I survived the milestone I’ve been dreading: I’m officially 30.
And it’s not half bad.
Surrounded by friends, I rung in a new decade, very hopeful and excited. “Your 30’s are your best anyway,” I was repeatedly assured.
With my birthday comes some awesome sewing goodies! The boy bought me a couple of things like new wireless headphones and tracing paper. The klutz in me knows that it’s only a matter of time before I cut the headphone cords while producing some pattern pieces. Twenties-me would be just fine with white gift-wrapping tissue paper, but this is part of growing up. Less ad-hoc solutions and confidently learning the “proper” way to make my own patterns.
This most intimidating of the gifts are the exquisite scissors. Heavy metal, like the ones my mother owned that I was always advised not play with, these cut like butter. So smooth and quick! I feel like true, debonair Savile Row tailor.
A holster, people. We grown now.