I quietly made a deal with myself this year to not buy anything that I, theoretically could make. So as a prefrontal cortex retaliation my brain has decided to take a massive interest in shoes and bags and printed scarves and other shit that I can't zip-zip on the crusty-had-it-since-I-was-twelve Bernina. I see through you brain, I know your dirty tricks.
I've been looking at my shoes and realizing that I kind of hate them all. A lot of them are for a fantasy dress that I just need to sit down and make already. My hatred is born from my inability to wear them and having to look at them so long without being able to utilize them to their fullest potential.
Are they even what I'm into anymore? Like, that pair of buff colored Suzanne Sommers mid-heel needs to start being added to the mix. What mix? Another post for another time. A nude shoe is timeless right?
I've kept a lot of things for a long time and don't really ever wear them. I'm tired of not feeling satisfied when I look through my wardrobe. It's not spring yet but I feel the urge to clean house. There's fabric for roughly 30 dresses but a couple of nice rayons that desperately need to be put to use before they're out of season again. Impulse shopping for things that don't fill the void could have purchased me those Vivienne Westwood animal toe court shoes by now. Really? That's a depressing thought. I could have had my fantasy shoes in real life instead of 4 other pairs of just alright shoes. DO I NEED anything mediocre anymore? Can I say no to garbage?
I'm tired of waiting for someone else to do exactly what I want. Designers have been super boring lately and I need to get some fucking traction with my shit but I have a hard time staying on task, so maybe if I put it in a public place then I'll feel the sting of shame when I fail to meet a self-imposed deadline.
Question mark?
Two weeks: February 9th 2010
One dress
Reline faux fur coat/ change buttons
Exclamation point!