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#if i could sew….id be unstoppable
brigittefitzgerald · 6 months
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2000s gothic circus fairy cabaret steampunk fashion>>>
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moodr1ng · 1 year
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tbh it maddens me that i hate sewing w a sewing machine so much that i just cant bring myself to do it bc. like. if i could just manage that i would do SO much. im very very limited in the stuff i do w my clothing by the fact that everything is done by hand w my limited dexterity/skill and very, very, very slowly. the stuff that takes me a full hour takes 10 mins on a machine if even that, so ofc i tend to just do small alterations or projects. if i didnt have this huge stupid mental block about using a machine ohhhh the stuff id make...
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michameinmicha · 2 years
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When i grow up i want to be whatever it is rachel maksy has going on
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rjalker · 3 years
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[ID: A digital drawing of a person from the waist up, standing in a room with light blue tiled walls, with grey windows that show grey and red-brick buildings in the distance, with a pale blue sky.
The person has sunburned skin visible on shay face, neck, and hand, and is wearing a blue jacket over a pink and green shirt.The jacket is covered in patches and pins and sewed-on pockets. Shay are holding a pale pink suitcase in one arm, and have shay other hand lifted, showing a large mechanism tied to shay wrist with leather straps, with a grey metal peice at the end with splotches of pink and blue on it. The rest of it is colored yellow, green, orange, and blue.
The person is wearing a brown sunhat with a purple ribbon tied around it, with a pin with stripes of yellow, green, orange and blue. The pins and patches on the jacket come in a variety of shapes: circles, squares, rectangles, and an octagon, in the colors of the trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer flags, as well as the yellow, green, orange, and blue flag on the hat, and a flag with stripes of light blue, dark blue, white, purple, and light blue, as well as some patches that are solid orange, pink, purple, and blue.
One large square patch on the pink and green shirt combines the trans pride flag with the light blue, blue, white, and purple flag, with the number of stripes matching up so they are almost even, and sharing the white stripe in the middle.
A light green button over shay heart reads, “My pronoun is shay”, and shay is wearing glasses whose lenses are in a gradient from blue to purple, with blue arms and a purple nose piece.
End ID.]
“I’m an archaeologist :) I’m here to steal your clothes :)”
Wild Future, whose pronoun is simply “shay” (and “shayself”). Shay chose shay name shayself, can you tell? Shay aren’t a time traveller or anything, shay just thinks the name is cool.
the Mojave Wasteland specific gender flags are these:
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[ID: A small square pride flag with horiztonal stripes of: cyan, dark blue, white, purple, and cyan, next to another flag with four horizontal stripes of: yellow, green, orange, and turquoise. End ID.]
I haven’t decided what the first one is yet,besides it being some sort of xenogender. I’m using the same colors to make a shay/shayself pronoun flag, but this version with the five stripes is something else.
The second one is a cazadore-related gender :) and yes Wild has probably been stung multiple times because shay has terrible luck. How is shay still alive? The world may never know. (just kidding, friendly people on the road helped because people are generally nice).
Fun fact: Cazadores are based on tarantula hawk wasps, probably specifically  Hemipepsis ustulata.
SPECIAL stats and perks and more info below the cut for fun.
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SPECIAL stats:
Strength: 8/10 (Circus Strongman)
Perception: 5/10 (Wary Trout)
Endurance: 5/10 (Stain-Resistant)
Charisma: 5/10 (Substitute Teacher)
Intelligence: 8/10 (Know-It-All)
Agility: 2/10 (Accident Prone)
Luck: 1/10 (13 Pitch-Black Cats) (probably explains the sunburn)
Main skills:
Repair (100)
Melee Weapons (100)
Unarmed (100)
“History” (80)
Perks:
Swift Learner
Comprehension
Educated (where though????)
Lead Belly
Strong Back
Unstoppable Force
Jury Rigging
Paralyzing Palm
Explorer
Ranger Takedown
Main weapons:
Powerfist (which I drew wrong but oh well)
Knife
Bumper sword
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Other info about the dream, copy and pasted from the first post I made:
I was hunting Pack Raiders from Fallout 4 specifically so I could steal their colorful clothes.
Wild is an archaologist and/or historian, a master in the repair skill, and a master of hand-to-hand combat, including the use of “hand-to-hand weapons” despite that being an oxymoron. Mainly shay used a powerfist as shay main weapon, but if that broke and shay didn’t have time to fix it, shay would substitute it with a knife or, more rarely, a sword.
Shay also had a sunhat / cowboy hat but the picrew doesn’t have any I like.
Shay doesn’t actually needed glasses, shay just wanted them because they’re pretty. The clothes were also all more brightly colored because have you seen the Pack Raider gang??? I love their style. Too bad I have to kill them all and Fallout 4 doesn’t let you make more of their clothes.
Also just a link to the first post
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eviefrie · 3 years
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and also while im at it (sorry to annoy you but sewing is where all of my passion and energy has gone to for the past two years at the expense of all my other hobbies. love the adhd experience.) once you start sewing, id say after a couple of months, you become UNSTOPPABLE like you dont wanna buy the shitty mass manufactured clothes because you know that you could make them FIT YOU out of MUCH BETTER QUALITY SUPPLIES or even buy clothes AND THEN TAILOR THEM TO FIT YOU. OREVEN RECYCLE OLD CLOTHES
yeah!!! i have some sewing experience (a machine, i did some classes and theatre costuming when i was younger) and like it’s SO fun but i don’t have room for my machine where i’m currently living and def no room for fabric 😔😔😔
i feel you so hard abt the clothes thing tho. i am currently deep into the crochet rabbit hole and i haven’t gotten to garment making Yet but i really go to the extra effort to use natural fiber yarn when possible just bc the thought of putting more microplastics into the world when i could work with real wool (or cotton, or hemp or linen but those are harder to find) is…insane? and also i just love wool it’s so nice. and it drives me CRAZY that it’s hard to find nice clothes, esp. pants, that aren’t made from polyester or smth and i would love to like, be able to make my own jeans and stuff. to say nothing of how much i hate measuring/cutting fabric bc scissors are my Enemy
hopefully someday!!
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elsewhereuniversity · 7 years
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Cornerwitch
I was inspired by Elsewhere and The Cornerwitch. I hope it is good. 
Everyone in their little town called them Cornerwitch. Not much was known about their background or their home life, only that if you needed something (protection, beauty, luck, sleep, anything) they had a spell or a potion or a rune to help-for a price. They never charged very much, and if you were desperate enough they gave freely. This Cornerwitch was generous.
Their origin stretched back to the beginning of middle school for them. They found a book of the Fae in the school library and they could hear it calling to them. They devoured every last word of it and then looked for more. The next time they went to the library there was a book of witchcraft waiting for them on a table and they devoured that one too. Book after book after book until their parents found out and punished them harshly, but at that point it was too late.
They got clever with their witchcraft after that. Carving runes into worrystones so they were nearly impossible to find, sewing them into underclothes, turning potion mixes into tea bags, turning bibles into portable hidden altars; they were unstoppable. They started selling their spells and tea and runes their sophomore year of high school when their parents found one of their altars.
They saved what they could from their parents’ rampage and in order to restock started to sell in return for offerings of dried herbs and crystals and anything else they could get their hands on.
They sold calming draughts as tea bags, protection runes in worry stones, luck spells in small bottle necklaces, healing potions in pastes to be spread over bruises and scrapes and cuts. Cornerwitch had what you needed.
Their senior year changed. Their parents found out about their business and something changed in them. People who went to Cornerwitch came back and warned people not to look too long and to bring salt or iron with them. There was something sharper about them, something new and other about the bruises and the grimace and the hollow smile as Cornerwitch bargained with those desperate enough to seek them out and warnings were given as though Cornerwitch were Fae. Be careful, was the whisper of the wind in the ears of those who looked for them, Be wary.
By the time they were to go to college the birth name they put on their application and student ID for Elsewhere University was as much them as any nickname as they had ever worn.
Cornerwitch walked around campus free of burning iron and protective salt as they offered deals to students naive or desperate enough to take them, their hollow smile full of sharp teeth and air moving in waves around them as the flutter of unseen wings sprouting through the cape they wore caressed the faces of those they passed.
Rumors had it they studied the forbidden major. Rumors had it they walked completely unprotected at all times of the day. Rumors had it they dealt deals with the Fae as often as they dealt deals with humans. Rumors had it Cornerwitch wasn’t human and if you had the sight you would see exactly who their parents had turned them into.
The truth was in two hearts that beat as one on the high court of the Fae where their parents could never harm them again.
[x]
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otziuk · 7 years
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From the age of 6 until 10, my Saturday nights were always the same; I would goto my grans for a home made roast chicken dinner, watch Gladiators on the telly, spend the night in the spare room in a huge double bed and listen to my grans cassette tapes full of ‘the oldies’ tunes. I loved staying at my grans house. She had a huge chest full of vintage dress up clothes that I used to play with and prance around the house in. She had a corner in her living room where she made clothes and trinkets for little dolls. She would let me rummage around in that corner like a little magpie. There were boxes and drawers full of shiny fabric, buttons, sequins, lace, everything a little girl dreams of playing with. She was so artistic and creative. I grew up watching my gran paint the most incredible artwork. She would use the tiniest paint brushes and a magnifying glass to paint in the most intricate details, street signs in the distance and collars on dogs. She is self taught, no degree or formal training, just years and years of practice and passion.
Landscape painting by Nora Macdonald
Her paintings went through phases, as most artists do. She once created a series of paintings with all the grandkids and pets in them, I would always rush to find out how she painted me and my sister. She painted a series set in Glasgow; old post war Glasgow streets and more recent works around the West End and in George Square. She preferred to take photos at the location then take her time at home adding all of the details in at her own pace. She told me she used to get weird looks and comments from passers by when she took photos of their dogs!
The whole family have always been in awe of her talent, many of us have been inspired by her creativity and have used it in our lives. She always encouraged us to create; she taught us how to make our own finger puppets, sew our own halloween costumes, draw and shade using charcoal. We had our very own Art attack granny! This is a tradition I have been so excited to continue with my son. Whenever we have free time, we are always making and creating at home, I am hoping this gives him the same creative spark that my gran passed onto me.
Around 10 years ago, my gran stopped painting. Her eyesight began to worsen and it seemed to have affected her confidence. Of course, being far too creative and stubborn to just put her feet up, she concentrated on her gardening. She has now been recognised in her community and has won awards for her amazing garden, people who walk by always stop to comment on how beautiful and lavish it is. Her eyesight deteriorated to the point that she needed surgery, this was an extremely worrying time for all of us. She spent a few days seeming defeated, but as soon as she got home, saw a few stray weeds in the garden, she bounced back! Not long after she recovered from surgery, she started drawing again, to our delight! She was given a Lord of the Rings adult colouring book to mess around with, but being my gran, she took it to the next level. She created the most impressive, diverse and detailed colouring book I have ever seen, what can’t this woman do with a set of basic pencils! You could see my grans confidence growing again. She got back her glow. Next was a visit to the art store, where she bought, for the first time in over 10 years, a canvas and paint set. She rummaged through her drawers of old photos, selected a series of landscape photos that she had from previous trips to the country, and has been unstoppable ever since! Every time we pop up for a cuppa, there she is behind her canvas, magnifying glass in hand, painting individual leaves on the trees.
Pastel drawing of Helena Bonham Carter by Nora Macdonald 1991
A few weeks ago, I took a snap of my gran in the process of painting her newest piece, and posted in onto a local Facebook page for artists, you know, because I just wanted to show off how amazingly talented and great my gran is. The response was overwhelming, hundreds of comments and love for my gran brought me to tears. I had mentioned in my post that a number of my grans paintings were stolen in Glasgow around 20 years ago, and I received replies requesting to elaborate on the mystery of the missing art in the hopes that my grans work might be found again. This idea got my mind racing! Yes, I should try my hardest to find these pieces, even if I find one that would be a miracle, and who better to help me than the wonderful world of the internet!
So, last week I went to visit my gran again, we sat down and I asked her what happened to her paintings. She warned me that her memory of it all is a little hazy, but she will try.  Around 1994, she was put in contact with a man who commissioned paintings for a small art gallery in Bearsden, she handed over a few of her pieces to display in the gallery, so far all was well. Unfortunately the man who owned the gallery passed away some time later. His wife contacted my gran asking her to collect her artwork as the gallery was closing down. She quickly arranged for her paintings to be brought home at which point she thought that the idea of displaying her art again was too much hassle. Soon after she got her work home, she was told that ‘a friend of a friend’ had another gallery in the West End of Glasgow where she could display and sell her pieces. She had never met the person in question but trusted her contact. She asked that one of her paintings, titled ‘Halcyon Days’,  were not to be sold but displayed only, and that prints of this piece that she had made could be sold instead.
Halcyon Days by Nora Macdonald
A few weeks went by, and there was not much communication. My gran asked to contact the new gallery to find out how her paintings were doing, she was told that her ‘Halcyon Days’ painting had been sold. This was extremely upsetting and she had considered bringing all of her work back home again. A number of weeks passed by again, but still no interaction with the new gallery. Her contact then informed her that the gallery had mysteriously closed down and that everything inside had disappeared! No forwarding address or phone number, and no name to follow. This blatant act of crime shattered my grans confidence, her rage and disappointment destroyed her desire to ever show her artwork again. By this point she was too exhausted to try and track down her stolen art, so she took her bad experience, locked it up in a box and never talked about it again. Her paintings from then on were very private and rare to see.
As she told me her story, my gran started flipping through her drawer of photos. She pulled out an album labeled ‘My Paintings’. As we looked through the old photos I began to remember the story behind every painting. Unfortunately the photographs were taken with a bright flash so most of the pictures were blurry and washed out. I assured her I would try my hardest to take them home, scan and correct them as much as I could so members of the public could possibly recognise them if they have spotted them. Below are a few of the paintings that were stolen. All original works are missing, all finished with a single signature ‘Nora’.
Painting of George Square by Nora Macdonald
Photograph of painting by Nora Macdonald
Painting by Nora Macdonald
When she started painting last year, we could all see that spark return. She will never display or sell her paintings again, only painting for family or herself. At the grand age of ** I think she deserves to do something just for herself, she has spent her entire life raising her 5 kids, so many more grandkids, stray cats (which there have been hundreds over the years!) and other passers by. She was always the granny who would take people in, fatten them up, make sure they feel loved and confident enough to go back out into the world a stronger person.
I could rant about my granny until the cats come home, but I am here in the hopes of a miracle. I am hoping that these images will get enough exposure that someone will recognise them and get in touch. Perhaps they are still hiding somewhere in Glasgow, perhaps they are gathering dust in an attic somewhere a lot farther. If you have seen any of these paintings on your travels, you could be reuniting a Glasgow legend with her lost art. Please contact me at [email protected] or via my site http://www.mishmallow.co.uk for information or to give me great news! Come on internet, I believe in you!
The Hunt for Glasgows Stolen Paintings. Help us find a local legends artwork. From the age of 6 until 10, my Saturday nights were always the same; I would goto my grans for a home made roast chicken dinner, watch Gladiators on the telly, spend the night in the spare room in a huge double bed and listen to my grans cassette tapes full of 'the oldies' tunes.
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