I’ll throw this out there that I’m writing this post on Wednesday, but you are reading it on Friday. That whole post-dating stuff thing.
The trusty husband scheduled us for hair cuts today (Wednesday). Yesterday I was all excited about it. I haven’t had a haircut since August. Then this morning the boy climbed in bed with me and started to pet the cat. I was mostly asleep and didn’t notice. When I woke up I got distracted by making the boy’s lunch and forgot to take my allergy medication first thing. That path always leads to disaster. By the time I remembered to take my medicine it was too late.
All day long I’ve been in either a drug induced stupor or sneezing my head off. I’m pretty sure that I have worn off about 8 layers of skin off of my nose.
What does an allergy attack have to do with getting my hair cut? Nothing much really. Just that they happened in the same day and I had taken so much allergy medication that I nearly fell asleep in the chair.
Now if I were feeling better I would totally take a picture of my hair and show you how cute it is. Picture this:
Yeah… I’m hott like that. Keep picturing that I look like Jessica Alba and not rudolph the red nosed reindeer. Ok, my hair is not that blonde, but rather mostly my natural color with gold, blonde and red highlights with a little wash out purple underneath. It’s also a little shorter and I totally look like Jessica Alba.
I will freely admit that I love comments. It is a part of what keeps me going as a blogger. I get jealous of other bloggers who get 10, 20, 30+ comments on posts. Back in the day I got tons of comments. I do miss that.
When I (we) started blogging I (we) did it for our family. It was never about me. I wrote about our adoption process and how things were going. Writing about personal stuff just filled in the gaps and made the story more real. Then I started helping people. There were people who were starting the Russian adoption process and wanted to know how and what to do. I was very happy to help. Once we got the boy home I blogged to let people know how things were going. I’ve always tried to be real and in turn that helped other families know that they weren’t alone. So you see, comments are/were vital to who I am as a blogger.
I will also admit to being a very bad commenter myself. I read a ton of blogs, but comment on very few. Like you, I have little time. The addition of a very large puppy had even lessened my time in front of the computer. For that I apologize. Can we both try to do a little better m’kay?
Now that we’ve kissed and made up a little, here’s a little story (and the reason I still blog).
———————
As you know I’m a crafty sort of gal. In the various and assorted crafty type things I do, I sew. I taught myself how to using my grandmother’s sewing machine when I was in middle school. I got my first sewing machine when we lived in Kansas and I’m on my 3rd one now. A few years ago I thought I’d foray into clothing making. I made a skirt for the insurance fancy dinner and it turned out wearable.
In the last year I’ve started making other clothing from actual patterns. Prior to the this (and that one skirt) I have stuck to stuffed animals, halloween costumes and quilts. I know how to sew, I have very little money to purchase new clothing… logically, I could sew my own clothing, right? Sure.
Late summer I purchased about 5 patterns and a whole ton of fabric to start a nice fall wardrobe. Stuff I could wear to church or work. Everything would go together. I would be set. I set off to make my first blouse and got 90% completed with it (including zipper) and tried it on. A little boob smashy to say the least. I looked at the pattern envelope and couldn’t figure out what the issue was. I was making a pattern for my size… right? I then whipped out the tape measure and holy mary mother of bejebus! I’m fat! According to the pattern envelope. Sure, I’ve let myself go a little bit, but oh hells no. My measurements were such that the largest size on the pattern wouldn’t even fit. I had to go back and buy more fabric and a new pattern.
Round 2… a shirt that fit (kind of, but I still wear it). Will I show you a photo of myself in it, maybe, but only if I’m drunk and that doesn’t happen very much anymore (I had a bad experience).
After shirt fiasco #1 & #2 I put the patterns and fabric away. This week I was cleaning out a cupboard and found the patterns and fabric. I had also gone shopping at the mall for stuff for the boy and couldn’t go into any of the stores that I like because I didn’t have money to buy anything for myself and I was depressed, but wanted new clothes to make me feel better, and then I got more depressed and so the cycle continued. So it was sort of fortuitous that I found all of this stuff. Because this time I’d be careful and not screw up.
Also, I got a new toy. A free serger. There is a whole other story about the serger (which consequently is the story I intended to tell with this post, but the shirt story is way better so I’ll tell you the serger story later this week and then we can draw this out and I’ll have more to write about and you’ll have more opportunities to tell me what a dumbass I am). So I carefully cut the fabric for a new blouse I was going to make. It took me an hour just to lay out the fabric. It was a silky fabric that is a pain to work with. I got the pieces cut and I started to put said blouse together (cursing the whole way because of my fabric choice). I tried on the blouse a few times to make sure it fit properly. It was a little big, but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad. Then I tried to put the collar and facing on. It was a cowl neck blouse with long open ended sleeves. I am a visual person and the pictorial representation of how to attach the collar and the words didn’t match up. I punted (into the far left bleachers). It was ok, It was still wearable.
Then I got handy. It was a silky fabric that was unravelling slightly as I put the whole thing together. Never fear! I have a new serger. I am also a glutton for instant gratification. Of course the free serger came with free thread. Of course the free thread didn’t match the fabric of the blouse. Who cares. It’s just finishing interior seams. No one will notice. I finished up my blouse. It needed a little modification because of my fat factor over estimating the size. The collar wasn’t that bad, it was a little long (long tunic length), it was ok. I would wear it dammit… I made it.
The next day I got dressed for work and put on my new blouse. I second guessed myself a little. I wasn’t sure what people would think. Oh there goes crazy Elle again wearing stuff that she really shouldn’t. I didn’t care. I would wear my new blouse proudly. Then I went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. I lifted up my arm to put on my make-up and sho nuff, that shirt would be coming off. Those open ended sleeves? Yeah, you could see the serger stitching. Wouldn’t be so bad except my shirt was a dark olive green and the serger thread was red and navy.
In the end, I made world’s ugliest shirt. And that is why I blog. To tell dumb on myself.
I’ve come to a recent revelation that I’ve gotten fat. Of course fat is pretty relative. Let’s just say that, for me, I’ve gotten fat. I used to be verging on the edge of size 4. In the 3 years since I’ve started eating again, or otherwise known as I’ve become a parent, I’ve grown to a healthy size 10. 40 pound my friends, 40 pounds. Where does that weight go? My ass.
Trouble is, my entire wardrobe was purchased way back in the day when I had money. Meaning, before I had a child. Now that my ass is the size of Rhode Island I have approximately 4 pair of pants that fit. Ok, 5, but that would mean that I have to actually dry clean that 5th pair instead of ignoring them in the bottom of my hamper.
The answer to this problem seems simple. I have 2 options really. Option #1, buy new pants. Option #2, exercise to fit into the pants that I currently own. However, I like to do things the difficult way and I went with Option #3. Make new clothes. Hey, I have a sewing machine and have made a few things here and there*. How hard could it be?
So the other day I set out to find a few patterns and some fabric. I spent a good 2 child free hours in the fabric store the other morning and purchased 2 patterns (with multiple patterns and sizes in them) and coordinating fabric to make a few separates. My intention was to make 2 blouses, 1 skirt and a pair of pants. What I failed to do was measure myself prior to leaving the house. I looked at the patterns and instead of looking at the measurements I went by size. As I mentioned before I fit nicely into a size 10, and I’m ok with that. I purchased my patterns accordingly. This is where things went drastically downhill.
My first attempt at clothes making was going to go to Simplicity Pattern #2764 look B. The blouse. I read the back of the envelope and nearly died when my bust measurement didn’t even register on the scale for the pattern I purchased. Truly I needed the next pattern up. I thought I’d trick the pattern makers and instead of cutting the pattern apart I traced the pattern onto a new sheet of tissue paper so I could later reuse the pattern for additional blouses or the jacket. I was thinking. I also thought that since my bust was larger than the largest pattern indicated that I would just make the largest size to be safe. In fact that sentence should have said, I got back in the car and exchanged the pattern for a bigger size. Not so much.
I spent 2 days working on a blouse in a beautiful soft red silk. I put in an invisible zipper. I had to totally tear out a sleeve because I sewed it backwards. I worked on it for 2 days. Yesterday afternoon I tried it on to measure for the hem and damn it if I could barely get the thing on. I wanted to cry. What was worse… I could barely get it off. It was so damn discouraging.
The thing that kills me is that I wasted money on the pattern (which I cannot return because I used highlighter on the instructions and envelope) and the fabric. I hate wasting money. There is something to be said for going to the store and walking out with clothing that mostly fits.
I simply don’t understand why pattern makers insist on putting “sizes” on things. Why not just put the measurements? Because let’s face it. If I am going to make the pants from the other pattern I need a 22W for them to fit right. If I went into a store and purchased a size 22W pants you could fit 2 of me in there. Why doesn’t it match? Is it that pattern makers want to make us feel terrible or that clothing manufacturers want to blow smoke up our asses to make us feel good. I would put money on the latter.
I’m trying to get over the size thing. It’s just a number and as long as the clothing fits what’s the difference?
So it is off to the fabric store again tomorrow. Wish me luck.
———————————-
*I made the bee costume the boy is wearing in that main photo
Ok Ladies, I’m in need of some beauty advice. Today’s topic, foundation.
I have a long history with foundation. I’ve tried many a brands, but nowadays there seems to be more and more cropping up. I thought I was happy with the foundation that I was wearing, but with the attention span that I have I thought I might try something new. I gave up my beloved Maybelline Dream Matte Mousse for the Almay Smart Shade. That didn’t work so well. I didn’t like the fact that it made my face feel sticky. From there I went to Maybelline Dream Liquid Mousse. That’s ok, but it seems to slide off after a few hours and also my face has been feeling a might greasy by the end of the day. I don’t know if that is heat related or makeup, but today it didn’t break 70 degrees and I’m still a giant grease ball.
In the past I’ve tried Mary Kay Medium Coverage. I liked that, but I’m quite forgetful and often don’t realize I need more makeup until I’m out of it. So ordering was a bit of a problem. I also used Bare Minerals for a while (when you still had to order it over the internet) and I loved that. Then all of a sudden I started getting what looked like giant hives on my face. Burning itching welts. It may be that I was using a new moisturizer or it was the Mary Kay face cleaner I was using or something totally un makeup related, but I quit with everything for a while.
There have been a few other store brands in there, but I’ve lost track of what I’ve tried and not. But here is where I need your help. What is working for you guys? I have slightly oily skin with small breakouts here and there. I have a line across the middle of my forehead that any kind of makeup seems to wedge its way into and make it scream “LOOK! I’m getting OOOOOLD.” I’d like to cover that up a bit. I have dark circles under my eyes. Totally from not sleeping and that getting old thing. I also have a freckled face that I’d like the even the pigmentation of out a bit. Basically, I need a miracle. Help me.
I think I should just post more photos. Or participate in photo challenges more often. Then you’ll comment right? Thanks for the compliments on the flower photos. That is something that comes very easy to me. Taking photos of people, not so much. One such person I’ve tried to photograph is myself. I have to say one does not always get the most flattering photos of themselves.
I wanted to do justice to my new haircut and the only way to do that is outside. Taking photos in the bathroom mirror is one thing, but a photo outside with nothing? Ha! It just so happens that my little house came with a giant mirror sitting in the shed. Not knowing what to do with a giant mirror I put it behind the potting bench in said shed and promptly forgot about it until today. My garden is pretty enough so I set up the mirror in the garden and tried taking photos of myself. The first ones didn’t turn out that great, but after a while and a few hundred shots of the child to test it out I got the hang of it.
So just for a refresher here’s what my nappy hair looked like before.
And here is what it looks like after.
I did go back to the lady who has cut my hair for years. I’m so glad I did. It took her 2 hours to complete the whole thing and in the end I only paid $75. I took all 4 of the photos I let you guys vote on and basically they were all the same cut just styled a little different in each. As far as color goes, we thought about Jens’ suggestion of strawberry blonde, but when holding up the color sample to my face it made me look very yellow. My skin has a yellow cast to begin with. Instead we settled on keeping it what is essentially my natural color and adding low (burgundy) and hi (gold and blonde) lights in it. Right now the burgundy is very purple, but will fade to more of an orangish cast (not in a babushka way though).
I have to say I love it. It has been many years since I’ve had my hair this short. In fact, I’ve had it shorter. I’m not sure what it is, but having my hair this short is rather freeing. The whole rest of the day I felt like a load had been lifted off of my shoulders. It’s silly to think that hair can do such a thing, but for me having a little bit of a funky off the wall hair cut is very much me. A part of me that has been missing for a very long time. I haven’t smiled like this in… well, since the Russians stole my soul.
