Thursday, June 25, 2009
Maybe. Generally I treat Blindingly Brilliant, Four O’Clock in the Morning Ideas with high suspicion. Four in the morning is a time for dreaming whimsically of a blurred and innocent youth spent frolicking in bright white,* through overgrown wheat fields, with a floral wreath-thing perched upon long, breezing-in-the-breeze, down-to-the-knees, tresses.** Four in the morning is not for staring into the dark, brainstorming refashioning notions.
During a recent sort-through of anklebiter hand-me-downs, this exquisite, all the way from Paris, size six month baby dress, was one of three items placed to one side. I planned to wrap in tissue, attach a death threat in moth language and haul out a few eons hence for the sentimental dressing of frolicking grandbabes, (refer pic on the left). Unless I make a handbag, (refer pic on the right).
The issue is, I haven’t the foggiest how to sew (much). I haven’t any inkling of most of the rules, but manage to bend them anyway. I do know that a lining is the order of the day, even though I do so like the see-through holey bits. I know it’ll be fiddly, but I’m happy to go evenly and patiently by hand. I’m also thinking just-right wooden handles might be the bees knees. So stop me now, you sewers in the know. You may just be able to spare some poor future grandkid an unfortunate experience, gadding about in a wooden strappy number.
* I have only ever known off-white
** I have only ever owned curly hair. Curly hair in my family never grows longer, just springier.