How to make a Pink Ladies jacket

They say the most stressful things in life are getting married,  moving house and starting a new job.  Well in the past 4 months I've done two, and as I'm already married, I suspect Hubby would be rather alarmed if I'd made the hat-trick! Running around putting offers on houses, and learning new routes to work are firmly my excuses for not keeping up the blogging schedule. But this weekend Hubby and I agreed to take sometime for ourselves... 

I love fancy dress, but I do find that pulling off the perfect costume can end up really rather pricey,  and as first time buyers with an offer accepted on a property, money is a real issue. The theme is 'America' (a friend is emigrating) so I decided to raid my nearest charity shop for inspiration...

Hunting for anything that could be adapted into cheerleader/cowgirl/American football outfit I came upon a really lovely vintage blouse... and all modern interpretations of America were cast aside.  With the help of a little customisation I'm going to channel one of the cult images of 50s America.

The Pink Ladies were a group of Girl-Friends. Street-wise, confident, sassy, hopelessly flawed - and likely burst into a spontaneous song and dance routine.

Take one vintage blouse:

Add some sequins, a bit of fabric glue and some more sequins:

Team with a trusty Little Black Dress, big hair, vintage sunglasses (again charity shop find, £1.99) and some bright red lips - Et voilà! Grease is the word!

Total  spend:

- Blouse: £8
- Fabric glue: £3
- Sequins: 70p

I'll make sure to tweet the full ensemble once the glue has dried!

Why We Painted an Apron

This year Hubby and I decided that we needed to be frugal for Christmas.  Initially it was because we thought we'd be starting a family, and then because we thought we'd be moving.  Now it's because we want to be able to do both of those things in the future... and let's be honest, money is tight.

This autumn I went a bit mad for making jam.  Hubby and I spent most weekends arms deep in brambles harvesting berries, so we thought it would be a lovely token to give our homemade conserve... but for our nearest and dearest a little pot just didn't seem "big" enough.  So we got creative, and made something extra to make the gift of jam, just a bit more "gifty."

Christmas presents this year aren't expensive.  But they are brimming with love, time, care and attension.  We're giving a little gift basket of jam and a personalized apron. 

Hand-painted apron

To make your own apron you will need:

• Cotton Apron
• Paintbrush
• DYLON fabric paint or pens
• Iron

Luckily for me Hubby is a dab hand at art (you may have gathered that fine detail isn't a strong point of mine), so whilst he set to work creating some bespoke patterns based on our relative's initials and things that are important to them, I hit the internet and found some wholesale aprons for less than £4 each.

 1.  Iron the apron to remove the wrinkles.  You'll want it to be as flat as possible for painting

 

 2.  Once you've settled on your pattern, carefully sketch it on with a soft pencil - you can skip this step if you're confident, but Hubby likes being precise.

 3.  Simply paint in your pattern using the fabric paints.  They work just like normal paints, but be careful not to have too much water on your brush or the paints will run down the fabric (yep, we learned the hard way...).  Don't worry about the paint going hard, or that you can still see the pencil marks, all will be alright in the end.

4.  When you're happy with your creation leave it to dry.

5.  Iron your painted apron again with a very hot iron.  Make sure you put a piece of cotton, or tea towel in between the iron and your painting otherwise you'll end up in a bit of a mess.

6.  Once ironed your masterpiece is fixed in place.  Pop in the washing machine to remove the pencil marks and to soften any hard paint, and you're done!

This is one we did for my Sister-In-Law who's a tech-whiz... and likes roses.  Hubby's a clever stick.

I want to be a crafter

It had taken me 18 months to find it, but when I entered the cavernous expanse I knew my quest was over. From wall to ceiling the room glittered with treasure, and there was a strangely familiar musty smell.  I darted about, stroking different items, picking up little items the caught my eye before carefully replacing them.  It was oddly magical.

I really didn't know where to look next, my eyes tried to drink in all the buttons, fabrics and threads as my mind raced through all the creative possibilities.  Purple spiderweb fabric for Halloween, rolls of fleece begging to be made into ponchos, tapastries, jumpers, hats, cardigans to be crafted from the mountains of wool and thread... I wanted to try my hand at it all!

Except I can't. I don't know where to start.

My mum is the needleworker in my family, she'll put darts in dresses, take up trousers and re-line curtains without a second thought.  I can just about stitch on a button and sew over the holes in my leggings...
I don't remember her actually doing it, but I remember certain jumpers I had as a child and knowing my mum had made them. But my Mum never taught me to knit.  She says that as a child I showed no interest (I was a stubborn little thing), but yesterday my mind was itching with the creative possibilities, but it's not just my lack of skill just let's me down.  I'm worried about making something, or starting to, and giving up before I'm finished. My self confidence (or lack of it) tells me I'll fail before I even start.

My Mum has always been a perfectionist.  She'd never admit it, but at the same time she'd stay up all night crafting the perfect curtain-tops.  She puts herself under so much pressure to achieve perfection that it no longer looks fun.  Maybe that's why I never showed any interest as a youngster. I worried that just having a go wouldn't be good enough... And besides, there was always my Mum to do things for me...
But as an adult things need to change.  Hubby and I decided yesterday that we won't be returning to the West Country to start a family.  I won't have my Mum on hand to offer to take in school trousers, I need to know that I can do it myself.

So I'm setting myself a challenge. Before the end of the year I'm going to make myself a hooded poncho. It's not hard from what I gather, but it will be a big step for me.

All I need to do now is buy the fabric, and know that trying is the first step.

Why I want a duvet cocoon...

Do you ever notice how time just dribbles past when you want the day to move on?

I'm normally a fan of Fridays, the weekend is just around the corner, its the one chance to get all your work finalised ready for a fresh working week come Monday.  But this Friday, the whole day has been like walking though sludge.

I don't know if the Hubby and I are still pulling ourselves together from last week, but the effort of simply getting out of the bed this morning was a challenge.  We both snoozed the alarms (we have three), we rolled over, we flipped back the covers, we even got as far as sitting up... but our energy levels remained rock bottom.   We flopped around on top of the duvet for a good 20 minutes, before I dragged myself to the bathroom.  I was even weighing up whether I could get away without any makeup, just to squeeze an extra 5 minutes from my wannabe-lie-in.

And that's just followed me throughout the day.

I'm happy to keep working - I've got lots to do, plenty to keep me busy, but I keep dreaming of building a duvet-nest under my desk, snuggling down propping my laptop on my lap and working in a fluffy cocoon.  Hardly professional though.  And I'm sure my colleagues would soon be jealous.

Maybe I'm simply craving some space, some downtime where my thoughts are my own?  Some people might interpret my desire to hide away is me putting up emotional walls, but I don't think that's the case.  I used to write poetry as a teenager (who didn't), and I was always inspired by night - even if it wasn't the topic of my writing, curled up in bed was always when my thoughts moved most freely.  For the last week or so I've read a lot about how I should be feeling, and even before that people have been offering advice on what to do, or how to be.  My body still isn't my own, it's settling back into it's own rhythms, and so I suspect I want something to be wholly mine...

How do you claim time for yourself?