Sunday Confessional

On Sundays I'll confess my secrets. Nothing too scandalous, just the things that I would otherwise omit from my blog. Things like: my house is a mess, I can't cook, I've become frumpy, my skin's broken out, I murder houseplants, I'm having an affair with the mailman - stuff like that.

So today I'll show you the state of my studio. It's a mess.

I've got this room stuffed to the gills with kokoleo merchandise, projects-in-progress, things to be repaired, and fabric and notions spilling from every corner. My desk overfloweth. . .


I keep the fabric I use for personalized pieces in a big bin beside my sewing table. For small scraps, they take up a surprising amount of space. Notice also the tangle of ties creeping out from under the table. They like to wrap themselves around my ankles when I'm desperately searching for a foot pedal.

My ironing board quickly gets piled with projects that need immediate attention. So I ignore them and just iron on a towel on the floor. Notice the bag of hangers below it. The only thing worse than a bag of hangers is a bag of angry cats.


My dresser and closet. . .


It may look like chaos but I know exactly where everything is. Except my scissors. They always disappear on me. They run off with my seam rippers and hide in the most ridiculous places. It's not until I go out and buy new ones that they show themselves.

Someday I'm going to come home from a yard sale excursion with the coolest vintage fabric ever! but when I go into my sewing room to find a place for it, the room will suddenly EXPLODE and spew fabric scraps and ric-rac all over the neighborhood. The room cannot hold another little notion.

So guess what? I'm getting a new studio! We signed the paperwork and handed over a check this afternoon. Kokoleo will soon take up residence in the area formerly known as our patio and McKenna will finally get her own room. Sweet!

Confessions of a Distressed Seamstress

It's 2 a.m. and I need to write. I need to do something constructive and since cleaning is not fun, I'll write.

I just spent about 10 minutes sitting in my sewing room staring at my fabric paralyzed with a million ideas running around in my head and an inability to settle on one single project. The inner dialogue (crazy voices?) in my head sound something like this:

I have this and that commission to work on but Hey! I remember this fabric, I got it to make a purse one day. Maybe I should do that. Yeah, it'll be a messenger style bag with an inside zipper pocket. What strap would I use? I'll go look in the ribbon drawer. Hey! I remember this ribbon! It would look perfect on a little girls top. Maybe I should do that. I'll pair it with this fabric over here. . . Hey! I've been looking for this! I thought I lost it. Damn, I've been carrying around this fabric since I worked at the Dragonfly. God, what's that been? 11 years. Jeez. I'm getting old. Erik and I had just started dating then. That reminds me, I need to fix that button on his shirt. I should look for a button to match. Hey! Look at all these buttons! I should do a button collage. No, I should do a fabric collage. Why don't I make art anymore? I need to make a work of art that isn't functional and just hangs on a wall. People pay more money for art than they do for functional stuff like purses and baby clothes. Why is that? Man, I have a lot of stuff in here. Why do I feel compelled to make so much stuff? Am I crazy to think that someone is going to want to buy these things? I think I have a hoarding problem. Maybe I should get rid of some stuff. Okay, I'll start with this. No, some day I might need it. How about this? Okay, I'll put it in a bag to sell at a garage sale some day. There, that's progress. I'll just put this bag over here. Hey! Here's a bunch of T-shirts I got to reconstruct. Maybe I'll do that. How about I applique a cityscape across the bottom? No, a mountain/river/sunset scene. No, how about a pteradactyl? Yeah, think outside the box. Hey! What's in this box? Yarn. This would make good monster hair. Maybe I'll make a monster. He'll have hair and I'll name him Hairy. and horns! I name him Horny Hairy. No, that won't do. What should I do? Hmmmm. A pillow? A purse? A baby dress? Embellished tee? Tooth fairy pillows? Backpack made out of neckties? How about I weave all my ribbon together and make something with that? Man, it's a mess in here. Maybe I should clean it up and organize everything. Nahhh. I'm just gonna go mess around on the computer.