I've been all wrapped up in some yard clean up, sewing room clean up, and closet clean-up as well, and I hope to find my way out of it soon enough.
So I thought I would do a little post on gardening-style, or in my case lack of style. Here I am doing a little early morning weeding with wet hair and G's old Mohonk sweatshirt, which I cut up and made my own after I found it in one of G's discard piles (finally) a year or two ago. This thing is at least 30 years old, and it shows, but that makes it perfect for gardening, painting, or what have you because it is just warm enough and I don't worry about ruining it.
It seems to me, that despite the image we intentionally portray of ourselves when we are out in our "public" clothes, there is another whole self that is comfortable at home when we think no one will see, or we are comfortable enough with those who do see us, that we don't care. But at home style is just as much a part of who we are, as what we wear in public, perhaps even more so.
I have occasionally thought I would make some "gardening clothes" but I never quite get around to it, always finding something to co-opt that works perfectly at the moment, usually something that is just about to go to the recycle or trash bin such as these old worn-in and ripped jeans which have since become cut-offs.
Although I love fitted tees, they are not really my preferred gardening clothes. I prefer something loose and baggy, something with no danger or riding up or baring some part of me I'd rather not bare (or which hide my tum) This has been especially relevant this summer when there always seem to be workmen around. But this is George's favorite gardening picture, and it shows my normal garden mode -- ripped jeans and big sun hat in the summer.
I used to wear big solumbra shirts but the ones I have finally wore out and were three sizes too big. I didn't replace them and thought I would make something in a style I liked better (they were pretty ugly) and I even bought some fabric to do so. But so far it is just sitting in my stash. This summer I've been wearing a couple of old shirts culled G's seemingly endless supply. I think I have many years worth of gardening shirts hiding in his closets.
In the end, I think I've finally come to accept that my preferred gardening costume is the old, the comfortable, and the broken in. Since I seem to be often kneeling or crawling on the ground, I like straight or loose jeans or pants, preferably cropped or rolled up to ankle length as shown here, but I will wear whatever is around.
I tend to grow attached to things and hate to let them go even when I know they have seen better days. I've come to accept that I am perfectly at home in the old, the worn, and the tattered.