Couture Lunacy

Exploring Fashion One Thread At A Time


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I want you all to picture me pulling my hair out. I am still in the middle of the sewing block from hell. Now I’ve decided I want to use the “blond” faux leather to make a jacket with a zipper. Hah. Unfortunately I do not have a pattern for a jacket with a zipper – except for a hoodie. Maybe I could use that – but not the look I’m going for.

So fuss fuss fuss – I’m making myself seriously annoyed just deciding what to do. Until I can decide, I’m not starting anything. Which is the opposite of what I think I want to do.

Moan. When I am in the zone – I’m happy as a clam. When I am not – oomph God you wouldn’t want to be around me at all. Mopey. Definitely mopey.

I’m going to go back into that room and only one of us is going to come out ——– the one in a good mood – not the mopey one.


Author: Jennifer

I came from a family who made things. My father was a carpenter with a passion for making furniture. My mother sewed, crocheted, cooked and made a home on a shoestring. My grandmothers both quilted. As a teenager, I found batik through a wonderful art teacher who allowed me the freedom to batik yards of fabric. I then cut them up into a pattern and wore the item I made. I was ecstatic. I painted in my teens and twenties and my parents gracefully supplied me with oil paints and turpentine. When I needed an easel, my father took me to the shop where he worked and made me one. When he found unused and unwanted canvas, he brought it home and stretched it for me with wood from his shop at home. I was indulged at every step of the way. I wasn't ever told that I could not do something or that I should not do something. I was given freedom to chose my path in life. A blessed life I have lived, for sure.

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