All of these are the titles of stories in which an article of red clothing was worn as a sign of shame. But this particular red piece of clothing was worn with pride! It's my little red blazer. I bought it at a vintage shop in New Orleans called On the Other Hand (which is a very fun place). The store's owner told me it was made in the 40s, which would make it at least 3 times my age. It's so fun wearing something that has a history.
However, history had taken its toll on this jacket. The lining was practically deteriorating, and has been for some time now. So this weekend, I stictched that up. By hand. Hence the pride part.
Here it is, all patched up!
There used to be a hole there, but now there's not! Because I sewed it!
Here it is on. The fuzzy little black thing may appear to be a family pet, but no. It's a stalker. And please exscuse the bedroom slippers. It was a Sunday, and I rarely get dressed on Sundays. This was actually my first Sunday spent outside of my bedroom in all of 2009. I'm off to a flying start!
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