Metro Textiles strikes again, and I have almost no idea what I’ll do with the whole haul of it. Well, I do, but I’m always mortally afraid of not having enough fabric for any given application. I also scarcely own any lining fabric. Whoops. I have to go back out on Monday (my aunt messed up one of her fabrics), so hopefully I’ll rectify the lining situation.
I feel like I go through fabric stages. I buy tons of fabrics for shirt dresses, then retro fit-and-flares, then cropped trousers, then jackets. I need to branch out. Then I start thinking, “How many shirt dresses can I possibly own?” Then I descend into a spiral of self-doubt. It never ends well, reader.
I wasn’t sure about the fabric on the bottom. Then Kashi told me to hold it up to myself like a dress. He took a picture. What do you know, it worked! Excellent salesman, him.
Hmph. It feels like I bought much more fabric than this. I also got an extra yard of a fabric I already have (an orange and green Milly silk print) so that I could eek out a dress if I want to.
I think I might look like a middle-aged suburban secretary (not administrative assistant) in the lower navy-and-black fabric. Who says that’s a bad thing? Did you watch Project Runway? No stylish women wear navy or chiffon.
I’m off to breathe deeply into a paper bag and try to launder some silk. I own more silk than I do cotton, yet I’m deathly afraid of touching it. I just need to remind myself that dry-cleaning is so terribly bad for the environment and aren’t I as granola as granola can be (no, otherwise I would have thrifted all of the above). Then I think of water spots, shrinkage, loss of hand, the horrors! Let’s end on that up note.
Seam Ripped 