It’s probably no surprise that I’ve always dreamed of being an expert seamstress. Okay, maybe the word, “always,” is stretching it a bit. To rephrase, it’s probably no surprise that every time I flip through fashion magazines and see clothes I have absolutely no hope of ever owning…due to a serious lack of monetary funds…I wish I was more capable with my sewing machine. I want to clarify that this last statement doesn’t mean I have no abilities when it comes to sewing. However, I have to admit that my talents lie in the more, “artsy/craftsy,” realms, rather than professional tailored pieces. However, I am fortunate enough to have an extremely talented mom that can handle those types of projects for me. As a side note, I must now brag about the pair of pants my mom just finished making for me. Let me tell you, "these babies are amazing!" I simply showed her a picture from, “Vogue,” of what I wanted and she cranked out the most adorable pair of pants I’ve ever owned in my life. Of course my original intention was to have this big unveiling of them through a blog post, however these pants deserve some pregame hype. I seriously can’t wait to wear them out on the town!
“Whew,” okay that was exciting. Returning to the topic at hand, I find it an unfortunate occurrence that my own mother can design and execute an outstanding piece of clothing and all I can seem to do is put patches on things. I guess it’s a darn good thing I’m naturally drawn to the Boho trend, otherwise I’d be pretty underwhelmed by the hodge-podge designs I constantly come up with. The fantastic thing about patchwork is it can be a crazy crapfest of color and design and still look totally intentional. In addition, the other convenient thing about patchwork is there seems to be no standard of quality. In fact, the less professional these projects appear the more legitimate their Boho credibility becomes. In other words, it’s okay for a hippie’s clothes to be trashed.
The pictures above display an example of some of my sewing handiwork. I bought these thrift store shorts many years ago and decided to soup them up with a random selection of fabric I had lying around my craft room. If one was to look closely at these shorts they would notice a lot of ragged edges, crooked stitching, and even some rather shoddy fabric bunching. However, I would argue the lack of my expertise simply makes these shorts better. I guarantee my amateur abilities definitely make this piece one of a kind…
…except, this one trick pony has two more pairs of shorts that are fearfully similar. In addition, I have several jeans and many coats and blazers I’ve put patches on. Could it be that I’m that excited about patchwork, or is it simply my sewing skills limit me to this one look.
Sitting here now, gazing over at my old issues of fashion magazines, I find myself sighing at the idea of all of the illusive clothing I’ll never own. I daydream about sitting down at my sewing machine and designing my perfect, one of a kind, wardrobe. Suddenly I wonder, "why I can’t have it?" I grit my teeth and think, “You know what Rayna, you can totally have it! Now sit down and figure out these freaking instructions!” I start to cut out my patterns and notice Cheetos have a nasty habit of staining paper. I pull out my supplies and consider for a moment that the, "wad," method is possibly not the best for storing fabric. I start to load my bobbin and realize I have a nasty knot halfway through…good thing I can just cut off the string and continue loading straight over that mess. All the while I’m wondering why Nag Champa dust is covering every surface of my craft room. Yes, I simply cannot fathom why I can’t produce a quality piece of clothing? Luckily, I have hope that even the dirtiest hippie can be taught to clean up by her mother.