HELLO, I’VE REPAINTED MY DINING ROOM AND MADE A NEW SHIRT TO MATCH. The walls are Pink Sea Salt by Behr, a mention which should be great for my blog’s SEO, and the turtleneck is made from a remnant of black, sparkly sweater knit I used on a gown. Oh and I found a bunch of pleated, peach tubes at the fabric warehouse recently and folded one up and stuck it on the front to attract more attention to myself.
It’s like if Delpozo did a collection of sloppy coffee filter shirts.
Just bought this travertine table. Then I spent a week feeling very sad and stressed that it was going to fall through the floor and onto the condo below us.
We read through a bunch of fish tank and safe forums and all of the contractors and architects on those threads were not at all concerned about 300 lbs, which is what this table weighs.
Now I worry that it will tip off its base and crush someone’s legs.
I am a very chill person.
P.S. I made the tunic underneath too. It’s a long, nightshirt version of my poet blouse, and, friends, there is nothing I’ve ever made that I love more than that damn blouse. I CAN’T STOP WITH IT.
Every time I buy new fabric, I think “Oh! I wonder how this would look as a POET BLOUSE??”
I didn’t have enough of this black, sparkly sweater knit, so I had to go sleeveless. No worries, though, because I CAN STILL WEAR IT WITH A POET BLOUSE.
I’d like to wear it to a party or an art show, but I’ll probably just make love to this table before it ruins my life and call it a day. GOODBYE.
HELLO, HERE IS ANOTHER POST ABOUT MY HOLIDAY PARTY LEGGINGS. Because they were all covered up by my giant Swan Lake tunic, and because I loved them more than I thought I would, and because things started getting weirder and weirder the more I posed in them, well … here you go …
Hey look, it’s my poet blouse! After wearing it practically every time I left my house over the summer, I decided to give it a rest, but when I pulled it out again for today’s shoot, I realized what a fool I’ve been. THIS IS A PERFECT BLOUSE. I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR IT.
Pants are good too. Super high waisted with inserts at the hips – which look a lot like football player pads, and which were very much not intended, but I had to do something when I realized the fabric had almost no stretch, and I had made them extra-tight, and the seams were literally popping apart as I wore them. HAWT.
I have legs. And I know how to use legs.
I do wish they were slightly less cropped, but they were never supposed to be regular pants. Maybe I’ll just put a seam there and add a little more to the length. I mean, what the hell, they already have weird hip gussets and they are GLITTERY AF. An extra seam at the bottom isn’t going to hurt anyone.
Speaking of, the glitter in this fabric is constantly shedding and leaving little piles on the floor wherever I go. So magical.
Definitely adding like three inches to those hems.
HELLO I MADE A POET BLOUSE. Is there anything sexier than a ridiculous amount of fabric, like definitely way too much fabric, draped over your body and billowing all around you?
You: “Um …?”
It’s sexy because it’s so perfectly easy, and it’s also straight out of an old English novel, full of romance and vicars and scandal. Can’t you just see some gorgeous, socially frustrated man with curling tendrils, ripping this from my shoulders in a fit of wild passion?
With special details like tiny rows of shirring to shape the sleeves, and a draped, detached cowl at the back, and an insanely soft, liquid-y rayon fabric, I feel easy and confident and loved and like a goddamned fascinating poet. Invite me to your dinner parties.
I also embroidered a tiny pale blue “V” next to a covered button on the silk wristband. Fucking sexpot over here.
Roses are red, violets are blue
P.S. this blouse is basically see-through. GOODBYE.