Selected gleanings from the inherited stash. If you can give me a reason why any of these fabrics shouldn't go up in a puff of greasy, polyester-scented black smoke, I applaud you.
I dug into the stash tonight because I was looking for lining fabrics. I had to buy some this week to finish a project, and it bugged me when I'm trying so hard to behave myself and sew strictly from stash. I assumed in all the tubs and steamer trunks full of fabric, there had to be a few lining-worthy pieces. I was right. And then I found these.
Frighteningly enough, I remember when my mother bought all 3 of these fabrics. It was sometime in the 70s, but as I recall, there was no purpose to the purchase, they were just pretty. (What's pretty to some people might give nightmares to others; I flinched when I dug this out of the trunk and I apologize in advance to those whose sleep I've affected.)
This stuff has been traveling around with me through more moves than I can count, and I think it just hit the "use or be pitched" pile. Of course, in addition to being downright scary-looking, none of these fabrics is even in a color I can wear.
To make it worse, only the purple and silver is lightweight enough to use as a lining. Since I am short on lining fabrics, I probably will end up using that one - it might look interesting, depending on the garment it lined - but the other ones, that metallic thread makes it almost impossible to think of a purpose. (If you think of one, besides the aforementioned fire, let me know).
And now, hanging my head in shame, is one of my own aged purchases. Going by the look, I'd say somewhere in the mid-80s. I think it was meant to be a blouse. I'm almost sure it was meant to have humongous shoulder pads. It still strikes me as a happy fabric, but once again, other than as lining, what would I do with it? Even the other fabrics in my stash don't want to hang around with this one. They think she's showing her age and making them look bad, too.
It's always embarrassing to run smack into your past, especially something you thought you'd put behind you, like an unfortunate taste for unsuitable colors. But wasn't that part of what the 80s were about? And aren't we glad we survived?