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July 2021 Update

Hello and Welcome to my little space.

I am so happy to have you stop by. You may already know this, but I like to craft using recycled materials. If you have never been here before, I hope you will check out a few other posts. You can find everything from couch painting to tin can yard art and, of course, refashions. If you like all things upcycled, I would love to have you become a subscriber.

Also, I should warn you that I do a lot of yammering in this particular post because, well, I think I am hilarious, at least sometimes anyway. So if you want to get straight to the tutorial, you can scroll down to the video and bypass all of my fashion nonsense.

Original Post: from the dreaded year we all know as 2020

It’s not as if I had an enviable wardrobe going into this pandemic and the ensuing lockdowns. No one was clamoring for my fashion advice or requesting my input regarding the coming season’s freshest color pallet. I was not summoned to share my opinion on the hot new “look” for 2021. (Cuz, we all want to scrap 2020. Right?)

Still, there are occasions when I look at the dismal selections hanging forlornly in my closet, and I think, “What happened here?” Then there are a few fleeting moments when I ponder what I might do about it. But, of course, now, during social distancing, quarantining, stay at home orders, businesses being closed or only half open, and no concerts or festivals to attend, perhaps, it is not the easiest or most necessary time to try to revamp your wardrobe. Yet, I find myself in one of those rare moments of concern for the lackluster cotton and polyester garments hanging limply in their dark little dungeon.

Chronologically speaking, I am long past the youthful days when the instinct for fashion was intuited seamlessly into the morning routine with little more difficulty than brushing one’s teeth. Then, what to wear was a decision based on your mood and a quick assessment to determine if your choice of outfits was still in vogue. The latter being something that might have changed overnight while you were sleeping, but somehow you would still be cognizant of the wearability of the items in your closet the next morning. Then, having conducted this visceral appraisal, you threw on the winning outfit and went about your day fretting, perhaps, that your friends still might not approve or that your hair hadn’t turned out quite right. Not really appreciating that youth is itself beautiful and critical friends aren’t really worth keeping.

Fast forward to today during this pandemic, and my thoughts on getting dressed go more like this:

Question: How many days in a row have I worn this t-shirt?

Answer: Humm? I’m not sure. What day is it anyway? Humm. I’m not sure.

These thoughts quite often occurring in conjunction with pulling the aforementioned shirt over my head, giving nary a thought to when, if ever, the screen-printed cat face and baggy men’s fit were considered fashionable. And since I am already over-sharing, the pandemic hasn’t really had all that much to do with it.

I can’t say exactly when this fashion plummet happened. I used to have, if not a highly tuned sense of style, at least a general one. I owned actual outfits. Hanging in my closet, one could find garments from, if not the current season, at least the current decade. I knew that this top went well with that skirt. I could match an outfit with these or those shoes to dress it up or down. Remarkably, sometimes, there was even jewelry involved. In short, there was a time when I felt like I could put myself together, so to speak.

Maybe the fashion decline happens slowly. You start with a closet full of magazine-spread-like apparel. Then, slowly you slip into less and less photo-shoot-worthy options. Until one day, while rummaging in the back of your closet, during a long and bitter breakup with your washing machine, you stumble onto that vest your grandmother crocheted for you in 1967. And you think, “this looks good.”

Or, maybe it happens quickly. One moment you are the maven of human adornment, and the next, a braless sweatpants trip to the grocery store is the norm.

It is, of course possible, that I just quit paying attention. A by-product of having stopped caring, I presume. Still, I know many women my age who carry off their lives and daily dressing with style and seeming ease. As if they still carry the “fashion” hormone that I lost along with my estrogen and decreasing bone density.

It frustrates me that I can’t blame my lack of fashion sense solely on my 56 years on the planet due to these individuals I call my friends. And therefore, I am forced to accept that it must be due to some other more sinister factor. Perhaps, a close relative to one of the 7 deadly sins. Shall we say, the first cousin to sloth, also known as laziness?

Since the start of this lockdown, I have only bothered to access one pair of jeans, recently replaced with a pair of shorts, a few tops, and my pajamas. I may have forgotten how to apply mascara. Most of my shoes are covered in dust and dog hair. And there are days when it is well past noon, and I still haven’t brushed my hair. So it remains a mystery that now would be the time I choose to care about the dismal state of my closet.

But “They,” whoever they are, will have to let me out of my house sometime. Therefore, it seems prudent to have options once I am allowed in public again. Something other than one spaghetti-stained t-shirt and my gardening jeans. By the way, don’t let the words “gardening jeans” confuse you. My stylish friends may well have chic gardening clothes, and I am sure they look adorable in their coordinating gardens.

I do not have an actual garden. When I say gardening, I mean mowing the lawn and pulling a weed or two or twenty. Which, by the way, still leaves a million of those little f**k**s heckling and jeering at me as I drag my tired, sweaty carcass back in the house to drown my humiliating defeat in a beer and cheese puffs.

This brings us to the second reason for my wardrobe woes. More accurately stated as just another excuse. This excuse is known as my carcass. My ever-expanding carcass that is.

On these rare occasions, when I find myself pondering what is currently fashionable and if there is any way to incorporate some stylishness into my life, I sometimes slip up and make a horrible mistake. This blunder comes in the form of a google search for, let’s say, something as innocent as “knit tops.” For weeks after this lapse in judgment, long after my fashion concerns have dissipated, cute little outfits on tooth-picky twenty-something models pop up relentlessly in ads whenever I access my phone or computer. Ruthless reminders of things I dare not wear.

Honestly, with all the intimate details that Google must know about me due to their continual interest in the boring details known as my life, you would think they could figure out that I will not look good in those pants! Although having any fashion ad pop up with the message “not suitable for this user” scrolled on top of it might be more embarrassing.

During these infrequent times of wardrobe distress, I often feel the need to get rid of everything in my closet and start over. In addition to my short attention span, the problem is that I have a strong affinity for knits and other stretch fabrics. The days of tailored garments are behind me. My motto being if it isn’t comfy, then why bother would likely lead all applicants to restock my hollowed-out closet, straight back to hangers full of baggy men’s t-shirts and stretch pants. Woven fabrics and fitted garments need not apply.

Anyway, I recently succumbed to the pop-up ads or my concern about to state of my closet. And I was inspired to try to copy this cute knit top.

See what I mean about the beautiful tooth-picky models?

Anyhow the plan was to make this plain black knit top and some men’s t-shirts into something as adorable as the above-noted photo.

You can find the tutorial in the video below. I guess the project was successful, but the finished top is somehow not really suitable for me. What can I say? My fashion sense has completely evaporated. But I guess that is the beauty of having your Cosmopolitan subscription revoked.

Cuz you know I am going to wear it anyway.🙃🙃🙃

Perhaps this style will look better on you.

Happy Upcycling,

Advertising Disclosure: Upcycle Design Lab may be compensated in exchange for featured placement of certain sponsored products and services, or your clicking on links posted on this website