good bye internship

stitchplay:

Even now setting in sleeves is one of the most difficult parts of constructing a shirt or dress for me.  The pinning is awkward, it’s difficult to maneuver while sewing, and sometimes your underarm seams just don’t line up!

There’s a way to “cheat” however!  You can leave the side seams of your bodice unsewn, and sew the still flat sleeve on first!  Afterwards you sew a continuous seam along the bodice sides and sleeve underam.  The end product looks and wears the same as the traditional method of setting.


!!Here’s a more detailed explanation with additional pictures!!

I am a very private person, yet I am an open book.
If you don’t ask…I won’t tell.--(via lindsaylately)

(Source: iamboundtowin)

lipstick-autistic:

Autism problems: Knowing certain words and phrases are appropriative of cultural vernacular and that you shouldn’t be using them, but having a hard time not saying them because of your echolalia.

hey audiobooks seem like a cool idea to sew I should listen to AGOT while I work on Ce

But the Dornishman’s blade was made of black steel and its kiss was a terrible thing--

only 2012 kids remember this

  • tourist: excuse me, could you give us directions to Olive Garden?
  • new yorker: No, but I could give you directions to an actual italian restaurant

belerand:

ARIANNE MARTELL WEEK - day #3 {favorite trait}

Hair, sexuality, femininity and confidence.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin  —— (Insp)

“The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real … for a moment at least … that long magic moment before we wake.

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to middle Earth.”

(Source: robbsstrk)

©ID