Clothing

Who knew that folding could be so satisfying?  My clothing now fits comfortably in three drawers, a small crate on a shelf, and a thin slice of the closet.  I have empty drawers that I don't know what to do with.  Can barely fathom that.

It became abundantly clear that handmade clothing gives me the most pleasure.  I love slipping on a garment I brought to life myself.  For the first time it seems achievable to have a mostly me-made wardrobe, full of natural fibers.  Think Alabama Chanin jersey skirts and dresses, handknit sweaters, and wool socks.  Thrifted Pendleton wool pleated skirts that I have mended and let out and hemmed.  Lots of boatnecks.  Lots of stripes, polkadots, and appliqué.  I am so happy at the thought.

And yet it has been freeing to let go of some of the homemade stuff that I have moved past.  Here are the chunky leg warmers I knit out of pea-green Peruvia that made my legs look like Oscar the Grouch's--if he had been brave enough to set foot outside his garbage can.  Serious cankles.

Farewell, jolly green leg warmers!  You kept my shins warm through many a Jordanville winter, where my skirts were long enough to hide you.  Maybe someone will find you at the thrift shop, unravel you, and make you into something better.  Maybe someone will actually want to wear you--as unlikely as that seems.  Or maybe you will become insulation at a fiber recycling plant.  You served me well.  Thanks for the laughs--often at my expense when I wore you.  My heart will go on.