I am going to be so happy when grad ceremonies are over. Seriously. I can't wait to get this fucking dress done. Seriously. I don't do anything else on weekends (until the evening, sometimes I go out at 9 or 10pm, if I'm lucky) but sew. Sew, sew, sew fucking sew. In the morning I eat breakfast...no, what am I talking about? I don't eat breakfast...then I sit down at the sewing machine and sew. You know what I do in my breaks? Hand stitch. I hand stitch in my breaks. This, now, is what I consider a break. Gods! What am I turning in to? A woman?...what ever... In my breaks I sew trim on for relaxation, do alterations, mend and reinforce by hand. I'm coming to hate it. But it's one of those things that is self-torture. Like theatre. It hurts, but it's so good...you just can't help but do it... I have stacks and stacks of material in my room waiting to be sewn and I don't know if I can stomach any more sewing for a good while. I have about five metres of 60" herringbone grey fleece (at a very good price, too) that begs to be lining a cloak. One and a half metres of matted dark green wool that needs to be an elaborately embroidered bodice. A little over a metre of hand woven pale blue Irish wool that would be perfect to line a hood. Seven metres of black and purple raw silk that needs to be a Italian overdress. Several metres (I haven't measured it all) of black and red brocade that's itching to be made into a doublet. About four metres of gold cord that keeps migrating towards the brocade, wanting to be the edging (it would be beautiful). Mounds of silk embroidery thread that hugs any material it comes across. A great mass of mink fur I inherited from a great aunt that wants to line a fine lady's winter garb, or at least adorn her bed. Rabbit fur that hounding me to turn it into the lining for a winter bodice (it too is second hand, and a little worn in places, but it would make good, sturdy lining). A length of sheepskin that whispers 'boots, boots, shoes' to me every time I pass it. Mountains of faux fur and beads and semi-precious stones and scraps of beautiful material and freshwater pearls that trade secrets of being turned into elaborate favours. Fine black gauzy material and a length of coins on a chain that resemble a half together bellydancing outfit. Too much. Too, too much. Too much to do, too little time. Good god. And I'm finding myself hating sewing. And loving it at the same time. Damn. I'm sick of this crap. Get me out of here. . Rosie.
Before&After
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