Friday, February 13, 2015

Coming up roses

It's that time of year: Valentine time (Valentimes?).  I came up with this year's idea about a month ago: Last year I crocheted everyone a heart, and this year I wanted to crochet rosebuds.  Lionbrand had this pattern and it looked easy enough, so I printed it out, procrastinated approximately one month, and frantically started 30 roses (tinier rosebuds didn't look as nice and worked up way too fast) last Friday.  Believe it or not, I do think the roses are easier to make than last year's hearts--something was off about that heart pattern, and while I figured it out, it was annoying that the pattern wasn't foolproof.

I did all of these in one day and could've done more if I had been more motivated.  Don't be fooled though: The flowers themselves are crocheted here, but each one still needs to be twisted up, sewn shut, and then hot-glued onto a clothes pin.  And then I have to make all the tags.

I picked the yarn based on my favorite nail polish colors.  (I like wearing dark blue and dark green on my nails, but those aren't very Valentiney colors.  The bottommost color is my most favorite--Vixen by Revlon.  It's not black, it's not brown, and it's not red.)

Around the time that I found the crochet rosebud pattern, I found this sweater on consignment at Greene Street in West Chester.  It looked like Anthro, but it's provenance was uncertain because there was no label to be found anywhere.  (A ten minute Internet search later revealed it to be Liefsdottir, i.e., Anthro.)  I didn't really care where it was from originally, but there wasn't even a care tag hidden inside.  On closer inspection, I realized that the whole reason why I loved the sweater--the giant (machine created?) needlework rose inside--wasn't necessarily meant to be hidden away: The sweater was actually reversible, hence no tags.  The previous owner must have ripped them out. (Makes sense.)

The grosgrain ribbon things on the front look a mess because I had already washed the sweater when I took these pictures. If I can't wash it, I don't want it--dry cleaning is such a pain in the ass.  I have a whole post written on this in my head--I'll get to it at some point.  Also, I still suck at Lightroom.

I never wear red. Ever.  This is just pink enough that I know I will reach for it.

Here it is reversed.  It looked ok worn inside out--the sweater has a much nicer shape, especially through the shoulders, when it's worn right side out.  I knew from the beginning, though, that I would never choose to wear it this way.

Crochet applique

This is the whole reason I bought it.

Why is this wasted on the inside? Oh right, it's reversible. But, I'm never going to wear this inside out ... guess I better figure something out ...
I took a risk when I bought this: It appeared that the rose applique was only sewn onto the sweater lining.  My hope was that only these stitches held it on ... not glue in addition to the stitches. I brought the sweater home, ripped out the rose from the inside ...

... and sewed it on to the outside.  So much better!

Then I ripped off those saggy grosgrain details from the front.  They were really bugging me--as long as they stayed, I couldn't pair this with a necklace.  Even without a necklace, they were heavy and too much.  They tore off pretty easily (not shocking for Anthro).

Besides, I have a billion broaches that easily secure onto the hook and eye closures--I can wear one at the top and the leave the bottom two plain and opened or go all out and wear three.  Probably better than a necklace anyway.

So rosy Valentines, a big-ass rose applique sweater ... suddenly I began looking around my house, and I realized that I own A LOT of stuff with roses on it.  We already knew I had a problem with redundancy ... here is more evidence of this problem:

These ...

Oh, and that ...

... and THAT.  I realized later that I forgot a pair of carved coral earrings (similar to this necklace clasp here) that my mom bought in Hawaii when she was a teenager.  The sterling rose on the Tiffany bracelet is a vintage religious medal--it opens up three ways to reveal four different images inside.  $8 at a consignment shop--I'm always on the hunt for religious medals.

I bought this the same day as the coral necklace previously.  Huh: and it's turquoise. Go figure.

The hook that holds my bathrobe ...

... oh right, and my robe. I've had this since third grade.  It belonged to a neighbor's daughter, she didn't want it anymore, and somehow it ended up with me.  I cannot imagine EVER getting rid of it.  I've used it everyday for 23 years.

Victoria's Secret actually used to make stuff that looked like this. Can you imagine?

My sheets ...

Random candelabra from the Women's Exchange ... this and the bathrobe hook remind of the crochet roses--pretty much the same thing, just different mediums: metal and yarn.  Two completely different things can create such similar final products.

I bought this in January of my freshman year of college at a store on King Street in Malvern.   There was a whole set of them--at least six--but they were priced separately. I couldn't afford the set, so I only allowed myself to buy one.  I wish I had sucked it up and bought the whole set.

(My camera could not focus on these to save its life.)  The rosy plates my mom gave me for Valentine's day ... I don't know ... ten years ago, maybe?

Ok, I bought the washi tape for LAST year's Valentine's but this still counts.

My legs are too short for almost any chair anywhere in the world. (I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Bar stools are the worst--very painful.  The rung for your feet is always two inches too low--completely killer on the knees and back.  There is no comfortable way to sit on those.  The stools at Iron Hill ARE THE WORST--I would have to be four inches taller to enjoy them.  Truthfully though, I've never sat comfortably at any bar ever.) My mom bought this for me at HomeGoods two years ago so that I could sit at my own kitchen table with a cat on my lap; with the foot stool, the cat doesn't slide off because my legs (which would otherwise be slanted precariously toward the ground in my feets' desperate effort to reach the floor); additionally, it prevents me from contemplating suicide because my own house lacks chairs that "fit" me. This little thing has so drastically improved my quality of life of that sometimes I'm tempted to bring it with me to OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES because that is how much I don't fit into chairs.  I make a lot of jokes about being short--let me tell you, people: It sucks.

Oh right, my wedding china.

Lulu Guiness glasses ... this one really surprised me since it played no role in my selection of these glasses.  It's just there.

One lamp ...

... two lamps.

And there's probably other stuff that I forgot that I'll notice later this month.  As I type this, I'm thinking, "I forgot a towel: It's turquoise AND has roses on it."

(And ... there's this skirt ...)

I'll need a decent game plan for distributing the Valentine's this year. They're extremely three-dimensional, so if one DOES arrive in your mailbox this weekend, it will be because I drove it to your mailbox personally ... not because I paid USPS/UPS/FedEx to do it for me ... I need to figure out something flat for next year ...

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