boring is good.

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned from innumerable wardrobe analyses and all that, it’s that I. Am. Boring. That’s OK. My inner self has come to peace with it.

Don’t try to fight it, my inner self says. Your colorful blouses and shiny dresses will only get worn so often, especially when all those navy and ivory and gray and beige fabrics are sitting in your stash, and furthermore, your not-terribly-well-fitting navy linen dress will get work as soon as it’s out of the wash.

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and now for something completely different

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I don’t know about you, but I am a planner. Especially when it comes to sewing.

I’ve got spreadsheets, I’ve got lists, I’ve got a mental line-up of blog posts. My stash is categorized by when I plan on using each piece, and I periodically reorder it when my to-sew list changes.

(Lest you think I’m some sort of neat freak, this just means that I keep pulling things out of my for-later box of fabrics, then stacking them on top of my to-sew pile of fabrics, then repeating the process until the box is pretty empty and the pile has exploded all over my bedroom. Then I refold everything and start over.)

So you can imagine how it went when my sewing machine went on the fritz for more than two weeks.

I had PLANS, big plans for projects to make and blog, and it was all for naught, because all I could do during that time was cut out future projects. And I hateĀ cutting.

So when I got the ole machine back, I needed to make something. Right away. Start to finish! This is a tall order for a snail-like sewist with a strong tendency to get distracted by things like food, email, and air currents, so I glanced at my to-sew list with an eye for the fastest project possible. And I skipped ahead to summer.

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