#like the whole back flap is just a big pocket with the slit either on the inside or the outside

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

one of my favourite aspects of historical children's clothes is the amount of small pockets, especially the ones on petticoats. I just really want to know what toddlers and small children in the 1800s put in their little petticoat or apron pockets. did they carry acorns or cool rocks around. some chalk for playing. maybe a frog. did they get a little bit of money to go buy some candy. did their moms sigh as they picked up their needles to sew a pocket onto a child's petticoat because mooooommmmmm I want a pocket tooooooo (and then stay up late to decorate the pocket edge with some pretty embroidery to match the rest of the petticoat)

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

[doctortdesigns]

The latest collection from Simplicity is here, and it’s… and interesting mix of patterns.  I have to say I’m really excited by a lot of the brand name/licensed lines.  The DC Comics workout gear is totally fab, and there’s a Mimi G. pattern calling my name.  Otherwise, though, I’m not too excited by a lot in this release.  Which is fine, because I’ve got a huge stash of awesome already calling my name, but I had hoped to see a little more in this release to pique my interest.  In any case, there’s a lot of new stuff to look at, so let’s get to it:

8631 – I really like the superhero themed exercise clothes.  I feel like they’d be so fun and motivating to wear to a workout!  Especially if you happen to workout at Nerdstrong Gym (I don’t, but I really want to).  Even without the wonder woman theme, I really like how high the waist band is on all of these leggings – I hate when it feel like things are sliding down in the middle of a workout.

8632 – Again, I really like the leggings here.  Looking at the line drawings, it seems the basic leggings and sports bra are the same in each pattern, but a few of the style details and all of the tops have been changed to make the overall look more in character.

8633 – I think the oversized top here is probably the least favorite of the options, but the front cross on the bra is a cute detail.

8634 – I sort of love the back of this shirt top… if you were running I feel like it would flap like a cape!

8635 – The open back jumpsuit seems to be a popular trend with the pattern companies this spring/summer.  I think I prefer some of the earlier releases, but there is a very laid back summer vibe coming off of this spaghetti strap version.

8636 – Cynthia Rowley.  I’ve never been a fan of the super voluminous patterns on this blog and I’m… not changing my mind now.  There is so. Much. VOLUME!  Normally I buy quite a few of the Cynthia Rowley designs, but this one is going to be an easy pass for me.

8637 – I think I’ve got plenty of wrap dress options in my stash, but this dress is nice if you are looking for a wrap pattern.  The skirt ruffle isn’t too crazy, and it adds a nice summer vibe to the look.

8639 – Mimi G. Style.  I feel like I almost really like this dress.  The overall silhouette and front ruching are great; it’s the under-bust opening and front slit I’m not in love with.  Granted, these would be easy changes, but still something to consider when looking at this design.

8638 – Easy to Sew.  Another dress I almost really like.  I like the asymmetric neckline, but the overall look of the dress is sort of stiff and awkward.  I suppose it’s another look that could be used as a starting point to be altered, but I’m not sure if it is worth the trouble.

8640 – I’m not overly excited by this dress.  The shaped hem makes it interesting, but again it’s that super voluminous thing going on that I’m not such a fan of.  The red version looks a bit toned down compared to the cream colored view, so perhaps it isn’t terrible.  I’d be interested to hear opinions on this look – fab or fug?

8641 – The jumper (pinafore?) style seems to be coming back into vogue in recent years.  This version has some interesting pocket seams going on, and the model view is actually cuter than I’d have expected just from the line drawing.

8642 – I don’t think there’s much left to say about ruffly sleeved tops, except, look, another one!

8643 – I’m sort of torn on this top.  I think the asymmetry gathered hip thing is cool, but I also feel like it looks a bit messy on the model.  But I also wonder how it would look on someone with *ahem* a bit more up top to possible balance it out?  Might be worth using some Loft jersey to play with this pattern. And if view D doesn’t work out, view B looks like a safer bet for fall/winter.

8644 –  More Cuban Pete couture.

8645 – 1950s Vintage reprint pattern.  These tops are actually really cute.  They all seem to have a button up back (not my favorite detail), but I really like the front views.

8646 – Learn to Sew the Trends.  It’s a pretty simple pattern, but I think it’s a cool idea for a pattern line, to perhaps get younger, newer sewists into the hobby.

8647 – More boxy ruffly things.  Moving on.

8648 – I sort of like the top view on the the envelope, where this pattern is being worn as a type of duster.  I’m not sure I’m in love with the actual garment photo though.  Probably a pass for me, but I do think there are some nice design elements here.

8649 – Easy to Sew.  I’m not really that fond of the seaweed seam pants, but I do like the shape of the skirt.

8650 – Learn to Sew the Trends.  The skirts look pretty basic, but it is interesting to note that the belt pouch is back as a “trend.”

8651 – Learn to Sew the Trends.  I think these shorts, while not exciting, look great for summer.  Plus, pockets!

8652 – Very classic pencil skirts.  Love the look in a print.

8653 – The wide legged trouser and front tie top seem to have been a major theme in all the big summer collections this year.  The high-low hem on the top is an interesting interpretation here.

8654 – 1940s Vintage.  Really, this just proves that there is nothing new under the sun.  Also, I may have to get this pattern for those pleated shorts…  You know.  Cuz cosplay.  And stuff.  Just sayin’.

8655 – Mimi G. Style.  Ok, I love me a wide legged jean, so you know these are going on my wishlist.  I have, through the wearing of my Ginger Jeans, come to realize I maybe don’t love a high waist as much as I thought, but I might be willing to make an exception here.  Plus, I love that this top is clearly intended as a cover up… Perfect for participating in the trend without having to expose the midriff if that is an issue for you.

8656 – Easy to Sew.  Despite these being really simple looking patterns, I really like the top and the skirt, though perhaps not so much together?  They both look like quick ways to get super classy pieces though.

8657 – Pattern Hacking.  I’m not sure how much changing the length of something is a “hack,” but this does look super comfortable and oddly chic.

8658 – Pattern Hacking.  There looks to be more “hacking” going on here, but I’m less interested in the basic designs of this simple top.

8659 – 1950s Vintage men’s swimsuit.  Can I just say – with that hair he looks just like a Ken doll.

8660 – Kids clothes.  I feel like this looks like a super practical pattern.

8661 – More kids clothes.  Cute, I guess?  I always have a hard time evaluating kids patterns because I feel like, as a kid I was super bipolar towards clothing.  Some days I wanted to be a princess and other days I didn’t want to wear any of the awful, ruffly 80s s**t that I had available to me.  So, I have no real commentary here, except, look, a dress!

8662 – American Girl. I like the use of trims on the skirts.  The embellishment is a nice feature.

8663 – More kids clothes that are in the vein of the popular adult trends.  Again, no comment as to the overall aesthetic going on here.

8664 – Charlie’s Aunt bags in four styles.  I actually really like the size of the bags; they seem really practical in terms of scale.  The bow designs are perhaps a bit sweet for me, but, overall, I like it.

8665 – American Girl.  The modern day clothes are great, but I wish they’d offer some of the historical design patterns, because those would be more fun to make.

8666 – I feel like making a button down top on this scale would be super challenging.

8667 – And we have a fluffy cat/unicorn/pegasus/mermaid pillow… thing.  Yes, internet, you’ve made life real weird.

8668 – Dinosaur/mermaid sleeping bags.  Yup.  To be fair, if I was three I’d totally want one.

8669 – 1940s vintage apron pattern.  I like view A – it actually seems like a super practical kitchen cover-up.

8670 – Yay cosplay jumpsuits!  The seam lines on the body would be great either for color blocking (as shown) or for doing fit alterations.

8671 – Lolita costume.  I’m not really into the whole Lolita scene, but there are lots of interesting details on this pattern if that’s your jam.

5555 – Jiffy vintage reprint pattern.  This wrap top looks super simple to put together, but I’m wondering how stable it is once you’ve wrapped it on?  The fashion illustrations look fab though.

7650 – Vintage reprint.  I’m not too excited by this giant looking summer dress.  Again – that is just so much volume!

And that’s it!  What do we all think?  Is this a fabulous summer collection, or does it leave something to be desired?  Who else is super excited by the superhero workout gear?  What are your top picks from this release?  Feel free to discuss in the comments!

Summer 2018 Simplicity Patterns #sewing #Simplicity #SimplicityPatterns #patterns #summersewing The latest collection from Simplicity is here, and it's... and interesting mix of patterns.  I have to say I'm really excited by a lot of the brand name/licensed lines. 

[harrison-abbott]

Mother’s Cigarettes

       I wake up with her screaming, again. The lights in my room sting my eyes. I must’ve fallen asleep, but it’s not that late. So, she can’t have gone to bed yet, where she usually wakes up terrified and hollering from some poisonous nightmare nobody else can understand. I realise she’s calling to be from the other room.

    “Stewart!” she cries. “Could you go and get us some more cigarettes?”

    It’s not a request. I have to go and get more smokes. I rise and turn the lights off and dress to go out. I don’t feel like responding to Mother as she keeps repeating the same demand through the wall. When she hears my door close her noise increases like a switch of a nozzle, like I was still seventeen and living with her at home.

    I’m 28 now, and I wonder if Mother still bothers me like she did eleven years ago.

    I leave the hotel and step outside into the city. The January snow has a colourless glow by the last tips of twilight. I head out for the minimarket, rather pleased to be venturing out alone.

    Suddenly, just as I’m leaving the courtyard, I hear a shriek from above me. I can’t believe she’s actually found me from the sky. Mother appears from our hotel room window above.

    “Stewart,” she calls, “where are you going?”

    “To the shops to get cigarettes.”

    “Could you get wine too?”

    “Yes.”

    “Make sure you get more cigarettes.”

    I leave the courtyard quickly to escape her.

    It wasn’t always like this with Mother. Or, was it? She got ill a while back, then got better, and now she’s the same old juggernaut smoker, rampant drinker, blaring round the house whenever she feels the urge. She does it in the hotel room as same as anywhere. We’re in the Czech Republic on holiday; I’m already regretting bringing her here and we’ve only been here two nights.

    But this city is pretty; there are other things in life, right? I watch the trams dart through the streets. In the amber windows of the trams the faces are straight-panned and dour. Though, occasionally a lady looks at me, or so I think. All the ladies in this nation seem to have dark eyelashes. I wonder whether they look at me as how I think about myself: an old man.

    Perhaps I only regard them as good-looking because it’s a man’s nature to think so. But I don’t really think about ladies the way I used to. The girls riding in the train aren’t looking at me with any interest.

    I find a minimarket on the main street, but there’s a huge queue going, so I keep walking further into the town.

    I had an old dame I used to walk with in Europe on holidays too. Are other men looking at her these days? Probably. It was four years ago we split, and only in this last year have I started to reorder my memories of her. Reorder the connotations of her into holistic spite, rather than euphoria or even sentimentality. Most of the memories of her are associated with euphoria.

    That’s probably why I’m 28 and work in an upper-lower-mediocre job. I’d be more judgemental of people in a lower-class profession if I wasn’t clever.

    When I was a kid I used to imagine I’d be an astronaut. I was going to break revelations in outer space. NASA and orbit were my big things.

    When I was 24, I got bottled by some drunk man in my home-nation, on a street walking home at night. You should see how skinny I am. The bottled knocked me unconscious, but that didn’t seem to prevent the drunk man and his three other goons from beating me on the ground more. I was in the hospital for days.

    I find cigarettes in a little shop below an enormous cathedral. As I look up at the spires and hulky golden statues, I imagine who I would have been if I lived here 500 years ago. A serf? Or one of those people accused of witchcraft, who were shackled and tortured, and left to perish slowly on wooden spikes on public streets.

    Would that kind of death have made me more important than a serf?

    I turn back in the direction of the hotel. But, she’s there. So I decide to walk by the river instead, smoking the cigarettes.

    Yep, it was my idea to invite Mother here with me. I suggested it a long time ago, that she could come on a trip after she retired. She hadn’t been abroad in ages, and I figured experiencing a different culture would be fresh and glorious.

    Did I write that on a postcard when I was a younger man, feeling fresh and glorious?

    I remember, after I got beaten up by those four men, Mother said to me:

    “After this latest incident you’ve gotten yourself into I have to worry all over again.”

    Another time, Mother once cancelled a job interview I’d set up, during the biggest economic crash of all time.

    I used to think our relationship would repair. It naturally would, with age and wisdom? Who invented that snippet of thought?

    One time my Mother told me to stop touching my eyebrow as I spoke to a tableful of people. We were out at a restaurant with a load of family members, and somebody asked me a question, and everybody looked at me waiting for my response. I was fourteen and didn’t know anyone there.

    Who isn’t shy in front of adults when they’re fourteen? I blushed as I spoke and was trying to tell a story, and I rubbed my eyebrow a little.

    “Stewart – don’t rub your eyebrow when you’re speaking to people! Control your body language.”

    I finished the story without touching my face and everyone was glad when it was over. One of the adults happily took the conversation elsewhere.

    I sit on a stone fence overlooking the city’s main river. Sure looks beautiful. The ducks below are calm and wandering – how do they even survive in these temperatures? Whilst I’m watching the river, and the castles and medieval housing – all in urban awe – it perplexes me that I should still be thinking about all these memories. I’m supposed to be enjoying a holiday.

    Am I allowed to think about them; that girlfriend, the beating, my Mother? Of all three, Mother is the source which makes me angriest. Once I had reckoned that I could overcome Mother with anger. She is the most extraordinarily angry person I’ve encountered, and far too content in her furies for there to be any hope in changing her over.

    It’s getting cold by the riverbank, so I go home with the cigarettes.

    Apparently the locals in this country are intolerant to folks who are non-white ethnically. I read a story that a black model had appeared on a fashion magazine circulated in this city. The locals submitted a petition to the council demanding the black person be removed from the advertisements, claiming such images supported illegal immigration.

    I’d thought my country was bad for that type of thing. But I’m not exactly a proud patriot. Not everyone here is, either.

    I reach the main street again. There’s an unimpressive moon, and as I go past the minimarket I realise I forgot to get the wine. As I buy some the woman at the counter doesn’t say a word.

    I reach the hotel. It’s cheap. Looks like it hasn’t changed since the Soviet era. I like it because of that though. I take the elevator up: when it reaches our floor with a ding I’m feeling happy. The walk has elated me. Maybe I can talk with Mother tonight, for once.

    Just when I’m set to open the door, I realise I can’t find the new cigarettes in my pockets. I search, becoming more ferocious, through every pocket. But, no, they’re not there.

    I dart out of sight of the door’s eyehole the other side, because she might have heard me and could be watching.

    I can’t believe it: did I drop the cigarettes in the river? I go back down the elevator to see if I dropped it in there. Nope. Perhaps I could retrace my steps through the city. But I know I can’t return to the hotel room without cigarettes. That would automatically result in a tantrum from Mother.

   Back to the minimarket on main street. I’m annoyed with myself. All the while I walk it’s like Mother is already preparing questions/accusations for when I arrive home, since I’ve taken so long. It’s as if a new memory is formed of her being unreasonable, and it hasn’t even happened yet. Still, it’s inducted into the collection of hatred.

    I buy another new pack of cigarettes and reach the hotel room. When I reach the living room, I find Mother. She’s asleep on the couch, drunk and snoring. White hair, a cracked, sullen face levelled above flaps of excess skin and fat.

    An absurdist vision comes to me. I stab her in the heart a few times. There is no knife nearby; she’s doing nothing but sleeping. But I imagine stabbing her.

   The vision passes. It thrills me. I’m barely ashamed. It’s never going to happen. I leave the cigarettes by the couch on the table. I return to my room with the bottle of wine.

    I turn off all the lights and open the window which looks out upon the city, and drink the wine, watching. As the city simmers in neon, I can relax, and stop thinking about trivial things. They are old memories, and nobody remembers them aside from me.

    Eventually, there is no eventually. Wine certainly relieves Time. I lie on the bed and sleep.

    SCREAMING.

    I snatch the bedside light on. There’s red all over my hands. Runny liquid. Mother was screaming. Now she’s stopped and there is no sound. I stand up in the middle of the room, fully dressed, my pulse yammering behind my ears.

    What just happened? I look below the door, and a slit of light burns. Mother must be out there. Did I just kill her? Did I finally snap, like I always should have done? I stabbed her in the heart earlier, and there’s blood all over my hands. I hold my hands to my face in horror.

    What do I do now? Leave the country … Everything’s whirling. I stagger out the door, realising I’m leaving her blood on the door handle. But they’ll obviously know it’s the son that did it … No point in cleaning up the blood stains.

    I sway in the corridor, the lights prickling my whole body. I stare at the bathroom door, wondering why it’s shut. And then the toilet flushes, and the door opens. Mother appears, with blinking eyes, and clumsily turns the light off behind her.

    She spots me without a fright. Her skin is blotched; she’s slumberous and quiet.

    “Oh, son,” she says, “you got a nosebleed again?”

    She turns the bathroom light back on and wraps a wad of tissue paper around her hand, then comes towards me with it and holds it against my nose.

    “It looks like quite a bad one. You’ve got it all over your hands. Just hold that there. You alright?”

    I nodded, still quite perplexed. I hold the tissue up. The redness seeps.

    “I remember you used to get nosebleeds all the time when you were a kid.” She’s turning away.

    Her body is very old, and unstable. She’s just going to bed like anybody else does.

    “I heard you scream … Just a minute ago,” I say.

    “Just a bad dream,” she said, and I can tell she doesn’t remember what the dream was even about. She wakes up in such a craze, and then the nightmare is never important when she’s awake. “Night-night son.”

    She retires, without any noise, and leaves me standing in the corridor.