on trying to fit in

oh hai.

the other day, ruggy and i went to our favorite coffee shop in all the land, silverlake's intelligentsia.  non, it doesn't sound right to call it a coffee shop, it's a coffee gallery.  artist baristas and hip things of all ages join to celebrate caffeine.

non, that's not right either.  one doesn't celebrate here (and by here i mean los angeles), one is cool and aloof and decidedly bored with it all.  for the most part, it's not stylish to show your colors, inside and out.  as we sipped our macchiato and chai latte with delight (the cup was the size of my HEAD), i took note of the line of angels waiting their turn.  it looked like someone took the desaturation brush in photoshop, bumped the level up to a thousand, and gave them all a good swipe.  i'm telling you, not a color to be seen.  the clothing was bland, the mood was beige.

     

i might be the brightest thing in here, i said.  ruggy's sarcastically raised eyebrow assured me that i was.  

(at the time i was not wearing this top.  but i was wearing a maxi skirt striped in lemon yellow, royal purple, hot pink and lime green; a chartreuse cardigan, and a sky blue tee.  speaking of colorful garments, this top was a creation meant for debi's second sew grateful, which i completely missed.  i used vogue 7016 from lisette's amazing box of patterns, and the fabric and button are gifts from ruggian sister, she who has carte blanche in my sewing room.  i used self made bias for the neck closure, and overlocked rolled hems.  which apparently, i've been using on EVERYTHING.  ellie was hiding a little bar from me which produces lovely flat serged edges.   found that out four days before i left her in new york.  awesome.)

what is it that makes us afraid to show our colors?  why would you want to hide your glee over the perfect cup of coffee, the excitement over good conversation, the bright flamingo pink you love to wear?

i'm not saying everyone should wear flamingo pink.  washed out midnight blue is perfectly lovely.  but washing out your personality for the sake of looking cool is Fucked.  Up.    

i turn my back on you, aloof.

speaking of joy, i was pretty psyched when i downloaded this shot.  i was all i'm totally channeling casey here.  i've got bloggers on the brain, tonight i'm heading back out to the lake of silver for sarai's party at sew LA, and then hopefully catching another round of new friend goodness after.  are you going?  if you are, i will say hello with unabashed glee and in technicolor!

what color have you got on today?

my featherweight can sew ANYTHING

most interesting google search that lead four people to this blog:

"my elbows are dark."

okay.  c'est true.  they are.  so are my knees.  i'm currently employing a salt scrub twice a day in an effort to annihilate a layer of skin on the pointy parts of my limbs.  (and if the four of you out there found a solution that doesn't involve bleach, let a girl know, 'kay?)

other peeps with an eye on this blog: some wicked weather fairies.  temperatures dropped 20 degrees after i mouthed off about poolside shoots.  sorry los angeles, my bad.  we had a chilly valentine's day with roast chicken and buffy the vampire slayer.  last night, after a two-and-a-half-hour sixteen mile drive (truly, i was certain i would never see the outside of a car again), i arrived home to the scent of rosemary and thyme drenched in chicken fat, and my featherweight had been decorated with tulips and chocolates.  shortly after, my man was decorated in a da beard hat, which he hasn't taken off since last night.

i hope you had a wonderful valentine's day!

there's a light

this was the early morning sunshine in our wintry tree, the day we left new york.  i thought the light on the branches was breathtaking. 

yeah, well.  it's really hard to write a post about the glory of a boxed-in crack-of-dawn view of a barren january tree blocked by iron bars and dirty snow when the sun is shining directly in your face as you sit poolside in the 80 degree air.  

(besides which, the screen is just so glary in the LA sunshine.  they oughta have an app for that.)

sorry for the absence, we've been unpacking and getting used to the new digs.  california is EVER so much nicer when you swap joints with someone who has a pool, jacuzzi, and sauna.  here's hoping our wee tree and wine refrigerator make up for it. this weekend, i'll be attempting a poolside Real Live Photo Shoot as evidence of the four tons of garments i made before leaving the city, three for the worldwide party that is debi's sew grateful celebration and one of which is an oona does it (!).  but don't hold me to it.  the sun could get in the way.

don't hate me too much, i forgot my adjustable low shank zipper foot in new york.  

it's just a phase

i made a flow chart.  kinda.

so yeah, i've been thinking my creativity is directly linked to my uterus.  peeps of the female persuasion, do you find this to be true?  during the ovulatory phase, i'm literally going full blast.  that's right about now.  been sewing up a storm against kenny's will.   stand back, citizens.  my body has decided if it's not making babies, it's sure as hell making clothing.  oh, i have so much to show you!  to wit:  one skirt!  two tops!  THREE DRESSES!  all patiently waiting for the move and a sunny backyard!

it's rocking in kalkatroona.  but i know the end of the luteal phase is coming, when hormones give the order to commence preparations for le Time Of The Month.  during those days, i'll pick up fabrics and match them with patterns, disgusted at my pairings, or try to drape something that quickly becomes a miserable mess, or hell, maybe just attempt a tracing, but none of these suddenly rocky paths will lead to mecca.  my brain comes back when the cycle begins again.  i guess it's really about three days out of the month where i'm sunk (and this is not my actual period, it's the time just before it; my period ROCKS, y'all, i want to shout it from the rooftops).

luckily, during this particular post ovulatory meltdown i'll be on a plane and then unpacking, so no botched projects for me this month.

what about you?  does yo pre-flow slow yo roll?

spotted on spring and lafayette

WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS.

i kind of love it.

thoughts?

edit: SCORE. a lovely anonymous commenter says this glory is courtesy of the peeps at l'asso nyc, who implore you to "eat the pizza! drink the beer!"  ooh i like these people.  i hope we get to gorge before we leave.  and... THEY SELL T SHIRTS.  you can have a different version of tom selleck on this one, and i so totally need this masked avenger.  thanks anonymous masked friend!