Stay or go? Part 3: Lazy Sunday

I’m exhausted.

I just spent several weeks rehearsing and finally performing in a stage production with Crystal Bright and the Silver Hands. This show brought together dozens of awesome people that I want to be friends with forever. I saw (and heard) some amazing works of art, and got to cross “Perform on stage” off my list of things to do before I die. This adventure culminated in a three-day show, for which I ended up making my own costume from scratch in less than a week. I played the main character’s sinister toy lamb, one of the characters to comfort her throughout her fairytale-like ordeals. Now that it’s over, I can finally relax and be a lump for a little while. But what  to wear?

Sweatpants are sad, lifeless garments. You wear them in bed, or working out, or possibly to school. If you’re short like me, you probably have to scrunch them up and leave marks on your ankles, and yet you wear them anyway. Even though they’re generally too hot, people claim they’re comfortable. Look at this:

They’re like deflated stuffed animals. Dead, deformed beasts found in Montauk would look away. They possess about a tenth the majesty of two mating slugs. So I propose that we replace them with yoga pants. They’re more comfortable, easier to hem, and make it look almost like you plan on doing something with your day.

See these? They’re like sweatpants in disguise. The swingy velvet ones are borderline cute.

Yes, you may have to hem them. But with fine knits, a zig-zag or overlock stitch will be all it takes.Most sewing machines include at least one overlock stitch, which requires a special foot. The stitch will usually look like a cross between a zig-zag and a straight stitch. Slash your pants to the desired length, stitch around the edge and bingo, they’re perfect.

Go forth and be lazy.

(Incidentally, the shirts I’m wearing are a teaser for my next post. Stay tuned.)

Stay or go? Part 2: Old-n-Busted vs. New Hotness

I like dresses. They’re fancy, quick to put on, and still allow for a nice breeze now and again. Unfortunately, they also get caught on things, stained, stepped on, or ripped. Pretty as they are, the dresses on this list have been heavily worn, and it shows. I’m sure I’ll accumulate many more, but for now I’ve pared it down to a choice few.

Going:

This one I’ve had for so long I broke the straps twice. This could be attributed to the flimsiness of noodle straps, but I like to think it’s due to my TOTALLY HARDCORE LIFESTYLE. Ahem.

This one has belonged to my sister or I for over six years. The knit fabric is thicker and sturdier than most. I thought briefly about keeping it and adding modifications, but the neckline is warped and the material has been bleached a little more than I would like.

This one, believe it or not, is fine. However, my rule for keeping clothes is that I have to be able to style it three ways I would actually wear, and a sheer purple tunic can’t deliver for me.

I am not fond of tunic tops. They possess the inconvenience of dresses, with the added benefit* of requiring pants. Eeevil.

I liked this one while it lasted. Its thin material showed off every jiggle and bump in bizarre ways, but it was thin and pleasant in the hot North Carolina summer. Now it’s threadbare, and feels revealing and childish at the same time. Ew.

I adore the cut on the strapless bodice here. I modeled the bodice on this dress after it. However, the skirt’s too high and cannot be walked in without its sky-high slit. I can appreciate turning heads now and again, but that’s just too much.

This dress has been a nineties nightmare. It’s stiff and shapeless, has a giant, zippered kangaroo pocket, and cannot be taken in without looking worse. Also, why on earth was I so obsessed with military olive?

I got this dress at 7, and was still wearing it at 15. Eek. I wore it so much I drew myself in it when I wanted a self portrait. Now that I’m three years older, I’ve decided I don’t want people thinking I’m an early-blooming elementary schoolkid. Who’d have thought?*

There’s not much to say about this one, really. It didn’t fit anyone in the house, and yet we clung to it in case we suddenly radically changed body type. Not worth it.

This one was alright in cut and color, but the material was strange in a bad way. I also had another I liked better.

Now let’s see the ones I’m keeping.

Staying:

I’m not sure what distracted me.

Well-fitting, suitable to wear for most of the year, and it has pintucks and pockets. Win.

Why yes, this is a mumuu. It’s also buttery-soft, lightweight, and blousy but short at the same time. Excellent.

Do I even need to say it? I paid $2 for a close-fitting, 100% cotton, in-your-face eighties piece of magic. I rated the dresses above on a scale of one to this dress. Wonderful.

(*) Denotes sarcasm.

Coming up next: Things to replace those old sweatpants, followed by the big reveal of everything I’ve gotten rid of so far.

Stay or go? Short-neutral-toned skirt edition.

I have too many clothes. I’m not what I’d call a “shopaholic,” by any stretch of the imagination, but I don’t get rid of enough. Many of my clothes are from a time when I was insecure, and many others just don’t work for me even though they technically fit. My sister is reducing the size of her wardrobe, and I wanted to try a different approach. Behold my many short skirts:

This one is a hand-me-down from sometime in the nineties, like a lot of my clothes. It’s  also unwearable. Note the semi-formal fabric and dress code-violating length.

This one is similarly problematic. I’m not sure I’ve ever worn it. It was originally handed over to my sister, who didn’t like or fit it.

This one, however, is too casual and it looks rather tired. Unlike the others, it was comfortable enough to be worn over and over again until it became a shadow of its former self.

This one is just unpleasant. It’s too short (And the constant creases make it shorter), too bulky and rather bleh.

This one is the last survivor from my middle school collection of teensy plaid skirts. It was a bit longer than the others, and so had an excuse to stay. It is, however, definitely the skirt of a 12-year-old girl.

All of these can be replaced easily by pants or the skirt I showed you last time. Fabulous.