1. Today was the last day of my internship. I get (got?) paid in fabric, which is just as awesome as it sounds. I’m sitting here making moony-eyes with a Carolina Herrera silk organza that has a herringbone-ish raffia pattern (I know!). I can’t decide if I want to have its babies or attempt to mainline it. Either way, I don’t think it’s going to end well.
I’m having this grand to-show-or-not-to-show debate with myself. I love (love) seeing other people’s fabrics, but when I get stuff that’s not dirt cheap, it feels awkward. You know? You don’t know? You think I’m agonizing over something completely inconsequential? I agree.
2. Tomorrow, I’m heading out with my mum and aunt and shepherding them around the Garment District. I’ve vowed to purchase no more than two cuts of fabric. We’re going to 10+ stores. Commence paper-bag breathing. Have you ever shown someone you love around your favorite places? Both of them sew (to varying degrees of success) and I really hope that they like my wee district. Hell, I’ll be glad if they like it more than they like Jo-Ann. (Though you have to drag me out of Jo-Ann.)
3. I should be transcribing one my interviews with a fabulous professor who is an author, blogger, and fellow cat-person. Holla! (I reserve all of my hollas for cats and fellow Singhs, obvs.) Instead, I am lying on my heating pad and scribbling this off. Brilliant.
4. I had a beautiful day. Then the torrential rainfall came. The aforementioned CH organza got a bit wet and part of it caught a case of the uglies (the raffia came a bit undone—wah!), I ducked into Chipotle to wrap it up like a baby and grab some dinner. Of course, the Chipotle bag got wet on the street and the burrito fell out. Onto the wet NYC sidewalk. Other of course, I totally came home, baked it, and ate it. Now I shall go to sleep wondering if I baked off the hepatitis it undoubtedly got from the sidewalk. There was totally foil on it. That makes it better, right?
5. The need for more personal projects and self-taken photos is obvious. How easily I’ve slipped into naked consumerist territory because I’m too mortified to post my wadder-heavy round-up.
6. Drunk on fabric and last-day love, I slipped and fell while going into my building. As a professional slipper and faller, ain’t no thing. However, I was totally surprised by how many women stopped to look in on me. I landed in a cross-legged sitting position with nary a bruise. I stayed down because the worst thing you can do is rush back up again on a wet surface. Trust. It’s a recipe for a second fall. One woman stayed to converse with me. I tried to shoo her away but she was a Concerned Citizen (capital-Cs) and insisted that I get up and try to walk on it. A second woman who didn’t even see me fall freaked the eff OUT. I think she thought I was pregnant and fell hard enough to eject a fetus. (Um, no. No on both counts.) Would I stop and look in on someone who fell? I wonder. A cute guy let me know I dropped my burrito and almost picked it up for me. Who says New Yorkers aren’t nice?
Off to sleep, as I have to get up at dawn’s first blush. Goody! This is totally not a sewing blog anymore. Was it ever?
Seam Ripped 