Anyone who knows me will be unsurprised to hear that I am generally quite haphazard in the way that I cut out my skirts. A common scene is me, crouched on the loungeroom floor, with a pile of fabric in front of me and a miner's headlamp strapped to my head (our house is dark at night!). Usually a bottle of wine and/or beer and/or a block of chocolate is somewhere nearby too. As a result of said haphazardness, the sizes contained in any given batch of skirts are random, at best, dictated only by the size of the fabric piece I'm working with and my whim at the time. Usually, I unconsciously end up with a bunch of skirts that either fit me (weird small-ass medium) or Pearl (awesome large pear-lady). This time, however, I've done quite a few teeny-weeny skirts. Including this skirt, (which I had to photograph flat because it's too small for Florence) which features a beautiful, Monet-esque boating scene, which is, quite frankly, ridiculous, thank you Unanderra Vinnies.
So, small-sized P&E fans take note: Small skirts are currently on their way to sunny Melbourne to soon be sold on the gorgeously gorgeous Georgie Love website.
One of the smalls in particular is an early contender for my annual (well, I just invented it right now, but it could well become an annual event) skirt-of-the-year award. Yes ladies and gentlemen, that skirt has little cobs of corn on it. Different coloured, little cobs of corn. And a pleat. And some vintage buttons. And diagonally-striped bias binding (!). The owner-to-be of that skirt is in for a treat, let me tell you.
Other skirts in the batch are also good - some late-summer tropical fruits, for example:
And a black-denim-with-vintage-platypus-print-pocket. I actually thought I was pretty clever with this one, because platypuses are monotremes - they have a pouch - and this skirt has a pouch-like pocket. Geddit?? (Or maybe I need to lay off the Oatley Flora and Fauna Conservation Society meetings...)
Or these other guys, also perfectly OK, and even with some always-beautiful red spotty binding:
- but really, next to little cobs of corn, they're struggling to be totally awesome. It's a useful reminder that awesomeness is entirely circumstantial, and no-one should beat themselves up about not being absolutely awesome when there are people like, say, Miranda July in the world.