I don’t normally listen to Taylor Swift but I started listening to Speak Now yesterday and haven’t stopped.
I always skipped this song but I was busy stitching the toile for tomorrow’s fitting when I notice wet spots appearing on the calico. I put the needle down and realize I’m crying.
" … Remember that she’s getting older, too …
Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room
Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home
Remember the footsteps, remember the words said
And all your little brother’s favorite songs
I just realized everything I have
Is someday gonna be gone
So here I am in my new apartment
In a big city, they just dropped me off
It’s so much colder than I thought it would be
So I tuck myself in and turn my night light on
Wish I’d never grown up
I wish I’d never grown up… “
I just sat here and cried my heart out. I’m 21 and I don’t normally hand out advice because this is primarily a History/ Costume/ Fashion blog but if you are reading this and you are still in Middle school/ High school please listen to this song. Read the lyrics and take them to heart. High school may be hard but it has nothing on how hard it is to go out on your own.
I spent my entire teen years wanting to grow up but I’m grown now and sometimes I am so tired, all I want to do is go back to when I could climb into my moms lap and believe her when she said everything will be ok. There are days when I wake up and just want to hear my younger brother being annoying, hear the racket my dad makes coming home from work, and see my mom smile and hug me.
It’s so cliched to say but you really don’t know what you have until you are older and sitting there looking back into the past and wishing so hard you could go back for just a few minutes.
A t early dawn of day arise
B less first the Ruler of the skies
C omb, wash, and cleanse, and e’vry day
D ress, read, or work, ere thou dost play
E ach hour in useful business spend
F or time soon hastens to an end
G overn thy thoughts by wisdom’s rule
H ate every knave, and shun a fool
I mprove in each ingenious art
K nowledge, like beauty, wins the heart
L ove all thy friends, nor hate thy foes
M ake these thy friends as well as those
N o bribe should tempt thee to a lie
O r glittering hate allure thy eye
P lace not thy heart on sordid pelf
Q uiet and patient keep thyself
R ail not at others, for thou may
S ome faults commit as well as they
T ell not a secret, nor pretend
U nder disguise to be a friend
V ain is the pomp of gold and lace (I disagree)
W here virtue does not stamp a grace
X erxes over millions weeping cried
Y on mighty host, the grave must hide
Z comes at last—best place of any
To fit a zealot or a zany.
—Samuel Wood, Quaker School Master
And here I thought my “/a/ /a/ apple, /b/ /b/ ball, /c/ /c/ cat and /d/ /d/ doll” was hard.
I spent three hours last night cutting my toile for my skirts. I had 5 metres of fabric and made a 7 paneled skirt. I wasn’t sure if we had to tack those lines so I did anyway. I pinned everything and then went to sleep. I just sat down to sew them together and the new fabric pen I bought isn’t the one I normally get. Instead of being erased by water this ink disappearing on it’s own.
So now I have tacking lines but all my markings and notes are gone.
Oh and my deadline is Thursday.
My drawing teacher surprised us last week by splitting us into groups of six and sending us off to drawing sessions at the various museums in London. Imagine my surprise when I get to the V&A’s Print and Drawings Study Room to find two archival boxes of Aubrey Beardsley’s original drawings from La Morte d’Arthur and Lysistrata.
I wanted to make this drawing session matter so I challenged myself to draw the series that I normally would shy away from. I’ve never drawn nudes before and I most certainly have never drawn such *exaggerated* nudes. It’s really silly but I feel rather empowered by today’s experience however I’m never sharing them with anyone other than my teacher.
(The Countess spent her declining years in an apartment in the Place Vendôme, where she had the rooms decorated in funereal black, the blinds kept drawn, and mirrors banished—apparently so she would not have to confront her advancing age and loss of beauty. On November 28, 1899, she died at age sixty-two, and was buried at the Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.)