Little Pieces of Me

Have you ever had a piece of clothing that seemed to be cursed? I once had a white cotton tuxedo style shirt - all small tucks down the front - that was truly cursed. Every time I wore it I got something on it. Pasta sauce. Chocolate. Gravy. Ink. The mystery stain. You know. I think I have another cursed clothing item now… I had a remnant of white stretch lace that I bought thinking it would make a frothy shabby chic scarf. The fabric was so lovely that it sort of intimidated me. I've had it hanging up in my sewing room for ages. Every time I walked by it I'd eye it and think "this week". That went on for about a year. Finally this week  arrived. Mostly due to the fact that I was avoiding starting my next sewing project. But I digress. I cut a 10 inch wide strip of the fabric - as long as the remnant would allow. I knew I'd need to pieced for the length I wanted, but first I needed to finish the long sides. And this is where the curse first showed itsel...

I don't really think that Shabby Gothic is a style per se - or at least it wasn't until now. I have a secret love of Shabby Chic. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure. All that draped white cotton, old bits of lace and faded rose prints are so darn pretty. Of course the style has nothing at all to do with the reality of my life, how my home is decorated nor how I dress. Especially how I dress. The beautiful shabby chic clothes you see on endless Pinterest boards mostly look good on the young and the willowy – neither of which I am. And I'm not talking the over the top Magnolia Pearl  "oh, I think I'll just take this underwear I found in my great granny's attic and wear it with these old work boots and a table cloth" look. But even that has it's own crazy appeal.  So I thought that perhaps I could re-interpret Shabby Chic to my needs by working in black rather than pale pastels. And I think I might be on to something, except that not all my mate...