Thrifting over the last few months has provided some bright weekday moments in my otherwise bleak and depressing winter of vast underemployment. I obviously have a thing for wool, but especially for tweeds and plaids. I once had a crush on someone because of his worsted houndstooth pants – take away the pants and he was just an ordinary, rather boring, man – with the pants, he might as well have been Adonis. Luckily, N appreciates a good piece of wool clothing, so he is practically turning into a man-sheep with my woolen finds in his size (and the occasional score on his own)…
But back to the new additions to my stash. Most of these fabrics will be re-used, re-purposed, recycled into other things for other lives; some for sale, and some for me.
I love the yarn in these two pieces. Some tweed yards have primary colored neps [those little color balls] and I hate those – primary colors = 1980s or preschool, ’nuff said. I love these secondary colors, and you gotta love orange and turquoise – 1970s tube socks! But with the beige and black yarns they are reined in. The black is a vest that doesn’t fit me right – I may try to alter it as-is, but I’ll likely frog and re-knit it. The beige is another unfortunate cropped sweater that also has some shrinkage, definitely a frogger or a fuller.
And some various woolens. One (I won’t tell you which) I cheated on – it’s got a lot less wool than what I usually require, but I liked the colors and pattern too much to walk away from it. Two of these will probably become bags. And I was excited to find the brown herringbone Harris Tweed jacket and had plans to sell it, but I sadly discovered many little holes – perhaps too many to keep it as-is, but we’ll see.
But let’s be honest, eh?
This is how matters really stand – piles of sh*t and blurry images.
My shooting gallery (say hi to the dummy) is also my sewing corner and is also the only spot in the room that gets any natural light from its one dirty window.
A dirty window that will soon be even further blocked by leaves. Don’t get me wrong, I love leaves and love them even more for blocking the parking lot that attracts unsupervised juveniles who like throwing rocks at cars and the adolescent ne’re-do-wells who lurk about drinking and sucking at skateboard tricks. I just won’t be able to take many pictures indoors soon.
I hope to have my new and improved Etsy or other online shop up and running in another month or two and possibly do one booth at a small fair this year. I’m discouraged though, the crafting biz ain’t what it used to be… And you know, I’ve never felt like such a stereotype more in my life. Educated urban/suburban white female in early middle-age, gone through job crisis, deludes herself thinking she can turn to craft for substantive* income. In an attempt to be slightly more competitive, I bought some “professional” labels since my hand-printed ones looked well, too handmade (which is how they should look dammit) but I didn’t calculate the size very well in the order. They are too long and unwieldy, but I don’t want to waste them, so on they will go.
*At least enough to cover health insurance – do you realize how breathtakingly expensive private plans are, or how much most of them suck? And forget about the fact that I’ve spent my entire career in non-profits and have precious little saved for retirement, but what is that anyway? Do enough diners still exist to hire crusty old cantankerous broads? Can you still get a trailer in Florida cheap? Are there any knitter-friendly flophouses?
ASTITCHMATISM 