I just wanna know why I’m so uncomfortable sharing pictures of myself that include me? Oh sure, I’m perfectly comfortable telling ya’ll all about my sewing mistakes (and progress – thus, new sleeves!) but I’m so dang shy about exposing the fact that I survived life, thus far.  In fact, I feel very panicked about this impending exposure at the moment and, thus, am going to throw in a picture of myself when I was 30 so you can see that I was, once, young, inexperienced, less smart than now, poor, and totally hot.

It’s a long, skinny picture. That’s because I was once long and skinny. In fact, until I lost 20 pounds (recently) I always thought that if I lost 20 pounds I’d look like I did when I was 30, but instead I now look 49. which is surprisingly accurate, but was not my intention. Also notice that I left my 501 cut-off’s appropriately long. That’s because I was tubing the Guadalupe river with some co-workers, and I was concerned about appearing, well, inappropriate. And yet I do recall drawing the line at wearing anything appropriate up top because, duh: six-pack abs.

30-all

<sob>.

HOW DO I STOP THIS AGING THING WITHOUT DYING? I need me a pattern for that.

Ok, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way I can show you how my badass 49 year old survivor self rocks the Scout Tee in some Alexander Henry. I bought the fabric a year and a half ago because  I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I should have seen this sewing obsession coming. I only struggled with the 1/4″ seams and the 1/8″ staystiching, and I’m sure that was my sewing machine(s) fault. Pretty sure. Kinda. Or maybe inexperience.

Maybe that’s the trade off for making it to 49? Discovering I can be 49 and still be inexperienced at something?

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