Little Shoes

The new drug suckitude continues here at Chez Chic.  This new medicine is a little decepticon.  I think the side effects are worse than what it's supposed to do, which I really don't think I've experienced the good effects yet.  Of course this was only the second day that I had all three doses.  A positive?  It's chewable!  Therein also lies another decepticon trait.  It starts out tasting okay and then BLECH!  Stupid deceptive drug.

Ahem.  Moving on.

Before continuing this post I would like to say I AM NOT PREGNANT.  Now that that's out of the way, look! 

Little shoes!  So precious.  So quick to make.  So going to make a pair of these for myself.  What?

Also I've started the major undertaking of sewing a new spring jacket.  I'm glad my mom will probably not read this until she gets back from Florida because she might faint.  I'm using a freaking pattern.  Ugh.  Terrible memories of home ec.  But hey, I consider it a learning process.  I'm even doing the unthinkable and making a muslin (body block, prototype, take your pick) before cutting into the final product.  I know people, this is unheard of for me.  Seriously.  Usually I just jump in and figure, "pff, how can I do this wrong?"

But when you're using awesome material for the finished product like this:

Sometimes this is where you start:

I know.  You're thinking hey!  Why are you making this twice.  In the words of a very sweet little girl.
"Because I want to!"  Also because I don't want to mess up.  Also because I've already done the alterations and I want to see if they're accurate.  Also because why not?

Yeah fine sure

Blah.  Bad week, bad week.  Ended up calling my neurologist and a new medicine was prescribed.  Except THEY DIDN'T CALL IT IN TO THE PHARMACY.  Actually they're probably trying to get approval from the insurance company.  At least that's what I'm telling myself.  Anyway tonight mom came to the rescue.  And brought Benny who is currently sleeping beside me.  Cheers all around.

Tonight I made a quick project.  This wasn't anything that I made up, it's from a book, Making Children's Clothes.  And it is super cute.

I wanted Benny to model it but that isn't very sanitary. 

Speaking of so cute...

That's my 14 year old buddy.  Love.

Put a Fork in it

Cause the underskirt is done.  Hollaaaaaa!

Behold!

Yes.  Modesty is still the best policy for Vicki. 

So maybe you're thinking what I'm thinking which is, "holy crap!  I finished this thing!  And it is poofy!  And adjustable!"

No, I know you people.  You're thinking "um, okay...but is it functional?"  Pff.  Is it functional?!?  This sucker is so functional it turns party girl Vicki into classy Victoria.

Ok, here's a dress I purchased.  It's a nice spring dress.

Now for the magic!

Poofy!  I am so thinking of wearing this to church on Easter.  With the underskirt.  Yeah, I'm proud.

Ruffle Intervention: A Theoretical Event

Last post I added at the end that I took the underskirt apart because I wanted it to be longer.  And poofier.  So it went from this:

To this:

(Yes I believe in modesty.  Even on a dress form.  I'm weird, get over it.)

I am still unsatisfied.  Living alone however let's me obsess in peace.  Yet even I realized this was way out of hand when I started using floral wire to make a hoop that balanced out the bottom.  All I need to do is attach the overskirt (which is done) and it will be finished.  Yet I keep tweaking things here and there.

So after another night of little sleep I was messing with the skirt and thinking I may need an intervention.  But I know exactly how it would go.  You know, loved ones lure you somewhere and they have a trained interventionist to facilitate the intervention.  And I would walk in and of course just KNOW that it was an intervention.  I mean Hello!  You walk in and everyone sitting there is holding a piece of paper that starts out, "Dear Sabrina, You know how much I love you, and that is why it is so hard for me to talk about this.  You have a problem.  You are obsessed with ruffles..."

Then everyone goes around the room and reads their letters and the whole time I'm thinking "man I am so glad it's just me and party girl Vicki in the house.  These people are bringing me down."  And I will flat out tell you that if it isn't a tough love interventionist?  Pff.  Peace out!  I have more tulle at home!

Alas I must finish.  Because next I'm making a coat for spring (if it ever actually gets here) and I need Victoria for it.  This is a nice coat.  Hence the more formal moniker of Victoria will be used.  Right now though?  It's back to obsessing about completing phase two paperwork of applying for disability.  I would so much rather focus my attention elsewhere.  Oh wait, I am.