I Did It. My Way.

We've already established that reading pattern directions is my kryptonite. Even when I was making dresses and blouses for Home Ec I needed help translating arrows and darts. The fact that my mother was a pretty accomplished "sewist" didn't help matters because she was left-handed and (to me) did everything upside down and backwards.

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I wanted a purse made from my treasured stash of Japanese fabrics.  I knew how I wanted it to look, and I knew I had all the hardware and fabric and fusible fleece to do it.  I even had the right size hexagons to paper piece the top part so I dove right in and then spent an inordinate amount of time ripping it apart.  Ironically - I understand purse construction SO much better that now I might actually be able to tackle reading a pattern!

When I made this I tended to put pieces together and then say, "Hmm, I should have put those snaps in before I joined the 2 pieces together."  I honestly think I made a purse upside down and backwards.  While I don't think Mom would be proud,  it is finished.  I might need to remake one of the snap-in inserts, I got so caught up in stippling that the finished insert might be too heavy for the purse.  I was always so afraid to stipple but I'm finding it can be very Zen-like.  (It's also quite a workout for your upper arms, let me tell you!)  I have no explanation for my obsession with pockets other than to admit I have a fantasy of presiding over a completely organized purse. I bought a special zipper for the topmost closure - just in case those pockets get overstuffed and unseemly, I can zip the whole thing shut and no one will know.

I'd say it came out about 85% like what I wanted, and I might up that percentage after using it for a while. Think I'll move into it and give it a test drive next week.  But YAY, I finally (after years of waiting) did it!

Wanting to Walk in Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes

George Gordon, Lord Byron, must have been thinking of a woman wearing a really good embroidered silk kimono when he wrote that lovely poem.  My love affair with nightgowns began when I was very young. This picture shows me going out early -  in very bright sunlight -  to fetch the morning milk.  I knew the nightgown would provide the necessary elegance to undertake such an act at an ungodly hour.  (It was before I drank coffee and could manage a few basic functions....but I digress.)

My mother was prolific on her sewing machine and I had beautiful nightgowns all through my life (even college).  I could give you colors, trims, details about them that should have long ago disappeared from my memory banks.  To this day  I seek out and feel a little thrill when I find something really nice. A new nightgown by   Eileen West has been my annual birthday gift to myself since I turned 50, but deep down I'm yearning for something really spectacular, something I have wanted for years.

I want a silk robe kimono.

An authentic one,  none of this eBay or Pottery Barn crap.   I have this "champagne taste on a beer budget" syndrome that extends into the strangest areas of my life. Purses? Meh.  Shoes? Pffft.  Jewelry?  Got it, don't wear it.  But a good nightgown and silk robe?  Tie on a bib, I'm slobbering.

Most movies are memorable for the story they tell but  I also remember them for the truly important stuff.  In one of the most poignant scenes of the movie DeLovely, Ashley Judd gets dressed for an opening night just after suffering a miscarriage.  She's weepy, the music is haunting, and all I can see is this drop dead gorgeous silk kimono she is wearing as a robe.  It is thick, heavy, buttery, gorgeous. The colors?  OMG.   In Gosford Park, Kristin Scott Thomas rocks  a silk nightgown (likely trimmed with Calais lace) and shrugs on the most spectacular ivory kimono, embroidered with all kinds of muted tones. Her face is covered with night cream for God's sake, but she still looks positively STUNNING.

I'm not at all  surprised at my love affair with nightgowns and robes.  I have never felt especially pretty in my entire  life - even when I was young and thin and pretty-ish.  The nightgowns and robes are just for me - not for public consumption, not for competition or approval.  They exist solely to please me.  I feel pretty in soft, lovely things.  I feel elegant and pampered and sophisticated.   I like the feel of it on my skin and the whooshing sounds they make when I "walk in beauty" to refill my morning coffee or cross and uncross  my legs as I read the newspaper.   That is probably the same experience other women get when they are rocking a new pair of designer shoes, the latest purse, or something off the fashion pages.  It isn't really important what that thing is that gives us  the feeling of 'walking in beauty.'  It just matters that you take the time to do it for yourself.  Women generally spend too much time and energy caring for others and neglect themselves.    Whatever it is that  makes you feel like you are walking in beauty,  to borrow a phrase from Nike -  "Just do it."

We Interrupt this Sewing Project for a Nor'Easter....

Dropped everything to go outside and rescue my Japanese tree peonies.  There is a nor'easter storm headed this way, and they will be shredded cabbage by morning if they weren't cut and brought inside.   It's tricky - the blossoms are huge, but you don't want to cut much of the stem as (like hydrangea) they grow on that wood stem next year.  I wait all year for my peonies - the herbaceous ones are still tight little buds, but these beauties are now safely inside where I can gaze upon them and soak them up.  The inside pictures don't do them justice!

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Cue the Monks!

It's Monday, I'm home all day, and I don't have to do anything until supper tonight.
WHAAAAT?

Yes, it is a paradise day.  I'm due for one.  I've got the sheets washed and hanging outside on the clothesline (okay, they are still the flannel set but it is getting nicer out...).  I've got my homage to Yoko Saito wall hanging spread out on the guest bed for some  major tweaking before  I press, baste and quilt, and I've got my snazzy new (old) TV hand-me-down set up in my sewing room.  Does it get any better than this?  So what am I doing?

Cathedral windows.  You heard me.  When I was about 17 I saw my first cathedral windows quilt and it just knocked me over.  I have never forgotten it.  I have always wanted to make one, but was completely overwhelmed at the amount of time, effort and hand sewing involved.  Fast forward a few decades and I have found some nifty tutorials on the blog sites.  I now love hand sewing and I feel ready to take the plunge.  So far I have only committed to a small set, so it might end up as a pillow. ( Or a pin cushion, if I don't even make it that far. )  I think I'll pop a Monty Python movie in the VCR and let the chanting monks inspire my cathedral windows.

For those of you who want to play along at home, the tutorial is  from the blog Making Ends Meet.  It  is clear, easy to follow, and inspired me to take the plunge:   Cathedral Windows Tutorial

Hari Kyuou - Say Goodbye (and Thank you) In Japanese

If you wonder about my long love affair with all things Japanese, here is a perfect example:   Hari Kyuou. Japanese women perform this ceremony of consolation over their broken needles and dull pins.

This from Miho Takeuchi's wonderful blog:

It was believed that  tools and utensils used roughly should become the monsters (the Gods named Tsukumogami) to attack people 100 years later. Tsukumogami, or “artifact spirit”, are a type of Japanese spirit.  According to the Tsukumogami-emaki, tsukumogami originate from items or artifacts  that have reached their 100th birthday and thus become alive and aware. Any object of this age, from swords to toys, can become a tsukumogami.

I love the thought of thanking the needles and pins for their service, and sending them off with consolation and assurances they will never do harm.  They are such vital tools to what we do, why not honor their service?

Along with consoling their broken needles, women are encouraged to console themselves and bury secrets too personal to reveal. Thanks to Miho for the above post - visit her blog and learn more about the ceremony - it is fascinating.  Studio Aika