...by floral prints today. Save me, O mighty Spirit of the Universe (insert name here). Liberate me from the tyranny of Laura Ashley. Rescue me from cabbage roses and ivy. Solidarity for Solids!
As I am preparing to move, and making endless lists of the things I'll need, my mind has turned (naturally) to the assortment of textile type products and objects that go into any well- (or ill-) planned abode. I've determined that since I can make period costumes out of eggshells and duct tape and staples, I can certainly fabricate some of what I need.
Tablecloths. Placemats. Panels and sheers and drapey type things to clock out the horrible sun. Pillows. Tea cozies. Closet organizers.
I also decided that I didn't want to do any of the math for this crap, so I went a-hunting for some patterns. I love sewing patterns. They're easy to get (unless they're out of print), easy to use, and have directions on how to make the thing in question printed right there. Clear as a sunny day in the Rockies.
But noooo. These pattern people have made all the examples in the photos that appear on said pattern packages out of the leftover scraps from some deranged quilting bee. Horrid stripes, terrible prints, and eye-blinding eyelets abound. Not only do I need to squint my eyes just to see the shape of the thing, but I need to use my imagination to see just what MY choices of fabric may look like. This last isn't all that hard for me, but to enduring the horror of the pictures is certainly draining.
Maybe I should just cave and do the damn math.
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