I forbid myself to start any new sewing projects.
After a few weeks of overloading my inspiration sewing what felt like a thousand new items. I had to slow down, once more. And because I don’t seem to understand the concept of “just a little bit”. That meant all or nothing; too much sewing or no sewing at all.
No more projects.
I took a few turns around my boxes of fabrics. Lurking around them like a kid that trying to see through the wrapping of the Christmas presents under the tree. Well knowing that it isn’t the time yet to see what is inside. But not able to resist the temptation either.
Eventually I opened the boxes, just to get overwhelmed by a flood of ideas rolling over me, with all the fabric I had forgotten about. Now I remembered why I didn’t want myself to sew anything at all.
But as the night is getting long and the bottle of wine emptier, I miss something to do with my hands as I follow the conversation. Not a “new project”. Just an occupation on the side, something to keep me in the here and now, phisically. Something that goes with the burning fire, the wine, the long winter evenings.
A beautiful jacket I found in Italy.
Made by hand, no tags. I imagine the tailor who must have made it a few decades ago, measuring it to the size of the woman who wore it out and about.
Cropping the jacket because I want to give it a new look.
At least three evenings I am placing one stitch after the other to create a new hem around the waist. Resize the lining.
Pinning followed by endless stitching.
Three days later I hold in my hands the result of three evenings, three bottles of wine and about thirty logs of burning wood.
Thanks for stopping by, have a lovely Monday!
All photos and words are my own taken and written by myself ©kesityu.