I wrote a big ‘ol post months ago about the Ginger Jeans I made…
Side bar: I made jeans!
Side bar subheading: the Lander Pant disaster of a muslin I made doesn’t count and we’re Not Talking About It.
…but I can’t get decent photos of anything on my body, least of all light-sucking black-on-black denim. I’m really struggling to get photos. I had hoped this was a skill that would improve over time, but there’s no light when there’s time and no time when there’s light, and there are no uncluttered rooms or pretty backgrounds.
Ah, well. Here’s my messy, cluttered front porch. And my not-jeans.
Pattern: Mercury Collection by Marilla Walker, view C
Size: 3 waist graded to 4 everywhere else
Mods: I must have short legs. I chopped a lot off. I might shorten them even further to a couple inches above the ankle. Then again, I might not.
It seems fitting (ha ha, pun intended) that after making jeans I would do a 180 in just about every pants-making respect possible. Linen instead of denim, an elastic waist instead of fly, clownishly wide legs instead of slim, a style whose only fit requirement is that the elastic is snug enough to stay at your waist while being wide enough to go over your tush. They feel ridiculous to wear, but they were super easy to make and I’m pleasantly surprised to find I can wear them without them wearing me. Good enough! One office-wear garment done.
Toys are deceiving. I know from personal experience that beginning knitters misidentify toys as “small projects” that will be “quick” and underestimate the skills they require. Toys are actually really difficult projects to get right – there can be more techniques used in a seemingly simple toy than a simple sweater and when you scale down a project’s size you’re often leveling up its difficulty. I don’t say that to discourage anybody from knitting or sewing whatever they like – do it! Toys can be excellent learning tools for all the same reasons that they’re difficult! – I say it in case you don’t have me in your life to (loudly, probably) reassure you, “Toys are HARD!” if you’re embarrassed to find that, for example, the stuffed pig you made with ad-hoc fun fur wings turns out to have more of a sneer than a smile, crooked bum, asymmetrical snout, and 4 differently shaped and sized legs that collectively cannot support the creature’s weight.
Point is, it takes a little more time and practice to develop the chops to throw a toy off one’s needles that you feel proud to gift to anybody but the cat. The good news is that except in cases such as the crocheted hanging clown doll that lived in my childhood closet terrorizing me at night, the trade off to “perfection” is often “character”. And so even though I knew I didn’t have the sewing skills or attention to detail that would make these dolls keepsake-quality, when MJ picked cooed over, clung to, and generally delighted in the Goldilocks and the Three Bears samples at Craft South (well played, Craft South, well played) I thought, well, what the heck. Why not?
Uneven, imperfect, and who cares? They’re cute and good enough and MJ won’t get them until her birthday, but I hope she loves them to literal bits after years of use and abuse. Aren’t keepsakes that retain their condition the ones never enjoyed? Or is that a lie I tell myself because we don’t take good care of our things?