From rags to rags

My tiny little kitchen gets a lot of use, and I've gone through tons of kitchen dishcloths. Not explicitly for dishes, mind you, but those cloths that are used to wipe down hands, wipe up spills and clean those other culinary messes.

I've always gotten plain and boring-looking dishcloths, store-bought. I would regularly launder them, sure, but over time, those dishcloths become threadbare, stained and just kinda icky.

So this weekend, I tossed the last of my last dishcloths, went up to the city for the weekend and realized I needed a solution upon my return.

It came to me something like this: old bath towel, bit of decorative cloth, some hems - a-ha!

I don't normally cut up bath towels, but this was a worn, junior-sized piece of terrycloth, once white, that somehow got washed with a red beach towel and turned pink years ago. It was also my designated "hair turban," that I felt I could live without.

My problem was restraining myself from making the dishcloths look too pretty. Snippets from my internal crafty monologue: How about this floral print? Does it need ribbon as an accent? No, it'll be wiping up your coffee stains. But what about a lace trim?

Luckily, that monologue was short-lived: the dishcloths are hanging in their new home.

The experimental apron-smock

You know when you think you have a really great idea, but then halfway through the production process you realize it's not going to manifest the way you want, and you're ready to abandon it?

That was almost the ending for this project, a former H&M pinstripe button-up shirt I acquired through a friend's closet dump.

I love challenges: I wanted to deconstruct all of the pieces and make something new. The subtle blues were so pretty, and I was hungry for a new dress.

But my appetite lacked foresight. I envisioned using the back panels of the shirt as the front of a new dress. But after cutting out the sleeves and shirt fronts to refashion into panels, I shortly ran out of fabric.

In my stash, I had pieces of a pale blue pinstripe men's shirt that coordinated perfectly. But most of that shirt had gone by the way of several tote bags and other projects, leaving me with only limited sizes and not very useful shapes, either.

A friend pointed out that it looked like a great apron, so I was ready to concede. Less fabric, right?

This afternoon, I finished it - hemmed all the sides, added a dainty pocket, attached the neck straps, added some back straps.

But you know what? Even after all my handiwork, I couldn't get over a fundamental struggle: I don't wear aprons!

And so, my solution: get a wire hanger, drape it on the wall. Remember Sad Dress No. 1? That one's still in my bedroom. It now has a teammate, Failed Apron-Smock No. 2.

Underwood typewriter

A find on the Oregon coast, at Little Antique Mall, one of my favorite antique consignment shops.

I wanted the quaint but timeless reminder of how every letter counts as a striking note on a page.

Shod in shoes

These Target shoes were missing a grommet. But is that going to stop me from purchasing the last size 7 pair? Of course not!

After I received my 10 percent discount, I got home and began my button reconnaissance. I collect buttons, ribbons and sewing notions rather haphazardly, from Goodwill and cast-off clothes. I've been known to pick up sparkly things off the sidewalk to save for later. Kind of like a crow.

My search was a success: I found two nautical-themed buttons and two round gold buttons given to me by a friend. (She was fashioning her own dirndl, but I digress.) A little needle and thread, a little craft glue on top - brava! I created the illusion of buttons on shoes.

Please cross your fingers for me that these buttons stay affixed throughout the rainy season.

Taiwanese tapestry

My dear friend Chewy brought back a beautiful remnant of Taiwanese fabric from her travels.

It's a traditional print of peony bouquets that Taiwanese women would often use for home decoration. When the Japanese came to rule Taiwan, the fabric was exported to Japan and also became incorporated in bedrooms there.

More history on the fabric can be found here.

I love how the vibrant colors are similar to Mexican-print oil cloths.

On the tapestry: I just hemmed the sides, purchased a $.99 dowel from a local craft store and tacked up ribbon.