A few lovely folk have offered alternate Wednesday games to play.
Amy's playing on my fridge & Fi's offered "What I'm wearing". I'm going with what I'm wearing because I LOVE what I'm wearing today. I opped (thrifted) this shirt from St Vinnies in Kew! It's gorgeous (although the buttons do tend to pop open at their whim). Ah well it's all foam these days anyway.
The best thing about this shirt is the dialogue that goes along with it...
Friend/Acquaintance/Stranger in the street: "Oooh I love your shirt." Me: "Isn't it fabulous. It was $2 at Vinnies."
Totally classless I know but I do wear my Op Shopping heart on my sleeve & bargains are like badges of honour.
Finally, how good does my freshly rendered wall look?
Mum’s woken me up and made sure I’m dressed in my very best outfit.It’s a pale pink suede A line skirt with a raspberry coloured love heart pocket. The matching waistcoat is getting a bit small and is starting to pinch my underarms when I walk. The pinching reminds me that soon I will be too big to wear it – I don’t complain.
My hair is brushed and plaited. The plaits are thick and tight and even. I stretch myself so that I can check my appearance in the mirror. I feel a bit sorry that my hair elastics look so bad. I wish that I had some raspberry ribbon to cover the frayed ends of the hat elastic cut and tied by mum in haste one morning.
We make it to Tullamarine with time to spare and I swing and climb on the guard rail in the entrance hall.
Finally, Non comes through the doors from customs, I can’t remember what she’s wearing but her smile is almost as big as her suitcase. I’m so excited to see her, she’s been away far too long. She cups my face in her hands and then plants a kiss on my cheek and gives me a giant squeeze.
We struggle to the car with the suitcase. I’m trying hard not to imagine the presents inside that case. I don’t want to seem rude.
When we arrive home Mum puts the kettle on and Non sets to work unlocking the suitcase and sifting through her clothes and shopping. There are plenty of international treats for everyone. The clothes and dolls are lovely but what I’m aching for is a tiny little package. I’m starting to feel anxious. I can’t see anything small enough to be a charm.
Non carefully unfolds one of her jumpers and pulls out a little package wrapped in tissue. She presses it into my palm and tells me the story of how she selected the charm and then negotiated and finally purchased the little cupid in Rome.
This little thing will be taken by Non to Precious Metals and soldered to my bracelet alongside the other charms that have been gifted to me from places far away. I resolve it that moment to have charm bracelets for my own grand daughters.
I bought this shirt from my favourite Op Shop a few weeks ago & I've hardly taken it off.
During the first week I wore it every day. It took until Day 5 for The Date to notice...
The original owner was a Guide with 3rd Canterbury & a patrol leader. She wasn't too flash with the needle & thread though (& hasn't achieved her needlework badge). The wonkiness of the shirt only makes me love it more.
I'm wearing a very official looking badge that really just says "I like to help", one of my swizzle rings, a great pair of Op Shopped jeans & a truly fabulous pair of French Op Shopped shoes.
Spent the day at Stitches & Craft helping out Fi, chatting to Justine & thinking that the crafty souls represented in the incubator had done us all proud. Nichola let me know that that vest I knitted out of denim had been sent down the runway in some serious high fashion style.
Not forgetting everyone's favourite aunty. I touched her stuff!
When I chop onions I cry, I have tears streaming down my face.
To combat this problem I started wearing goggles. I look an absolute sight (I admit), but I'm much more about function than fashion. There's the added bonus of making the kids & The Date laugh.
At some stage during my goggle wearing & onion chopping I'd made a plan in my head to share my genius. I'd formulated a plan to sell these high fashion items. Of course I was going to muck around with the design & cute them up a bit.
Being the true procrastinator that I am I never did anything about it & continued to wear the goggles, and remain tear free.
A couple of weeks ago the date and I were at Shoppingtown. Walking past Matchbox I caught something pink and sunglassesish out of the corner of my eye. I knew what they were before I did the double take. Sure enough, there they were ... my onion goggles.
For a moment I felt a bit jealous. That coulda shoulda woulda been me.
Then I caught myself. The onion glasses genius actually got off their procrastinating butt and did something about it. Good on her/him.
I'm rather attached to the speedo goggles but I really think that people who make good on dreams and ideas should be rewarded. I'm going to buy a pair.
I’m lying on my tummy across the sofa. It’s one of those modular settings from the sixties. The legs are steel and the fabric is brown tweed with orange flecks. It smells a bit funky.
I’m wearing PJs bought from Myer in the previous school holidays. My socked feet are bouncing rhythmically against the wall furnace. They rest on the bars until the heat is too much to bear.
The curtains are drawn and Different Strokes is on the TV. It’s such a treat to be watching commercial tele. There’s a milky and very sweet coffee on the floor, tucked just beside the sofa leg.
Sitting beside me is my Non. She’s wearing an apron and too much perfume. The needles are out & she’s casting on a jumper (maybe for me). Two balls of Fantasy Eight knit together on big needles. It’ll be finished the next day.
Non’s needles flick at great speed, my feet bounce against the heater in time. The TV flicks too, but I don’t notice what Arnold is up to. I’m enjoying watching the knitting and chanting in my head “in, around, through and off”.
I feel the warmth of the heater and a room filled with love.
I hooked it like Michelle, Kate & Tania ... I'm way to slow on the sticks.
I followed Leonie's directions for the measuring but I left it a bit shy of where I want it to sit as I expect it to drop with wear over the next couple of days.
I'm calling it the Chameleon because it looks completely different in different light & depending what you're wearing underneath (or if you stand against a rust wall I've discovered).
Just as I did with the slashed vest, the armholes are set a little higher to give more flexibility. It can be worn upside down, inside out & round about. You can check that out here.
Details... Yarn - Cleckheaton Coutry Paintbox 8 ply Col: 31 Hook - 9mm (yep 9 - I was going for drape) Stitch - I used double crochet (Aus/UK) or US single crochet
Edited to add: I used 6 balls & my wrap was 23 inches x 34 inches
(or what goes around comes around). There's a photo of me aged 12 in our family photo album. It's 1986.
I'm sitting on a fence at Tooronga Zoo wearing Faberge Stretch Jeans, Dunlop Volleys, a sloppy t-shirt, a quilted jacket very similar to the one pictured & a rather awful sneer.
Apart from the quilted jacket which I'm yet to spy at Shoppo (but have seen glimpses of at Rummage), it could easily be a photo of my big girl. From a fashion only perspective though, she's always smiling.
Yep...we all know it's cyclical & I've got a fabulous leotard with built in overshirt I'm just dying to haul out of the dress up box.
