Project Runway

Last fall I discovered the show Project Runway. I did it the perfect way and used our DVR to record the whole season at once, then I could watch one episode each day for several weeks when I ran.

Suddenly, I found myself longing for my own sewing mannequin that I could drape with fabrics of various colors and textures. But, since I have a strict policy of only using my sewing machine once a year for Halloween, it was an unrealized desire.

Then, in February, I received this catalog in the mail. I loved the look of their dresses and longed to buy them for my daughters. For half a minute, I thought maybe I should, but then I thought again -- about mud and paint and grape juice; about rogue scissors and markers; about growing children who change sizes in less than a season -- and I knew again I would never buy such clothes for my children. (Besides, I think that is more than I have ever even spent on a dress for me, with the exception of my wedding.)

But, I couldn't let it go. I pined for the clothes; I coveted the look for my girls.

And, then I thought, "Well, if I can't buy it, I will just have to make it myself."

Normally, I do not sew for my children for a few reasons.

1- Once I buy the fabric and supplies, not to mention invest all my time, it is simply NOT a cost-effective option.

2- I tend to engage in "Extreme Sewing." This brand of sewing exists right on the edge of sanity. It involves translating my personal visions into reality. Which is why I enjoy it. But, subsequently, it also involves no patterns or directions. Which is why I can hate it. It is creativity at full speed teetering on the edge of chaos. There is no guarantee after I put in countless hours that I will be satisfied with the result.

3- I struggle to find the time. Most the time when I sew (like everything else I do), I get obsessed. I don't want to stop until finished. So, everything else in my life and home falls to pieces around me during the process.

But, even with all these good, sound, reasonable arguments in mind, I went to the fabric store so I could create some fabulous, girly dresses.

I found fabric I liked for a very reasonable price, borrowed my friend's serger (thanks Melanie, but now I am spoiled), and ordered a ruffler foot on e-bay (I scored this $140 attachment to my sewing machine for only $25 with free shipping -- I still can't believe it. I only wish I would have purchased it before hand-gathering all the layered skirts and sleeves for princess dresses at Halloween!), and I was ready to create.

In the end, I am SO happy with the results. I even made myself a new dress to wear to the temple (not pictured below). For the seven dresses (including mine) and three pairs of leggins, three flower clips and three headbands, I spent only $45. Now, that is economical sewing.

Even more, I created the looks I wanted. I have more ideas for more fanciful little girl dresses bobbing around in the back of my mind, but I need to take a break for awhile.

The only shortfall of my project runway experience is that despite my models being beautiful, they sure could use more training on how to wear the look, pose for pictures, and just cooperate generally. No chance I was going to get a good shot of all three together. Oh well.

Hope you like the dresses!

In the Pictures

You know that expression, "The proof is in the pudding," I have never had a clue what it means. But, in this case, the proof is in the pictures. So, for my family who has been curious... here it finally is: Snowmageddon 2010.

FYI - the picture with the snowman was taken before the big storm. After, we could not see the snowman at all. In fact, only recently, I found the scarf and hat on the soggy grass.

If you are interested, my more timely blog for this week is over here.

Thawing

I have not written for a long time.

I have been barren, empty. Like Sarah's womb or the fruitless twigs standing tall and empty outside my window, I simply could not produce. There was nothing to give.

My life and my energy have felt buried deep under the frozen ground. And, try as I might, I could not breathe life into the stark cold.

Then, this morning, the sun broke through. The snow had melted, the bitter wind no longer howled outside my door. There was warmth.

I ran in the sunlight, noticing in my heart the smallest buds on barren branches, green shoots pushing through the dead, brown ground.

And, I felt again the promise that far beneath the nothingness is a new life, a glorious flowering of hope, a creativity just waiting to spring forth.