People assume that because I write about sewing, I must always be impeccably dressed in handmade outfits. Let me destroy that illusion: as I type this, I’m wearing mismatched socks and pajama pants I’ve had since college.
There’s a certain freedom in sewing clothes for a living while refusing to wear “real pants.” My uniform is 90% pajamas, 9% “presentable enough for Zoom,” and 1% “oh crap I have to leave the house.”
The funniest part? No one notices when I wear my makes versus store-bought clothes. Except that one time I wore a skirt with the pockets still basted in. That got some looks.
