A bit of a warning is needed, nothing triggering, but I grew up in Italy so if something sounds odd in English you’ll know why.
The title of this post means The Time of the Apples. No, I’m not drunk of apple cider, but it’s the Italian translation of the French movie “La Boum“, which I always associated with adolescence.
And at the dawn of my 40s, I feel like a teenager again (or still…).
One thing I would often heard when growing up: “It’s a weird time, they are not fish nor meat”… aka… not grown-up but not kids anymore. And that’s very comparable to how I feel now at times.
The most common traits of adulthood can be observed: I have a job with plenty of responsibilities, pay my bills in time, have a saving account, plan to buy a house to start hoarding kittens, work out, eat healthy, etc. etc.
But I also still have some very typical teenager traits I carry around since the 90s: I’m socially awkward, listen to music too loud in my headphones, wear black and studded belts, get continuous crushes on cute guys with blue eyes I’ll never talk to.
I was hoping I would get more confident and charming as the 40th year of my stay on Earth approaches, instead I got crow’s feet.
So, what triggered this post?
Tonight I came home, banged the door of my (living) room, put on Swedish punk and started sewing out of frustration and shame for being such a silly woman, who gets all embarrassed after saying Hi to Mr. Cute Guy and running away.
Probably breaking 3635 rules of proper sewing, I grabbed a piece of black jersey, leftover of the loose top project, adapted the same pattern on the go, cut two identical pieces and sewed a black off-the-shoulder top.
The sleeves are finished with the usual method:
- Cut 2 bands of the length of the sleeve hole
- Match the right sides of the band and the top
- Pin all around
- Fold in half and pin again
- Sew all around and turn
I find this very quick, but very neat finish for the sleeves. The neck and the bottom are not hemmed for a more rebellious teenager’s look.
The whole process took less than an hour and tomorrow I’ll have something new to wear for work and show all my teenage angst.
Or not. Since I always wear black.
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Updated with a picture of me at the park today modelling the new top and the strappy bralette both sewn by me.
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