Crafts work

Angela had a craftsnight/potluck on Tuesday night. It's going to be a weekly shindig. I wish I were a more crafty lady, but that's one instinct of girlhood that was not programmed into my brain. So while Ruby knitted leather to form a bag and Angela made jewelry I repaired a jacket, which is about as inspired as my sewing gets. But damn do I love a good stitch, give me something busted and I will mend the hell out of it.



I purchased the above jacket at Beacon's Closet when I was an employee there years ago. My coworker Christine bought it in from a customer and fell immediately in love with it and took it home. I was insanely jealous. It's nearly impossible to find a vintage Levi's jacket that doesn't have huge puffy arms or isn't man-sized.

About a week later the jacket reappeared in my hold bucket. The ever anti-social Christine hadn't bargained on a denim jacket emblazoned with patches from all over the world being a mega conversation piece and after the fifth stranger approached her in one night and asked her if she'd been to all the places on the jacket she vowed never to wear it again. Score! Strangers talk to me all the time anyway, I don't know what it is but I have an uncanny ability to attract weirdos at bars, and it's gotten even more severe since I quit drinking. Dunno what that's about, apparently I possess the creep pheromone, although that still doesn't make up for the lack of the craft gene.

I wore it a few times and then as usual (because I ruin everything I touch...another unfortunate uncanny ability of mine) the patches started to fall off. None actually became detached from the jacket but for fear of losing one I set the jacket aside in my sewing pile and a year or two went by. I'd forgotten all about it.

Yay craft night! I spent an hour and a half resewing all the suspect patches and the thing of beauty was restore to its former glory.



Still fits like a dream!



Whoa...wait...watch me turn into a girl who blogs her outfits. Because another thing I'd forgotten all about were these boots. I bought them at the Barneys Warehouse sale on the cheap. I'd already mega-splurged on a black pair (that still stand as the most expensive thing I've ever purchased) and when I found the brown ones in my size at basically 90% off I melted, bought a second pair and promptly forgot all about them. I went all winter without wearing them and only recently rediscovered them in my shoe bin (okay in one of my four shoe bins.)



So good, right?

Speaking of forgetting things for months at a time at the bottom of bins, I seriously want to get a room makeover. I need to build a lofted closet because the dust is starting to get crazy. Every room I've ever had in this city is totally nuts. One roommate in Greenpoint said it looked like Blossom Russo exploded. Good call.

Here is a virtual tour of my insanity:


Dresses, belts, and hats.


Tshirts, bags, hats, and parasol.

I have three clothing racks, one for dresses, one for t-shirts, and one for blouses, jackets, and skirts. The coats are on a fourth clothing rack outside of my bedroom. Aside from that I have my scarf collection hanging from my walls and a few heavy metal articles on display.


Eyeball backpack, hand painted Iron Maiden denim jacket, Kreator painters cap that I need to mail to Blizz back in SF, various scarves and purses, and party graffiti.


Hand painted Iron Maiden vest, Black Sabbath hat, crate of shoes.


Motley Crue official roadie jacket, papoose, top hat from Alice Cooper Halloween costume, vintage scarves, Styx coke mirror, acid yellow bedsheets, and a an art star's former blanket (long story, I'll tell you about it sometime.)


Led Zeppelin mirror, Old Style clock, vintage scarves, a purse made from a baby alligator, flute, Ramones lunch box serving as jewelry box, Victorian chainmail and beaded purses, ancient photograph of a dog sitting on a wicker chair, and black and silver suede gauntlet gloves.


Asian baby, fantasy tapestry, television draped in white fur pelt.


Tv draped in white fur pelt

I've been in my spot for over two years. If I ever move it's going to be seriously crazy.