Behold! Your bimonthly video. God, I’m worried that my face is going to stay frozen like that in real life.
for those who think young
a sewing blog without the sewing
Behold! Your bimonthly video. God, I’m worried that my face is going to stay frozen like that in real life.
Seam Ripped 
GIVE ME THAT WATERCOLOR GINGHAM!
Regarding you fruits, I think sewing makes you attracted to prints, and to weird yokes. Because it looks “interesting”. Which doesn’t always look good. I try to stop wearing fruits (dress with cherries was given away) but I’m still wearing flowers. Why are flowers ok and not fruits ? I don’t know.
Lastly, I noticed that for instance on Pinterest if you have a “fashion” board and “sewing inspiration” (sewspo? Is that a thing?) board they are often very different. Why is that? Do we sew what we want to wear or wear what we want to sew?
I’m in a questioning mood today, I have absolutely no answer.
Why flowers but not fruit? Why flowers but not (certain) animals? When I buy silk scarves, I can’t buy scarves with people on them, but my no animals rule has relaxed to include birds. Why? I haven’t the slightest.
Oh, I have three boards. One with prints that I actually own, out in the wild, one with fashion looks I’d like to recreate (interesting color combinations and styling), and one with things I’d like to sew (interesting design details). How much of this has to do with perceived levels of skill, I wonder?
I never have answers. Welcome to the team.
I feel fine with zebras, for example. But not foxes or cats or DEFINITELY not bunnies (I love rabbits. But NO bunnies). Elephants are on the line. Why? Where are these lines coming from??
I’m torn between two thoughts: wear whatever the heck you want, it’s your taste/body/prerogative. And wear what’s age appropriate. Those two thoughts fight it out a lot in my head. And I have the fabric stash to prove it. I mean, I made a skirt from giant lobster fabric. Lobsters! I hate seafood and I don’t sail off the coast of New England. But man, those lobsters are fun to wear.
That’s my life. I think everyone should have the freedom to use their clothes and their bodies however they see fit, but my eyebrows hit the ceiling far too frequently. Whenever I see a favorite fashion blogger quit her job to blog full-time, I know that I have about three months of readership left in me. There is something to be said about creativity within constraints, even if those constraints are sucky and societally imposed. I just want to be respected, damn it!
I think your lobster skirt is very Schiaparelli.
I am way too old to think young, so I don’t. I think most people go through a sewing evolution, so to speak, and so perhaps eventually your sewing will change. For now, enjoy what you like and don’t worry about it, I think. PS You have a lovely face, whether or not frozen in video-ing consternation!
My frozen face thanks you!
I admire Kiernan Shipka’s style far too much for a reasonable adult, I think. But, when I think of what Oscar de la Renta and Carolina Herrera do—and to a lesser extent what we see at Dior—it’s basically the same deal. Not sexless, per se, but there’s a willful avoidance going on there.
Yeah, this is something I often think about when it comes to sewing (and dressing). Firstly, I am a fair few years older than you, and I sometimes wonder if it becomes more problematic as you get older, or if a 30 year old in a sailboat print is just as much a grown-woman-dressing-like-a-five-year-old as a 45 year old in a sailboat print…
From the blogs I read I think I have had a similar progression to many other sewers in that you start off with “ooh – look at everybody’s novelty prints – must buy all the quilting cotton” and then you realise that whilst a full skirted cupcake dress is great for blog photos, you don’t really get much wear out of it and that what you actually want is knit tops and the odd graphic print.
And is there a scale of age appropriate print? Taking some popular themes, off the top of my head I would say: Spots>checks>stripes>flowers>fruit>birds>animals>boats>cakes, but clearly that is completely subjective.
There are, as you say, some bloggers who look great in their cherries or cowboys or foxes, but on the whole, like Melizza, I am torn between ‘wear whatever you want’ and ‘for goodness’ sake, dress your age!”
So, another commenter with no definitive opinion on this; I do know that I would absolutely wear your spots or your faux gingham, but these days would probably keep the birds for a button down rather than a frock…
I’m lucky to have moved away from quilting cottons fairly quickly but damn is that Cotton and Steel calling my name.
See—and I hate saying this—I think there’s a way to do it. I was at the doctor’s office the other day, and there was a woman there who was at least in her late fifties, wearing a polka-dot fit and flare, a fun cardigan, low-heeled loafers, and cute earrings. She looked adorable and youthful, and it captured, I think, the essence of what the novelty prints are supposed to be seeking. However! I don’t look askance at older women wearing Lilly Pulitzer sheath dresses. Are those just normalized, or are their prints tempered by the silhouettes?
I cut the birds for a simple elastic-waist skirt this morning, using a Zara (of all places) technique that I quite enjoy. Will update headquarters on whether or not I look like a baby in it.
It was the polka dots. And the Cotton and Steel fabric is super soft and nicely printed. Which it should be at that price.
I live in Melbourne, Australia, which has crowned itself the ‘fashion capital of Australia’ (clearly following the trends of the northern hemisphere). Right now the fashion of choice seems to depend on ones ‘tribe’ (and God I hate these classifications that some wanker comes up with to categorise people). I don’t really see many women in fun prints, or fit and flare dresses apart from those that fall into the ‘vintage’ tribe, or perhaps the twee ‘hipster’ tribe. So rather than looking childish in such prints and dresses I’d consider the look to be on the spectrum of vintage-inspired.
I too had the gottabuyalltheprints phase, especially cats and birds, but soon realised I had a wardrobe of orphan pieces, was in my mid-30’s with a very unglamorous job and the wearability of such garments was very limited, so I reigned myself in somewhat.
I say if you love it, and you’re going to get wear out of them then go ahead and make fun things. Hope the polyester doesn’t disappoint you – only succumbed once, and it’s certainly not a warm weather garment!
Oooh, I hear Melbourne is super chic, yes?
Here is my problem with this particular brand of vintage: The 1950s and 1960s were such periods of grave oppression. I suppose there is value to taking it back, yes, but whenever people say things like they want to do things like they were done in the 1960s, I just hit. the. roof. No, no, no, no.
I cannot wait to see how much I can get away with at my new job, truth be told. I’m sure I can’t wear ballgowns or anything distracting, but the occasional silk skirt? I’d love to see your orphaned pieces, for sure.
Oh, the polyester smell is already getting to me, I have to admit. I went to gather it into a skirt, but realized that my elastic doesn’t stretch enough. Must go sew in some pleats, and then gather it all in.
I have fallen for enormous wax prints. Luckily, I care not for the rules of the size or theme of prints, so my deep love of novelty print clothing can continue unabated (it does end up in summer shirt dresses) and enlarged. Very very enlarged.
I went in on a Vlisco order with Gina from Feminist Stitch, and I like my prints HUGE. Gina (rightfully) led me towards the tasteful, with great results. But man, do I sort of wish I picked up this enormous geometric print. Or! This one with sunflowers on it. Sunflowers!
Prints for life!
I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit lately, too. I’m 37, so the pressure to look and act ‘my age’ is definitely coming to bear, but I refuse to let someone else pigeonhole me into a category, whether or not I feel drawn to that category for any reason. I’m a bit contrary that way. ‘Oh, I’m SUPPOSED to look like XYZ? Well too flippin’ bad! I prefer ABC.’ even if I only prefer ABC because it’s what I’m not supposed to be. There’s an element of ‘just try and make me’ to my personality that I don’t always understand.
Anyway, I am attracted to fun, whimsical, sometimes even twee prints, but I don’t honestly want to look like an escapee from Gap Kids or the quilting cotton section, or even the Lily P kids store. I will happily look like an escapee from the Lily P adult store, however. There’s a difference between prints that are done in a twee, childish way and prints that are done in a sophisticated, fashion-forward way. To take the example of a lobster print: it’s the difference between a quilting-cotton lobster print intended for something like theme-party napkins or one that hearkens back to Schiaparelli’s ironic use of a single huge stylized lobster. And the same dress pattern from prints created in these different modes will look … completely different.
I’m of the opinion that you should wear whatever you want, but with an awareness that people will possibly judge your personality and your professional ‘seriousness’ incorrectly based on what you’re wearing. You could temper the effect of a pink cupcake-printed dress with an edgy boot or moto jacket to really confuse the heck out of people. That’s always fun. They won’t know what to really expect. Then again, having your abilities completely misjudged could give you an advantage. They’ll never see you coming.
What is “your age,” anyway? There is such a spectrum of appropriateness.
I think that kids’ things and adult’s things are beginning to converge, which is why I am especially concerned. I go to J. Crew and too often think, “Why isn’t this in my size?!” There was a slate gray loose shift with rainbow embroidery at the yoke about which I still think. Then, I see Isabel Marant do something similar and feel infinitely more validated. Which came first, though? High(ish)-fashion validation of something kiddie, or kiddie adaptation of something high-fashion?
I just bought some age-appropriate sack patterns, and I looooovvveee them more than I ever thought possible. (Merchant and Mills Dea, Park Lane, and Dress Shirt.) But. I wonder about the old fit-and-flares and their place in my life.
You know what this reminds me of? Gender apartheid. Hear me out. We were in class the other day talking about whether or not Saudi Arabia is engaging in gender apartheid (short answer: yes), and the abaya. Some of the men could not understand why an airline’s policy of making its female flight attendants wear the abaya during Saudi flights would possibly be considered less-than-kosher. Indeed, restrictions on dress were just beyond them. I think that society—American society in particular—places such an emphasis on the relationship between who we are and how we look, that it is almost impossible to separate the self from the wardrobe. Which is where the cupcakes and the moto jacket become important tools rather than simply a cute combination. How did I get here? Yes. I agree about being misjudged. I’m misjudged all the time, and I kind of love it.
Oof, “gender apartheid.” There’s a heavy phrase. Do you mean that in your class some of the men couldn’t grasp why dress restrictions that exclusively apply to women amount to gender apartheid? Yeesh. I think the only possible way to get people with that kind of brain-block past the block is to turn the situation around on them. If MEN, only men, were the target of such regulation (with deep cultural roots about the ‘wrongness’ or ‘wickedness’ of their bodies to support it), and with women not subject to any similar restrictions, would they think it’s oppressive?
I agree that in our society how we choose to clothe ourselves–because by and large we HAVE the right to make such a choice–is incredibly tied up in both our self-image and the image others form of us as individuals and groups. I think this is one of the reasons that most private schools institute uniforms–and why so many students find ways to personalize the uniforms.
When self-expression is one of the things a society values most highly, as in this country, it seems only natural that every choice we make in how we present ourselves is viewed as a personal statement about who we are.
Please excuse my less-than-academic language; I was an English major, not a gender studies major.
On a related, but less academic note: kidcore is a thing. The desire to dress like a child is a niche fashion movement.
I just came across this post on Worn Through and just in case you don’t follow that blog, this one might be of interest to you, and align with this conversation: http://www.wornthrough.com/2015/04/23/book-review-fashion-and-age/
I was doing crochet while I was watching this, so I don’t know if I can qualify as someone who ‘thinks young’. I like to live in the illusion that I do…
The ‘dress your age’ thing is a hard one for me as well. I look at the quilting cottons and I think ‘Ooh I want that, look at those cute owls’ and when I first started sewing I actually bought those things and made them into A-line skirts (black skirt with cute little white and red mushrooms, anyone?) and I did wear them, but not much.
I think fabric choices evolve in a few ways:
– skill level: when I first started sewing, I wouldn’t go near tricky or expensive fabric (although some quilting cottons are pretty expensive), just because I knew I couldn’t handle those. I also only knew how to sew a skirt or simple dress, so any fabric for shirts or flowy dresses or whatever weren’t even considered… Now that I feel more confident and have some Tried’n’True patterns that I know work well on me, I consider the fancier fabrics as well…
– usage of the made garment: at first, I made cute dresses (white with red cherries with a ruffled underskirt, only worn once to a dress up party) without practicality. These things weren’t meant to be wearable on a daily basis. They were more like ‘novelty garments’ for when I met up with friends or something. So I guess ‘novelty prints’ make for great ‘novelty garments’. Later on, I would make garments for special occasions, to go to a wedding, or a birthday party or… So I moved away from the quilting cottons to the bit more luxurious (although not expensive) stuff. Now I don’t shy away from anything (pants, dresses, shirts, coats,… except underwear, I just don’t feel very motivated to make those. My friend has a lingerie store, so twice a year when I go home to visit my family and friends I stop by her shop and buy some, she has great stuff. And fitting isn’t my forte) and I try to make the majority of my clothes myself (although I have not taken the ‘Buy no RTW pledge, I don’t want that restriction. There are just some things I can’t make because the materials aren’t available to me) so all the fabrics are now eligible…
– the perceived expensiveness of fabric: we have become so accustomed to cheap clothing and often the first description of what people buy is how much they paid for it: “It was just 15€” instead of “This fabric has a really great feel” or “I think this really highlights my beautiful collarbones (I love those), makes my b**bs look bigger and hides my broad shoulders pretty well” or “Yes, I saw this and thought that it really reflected my personal style” (and often made in dubious circumstances with dubious material, which a lot of people like to ignore or pretend they don’t know) that paying a substantial amount of money for fabric that you have to then sew yourself together, can be a mental block… Although you realize that for the money you hand over for your fabric, you could never buy something of the same quality, it’s still a mental block (conscious or not). I read the book “Overdressed: …” by E. Cline like so many and really made me think about this and kind of changed my perspective on this
– your social circle(s): whether we think we are very individual or not, we are influenced by the behaviour and opinions of our peers. What may be appropriate to wear to lunch with your friends may not be appropriate to wear to work… And even though you might love that novelty print dress and your friends compliment you on it, you might feel bad about yourself wearing it to work because of the reactions of your co-workers. So social expectations definitely play a part, and there may even be a different set of ‘rules’ for different social situations… Most of my friends are very silly and young at heart, but my colleagues at my first office were a bit stuck-up, and in my second office they were more laid-back, so my work-appropriate wardrobe changed dramatically…
– personal style: As I think personality/Self is a fluid concept, it is only logical that your personal style is also fluid. I have some great ‘non-child like’ things in my wardrobe that I would wear as much as I could before, but now just can’t be bothered with anymore these days (I am talking about you, skirts of all types!) and the other way around (hello shirts, seems I love you after hating you for years)…
And I agree, sometimes you see some ‘mature’ lady wearing something and you think ‘If I wore that I would look like a clown or a child’… I think the entire exterior package makes a huge difference as well. I don’t put much effort in my appearance (where is my hairbrush, I haven’t seen it in 2 weeks), so the whole package never seems really thought out whereas this lady may have the perfect hair, nails, shoes, handbag and jewels to make the clothes look entirely different…
I’ll just go back to crocheting now…
As always, your blog (vlog?) was thought-inspiring! You make me use my brain and I love you for it!
I’m going to answer the rest of this (and your other two comments!) in a bit, but I wanted to tell you that I’m actually working on a post about shirtwaist dresses right now. Set for publication today. Thanks for the idea, Wendy!
1. Do you remember that Vogue article from a few years ago, where a novice sewer learns the craft from none other than Jason Wu? She uses silk taffeta from Mood that’s $30/yd or something along those lines. Her dress looked beautiful, sure, but I do wonder about the correlation between frustrated novices and cheap, shitty fabric. I used my mother’s scraps of polyester (the woman a) can’t sew (and she’s reading this, so she’s heard this a thousand times), and b) has dreadful taste in fabric), and it took me something like a year to get properly off the ground and confident.
2. This necessarily has a correlation with age. As we sew more, we get older. As we get older, our garment needs evolve. Isn’t it wild, though, how drastic the changes seem over a compressed time frame when you have a record of it like a blog. There is also the consideration of evolving as a sewer, and understanding that the dress-in-an-evening isn’t necessarily the be-all-end-all goal, and that there are things beyond speed and cuteness. (Like interior finishing. Though, I did just forget to finish the seams of a garment. I literally just flat-out forgot.)
3. I don’t necessarily buy cheap clothing, but I do buy clothing that is often cheaper than it would be had I sewn it. For instance, I’m wearing an Anthropologie dress in a fabric reminiscent of one from Mood that was $35/yd, I paid $75 for it. The quality question is up there for me. Those garment workers, those women, sew hundreds and thousands of the same thing, and damn it, they do an excellent job a lot of the time. But, you do get what you pay for on that front. Then again, I’m talking as someone who literally does this calculations and puts a dollar value on her time when considering how to work out this problem (half my hourly wage based on a forty-hour work week (which I’ll probably never see)). Where was I going with this? Fabric quality. I think that there is often an urgency to fabric buying, because a lot of what home sewers buy are bolt ends, which is why we accumulate a lot of cheap, cute fabric.
4. I have a post about this that’s halfway finished, so I’ll stay mum on the subject.
5. Personal style is fluid. I basically dress in costumes, as I’d mentioned a few posts back. Politician’s second wife, 1970s Mediterranean billionaire, 1950s housewife, I-summer-in-Maine chic, so I believe more than anything that style isn’t static.
6. It’s finals. I’m having supper with a professor and his wife tonight, otherwise I’d still be in my pajamas. I don’t have the “it” anymore, I’m afraid.
Hi Charlotte,
I hadn’t heard about that article but learning to sew with silk with a very skilled teacher seems awesome. I had professional sewing teachers for 2.5 years, and I am sure that really helped in avoiding frustrations and achieving the “#feeling acomplished”…
We were forced to make muslins, so we (me and my fellow students) did tend to buy quality fabric for the final garment. There was also a mix of skill-level in the class, so you would see people making wool winter coats with gorgeous fabric, so you didn’t show up with some plastic crap – peer pressure, after all…
But if you learn to sew at the Youtube-Academy of Everything and want wearable muslins, I think you condemn yourself (and at least half of your wardrobe space) to cheap shitty fabrics. Unless you are of the Warren Buffett-variety, then you can mess around in hand-spun silk lace…
2. Yes, the change is drastic, certainly the first few years. But I feel this is because there is such a steep learning curve when it comes to sewing. Some people never get past the dress-in-an-evening fase, and I guess that’s fine if that is how you want your sewing to be (or if you just don’t have the extra time or don’t want to put in the extra effort). Then there are others, like Leisa from ‘A Challenging Sew’, who invest a huge amount of time and money in making true haute couture pieces, even for everyday use. I admire this dedication and this unstoppable quest for knowledge and skill a lot, but seem to lack the patience (easily helped with some self-discipline) and necessary space (and funds) for this…
I think most sewers (not necessarily the most popular bloggers –> quantity quality?) are somewhere in between. Nice finishes (usually 😉 ), decent fabrics and some basic fitting alterations. I know that is where I sit, along with most of the other sewers I know personally.
3. A sewing friend of mine just told me that she was asked to sew a dress for a wedding for someone (mind you, not the wedding dress) and she wasn’t sure how much she should charge. I told her to charge by the hour (from the minute she opens the pattern package, traces the pattern, cuts the pattern and the fabric… Everything, except the time spent unpicking because of a mistake, not for fitting alterations) and that sewing well is not easy and requires a variety of skills that take a lot of time to master and should be compensated accordingly…
The woman from my haberdashery was having the same problem. Her store is open 8 hours a day and at night she does little sewing jobs like replacing zippers and such and she told me that people complain that she is too expensive (13€ for an hours work of unpicking and putting in a zipper, zipper included, doesn’t seem expensive to me) and I told her that she should tell her clients that they should change their zippers themselves than. If you can’t (or want to) do a job you want done, you have to pay for it… My car mechanic charges 65€ per hour and those 65€ are parts not included…
I suspect the wages for garment workers are so low because historically this is a women’s profession (much like nursing and child care), maybe you should do some investigation into this?
I don’t usually count the hours I put in if I sew for myself, because I also don’t count the hours that I waste away on Pinterest. and I have the attention span of a gold fish and will be sewing 3 minutes and then be on the internet for 2 and then be dancing to a song on the radio and so on and so on… And all the countless hours spent just planning and dreaming up new projects or trying to figure out a sewing problem when I should be sleeping… I don’t think it would be possible to track my time…
Also, garment factories apply different techniques and have different tools and machines than home-sewers, and yes, the workers have more experience. Doing (one step in the making of) 500 fly-zippers a day, compared to 1 fly-zipper in 2 days will build up your speed in executing the work…
And yes, the bolt ends (I only discovered these like 2 years ago…) always seem to call my name too… But I have learned to not listen to them because much to often I had to give away things I made because I just didn’t like the fabric… Only if it’s something I would have bought of the bolt (or if it is something I am looking for specifically -yes, I am looking at you, all the bouclés and fine wools in the world- ) I’ll buy it.
6. Good luck with your finals, I’m sure you’ll do great! And I am in my pj’s right now (it’s 2P.M.) so no judgment here…Besides, PJ’s are the new ‘it’ – or so I tell myself (maybe I should wear pj’s without stains though)…
I totally agree with you about the shapes of most dresses. I started out sewing totally puffy dresses, and I loved them – maybe because I never wore them before? Maybe I felt nostalgic about… something? Anyway, the first time I made a “grown-up” dress, one that was form-fitting and made me feel like a sexy, amazing woman, I realized I could never make another dress with a fitted bodice and gathered skirt. I just felt like a child, and, hey, I was a WOMAN now. Since going through that transformation, I’ve felt weird about seeing these dresses on other bloggers. Some are definitely infantilizing and others can pull it off.
Now, I differ somewhat when it comes to fabric choices. I don’t think polka dots and fruits or dinosaurs are necessarily off limits – I think it depends on how you sew them up. That being said, I really REALLY love fun prints, but I rarely buy them because I can’t figure out the best way to sew them up and still be taken seriously so, eh, maybe you do have a point.
I love this video post, great conversation piece!
Ooh, in class we’d talked about being nostalgic for we-don’t-know-what. Isn’t it the strongest feeling? I think there is some “there” there to the tension between present and past in the possibly infantilizing (or empowering, depending on how you see it) dresses we see on bloggers. I think it largely depends on the reasons why (conscious or unconscious) the blogger seems to be leaning towards those choices, and we often don’t or can’t know those. Which is frustrating for me, because I’d love to know why *I* gravitate towards these styles.
I want to dress in the wackiest fabric ever. But life tempers that. I want to be taken seriously, and will my birdie fabric do that? I’m totally with you on that front.
Thanks for stopping by! I’ve been only lurking on your blog since meeting you last year. Must get better with that.
I’ve been thinking about this lately too. I recently made a couple of shirtwaist dresses and damn if I don’t feel the most myself in them that I have in a long long long time. I also wear knee socks a fair amount – I hate to be cold, I hate for my shoes to rub, and I hate for my (fat) stomach to be constricted, so stockings are fraught. So yes, knee socks. So shirtwaist dress, knee socks, sensible flats, thin knitted jumper… I realised I had literally recreated my high school uniform, albeit in a nicer colour scheme.
And while I am not a SUPER fan of looking like a 16yo catholic school girl… you know what? I feel good in that outfit. That outfit is designed for a womanly figure, school girl or no schoolgirl, and it fits me well and I look and feel good in a way that is totally inaccessible to me while wearing pants. I’m not going to stop wearing those pieces of clothing. Maybe I won’t wear them all together, all the time, but yeah. I’m going to wear them. And yes, I AM planning at least one in gingham (I neeeeed that watercolour print you have) because I love gingham. Don’t know why, maybe I need some Freudian analysing about that but I am never happier than when I am dressed as a picnic blanket. That’s enough for me.
But also, a grown woman wearing a shirtwaist dress would not have looked infantile even a few decades ago. I’m not sure where I’m going with that thought but something about how styles have changed but what we think of as kid’s clothes hasn’t. I mean, let’s be real. When I was six I was wearing a tshirt with something printed on it and maybe dungarees. Not that I’m saying I wouldn’t also be available for that outfit now, but I would be at least moderately surprised if I had ever owned something with a peter pan collar as a child. And yet if I went out in jeans and a tshirt, which is what I actually wore as a child, no one is wondering about me being infantile, ya know?
I also think there are a couple of other things going on. One is that I am a fat person, and my novelty print stage was very clearly about ‘all the clothes available for me to buy scream ‘please look away!!!!’ and I hate that.’ So I sewed robot and apple print skirts. No handkerchief hems allowed. And I wore them and wore them and loved them. And then suddenly I didn’t want to wear them anymore. Partly I think it was other things in my life where I didn’t need/want that same kind of attention, or the same kind of statement that attention was warranted. And also, as my skill increases, I am more able to sew clothes that don’t scream ‘look at me!’ but that, if you do happen to look at them/me, make you want to keep looking. Details and textures and things that were beyond me when I sewed that (very poorly constructed, but well loved) robot skirt, and also fabrics that were out of my price range then.
The other thing is… sex. There is a very very uncomfortable intersection between womanhood, childhood, and sexuality. And it’s freaking gross, but it’s there. So as long as our cultural memory associates peter pan collars and shirtwaists, or whatever, with childhood, then presumably sexually mature women wearing them is going to be fraught. And also, combine that with being fat (and having a large bosom and other unhideable secondary sexual characteristics)… well it’s a big ‘ol pot of worrying.
I DO think a thin woman wearing a shirtwaist reads as less childish. Or at least as less negatively childish. It’s too late at night for me to feel up for examining what THAT is about. But I’m pretty sure it’s gross. THANKS patriarchy.
[…] recreated my school uniform. Thankfully in a MUCH nicer colour scheme. I feel like I should feel some kind of way about that but… I don’t. Shirtdresses are forever, so […]