cardigans by miss w: too cool for straight cuts and seams.

I never used to wear or own white, because, I don't know if you've met me, but I spill and fall a lot. Also, as a teacher, sometimes I get so irritated by my students that I want to be as FAR AWAY FROM THEM as possible, which means leaning my back against the white board, which means I get whiteboard marker residue all over my clothes.

Then one day I bought a lovely sleeveless top that was on sale! But I can't wear sleeveless tops to work, so since the new-on-sale shirt had some white in it, I bought a full-price white cardigan to match it. I always get suckered into buying full price stuff to match my sale price stuff.

Then since I suddenly had a white cardigan, I found myself wearing it all the time! Like, all these outfits that looked really good with white cardigans. What had I been wearing them with before??? The mind wonders. Anyhow, the weather abruptly turned summerish over here in the north Island, so I can't wear a cardigan anymore because my classroom gets so hot I want to die. But I still have all these neat sleeveless tops that I still can't wear to work without something over top, so I thought to myself, "I should get a white t-shirt cardigan. That should be pretty easy to find, right?"

WRONG. I looked at all the places there are to buy clothes here, and couldn't find anything. (Times like this make me want to be Sabrina the Teenage Witch; remember in the opening credits how she changed and created outfits by magic? JEALOUS.) I was going to drive to Courtney, where there are more stores, until I googled "no sew cardigans" because I vaguely remembered such a thing from a long time ago.

And guys! Did you know that you can take a shirt and just cut it down the middle and have a cardigan? Well, you can. I found this old white long-sleeved t-shirt buried in my drawer, and cut it down the middle, and cut off the sleeves at the elbow, and BAM! Summer cardigan. I was so excited that I tried it on with a million outfits yesterday and now know what I'm going to wear every day this week.

Then, since I find anything new to like without becoming completely obsessed with it, I dug through a bag of clothes I was going to give away and made two more cardigans by cutting up shirts. I think I might take them to someone who has a sewing machine because I was so excited that I didn't really cut straight, but still! I made something really cool!

**ps: I forgot to mention that your shirts must be of fabric that doesn't fray, otherwise the whole thing will dissolve before you have a chance to show it off. All of my shirts were a cotton/spandex blend, which the internet told me will not fray. But it is the internet, so it might be wrong, so do your own research to make sure.

Now Included in the Experience: pictures of my genius
(Keep in mind that I'm terrible at modeling and taking pictures of myself. While you're keeping that in mind, pay attention to my fabulous skirt that you can see a bit of! I love my skirt.)

I didn't take "before" pictures, but I'm sure you can imagine it pieced together. I just cut down the middle, and chopped off the arms.

Instead of a useless shirt, now it is a lovely drapey summer cardigan! Also, look at my pretty skirt.

Close-up of my boob/the cutting to highlight the sub-par chop job. (Which is why when I wear it, it kind of folds over by my armpits.)

fly this blue ink across the page

I finally started my thirty days of creativity. I waited so long because I wanted to collect all the perfect ingredients for my first task, which took longer than expected. But now it's done! My first project, that is, and also my new blog. I started the other blog to force me into committing to the thirty days. I don't expect people to read it, really, unless you're into crafts or whatever, but I need some sort of accountability. I'm going to be doing actual crafts, as I mentioned, and also working on writing stuff again. It might be fun! So here you go:

All I've Got is Some Thread and This Pen.

Haunted by the Ghost of Satisfaction

I wish I was more creative. I am insanely, ridiculously, frog-green with envy over people who can draw or paint, and I believe I would give up any one of my few talents if it meant I could draw or paint. I started reading a blog by this lady who paints really neat stuff, and basically I wish I could assume her identity. I know there's that whole thing about loving yourself and your own talents, and everybody's good at something, and blah blah blah, but presently I am displeased with my skills and covet more interesting ones. Once upon a time I used to write stories, but somewhere back in the mists of time I feel that's been zapped away from me, and I'm hesitant to try again. However, on that lady's blog she talked about a 30 days of creativity challenge, and I'm going to give it a shot. Now all I need to do is legitimately do this thing in 30 days, not save up ideas for two months and then do it. I think that's cheating.

Moats and Boats and Waterfalls

There are two kayaks sitting in plastic in my garage. Little do they know, soon their insulated, calm world is going to be ripped from them and they are going to be tossed into a freezing cold body of water. It may take them a moment or so to adjust, but have no fear: they will learn to love the job they were made for.

You see, my mother and I are not foolish, and thus waited to use them until we could use them safely. Tonight was the final night of our kayaking course, and now we are informed and certified. I DID A WET EXIT FROM MY KAYAK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RIVER*. I have almost never been so proud of myself as I am right now. (There was that time I did the Grouse Grind. That was also very impressive of me.)

With that in mind, I have composed an ode to kayaking. Because I'm like that.

An Ode To Kayak

O kayak --
You challenge to mind and body
upper-arm-strength tester,
fear-of-sinking confronter;
stand faithfully beneath me,
patient as I tumble in
(and tumble out) -
bright red beacon of buoyancy.

O kayak --
o tow rope, o bilge pump,
o government-sanctioned whistle,
together we learn to scull,
to pry,
to draw.
Sun sets on water as I confidently guide you
forwards,
backwards,
and in circles.

O kayak --
you protect me from waves wrought
by drunk teenagers in a motorboat,
but not from the plague of mosquitoes
carried on the cool river breeze.
(I forgive you this trespass,
as you forgave when I accidentally ran you aground).

O kayak --
together we cut a silent path
through my doubts and lack of muscle tone
(but only in calm water, of course).


*(Wet exit = flip over kayak so you are upside down in the river, kick self out of kayak, emerge from river, turn kayak over, climb back in. I KNOW.)