Why is it that it's the littlest person in my house with the biggest attitude? It's often said that you get the sort of offspring that you yourself were like as a child, but not me. I was a good, considerate, complacent little girl and I have ended up with a daughter who thinks she's Ellen Ripley. If you cross her path or answer her incessant questioning in the wrong way, she will smite you down with a single glance or scream. What's worse is that none of my friends believe me when I tell them how full-on Sophie is; she is the perfect child when we're in the company of others. It's quite amazing to see how she works and I'd love to know what's going on inside her head. She's exhausting and fascinating all at once.
During my recent attempt at cleaning out my cupboards, I came across this Blondie t-shirt that I picked up at the op-shop a couple of years ago shortly after I had Sophie, having the intention of re-sizing it for her at some stage. It was a woman's small size (whatever that means), but cheap and poorly cut with twisted seams, so twisted in fact it was nearly impossible to get the little t-shirt pattern I cut to sit on it evenly. If the t-shirt pattern had been a size bigger, it would not have worked. I made it just in the nick of time! I had to use another black t-shirt I had in my stash to cut the long sleeves (you can see the difference in shades slightly).
It's not really my intention to dress her in this sort of stuff all the time (I prefer to make her simply cut, vintage style clothes), but, hey, it's Blondie. Debbie Harry was (and still is, in my opinion) Queen of Rock Chicks. Beautiful and bad-ass - how I loved her.
I quickly ran up some tartan knickers from a pattern I'm working on for next summer. And after sewing these, I will have to continue to work on it. Not quite right, but getting there. These are good for dress-ups, although I'm only guessing when I'm assuming that rock chicks wear tartan undies. More than likely they don't, but they just complete the look. Well I think they do, the whole early eighties is something of a vague memory these days.
And funnily enough, to add insult to the injury with regards to the blurry reminiscence of my tweens, Sophie calls this her 'old lady shirt'. Ouch. Apologies to Debbie Harry.
Sophie May is at her Nanna's today, giving my brain and ears some much needed relief. While she's there, she will no doubt be like this....
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