Empirical-Line Dress

"Nic was looking forward to finally fitting back into her beautiful ball-gowns for all her lovely concerts over Christmas, but WOE!!  During the hiatus of projects that needed pretty dresses, optimal fit has already been passed.  (Yay, of course, but woe too!!)

Time to get out the sewing-machine, and find a copy of 'Dress Alterations for Dummies'..."

It's not that I've been oblivious to the changes, quite the opposite (as posts on the subject will testify) but somehow work and special-occasion clothing exist in another part of my brain's wardrobe section. Like somehow satin and silk have the magical properties that allow them to fit the wearer no matter what size they both are.  

I'd been wearing a gorgeous black satin concert dress I found on eBay for everything. It was my go-to empire-line, floor-skimming, classically elegant black dress and it had slowly replaced all the other concert gowns once I had become too big to wear them. (Notice the quaint notion of things fitting on the way down wasn't given any noggin space on the way up. Denial on the outside, but acknowledgement of the truth on the inside, maybe.) It looked smart, elegant, it covered me up enough that I felt comfortable to be in front of people wearing it. I was still wearing it until a very recently, when it became obvious even to me, that simply by cinching in at the waist with a pretty belt, or taking in at the bodice, it was just too big, and instead of being elegant it made me look like I was wearing a trussed-up bin-bag. An lined satin bin-bag, but a bin-bag none-the-less.

I suspect that that's one of the reasons why I was actually quite shocked in discovering that those ball gowns, stored away (out of sight, out of mind) were too big. That although the dress in which I had worked for so many years was beyond the help of both my sewing skills and even my widest belt, I thought, expected that perhaps now I'd be able to wear my old gowns again. If I let out the corseting a little and sucked in my tummy a bit. But no! Most of them were already slightly baggy around the boobs and waist, and didn't strain across my hips or stomach at all. (The problems with being pear-shaped - you have to buy clothes that either fit well on top, but complain at the seams lower down, or comfortably skim your lower portions, yet gape open at your less than vast tracts of land.)

It's quite the stupifier (a word which my spell-check informs me doesn't exist, but it should, dammit), because not only have I discovered that my expectation of something is way off, but I've also been shown, empirically, that the weight I've lost is noticeable (at last)!  

WOE, but YAY, too!

Senior Coatizen

"Nic has finally put her long-serving Winter coat into much-deserved retirement.

Not so much because it's falling apart (because that fluffy-collared behemoth will be here until after doomsday) but more because falling off the shoulders of the wearer has to (she presumes) go against the very raison-d'etre of Winter coat-kind."

It is a fine indication, however, to just how much my shape has changed over the past couple of years. I really did fit this coat well, and even though there was just enough extra room to wear a decent chunky jumper under it without feeling like a stuffed sausage, it sat well on my shoulders, kept me deliciously warm, and made me feel a little glam, too!

Bought around 1997, full-length, black wool, lined with a soft black watermark satin, and finished off with a luscious and soft faux-fur black collar, I felt glamorous indeed! I imagined I looked a little like one of the heroes from The Matrix, with my long, dramatic coat catching the wind as I walked down the street, although I suspect the reality was that I looked more like a rather squat black-hulled ship in full sail battling rough seas. Never-the-less it made me feel fabulous!

And now, now it is gone. Gone to that second-hand clothes shop in the sky down the street. In all honesty I could have used it as a bedspread, considering the amount of fabric used for its creation, but I'm inclined to believe that it would have preferred to keep its identity as Coat and not debase itself as Blanket.  

And I need to stop anthropomorphising my items of clothing - I'm sure they don't appreciate it.  

Twinkle, Twinkle

...Little Star shawl,

How I wonder what you... 

What you... 

...are all...

about?

Poetry.  Not my forte, as is rather eloquently shown above.  What I can do, however, is turn out little cosmic creations like this:

rain's obsessive stitchery fred sock in 'telltown'

this:

aade lõng artistic 8/2 in 'flame'

and this:

fearless fibres lightweight superwash merino sock yarn in 'sloth'

More stars than there are in the heavens.  No, wait.  That's MGM.  Part of an Amazing and Expanding Universe.   Ah.  Eric Idle may have me for nicking that...  But I suspect you get the idea...

May I present the Gold Star For Effort (or Morning Star) Shawlette. 

I was inspired to create this pattern by a friend on Ravelry who told me, after they saw my Cocktail Umbrella Shawlette, that I deserved a gold star for effort.  It was an innocuous comment that never-the-less took root somewhere at the back of my noggin, which was then jogged to the front after perusing some of my favourite cocktail websites for pattern inspiration, after finding mention of the Morning Star mocktail*. And the final falling in to place came when Rain of Rain's Obsessive Stitchery contacted me about a potential collaboration - her yarn, my pattern!  That plus a little bit of sparkle at the points of each star, and voilà!  A Star (scarf/shawlette) Is Born!  (Oops - sorry Barbra!)

*The Morning Star, by the way, can be a myriad of things: a medieval spiked mace; one of the many names for the planet Venus; a town in Western Virginia; a newspaper; a song by the UK band N-Dubz, but for my purposes, however, the Morning Star is a mocktail, or mock cocktail, and is one of the lesser-known non-alcoholic drinks in the cocktail firmament (see what I did there?!!)  There are a few differences in recipes, but on the whole it seems to involve one teaspoon of sugar, and one of honey, ten fluid ounces of pineapple juice, three pineapple chunks, and mineral water to the top of the glass.

The Gold Star for Effort (or Morning Star) Shawlette is a reversible crescent scarf-shawlette, worked from the star motif edging upwards, with some beads (60 to be exact) for a bit of added (optional) bling. The body of the shawl is worked in garter stitch using short rows.

My testers and myself have used varying amounts of yarn, from 400 yards, to 453, so to be safe, I've suggested that you have at least 450 yards of your chosen yarn before you start.  (The Fred Sock by Rain that I used for the gold version is 463 yards long in total.)

And where can you find this little gem?  HERE, of course.  Ravelry is again playing host and this link will take you through to the pattern page, which is available to all, not just Ravelry members.  Should you wish to purchase straight away (and why not?) feel free to click on the button below.

How much?  Only €4!!  (or £3.40, $5.40, ₪19, NOK32, ¥530.24..) and for the first month you can get 25% (or 1 euro) off with the code 'twinkle'.  Just apply it when prompted at checkout!

Coconut Shells At The Ready

"Nic does occasionally feel like she has embarked upon an epic and almost impossible quest to Thinner-land. A quest where will-power is tested, where her belief in herself is questioned, and her strength of commitment is pummelled and pounded by those who use insults like battering-rams, not caring what they crush as long as they perceive themselves the victor.  

But like in all epic quests, (and epic status updates) abilities once lost, return, glimpses of hope for a successful outcome become more frequent, confidence in self gets bolstered by little victories.

Today is a day of hopeful glimpses and little victories. Another milestone is passed. This one reads 'Four stones'."

Because what's more arbitrary than celebrating UK and US pound loss goals in separate posts? I'm such a universal crowd-pleaser!

In Cake We Trust

"Cheesecake cupcakes: the traditional way to celebrate an *arbitrary*-numbered pound loss. (Little know 'fact': Much like anniversaries, pound loss has items connected to them. For example, 51 is cheesecake cupcakes, 59 is red velvet cupcakes, 65 is a tray-ful of brownies.)"

Fifty-one pounds gone. So much work and patience and blood, sweat and tears. But yes, it's worth it, just for the cupcakes alone!  

I'm totally in it for the long haul and am of the mind that these milestones, arbitrary though they are, should be celebrated in a way I enjoy! So thank goodness for Bettie Crocker and her cupcake mixes, because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't manage to bake this plate of gorgeousness on my own!   

I hope there's room in the freezer...

Sterling Effort

"Nic can finally get her all-time favourite ring back on her finger... It's been what? at least 7 or 8 years since it fitted!"

The simple act of trying on that silver band, and finding it fit back on the finger it was worn on for years prior to the last weight gain, has made my day. No. It's more than that, it's given me more proof that whatever I'm doing is working. It may just look like a simple silver Celtic knot ring to you, but to me it's a promise ring for a healthier future. It hasn't made my day, it has made my life!

A Thigh Of Belief

"Nic decided, seeing as she has lost a fair amount of lbs, that it was a good idea to start using her cross trainer again; and instead of suffering a measly 5 minutes before falling down in a quivering heap like she used to, she can now manage 30 minutes before quivering heapage is attained.

On the other hand, her thighs are never going to forgive her.

Never ever."

And to add insult to injury, I still had to wheel the monster back to its lair in my bedroom from the living room (where there's more space to use it), where it nestles in the gloom of my makeshift wardrobe.

I'm reminded somewhat of an advert for an egg-shaped toy that was around when I was young, Weebles Wobble But They Don't Fall Down, partly because a friend of mine used to call me Weeble, (Not a mean girl at all, just lacking in empathy a bit at times) but also because I really was wobbling there for a second or sixty, however, I decided that falling down on the couch would probably leave my protesting muscles in a worse state.

I just have to hope that by tomorrow my lower extremities will have absolved me of my rotary sins against them.

edit 21st September 2015:  I come back to this post two years later to say that I've just started up again with my rather decrepit, slightly falling apart, but still just about working cross trainer. After discovering walking workouts on YouTube about seven months after I first started bobbing up and down on the cycle, and worrying that the it was starting to wear out having to put up with my extra poundage (something that seemed within the realms of possibility because if it was used more than two consecutive days it started to clunk a little with each peddle turn) I decided it was time to put it out to pasture. Or, in reality, turned it into a clothes horse.

But talking to a friend today about all the things I do to try and lose weight and get fit and healthy, I remembered my trainer-horse and decided to take it out of retirement. It was unsurprisingly dust-free, being buried under too-big concert dresses as it was, so I just needed to spray a little WD40 in pertinent places to convince it it was all going to be okay (and I love the smell, which is always handy), find my MP3 player, and set up a pile of eighties hits. Oh yes, there's nothing like a stationary cycle down memory lane to get the sweat flowing! A Town Called Malice, Lessons In Love, Atomic, Centerfold, Abracadabra, You Spin Me Round (Like A Record), Take On Me, Temptation, It's A Sin...  

My thighs, needless to say, haven't changed their record, though...