the new blue corduroy skirt and the inner voices
On the final day of May, I wore my new skirt, the one I finished earlier this week. As is often the case, I had to give myself a little talk after I viewed the photos. This talk:
Voice #1: But my stomach looks so fat in this!
Voice #2: Yes Sandra, that is because your stomach is that fat. You can hide it by standing behind a child, but you cannot make it go away just by not liking it.
Voice #1: Oh. I s'pose. It's a bugger really. I can learn to make clothes that fit me, and I can learn to make clothes which are flattering, but I cannot make clothes which make entire parts of my body disappear.
Voice #2: Yes. It's good you are returning to a logical perspective. Now remember how you have written about the need for diverse images of women in our media?
Voice #1: [splutter] But I like pictures of different shaped women looking glamorous!
Voice #2: (which is by now most insufferable in tone) But women are not glamorous all the time. Maybe those other women of diverse shapes who share their sewing or other pictures of themselves feel the disappointment and post anyway? You should live the diversity mantra and post these pics anyway.
The skirt is slightly a-line which works well for comfort. I have a red one cut out in the same pattern, also of corduroy, and I am thinking of making that straight and comparing the two. This skirt was plenty comfortable enough for easy and modest movement at work today (we can discuss feminism and sexual and clothing liberation all we like, but I'm still 100% sure that modest arrangements are the best choice for my work clothing) and the back vent would still give plenty of room if I made the sides straight, or even slightly curved in at the bottom as is apparently flattering in a pencil skirt style.
Apart from this sewing achievement, most of my life seems to be spent at work of late, and not in the garden. But at 4.50pm tonight, I resolved that I would not waste a single moment in which I was home, it was light, and the smoke alarm wasn't shrieking in the kitchen. I dug in some biogold fertiliser pellets where the garlic will be planted, hopefully next week, and watered the smallest kale with fish fertiliser. Not that it needs any water, but I think a bit of nutrition delivery could benefit us all down the track. Out the front, I have been wondering why my daffodils are not sprouting. I've wondered if I'm imagining things when there seem to be shoots one day and they are gone a few days later.
I have suspicions.
Actually, no. Stronger and worser. The bulbs are really too big for blackbirds to carry. The front garden is exposed to the weka(s).
I guess this weekend will be partly devoted to the effective draping of bird netting.