an awesome woman by the name of cinnamon gave me sewing lessons for a christmas present. and i’m not talking a sewing class at vogue fabrics. the woman herself, as busy as she is, offered to teach someone who has never touched a sewing machine in her life how to make a skirt. admittedly, i’m pretty crafty and enjoy working with my hands, but i was a bit daunted by the fabric cutting, zipper installation, and the seam ripper (which is now my best friend). regardless, i was up for the challenge. moreso, i was up for the possibility of becoming more adept at a new skill and having clothes construction be a viable platform for explanding my own wardrobe.
shortly after the holidays, cinnamon picked me up in sparky the hybrid, drove me to the south side for fabric shopping and a late lunch at manny’s.
the first fabric store was sterile, intimidating, and needless to say, we didn’t buy anything. then we headed over to vogue where ladies of all ages were lingering over different bolts of fabric, rooting through the piles, trying to find that perfect texture, perfect color. hell, that’s what we were doing.
vogue kept us occupied for nearly an hour, methinks. but having never shopped for fabric, i didn’t know what i wanted, what i needed, what would be best for a first-timer. cinnamon guided me through everything. the creative aspects, the details, the requirements. she was a trooper for dealing with my novice ass.
the process of skirt-making is pretty boring in written terms, but the actuality of it fascinates me. something about the minutiae of anything triggers a portion of my brain that should be tapped more often. the time flew by, and i could physically see a wearable object start to form.
i’m neglecting to report fully on the zipper wrangling and the ripping of said seams three times. all of which were a result of not putting the foot down on the sewing machine. tangled thread, stitches not completed—you better believe i’ll never forget that step again. nor will i sew the pattern panels together backwards. another simple oversight.
so skirt #1 is finished and ready to wear. skirt #2 has begun and it will have some other features. i’m ready to learn pocket installation and perhaps trimming. and skirt #3 is probably a ways off yet, but that one will be equally cute. because i can only get better, right?
project runway, here i come…er, not…
31 January 2008
this year didn’t feel like christmas. in years past, the emotion was decidedly evident. a tree with gifts already piled beneath it, sweets and goodies constantly around prior to being considered mere leftovers, bustling from one family event to the other with cheer.
the holiday that was just upon us didn’t register the same way. i’ll look past the superficial aspects of the season that didn’t equate. and sure, the bustling from one household to the next was there, but cheer wasn’t necessarily always abundant.
on the one side of the family, the time together passed slowly. some of us hung back with those more familiar while others stuck with their own packs. i remember the times when all the cousins were younger and intermingled, and we giggled and played and couldn’t wait for the next familial gathering. but when the cousins have kids old enough to be in high school, thus aging you, the luster is clearly gone. the fun is now for them, not for us. there’s not much left to do but spectate really. and though that’s not all bad, it certainly leaves much introspection of where the time has gone and have some of us really drifted so far from where we came?
as for the other side of the family, the matriarch tried to keep up her appearances, though the puffy red eyes and less than jovial greeting at the door told a different tale entirely. missing loved ones and longing for times in the recent past, when everyone was present, certainly puts an odd spin on an otherwise upbeat occasion. some of the family was split in one room, the rest of us at the table as normal. only to find out later that a bit of drama went down and it was only now, right at dinner that those of us late to the party would find out exactly what. and even then, i’m not 100% sure i still know what happened when and why.
it wasn’t a bad holiday by any means. any time spent with my family is usually a pretty good time. this year was just…different. and perhaps a turning point for the traditions yet to come.
29 December 2007
the boy, better known as naz “the enabler” hamid, has taken his enabling to new heights. but let’s start off with his track record.
he’s gotten me and several others to make the jump to digital photography, namedropping nikon along the way. so a number of us now own d50s or derivatives thereof. and of course, let’s not forget the pushing he did for the sigma 28mm macro lens at SXSW. i wasn’t there to defend my purchase (people, this was a purchase i made after careful consideration and through no prodding by any outside sources), and i’m sure he may have mentioned to some that it was really my lens, but somehow that detail went to the wayside as i read about others now snatching up this lens like it’s going out of style. all thanks to naz. ahem
and let’s talk about bikes. when we first met, i was chugging around on a monster of a mountain bike, lovingly referred to as “hank the tank.” but as our relationship quickly progressed, so did the upgrade of my bike gear. i started with an ’80s fuji old school style, now i ride a mercian that receives glances of all sorts on the streets. all due in part to my boy. and that’s just bikes. he’s also been there to “encourage” me to buy nice patagonia gear and weatherproof bags. he’s still working on the fixed gear and clipless aspects, but for those, i will never falter.
and this weekend. let me tell you about the damage that was done. the cleaning of closets. trashing the clothes that may still fit but no longer fit in fashionable terms. part of this is my desire to look good and thus feel good. and another part is the boy’s playful joshing of my clothes selection. i guess i’ve been spoiled by the fact that i’ve always worked in an industry where i can wear jeans and tennis shoes to work. i’ve never been forced to look presentable. well, maybe i’m coming of age or [insert some other bullshit line], but i’ve become dreadfully bored of my appearance. the clothes, they just ain’t working for me.
and who was there all too readily to help me with this latest endeavor? you betcha. shining armor and all. rather, trash bag and cutting sarcasm a la stacy and clinton. the ribbed sweaters. gone. that faded black top. gone. skirts that hung just a little too oddly. jeans not quite the right denim color. pants that wouldn’t even look good altered into cute capris or shorts. all of it. gone.
and then comes the shopping in attempt to replace those that suffered a merciless death. six hours on saturday braving the elements known as michigan avenue and then about an hour and a half on sunday at probably my favorite retail establishment, anthropologie, and i walked away with five articles of clothing. you heard right. five. what a failure am i.
but the truth is, after much coaching from the boy, reinvigorating your wardrobe and replenishing your closets can be a hit or miss journey. some days, the sales are aplenty, the sizes are all right and the crowds are kept at a minimum, and you come stumbling home with your hands full of bags, proud of all your purchases. and other days, you only come out with a few select pieces, but all very good pieces, as was the case with me.
and then there’s the cost issue. if you want to look good, you really do have to pay for it. i’m not a total convert, and i’m sure i’ll still bow down to the target bargains here and there, but admittedly, i paid more for those five pieces than i care to disclose. but i love them all. and i know i’ll get good wear out of them. and as a former colleague once told me when i was still such a newbie to the likes of banana republic, “jen, it’s really about the price per wear, not the upfront cost.” and you better believe that’s the same sermon i heard from the boy.
so i guess it wasn’t a total loss. i love what i purchased and look forward to parading around in new garb, mixing and matching what i still own (what little remains, that is) with the classier pieces. and in the future, i’ll find a piece here and there to intertwine with my reborn wardrobe, slowly working my way up to a better me.
i actually sound like i believe this load of poo, don’t i? goddamn that man is good.
06 May 2007
