I store my scraps of fabric in big, snap-lid boxes, stacked in a closet. Looks impressive, right?
But the fabrics are all jumbled up. And there are things in the boxes that I haven't touched in years. To me, that's a kind of stinginess. Why should I hang on to things I'm not using? Somebody, somewhere would enjoy these pretty fabrics:
I set aside all the fabrics I know I'm not going to use any time soon, and I'm left with a much smaller selection. Some of these include old shirts from The Hubby, which have already been butchered to a small degree:
Here's Pao Pao (left) and Mu Shu, sporting some July Fourth duds made from The Hubby's old shirts:
Some of the fabrics tell of my evolving passion for pugs. Years before we adopted Won Ton, I had a pillow made out of this gorgeous fabric, below. There is enough left over for something--don't know what, yet:
And this is the pile of fabrics I kept. (Do you notice a theme?):
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