Good morning, cigar-chomping cross-dressers and others!
As you can see I am officially obsessed with this boy-meets-girl/Whoops-boy-IS-girl wardrobe thing. Call it a kink. And look:
Vogue 9128, my little Quasimodo Eighties jumper pattern is well underway!
Yesterday I picked up this lovely $2/yd. cotton shirting that has a little metallic silver stripe:
...and for the jumper, this bold glen plaid:
And of course, I couldn't resist buying a pair of these -- the biggest I could find!
Here they are in place:
Woo hoo, we're going back to 1985!
I'm a little embarrassed to admit that this wretched-refuse-of-a-pattern is starting to grow on me. I feel for its horrible misfortune.
By the way, I was a little disappointed that yesterday's post left more than a few readers shaking their heads, wondering if I'd gone off the deep end. I keep forgetting that we're still in the holding-hands-at-the-malt-shop stage of our relationship. We don't really know each other very well even if we are practically finishing each other's sentences sometimes. Satire is the post-coital cigarette -- it can happen too early.
Which brings up a little something else I've been hesitant to mention. I've noticed -- and I'm sure you have too -- a certain kind of blog commenter who is -- how can I say this politely -- a little superior.
These commenters all share something you may not be aware of, which is why I've labeled them SWOBs. SWOBs are Sewists Without Blogs. Elitist to their very core, they think just because they don't have a blog they're better than the rest of us!
Clever cum laude types, they've aptly pegged us bloggers as the kids who had to settle for the second lead in their Senior class musical and swore they'd put on a show of their own where they'd be the star and never have to audition again! Blogging fits
To snobby old SWOBs, bloggers are just one step above seltzer-down-your-pants circus clowns and flopsweat-streaked vaudevillians. They, in contrast, are hoity-toity Patrons of the Arts who for their amusement go slumming on the sewing blogs. They sneer at our desperate attempts to dump our old patterns on gullible readers through the GIVEAWAY ruse, or to create faux democracy through our tedious, pleading POLLS.
You can spot a SWOB by their comments. SWOBs traffic in sly sarcasm and emotional manipulation. "Well, of course I don't have a blog..." or "As a non-blogger I'm no authority..." or "Excuse me if I don't blog..."
Bloggers, please, don't let SWOB snobbery get you down. It's true, they're less needy and less neurotic, but is anybody sending them free fabric remnants?
Let them revel in their current non-blog-itude, I say! It's only a matter of time.
And so, my non-SWOB friends and SWOB frenemies, it's time to get back to my little monster, Vogue 9128. She needs sleeves and a jumper.
Happy Sewing, everyone, and as for you SWOBs, I invite you to leave your SWOB-iest comment yet. I can take it!
Bloggers, I ask you: Have you experienced the SWOB phenomenon?
How do you handle it?
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