Me-Made top from the archives: the polka dot braces top, with a pair of braces sewn at the back and clipping to pockets on the front. I made it from my bodice pattern of 2002, made to fit me at university (and generating an A for the finished top, for the record). But the pattern disappeared sometime around when we moved house last year, and I am LOST without it.
I don’t have a photo of my own Me-Made oufit yesterday (a very old corduroy skirt for a messy messy morning at Playcentre) but Rata was workin’ this delightful combo on the beach yesterday at the beach! She wouldn’t stand still when I tried to photograph her, seemingly unwilling to be any small distance from me and running to me – probably for shelter from the wind. The hat was her old dad’s when he was wee, the leggings were made by a local lady who also makes THE BEST UNDERPANTS YOU WILL EVER OWN (she’s my hero, and possibly deserving of her own tribute post) and the painting apron made by me for getting paint on (instead of the rest of her clothes). While it looked pristine, the apron was secretly too cool to get paint on it but I put away my crazy mother tendencies and soon enough some very attractive paint splodges came to the party. It was funny though, trying to make something plain and then coming out with something cuter than if I’d done it deliberately. Such is life.
On another note, I do not own a handbag, and have no idea how Rata came to know what to do with the bag her shoes came in.
Favourite (can you tell) skirt worn with the belt from my shift dress and a fabulous vintage shirt left behind the couch by a friend when she moved out of our house. It has its own belt but it doesn’t fasten, so every time you bend over it pops open. The front has a cute detail where it seems to have been ribbed lengthways by folding the fabric and stitching very close to the edge. That technique must have a name…
About five years ago I added triangles of fabric inside the arms as I was tired of not being able to lift my arms up. I did it by hand when I was many, many miles from my sewing machine (on the other side of the world, in fact) and frankly I’m surprised those stitches are still in place.
There’s quite a mess behind me. It’s called ‘Making Marshmallow Slice and not cleaning up immediately afterwards.’ The feeling I am experiencing as I type is called ‘Realising Louis said he’d be home early today and I should probably get to it.’
(I am really looking forward to eating the Marshmallow Slice, let me tell you. If it has worked, I think it is a feat worth blogging, so watch this space.)