Two years ago today, I wrote this post about my Granddad. I don't have new stories to share about him, because I didn't know hi...

This skirt, made over the course of one day in early June, became an instant favorite of mine. I reached for it every...

WELL NOW. Unfortunately, it seems I must say some things about my the use of the English language, in order to continue to say anythin...

This is my granddad. I always believed that he did not love me. One summer, long after he had passed away, long after both my Gran...

Voting, and coverage of it, has begun. Although I don't talk politics here, I've been completely unable to keep my mouth shut in pu...

Can I just say, once again, baby makin time is EXCELLENT clothes makin time? You might remember my "flow chart" from a few ye...

Although Mother Nature is doing her best to give us a cookie after the time-out we've been in, New Yorkers ARE NOT HAVING IT. We pu...

I dreamt last night that Karen of Did You Make That  had to drop out of Me Made May, and challenged me via Instagram to take her plac...

Still with the separates! STILL! And not just separates. I'm venturing into the realm of CASUAL. Ugh, casual. HOW I LOATHE THE WORD...

DUDE , I said to the smoker, repeat offending on our front stoop for the fourth day in a row (his short term memory is, apparently, 50 ...

I had a brilliant idea during #sewphotohop, inspired by the cacaphony on Instagram, and the crickets on blogs. It was "The UNstagr...

After a long and furiously lovely week of workshopping a musical that renewed my love for the word, I had a day off to relax, and try to...

I will do my level best to never miss a Met Costume Institute Exhibit again. And if I happen to run into Iris Apfel (and I mean LITERA...

I was weirdly drawn to these black and white prints on offer at Alice and Olivia, in a way that made a little voice inside me pipe up an...

As I was scrolling through the archives, looking for a possible throw-back post for this hashtagged day of the week, I came across a me-mad...

Yesterday, I had to be three kinds of human. Mysteriously Sad Human, Blossoming Activist Human, Slightly Broken Human. And I needed to ...