I found Meg McElwee of Sew Liberated, through Rae, another sewing, pattern-making blogger. I loved Meg’s artsy aesthetic and layered style. I purchased a couple of her PDF patterns over a year ago, but I never printed them out to use them.
Fast forward to this spring – two years since I made anything meaningful. I’d just committed to taking a fast from buying RTW (ready-to-wear) clothes.
Last year’s #memademay felt like a total flop for me, but this year as May swung around I thought to myself, I’m going to start with May 1 and just stop when I run out of handmades to wear. No pressure.
I knew I didn’t have enough clothes to wear something I’d made every day of the month. I was cool with that. As though permission to fail was all I needed, I started sewing again. I got two more patterns from Sew Liberated, and ordered a ton of fabric.
Where do you shop for clothes? How often do you shop? Is it medicinal, or is because you have an identifiable need? Do you shop ethically?
I’m a medicinal shopper. I’ve historically been pretty good at making it seem at least part of the time like it’s an identifiable need, but usually, it’s just because I’m stressed out and looking for a way to control my environment.
As a lady in my Late Thirties, I’ve become a bit of a snob with my shopping. I don’t remember how I discovered Anthropologie, but their quirky, European-inspired, artsy offerings appealed to me immediately. I had realized the cheaply made, fleeting styles of third party sellers on Amazon were often disappointing.
I started with Anthropologie’s hand towels. On sale, they are often around $10-14. Which is pretty expensive for a kitchen towel, but these aren’t your average kitchen towel.
When I was a between 11 and 13, I had a few black t-shirts and a pair of black jeans.
Around that time, there was someone in my community who was too old to be attracted to me. It was someone who went to my church, who I saw regularly and couldn’t get away from. He would stand near me at during youth group or at the back of church after the service, and quietly say things to me. One day, he told me I looked good in black.
So I stopped wearing it.
I’m leaving for the Netherlands in about a month. I’ve already started packing. I recognize I will never have enough time all at once to pack as I’d like to. Instead, a few minutes here, 20 minutes there, is what is going to leave me feeling relaxed and ready the afternoon I hop onto my train headed to New York and the airport.
I’m packing a carry-on for the trip. The cost of checking a bag was obscene, and I like a challenge. Now I have two challenges: what to bring, and how to fit it all in my hiking backpack.
After doing a little internet research about what Europeans wear, one article advised not to bring a backpack. I am traveling alone and will be doing a lot of walking. I’m not doing it with a dinky wheeled suitcase, and I have a really nice hiking backpack from my 2014 Mt. Hood Trip. The backpack is German-made, so that has to count for something, right?
I haven’t been to Europe since I went on a missions/sightseeing trip to Austria, Hungary, and Romania between my sophomore and junior years in college. The trip was amazing, but, as one young man who came with us said with annoyance, “This is a missions trip! Not a musical.” And indeed, the group would burst into song at any time, on public transit, or just walking along the street.
And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin.
Matthew 6:28
When my senior prom was coming up, my mom took me, my favorite cousin, and my best friend Mac to a mall in Pennsylvania (where there isn’t any sales tax on clothing).
I don’t remember how many dresses I tried on, but I know that I would come out of the dressing room and if anyone on my team shook their heads “no” to the dress, I put it back on its hanger.
I still remember the looks on their faces as they unanimously voted yes to a navy blue number.
In a couple of weeks, I’m going to a semi-formal event.
I don’t have an entourage to take me to the mall or help me pick the right thing out of my own closet. And I really, really miss them.
