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The past several days I have been altering the clothes I bought from Havana Blue in Melbourne, Australia. Mostly I don’t try things on…..just see if they are on sale and if the size looks right. And because I follow Havana Blue on Facebook just to see the cut of the clothes, I wanted to get to the shop while there. Then of course buy whatever would haunt me later if I didn’t buy it.

This white shirt was actually some kind of soft linen coat. I looked like a walking duvet cover when I put it on at home. At least one third of it is now in the “spare cloth” bin. Next I went to the pants that this was bought to go with. A navy blue or cobalt, not sure which because I only wear pale blues. They were quite roomy due to not only the cut but the rectangular opening in the side front. I closed that over and took further tucks on the inseam hem.

They actually look wearable now.

Next was another over-sized top from the same shop. I have to say here that the younger, very pretty woman who was showing me things in the shop, looked also like she was packing on some more than necessary pounds but managed to look very stunning in a blue pants, top and duster. I tried to talk her into just going into the changing room, putting something else on and letting me buy what she was wearing. She wouldn’t. But after a quick and yet discreet look at my body, she started pulling things off the rack.

The kind friend, Barbara, who took me to the shop was, as most Australian women are, kind. There were no comments like, “Sandy, you do not want to wear that.” Those comments are more like what I would hear here in the states, either verbally or with a look, or a decided shake of the head. So thank you, Barbara for your kindness and the opportunity to remake what looked like a good idea at the time.

Here is the soft grey open weave top.

And again, about one third is in the bin with the white linen. The necklace with this was inspired by my looking down at the floor and seeing all the small scraps from sewing the past several days. Unfortunately I spent two days thinking it was a good idea to stitch on all the squares…kantha stitches, and when I finished it was way too much….totally “goobered” as one might say. So I made another one  because there are so many scraps. I used a stiffening iron-on something papery and than hand stitched them closed around the linen like cord with matching sewing threads.

I like the softness of it and the practicality as it might just cover whatever I have spilt down my front. Here it is with the dark grey top.

And finally here is the label inside the Havana Blue clothing.

Of course I am supposed to wash it in cold water, dry flat, not wring it out….maybe I can just hose them off in the yard with a bit of dish detergent. Then a day later when they are dry go ahead and fish them out from under a tree, peel off the bird mess and then press with a warm iron.

And don’t you just love how it says bananablue. Now was this really made there in Australia, where the lovely women told me, “Right here in Melbourne” or somewhere where they had a hard time doing the translation of Havana Blue.

Regardless, I would not trade that experience of being there and buying these clothes for anything. She even managed to sell me a great linen scarf to “tie it all together.” It is a very usable white with lots of splotches of different blues on it. Lovely.

What is left to sew on is hemming a black pair of pants from a shop in Asheville….then I quit for now. What I have to get rid of are some blouses that never will fit and I never liked that I got on sale, therefore had to buy them. Those and two pairs of rayon slacks that for five years I have meant to hem but the pesky buttons up the sides seemed more trouble than it was worth. I have a taller friend who will get the lot later this week.

So that is it for now. End of sewing stories unless something spectacular happens.

Til later.

PS In the meantime I am staying out of shops.

I put the first head on the work table and decided to make it all about the printmaking part of me. I pulled out all the old type stamps that were collected years ago for no other reason than to own them. Not one was ever used to write a word. They are as gummed up now as much as the day I bought them. So I glued them onto the head. And then filled in some of the empty spaces with used tarlatan rolled on small bits of chopsticks. I have no idea why I had so many sets of Chinese restaurant chopsticks in my stash, but they cut easily and now whatever I had is in pieces with tarlatan glued to them.

I have some super large wood fonts that I may fit into the head somewhere. But first I think that I need to construct some dormers out each side for the right and left brain thinking. Nice roof topped dormers with collections inside of prints, small books and maybe these cute little pencils that seem to fit. I think there needs to be more stuck into her hair bits. Something equally messy. And each of the chopstick ends that show need a glob of printmakers ink stuck on top.

I pulled out old carving tools that probably are not any good any more to stick into her head but found I could not part with them just yet. They may be able to be used to do more carvings. She might need a small carved wood block stuck to her forehead. She might need it to be recessed into her forehead. That is a better idea. So obviously this is still in the “planning as you work” stage. More as it progresses.

I had company this week. Two of the children from deceased siblings. Of the six children that my mother had there are only two of us left….me and a sister that was not very good at it, so we parted ways many years ago. Every family has one that you really wish you did not have to invite over….usually the old conservative and grumpy uncle….ours was this sister that, rather than endure, we just took her name off the Christmas card list and everything else fell into place. Life was better without the drama that attached itself to her.

But with the two, one niece, who is actually a grandmother and one nephew we had fun remembering old times in almost forgotten places. Lee joined in by way of smiling at all the appropriate times but asked as we waved them off in the driveway, “Who were those people?”

I tried to jog his memory about going to visit the niece when her mother was alive. There were loads of stray farm animals and dogs and cats and a catfish pond at their place located near a far away town in the deep, sultry south of north Georgia country. He still looked puzzled. I even told him of my sister’s (the niece’s mother) collection of ashes of passed away pets and relatives. She had quite the collection in her closet and when she moved in with her daughter, each was laid to rest around the property…..all facing the catfish pond. I smiled when I remembered this….especially the ferret placed near the poodle with painted nails.  Lee smiled too but any memory of who and where I was talking about was lost.

I am still smiling now as I get this posted and take Lee out to the brewery for our Thursday lunch.

Til later.