I grew up in New England, where differentiated seasons abound. This means we plowed through 2 ft snow drifts in winter, melted in the summer heat, and watched the world bloom around us in spring. But, my favorite season was always fall. One of my most vivid childhood memories was always of that first crisp fall weekend, where my family and I would make a trip to the apple orchards to find the most perfect pie-worthy apples to commemorate autumn.
I think it’s always important to be proud of the things you do well – either from an inherent skill or years of practice, there is no harm in patting yourself on the back. It’s just as important to acknowledge the things you do not excel at. Come on, we all have them. The things that, no matter how hard we try or how many books we read or YouTube videos we memorize, it’s just never gonna happen.
A lot of my skirt designs have been based off of true vintage pieces that are so swoon-worthy, yet so elusive, I couldn’t wait another minute before making it mine. Occasionally, I will come up with an original design – sparked from my everyday wanderings, an inability to find just what I’m looking for, or based off of some crazy desire for a skirt that lights up. But this latest creation came from an off hand comment from a lovely friend and one of my very favorite handbag companies…
We all have our sewing “wish list” pile (or at least I do). You know the one: where you have stacks of fabric and a box of patterns that you will one day make into something fabulous. It never happens all at once, but over years of collecting and planning, you turn around one day and realize your pile of plans and sewing ideas is now threatening to drown you. So, I was beyond ecstatic to work with Online Fabric Store to finally make a dent in that pile…
Have you ever had an idea that you immediately scoffed at? You know the one: Where, as soon as the thought forms in your head, you laugh at the absurdity… Despite the pie-in-the-sky nature of it all, you share it with your husband anyway, with the first words out of your mouth being, “I know this sounds nuts, but…” And then what if you just went and did it anyway?? If this kind of story sounds intriguing, read on….
There are certain designs that you just can’t get out of your head. As you all know by now, most of my sewing projects are seeded in a vintage piece I saw and missed, or the endless desire to one-up my previous sewing adventure. Despite the fact that my tailoring pile is going to topple over and drown me one of these days, my hands were itching to work on a new design…
Almost immediately following my last collaboration with the amazing Lucy Baribeau, where we brought one of my most coveted vintage trompe l’oeil prints into a modern day reality, we started chatting about the next colorway. Truthfully, they have all stolen my heart in different ways, and it was only a matter of time before each one ventured to my sewing table…
I was feeling pretty bolstered by my last sewing project and almost immediately jumped to the next. Given I have about 50 things in my head at any one time I want to create, plus an overflowing tailoring pile, the time I have never quite meets the time I need for sewing. However, after kicking the Imposter Syndrome squarely in the eye with my Garden of Eden dress, I didn’t stop to doubt myself and simply plunged on ahead.
I think we can all fall victim to a bit of Imposter Syndrome – you know, where despite your talent and skill, you feel that you really don’t know anything. And that it’s just a matter of time before your secret is revealed and you’re outed as a fraud. I think I’ve been internalizing this Imposter Syndrome with my sewing – despite the number of projects I’ve accomplished, I’ve always chalked it up to luck or the help that I’ve had along the way…
There are some projects that simply take forever. Not because they’re particularly complicated, but because life just… happens. Several years ago now (it’s actually embarrassing to think about how long ago it was…), I started to draft this dress. Like most of my creations, she was born from a true vintage piece that could never be mine. And as with most unrequited loves, I forlornly tucked her into the back of my mind. But, I never forgot her.