Ever since your fan-pfaffing-tastic post featuring boro textiles, it’s been all boro, all the time around here. Anything that is getting a little scruffy, I feel like I ought to put a patch on. Trouble is, it’s a quick slide back to my personal 1970s, with ‘patchwork’ print fabric (polyester double-knit being the medium of choice), hippy embroidery on dirty jeans (“Um, Kay, the blue eyeshadow and hot-rollered hair? Not so Janis Joplin.”), and the dreaded iron-on fake denim patches that never faded, but slowly peeled off your pants, leaving you utterly humiliated.
I exSPECIALLY like the idea of knitted denim patches. (Is there anyone who didn’t see that coming?)
Joseph has a pair of Original Fit jeans from the Gap. Size 6, so skinny they could make you cry. One knee is kaflooey and the other one has a white spot that is going to blow any minute. They are the perfect length, just grazing the tops of his sneakers. Since his ankles surely will be peeking out by Thanksgiving, I didn’t want to buy another pair in this size. I had no choice, really, but to knit up two denim patches.
Installation was easy, since I have a million yards of 2-ply Texere denim, which makes tough sewing thread.
I sewed the cable patch on the inside, to preserve the cool-looking hole.
Joseph put them on and wore them for about 12 hours before he noticed anything different. When he asked, I told him, in my best la-la-la-there-is-nothing-wrong-here tone of voice, that they were patches to cover the holes in his jeans.
As you have pointed out, boys can be quite linear in their reasoning. Joseph now insists that the cable patch be removed and put on the outside, to better serve my stated purpose of covering the hole. The hole still shows. Who can argue with that?
The inside cable patch looks so cute when he bends his knees. I am going to try to wait him out. HAHAHAHAHAHA.
And not for nothing, but even Lilly Pulitzer is jumping on the boro bandwagon:
Bless her heart, this girl had to cut up all her capris to make a pair of jeans! Seriously, I think this concept would be way cuter on a little girl whose mom has a righteous stash of Amy Butler fabric, for example.
Three Hours to Buy a Witch Costume
My kids used to wear handmade Halloween costumes that were months in the planning and shipped all the way from Nebraska by my best-friend-since-second-grade, who cares truly, madly and deeply about Halloween costumes and the hand-making thereof. Those days are gone. These days we go to Ricky’s and buy cheesy costumes like everybody else. A dubious ‘vampire’ dress, a wig-hat, and a makeup kit, and you’re good to go. One match and you’d melt into a puddle of polymer, but you’re plenty scary:
The key is finding the right stoop to stand in front of.
But most New Yorkers don’t really have to dress up for Halloween.
(Aw just kiddin’ Jane and Leslie! MUCH hair and makeup was required to make you look like horrible crones. SO MUCH!)
Have a great trick or treat,