I took that anecdote and related it to my desire to have a certain "style" if you will of a blouse that I loved and then to have it in every color (not an uncommon dream with women I don't think). I have been in pursuit of this goal ever since. I made one attempt at making my own blouses, many of the same style but different prints, a few years ago. I wore them all quite a bit but the fit started to bother me and I ended up cutting up the shirts to make something else.
This week has been the start of my second attempt. Over the past week I have not only been working on this sewing project but have also happened to have 5 different women in my life stop by for various reasons who I have discussed this new endeavor with. Each one provided insight and got me thinking about how to tweak this or that to make what I see in my head happen with the thread (see what I did there with that rhyme).
So finally after 3 different attempts at success I finished the "tunic with a yoke and hidden pockets shirt" (I am working out the name still). I am happy with the results. So happy that I embroidered an official cursive K on the shoulder. This is a personal throwback to growing up watching Laverne and Shirley and loving her classic cursive L on ALL her tops. Without a doubt I am definitely a Laverne. I have paid tribute to my childhood pop culture Laverne and Shirley knowledge several times over the years with an embroidered K, including on my black stylist apron I wore in the salon I used to work at.
I just decided it would be appropriate to call this blouse the "Laverne top." Thank you to all the Shirley's in my life who encourage me to continue pursuing peculiar projects, AND who still walk beside me in public places when I wear my homemade shirts.
(*Note* I had my first little baby with me. I was terrified to nurse in public and despite having a separate room for nursing mothers provided I still hated it. I also wasn't a huge fan of giving the baby the applesauce and enzymes in front of strangers who like to stare. Also she had gross diapers the whole day and by the end of the conference I was supposed to enjoy I was frazzled from running back and forth to nurse her and change her outfits that kept getting pooped on. A mental block still exists. Desire to attend another conference remains zero at this point.)