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eredienUnfortunately, this entry is not about esgalaith's fuzzy cat.
I have been very productive in the past two days, cleaning my house, doing laundry, putting away books (more on this in a future post), and generally making my half-moved-in-to apartment livable.
I was so proud of how I'd saved my delicate laundry for last, and set it in on the delicate cycle, so as not to ruin the $100+ worth of new and gently used clothes I just bought two weeks ago.
You have to understand that the last sentence is a rare one. I hardly ever buy clothes. And when I do they don't fit, I don't like them, and/or they're too expensive for me to even get them, and so I just wear what I have until it starts falling apart.
For some reason, the corporate American workplace in which I find myself currenly ensconced frowns upon t-shirts emblazoned with Neil Gaiman characters.
So two weeks ago I trudged through the floodwaters (our roof was leaking, there were boats in other parts of the state) without a coat on to the Mecca of Shopping which is The Garment District. I emerged, much to my suprise, with over 10 items of sensible, beautiful, well-fitted work-appropriate clothing for less than $200, having paid no more than $12 for anything in the store.
Some of the followng items were in the load of laundry I just did:
- a brand-new, brought-from-England and treasured William Morris tea towel featuring the frontispiece to the Kelmscott Press edition of News from Nowhere
- a brand-new white two-piece summer sweater set with tiny inoffensive pink flowers and clusters of equally small and tasteful pearls, bought to go with the
- pink and taupe skirt
- a taupe linen short skirt
- a taupe linen short-sleeved summer blouse
- a taupe linen pair of shorts which are the only pair of shorts I own
- a comissioned-from-a-friend one-of-a-kind dragon t-shirt with wings on the back I was going to wear to Anthrocon
- a blue silk wraparound skirt with silver embroidered peacocks which I thought had been washed before.
- a white bedsheet
- a pair of light green linen pants
- a beautiful long semi-chinoserie-style gold raw-cotton button-down shirt
The skirt had not been washed before.
Everything is now blue. Not even a uniform shade of light blue, but a kind of tie-dye effect with patches and concentrations.
The first small load, after soaking in color-safe bleach for an hour, is now on the extra-extra-rinse cycle in the washing machine.
Also, due to the depravaties of the washing machine, the hem of the peacock skirt unraveled in the wash. The peacocks, by the time I fished them out, were laughing, winking, and nudging each other, complimenting themselves on a job well-done in turning what was a extremely productive two-weekends-in-a-row spurt into something a bit more frustrating.
I don't want to or have money to go buy new clothes again. Sigh.
I have been very productive in the past two days, cleaning my house, doing laundry, putting away books (more on this in a future post), and generally making my half-moved-in-to apartment livable.
I was so proud of how I'd saved my delicate laundry for last, and set it in on the delicate cycle, so as not to ruin the $100+ worth of new and gently used clothes I just bought two weeks ago.
You have to understand that the last sentence is a rare one. I hardly ever buy clothes. And when I do they don't fit, I don't like them, and/or they're too expensive for me to even get them, and so I just wear what I have until it starts falling apart.
For some reason, the corporate American workplace in which I find myself currenly ensconced frowns upon t-shirts emblazoned with Neil Gaiman characters.
So two weeks ago I trudged through the floodwaters (our roof was leaking, there were boats in other parts of the state) without a coat on to the Mecca of Shopping which is The Garment District. I emerged, much to my suprise, with over 10 items of sensible, beautiful, well-fitted work-appropriate clothing for less than $200, having paid no more than $12 for anything in the store.
Some of the followng items were in the load of laundry I just did:
- a brand-new, brought-from-England and treasured William Morris tea towel featuring the frontispiece to the Kelmscott Press edition of News from Nowhere
- a brand-new white two-piece summer sweater set with tiny inoffensive pink flowers and clusters of equally small and tasteful pearls, bought to go with the
- pink and taupe skirt
- a taupe linen short skirt
- a taupe linen short-sleeved summer blouse
- a taupe linen pair of shorts which are the only pair of shorts I own
- a comissioned-from-a-friend one-of-a-kind dragon t-shirt with wings on the back I was going to wear to Anthrocon
- a blue silk wraparound skirt with silver embroidered peacocks which I thought had been washed before.
- a white bedsheet
- a pair of light green linen pants
- a beautiful long semi-chinoserie-style gold raw-cotton button-down shirt
The skirt had not been washed before.
Everything is now blue. Not even a uniform shade of light blue, but a kind of tie-dye effect with patches and concentrations.
The first small load, after soaking in color-safe bleach for an hour, is now on the extra-extra-rinse cycle in the washing machine.
Also, due to the depravaties of the washing machine, the hem of the peacock skirt unraveled in the wash. The peacocks, by the time I fished them out, were laughing, winking, and nudging each other, complimenting themselves on a job well-done in turning what was a extremely productive two-weekends-in-a-row spurt into something a bit more frustrating.
I don't want to or have money to go buy new clothes again. Sigh.
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(no subject)
27/5/06 19:29 (UTC)Bleach should restore all linen items to a uniform colour, though possibly no longer the shades you started with. Be sure to follow the directions on the bleach bottle.