Right, this cannot be healthy. After finishing a couple of large projects, do I feel pleased, satisfied, at peace with myself? Not really. I’m pleased, yes, I feel a certain sense of accomplishment, but I feel even more lost, restless, without meaning or direction in life. The instant cure? Planning a new large project or three. I’m not sure this is good for me, but it can’t be much worse than drink or religion as comforting habits go, can it?
The greenish plaid wool had sold out, of course, but I bought the remaining piece of the other wool I got at the same sale, a rust and grey herringbone tweed. I have 2,6 m now, enough for a very simple jacket and skirt. Belted back, I’m thinking, and I’ve been looking at Norfolk jackets, although I very much doubt if I can squeeze that much detail out of just 1,8 m or so.
I had a bit of an accident with m/1939 wadmal, too; I went to one of my favourite fabric shops to look at lingerie elastic and lace, and they had Swedish military surplus fabric, the kind used in enlisted m/1942 kv uniforms. My loden budget is now gone, but in my defense this wadmal is every bit as good for winter coats. It’s a warm grey, and I rather wanted a coat in a colour, but I will have to try to live with that. I will also have to try not to make a more or less useless replica out of misplaced reverence for the fabric, since m/42 kv is my kryptonite, apparently. I completely forgot about the lace and elastic, of course, and two close friends I met up with, both burlesque artists, seemed bemused at the idea of going out to buy lace appliqués and coming home with wadmal instead.
Also, I remembered that I still have a 3,7 m piece of black wool blend cavalry twill to make whoopee with. A completely unnecessary uniform-inspired black suit with lots and lots of delicious padding, shaping and tailoring might bring just the feeling of meaning and direction I need at the moment. I can justify a black pencil skirt, at least. What’s that you say? Sensible? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you?