out of town to honor my grandpa, and here we are a week later and i don't have anything to show for it! well, i picked up a really beautiful rock in the Rockies. it was private land, so i am not robbing our national treasure-- private ownership did that already. whoa, tangent much?

ok, so, back to the point. penelope, who is crazy, writes such good things. here is today's reminder.

You don’t need a huge grand [career] to make your life fun and interesting. You just need to have a challenging goal that you are trying to reach, each day. You need to be able to make money doing it: that is what a good job is.

A good life is something else. It’s the stuff that isn’t your job. ... Your job doesn’t love you. Your friends do.

so, ok. i have good friends. i have really good relationships with my kid, my parents, my friends and my hot bf. thumbs up! keep those up for a good life. for immediate achievable goals, i will sew the heck out of my wardrobe, and keep learning and growing, i will study like hell for the CSET, and i will not get hung up on this job that i currently hold, which is obviously such a bad fit. 

"Sencha" blouse, free plaid fabric. it may be poly ?!?

here's tonight's deliverable ;)  maybe one day i will make it again, and try even slightly to match the plaid. maybe.

xo bex

inspiration: grannies

My Grannies were sew-ers. Would they be called sewists today? Probably. Then, they were just "women."

Cleo is the fashionable one, who was from Nebraska but never passed a sale without scoring something glamorous. Ms Cleopatra, as a single lady:

Aww. I want to copy this collar. but scoopier, of course, for the modern era. 

Here she is in the way back (are you a fashion historian? What is this, 20s?), showing off her unders and glamming on the porch. Fabulousss. I love how frumpy and froofy her dress is (that's her on the right), and that it still hugs her waist so nicely and is completely see through. This isn't a "flash effect" like you see on the red carpet today, there was no flash photography. She's just out, flashing in the sunshine.

Now- the wedding shot. By this point, she had hopped a boat to Central America, started lying about her age, and bagged an up-and-coming young pilot for her Man. How lovely is her super understated dress? And what? fingerless, opera length gloves? Yups. 

And finally, here she is with my pretty mom and (paternal) great grandmother. In Hawaii in the 60s. I am genetically blessed, right? Pardon the grave note, but this is what Grandma looked like while she was dying of cancer.  

 Not a ton of style to steal directly (like in the form of dress patterns), but I'll keep looking. And no matter what, I get some sweet white hair when it's time. None of that screwing about with grey. Woop!

Can I borrow your grannies' outfits? xo bex

before i forget: i am thankful

for my friends. who watch and love on my kid, and seem to have endless patience for me.

for my parents, who still support me so much it's humbling, most especially with this stupid law stuff I've been through this year. but also for the heater, which my mom had installed when the little boy was less than a week old. 

for unemployment, which is keeping the heater on and the bills paid, so far. 

for my neighbors, who are always just right next door, and also love on the boy. 

the internet, which keeps me connected even as i'm alone in my house.

the library, where we can go and sing songs and get new stories for little man to tell me, surprising me every time. 

the sweet california sunshine. even in the surprising cold, that sun shines.

for prozac, which has softened the last 10 days. thanks, big pharma. also for the other thing that's kept me mobile for the past 5 years. that one is pretty great too. 

for the guy at the party who listed "avocados" number 2 on his list, and reminded me to do my own. 

Thanks. 

dysfunction runs in my family

especially on dad's side. little sister is here for a visit and already she's been drunk on the plane, requesting vodka for groceries, and telling me she won't leave the house alone. in fact, she's so adamant about that that she got a headache this morning and spent the whole day in bed.

please god help me not get totally bummed out by this BS. please please please help me open the windows, go for walks, and not get sad and angry by her pathos.