My sister had this pattern back in the day. I thought it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen and wanted it for myself. You can find this at http://www.lanetzliving.net/
Visited Sissie this weekend and had a marvelous time. She took me out to eat and out shopping–all her treat. We were talking about sewing and decorating. She has made her apartment look like something fit for a design magazine with mostly items from Big Lots. That’s right. You read correctly. She makes everything look beautiful. I don’t think I saw one thing she made herself or even painted. Very unusual. BUT, she’s got a much more demanding job now and is enjoying some instant gratification here and there.
Shopping for clothes! Yes! We went to Ross and a few other places that had super-cute blouses (because I just can’t find pants to fit anymore) at ridiculous prices. She was thinking that sewing to save money is an idea long past, and I had to agree. I want to sew for the fun of it and the control of design and fabric. Problem–when you’ve gained a good bit of weight, it’s much harder to find clothes that fit and look nice. So, discovering that a finished piece of your own sewing just doesn’t fit the bill, then what? Tears?
Sissie turned me on to I Can Make You Thin’s Paul McKenna. Now, this is the same Sissie who “encouraged” me many years ago to join Weight Watchers. I blew her off for at least a year. But, when I finally went to Weight Watchers, I lost 20 pounds and stayed skinny for years. So, although I was skeptical of Paul McKenna, I watched. Well, she also told me to watch, so I was scared not to. It’s a sister thing.
Well, I watched two of his videos that she had recorded, and I have to say…it makes sense. It makes a whole lotta sense. And, frankly? After listening with a semi-open mind, I’m not thinking about my day in terms of food and how to fit my day around eating. Part of his technique is something like aversion therapy. He asked people to imagine some gross things associated with food. What yucks most people out doesn’t do much for me, but to tell you what I pictured might make you never want to eat again. For those of you who are curious, I may reveal my image in another post. But, boy, it is super-sick.
What does this have to do with the title of my post? Back when I was thin and took a great deal more pride in my appearance…..let’s just say it–BEFORE CHILDREN…..I remember reminding myself to pull back from the table and leave food on my plate. I actually did. Now that I’ve let my weight stay on for so long, I’ve forgotten the mind-set. While Sissie and I were out, we saw a couple of ladies behind us with their children. They absolutely defined CUTE. Darling. And, they were all slim and well-dressed. Hard not to sigh and think of yesteryear, you know? One of the women was wearing a printed blouse with a rather unique though not unfamiliar trim, and I couldn’t help pointing it out to Sissie.
Today, I’m back at home in front of my computer perusing my favorite sewing blogs and what do I find? The same trim on a little girl’s dress. The red pom poms. Ta da.
But, it was the post that stopped me in my tracks today. The author’s mother is in ICU and not doing well at all. Judging from the number of people who responded, it shook more than a few other people up as well. It certainly put things in perspective for me. My own mother called me just a little while ago to see how I was doing. She, herself, has been very ill for a while now. I’ve never thought crafting or pretty clothes were frivolous any more than images of nature that please the eye, but I am always aware, especially on days like today, that beauty doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It is ever-present in the people we see it in and the people we share it with.
I truly hope Jennifer’s mother recovers, and I am so thankful that my own mother was able to call me today and laugh about my children’s latest shenanigans. She may not know it or believe it, but she is truly beautiful.
This doesn’t look exactly like the lunchbox Sissie used to carry when she was a teenager, but it’s the best picture I could find on the net. You’d better believe I wanted one just like it. Or better yet, I wanted Sissie’s. Everything she did was cool, I thought. She went to camp with a funky little suitcase, which I coveted, of course. She had a funky seventies pillowcase, which I wanted. And she got to go to school and carry her lunch in this darling little case in my favorite color—red!
This is the story of how my imagination compromised Sissie’s dignity.
One morning, as Sissie was preparing to go to school, I was inspired to remove her lunch from the case and pack it F-U-L-L of…what else? My underwear!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was pretending to take a trip, and it was made all the more real, because I was in reality riding along in our VW “Bug” in the backseat as my daddy drove Sissie to school.
I watched (having forgotten about my morning play as easily as children tend to do) as Sissie stepped out of the car, began walking toward the school which was, of course, SWIMMING with teenagers when…..oh what happened? That lunchbox popped open like a jack-in-the-box and out flew panties EVERYWHERE!
All I remember after that was teenagers laughing and pointing as Sissie frantically gathered my underwear off the road and stuffed it back in the lunchbox.
I’m amazed she still speaks to me, but I think she blocked this out of her memory. She probably comforts herself by believing I dreamed this. Or, as she often says, after raising children, she can’t BE embarrassed anymore.
If you like the lunchbox, head on over to Ebay. It’s a classic, anyway. Just don’t stuff it full of underwear.
In a previous post, I described a Raggedy Ann and Andy burlap rendering. Here it is, obviously AFTER some weathering. I wonder who was responsible for Andy’s condition????????????????????????????????????
I also mentioned all the presents my sister brought me back from Disneyworld. Don’t forget that this was in the 70s, so she was able to actually score big-time shopping. You can’t SEE it, but I was wearing a Winnie the Pooh necklace that she gave me over my t-shirt. She had tried to pose me so that I showcased everything! The pink dog was hers–won at the Fair. I loved it, because my mother wouldn’t let me have stuffed animals. Or, at least, she refused to buy them for me!
This is my sister. She can do anything. Not half-way, either. As far back as I remember, she was crafting, sewing, or just had her hands busy doing anything creative she could. I think the first vehicles were, for her, camp crafts, bible school crafts, 4-H… She told me recently about an art teacher she had as a child, or was it a teacher who happened to teach a little art, who inspired her. I’d never known how important all of that was, because just as we don’t imagine our heroes having heroes, it never occurred to me that she needed any inspiration of her own or that she was once the little pair of eyes watching someone else paint or sew or pull odd materials together to form something new. To me, it all began with her, and that’s all I needed to believe, anyway. At the time. We shared a room together when she and I were kids, and she looked like this and had a horse. I followed her everywhere and must have been very annoying. She put up a funky looking poster in our room and a bumper sticker over her closet door that said “Archie is a Saint” referring to Archie Manning. She, along with everyone else in our family, actually enjoyed watching football on tv. I never got into it. In fact, I never even had the sense to ask who Archie was or what a Saint was. She also hung a burlapped rendering of Raggedy Ann and Andy on the wall. Early on, Andy popped his suspenders, and it all began going downhill from there for him. As different pieces of the unfortunate duo began to disappear, it seemed a bit sad and lost. Not that my grubby, fat little hands had anything to do with it. That I don’t remember. Once, she made one of those science project volcanoes for school. Fascinated me. She knew everything! Of course, these days, that kind of info is everywhere–how to make science projects, craft of the week, dough crafts, macaroni crafts, crochet patterns, knitting patterns, etc–but in the 70s, it absolutely was not. We didn’t get craft magazines or sewing magazines at our house, and there was no internet. There weren’t copy machines in the grocery stores, and we really didn’t have much of a public library. “How to” books are everywhere now for those who can do, or those who, like me, are, like me, wannabes. Wannabes tend to read a lot and look at pictures.
When the 80s hit, she dove into the craft movement like Greg Louganis at the Olympics. She taught me to crossstitch, and she taught herself to crochet rugs, knit sweaters, weave baskets, embroider, quilt, smocking…
You know, I just say that she taught herself. Truthfully, I can say I’ve never seen her in the beginning stages of anything. She presents her idea, gets the what-choo-talkin-bout-willis look from me, then presents the finished project, and again, I’ll say in all truthfulness, it ALWAYS looks ready to be photographed for a magazine.
I call myself a WANNABE because, unlike my sister, I’ve spent years studying crochet books, sewing books, knittting books, tatting…. everything. It takes me forever to make any progress, because I need someone to actually guide me through my lessons, to correct me, to tell me when to pull stitches out and to start again. And, to be honest, I have less faith in myself than most people. When I tell her about some of my ideas and ask her if she thinks I can do it, she always responds with an “Of course, you can!”
But, she can actually read and understand directions.
I’ve always believed that she is fearless.
When she was a teenager, she used to scare my mother to death all the time as we were riding along in our car. “LOOK AT THAT CORVETTE!!” she would scream. Maybe it’s just me or maybe it has to do with THAT kind of reaction, but I don’t think Corvettes have ever been as beautiful as they were in the 70s. I used to fantasize about growing up and making enough money to surprise her at Christmas with a yellow Corvette in the front yard. It would have suited her perfectly. Of all the strong personalities in my family, she is one of the only ones I truly consider to be fun-loving.
She was always, always kind to me. She took the time to teach me manners, to talk to me, to let me tag along, to ride me on the back of her bicycle, to laugh at my mostly dumb jokes, to rouse me on Christmas morning to say “I think Santa Claus came last night!” and to bring me tons of presents home from her church trip to Disneyworld, one of them being my first watch, a Minnie Mouse with a pink strap that I still have. Well, I still have the watch–and it works–but not the pink strap. I had longed for one all through second grade. She even wrote a postcard to me on that trip, and I don’t know where it is anymore. I would give anything to have it again.
She was the first person to make me feel important. And, it’s funny, but nobody has had quite the same effect on me since. It’s funny how imperative that first sense of self is, and there’s no bond like the one you make when you’re that young…..with someone who guides you, who inspires you, who shows you how much fun life can be, who makes you feel cute or precious during the only time in your life you can expect to be adored. God, we’re lucky if we ever find anyone who thinks everything we do is smart or funny or just naturally enjoys our company. She did. And, she does.
- "garage sale"
- Calvin Klein jeans
- Crochet Pattern
- Designer clothes
- designer jeans
- Finished Crochet Projects
- Finished Products
- Finished Projects
- Food and Drinks
- new projects
- Sale at Hancocks
- The Twenties