C is for…
To look at me you wouldn’t think I care about clothes as much as I do. When I worked from home I had a particular uniform I would wear everyday:
Not exactly the height of fashion is it? But I do like clothes, ophthalmologist always have – and I love the thrill of finding really great stuff at second hand shops. I just don’t like the price on most clothing these days. I find that if it something I can actually afford it isn’t going to last very long. Seriously, most retailers should be ashamed of themselves with their terrible craftsmanship: crooked hems, puckered seams, runs in fabric etc. I have a little mantra/saying/whatever I live by: If want poorly made clothes I can do it myself. Obviously that doesn’t say much about my sewing skills and I rarely make my own clothes anymore but it keeps me from buying crap, keeps my bank account in check and keeps my closet from filling up on things I don’t need.
Of which I have all the time now. Not the real deal “I’m in labour” contractions – just constant Braxton Hicks ones that make things like driving almost impossible these days. It is really hard to turn the steering wheel and shoulder check while you uterus has seized up. I just keep telling myself this is good for me though – just like I used to tell myself that walking up the steep hill to school every day was good for my ass. I don’t know if I ever noticed a difference but it made me feel better to think that as I stood at the top of the hill panting, trying to catch my breath and laughing at myself for being such a wimp my ass was shrinking a little.
Or, hemming curtains, which is on the top of my to-do list today since the hem fell apart when I washed them – so I am going to go and finish that right now.