Threadbared

Ode To Spring: A Haiku.

Spring! I dance for thee.
My skirt! With so many holes.
Panties! A good thing.

A Public Service Announcement From Threadbared.com

Meet Sharon.

Sharon has a problem.

Can you guess what Sharon's problem is?

For many people, accessories are a fun way to jazz up an otherwise plain outfit. A stylish belt to go with one's pants, a pretty handbag to wear with one's dress. It's all in good fun. For others, however, accessories take on an entirely different meaning. They can become as destructive as any other addiction and result in an embarrassing nightmare for the accessorizer and their family. This is referred to as compulsive accessorizing.

Compulsive accessorizing is defined as "excessive" and "out of control." As with other addictions, the accessory addict continues to pile on accessories in the face of adverse consequences. Sometimes referred to as "accessorholizm," compulsive accessorizers can create massive financial, marital and family problems. The addiction can also result in numerous fashion faux pas.

Behaviors That May Indicate A Problem:

• Accessorizing as a result of feeling angry, depressed, anxious, or lonely.

• Having arguments with others about one's accessorizing habits.

• Feeling lost without accessories - actually going into withdrawal without jewelry, bags, belts and shoes.

• Describing a rush or a feeling of euphoria with accessorizing.

• Feeling guilty, ashamed, or embarrassed after an accessorizing spree.

• Thinking obsessively about earrings or brooches.

• Lying about how many accessories one has on. For instance, owning up to wearing four belts but lying about six additional belts worn under the clothes.

For those of you who have identified with three or more of the above, there may be a problem. Take a moment and count the number of belts you are currently wearing. Now check the number of shoes you have on.

If you feel that, like Sharon, you may have an accessorizing problem we at Threadbared are here to help. Please send any extraneous jewelry, designer handbags, cute shoes and/or belts to Mary & Kimberly  c/o Threadbared.com in Atlanta, Georgia.

Come Sail Away With Meeeeeeee!*

I'm sailing away, set an open course for the virgin sea
I've got to be free, free to face the life that's ahead of me
On board, I'm the captain, in my crocheted jerkin
My fashion ensemble, it needs some reworkin'
And I'll try, oh Lord, I'll try to carry on

I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory
Some happy, some sad
I think of crocheted vests and the times we've had
We live happily forever, so the story goes
But somehow no one else seems...to like my clothes
But we'll try best that we can...to caaaaaarry ooooooon!

A gathering of crocheted belts appeared around my torso!
They sang to me this song of hope, and this is what they bellow!
They said come sail away, come sail away!
Come sail away with me!
Come sail away, come sail away!
Come sail away with me!

*With apologies to Styx.

Everyone At The Country Club Was Starting To Have Second Thoughts About The New Tennis Pro.

"Like wow man, did you ever think about what a tennis ball really means, man? It's like, this cosmic orb, you know? And we just hit it, you know what I mean? Like, why are we being so aggressive towards a hollow yellow ball, man? Is it because we're all hollow inside? Whoah...this is like blowing my mind here.

I mean, we need to get back to nature, man. That's why we're were practicing out here in the field today, you know? Because it's natural. Because we need to be one with our court. We need to be one with the cosmos and one with the tennis ball. Oh man, this is like the grooviest job I've ever had, man..." 

Watch Out Boy She'll Chew You Up....

Suzanne knows that if she remains motionless for a long enough time she will eventually trap her prey. She will quickly enshroud him in her woolen yarns, thus quieting the death struggle. It is then that Suzanne will feed, sucking only the liquids out of her prey, leaving behind such indigestible materials as watches, belts and tube socks.

"...I Will Pick Up The Needles. I Will Knit Something New. Two Things. And I Call Them Thing One And Thing Two."

"These Things will not bite you.
They want to have fun."

Then, out of the box
Came Thing Two and Thing One!

And they ran to us fast.
They said, "Do you like to sniff glue?
Would you like to sniff glue
With Thing One and Thing Two?"

And Kimberly and I
Did not know what to do.
So we had to sniff glue
With Thing One and Thing Two.

And then after that
We had such a hard time
Thinking up words
Words that would rhyme.

So we just took a nap instead.

The End.

Gary Tries to Transition to "Legitimate" Photography

Overheard at a Mon Tricot photo shoot:

"OK.  Gloria, good start with the mouth there.  We can work with that.  But Sharon, what's with the smile?  Not exactly appropriate for a photo shoot, is it?  Could we get a little less Sears Catalog and a little more Barely Legal Babes?"

"Good, Gloria.  Excellent.  The camera loves you.  Now in this shot we want to see Porn Mouth in a rain storm.  Can you do that?'

"What? We don't have a rain machine?  Crap.  OK.  Do we have a ladder and a guy with a watering can?  NO?  Are you serious?  This building doesn't have running water?  Good Lord, I'm going back to Hustler first thing Monday morning."

"OK, Gloria.  Change of plans.  I'm going to need Porn Mouth in a gumball storm.  That's it, darling.  Beautiful!"

 

"Now I need Porn Mouth at a party."

"What?  A fiesta?  Sure.  Whatever.  Yes, there can be a piñata.  Margaritas?  OK.  Whatever. Yes, and those little things you blow on that make noise.  Sure.  Look, who cares?  Just get the mouth magic right, OK, honey?"

"Now, Gloria, babe, in this shot I'm gonna need the Porn Mouth you can't take home to Momma.  You know what I'm talking about!  Perfect, sugar, perfect!"

"OK, we have to finish up this shoot today.  Let's move on to the rest of the models."

 

"Now kids, for this shot I'm going to need Porn Mouths in a blackout.  Got it?"

Ode To Fall.

Sweet November, I will always remember
It was the month that I learned how to knit

And once I knew how
I sat back and said "wow"
Here's a hobby that I won't quit

I create my own designs
With the least-flattering lines

For the clothes I create
Well, they represent hate
That I feel for my supermodel sisters

Because standing beside them
It's impossible to feel femme
Instead I'm a troll...covered with blisters

Sister Sue is a statuesque beauty
But to me, she's just beyond snooty
With her brilliant green eyes
And flowing blond hair
Sue has style and grace to spare

But if I knit her a gift
She'll be a bit miffed
Because she knows our mom
Will make her wear it

Sue hates her hips
Even though they're mere blips
She thinks that they're wide
So with this skirt I tried
To bulk-up
That stuck-up
Sister of mine

It may be a bit lumpy
And no man will want to humpy
But it's about time
Sue felt a little dumpy
(don't you think)

As for Nadine
She looks like string bean
Well, a bean with exotic allure

So I'll swaddle her frame
With sixty pounds of cottony shame
So she'll regret that time
When she called me Slug Slime
In front of my number one crush

A knitted patchwork coat, it's a good plan
Can I help it if it makes Nadine look like the Michelin Man

As for me, I must go
And get on with the show

I've an awful lot of knitting to do....

Ye Merry Olde Threadbarede.

 

Good eve, fair mistress. It is I, Halvdan The Tunic-wearer!

(sigh) How now, Halvdan. Thy tunic is indeed truly wondrous, so pleated and blousen it is.

Pray thee Theresa of Cambridge, hast thou ever seen a Croatian Shirt as pleasing to thy eyes?

N'er.

Forsooth! Perchance thou wouldst enjoy laying thou hand upon my sleeve?

Nay.

Yon chickens do cluck so merrily. Methinks they too find my tunic to be most splendid!

Verily. (rolls eyes)

Ah, pray pardon me for prating on about my wondrous tunic. But enow about me, let us speak of thou. What dost thou think of me?

I said, what dost thou...hark! Hark now! Where...where goest thou, fair maiden? Pray thee, do not scamper away so! I crave your pardon, return! Return!

What? What dost thou say? Thou thinks I art a...what?? Well, fie on thee, poxy harlot! Fie on thee!

Hmph. Why dost I always strike out with all the pretty maidens....

Threadbared: Up To Date On All The Current Fashions.

Linda waits and waits for fall

Her clothes are ready, no need for the mall

This year fashion statements will be a breeze

As soon as the temperature drops below 85 degrees

The money's spent, no turning back

Navajo print...it's the new black.

You Know How You're Pretty Sure Your Parents Still Have Sex But You Always Try Not Think About It?

Yeah.

And could someone please get a hand check on Dad? Let's just try and keep 'em where we can see 'em, okay?

Tell Little Cindy Lou Not to Open Her Eyes Too Wide. Somebody's Gonna Need Those.

This is the exact moment at which the girls of Otis' Organic Orphan Farm discover that they are genetically engineered clones created to provide fresh, healthy organs to the wealthy masses.

They would later find out that normal kids with mommies and daddies don't eat mice from the horse barn for dessert.

What Do Pirates Like To Make When They're Feeling Crafty?

They like to macrame hanging plantARRRRs! 

Sorry.

At any rate, this one is somewhat bizARRRRe (can't stop with the pirate jokes, am on a roll now). We've got a stuffed pirate doll. We've got a pewter solider/nutcrackARRRR figurine. We've got a first place trophy for the 1971 Skateboarding While Also Holding A Football championship, as well as a trophy for Walking On Top Of A Glass Barrel With Some Crap Inside It. And lording over the whole mess is this lovely hanging planter with what appears to be a boneless, skinless chicken breast floating inside it.

Oh, did you hear the one about the pirate who had to stop knitting?

Yeah, he found the activity to be very relaxing and enjoyable but after he lost his right hand to a crocodile it just got too hARRRRd for him to hold the needles.

Props to the Props

When you really think about it, you realize that it’s the little things that make a difference:  the kiss from your husband before he leaves the house each morning, a butterfly that lights on your arm during a summer afternoon picnic, the tiny morsel of pork chop that lodges in your windpipe at the company holiday party, resulting in an unfortunate Heimlich experience with Ted from office services and your new nickname Count Choke-ula  Small things really can make a difference.  Case in point: pattern photo props.  Yes, pattern props can give a photo that extra little something, that little something that can propel a pattern model from total obscurity to household name status.  I mean, just think of your favorite pattern model….good ole what’s her name.

And few people can argue the marketing advantages of a good photo prop. 

Baby in cute crocheted outfit?  Good.  Baby in cute crocheted outfit with fake rocks and fake dog?  So much better!

Family out for a fall picnic?  Charming.  Family out for a fall picnic with a shotgun?  What could be more fun!

And let's not forget the amazing versatility of the starfish!

Here's a look at a few more unsung heroes from the props department:

"I've got my baby trained just like a canary.  If I put her in this basket and block out all the light, she goes right to sleep."

"Hahahaha.  My lunchbox says the funniest things!"

"Hmmmm.  Eat this apple or get some pants that actually allow for the existence of my nether-regions.  What to do first?"

I'm pretty sure that this pattern photo prop is what sparked the whole Chinese adoption thing.  I mean, look how much cuter that doll is than the Caucasian kids.

And finally, there's nothing like an adorable five year old with her paintings of Daddy and the Red Death to warm your heart.

Hype Up Your Hygiene!

Does your monthly “special visitor” make you cranky and tired? Do you dread Aunt Flo’s visits? Do you ever wish Robin Leak would forget to stop by? Well, if the rain down south gets you down in the dumps, Threadbared is here to help. Why not brighten up leak week with new hand-made Period Pals® tampon covers?

These cheerful fellows are sure to brighten up your red letter days! Who could stay cranky with one of these adorable darlings staring up at you in the stall? Plus, our new Period Pals® patterns are made to accommodate all sizes and flows from “light days” to “needs a transfusion.” They’re perfect for any code red emergency!

So remember, next time you’re ready to ride the red tide, or you’re having the painters in, or you’re just plain shark bait, call Period Pals® to the rescue!

Honey, Why Don't We Go Take A Little "Walk" In The Woods. Stumpy Can Stay Here And Guard The Picnic Basket.

Frank couldn't believe how lucky he was to have met Barbara. A recent divorcee, she was a gourmet cook and a real tiger in the sack. Initially, he was a little disturbed by her kid's lack of legs but he was starting to see the benefits...

Bounty of the Britches

“Oh no, Becca, dear.  Not Robert Hutchinson.  I used to change his diaper and let me tell you there is not much to see in the way of trouser treats down there if you know what I mean.  You know, dear, corduroy candy or boxer banana, whatever you kids are calling it these days.  I mean, sure, he has a handsome face and he is a junior partner at Macon, Cash, and Overfist, but just look at those J Crew twills.  Flat front as can be.  You know my motto, Sweetie.  If he ain’t bulging, we ain’t buying.”

That Most Magical Time Of The Year.

Ah spring! The flowers are blooming, the birds are chirping and everywhere you look there's drunken wood nymphs wearing head-to-toe crochet.

Your Sandy Hair Floats in the Air... To Me It's Like a Lullaby... I'm Just Flying By... Oh So High

This pic totally reminds me of high school  Those girls who could levitate always thought they were so damn cool.

Say What You Will About Bobbie Jo But You Can Be Damn Sure Her Roses Will Take Top Prize At This Year’s Garden Show. Well, They Will If She Makes Bond Anyway.

It was unnerving the way Bobbie Jo looked when she gardened. Sure, her yard was something to be proud of but nobody is that happy over some stinkin’ petunias.

Nobody.

When her husband Ted disappeared a month ago Bobbie Jo didn’t…well…. she didn’t seem that concerned.

“Oh, he’ll turn up sooner or later,” she would always trill, a smile playing on her lips. “Now you have GOT to come look at my begonias….this new fertilizer I’m using is absolutely the bees’ knees!”

Bees’ knees, my ass.

More like Ted’s knees. And ankles. And abdomen.

And…you get the picture.

When the cops took her away she just smiled cheerily and called out for the neighbors to please keep an eye on her American Beauties.

Needless to say we had to revoke her position of Recording Secretary in the Garden Club. Membership had dropped off over the last few years but please, we have to have some regulations.

“If You Don’t Come To Bed Right Now I’ll Be Ever So Cross With You, Mister.”

   

When a man gets through with a hard day there’s nothing better than going home to his sweet little wife.

She’s loving.

She’s cheerful.

She’s wearing a negligee that makes her look like a 36-year old Shirley Temple.

“Well howdy-do Sir!  Did you have bright sunshiny day at the office?”

“No?!  Aw, don’t be a Grumpy Gus! (shaking finger)  You’ve got to turn that frown upside-down! We’ll never save Grandpa’s farm with that attitude!”

“What do you mean 'what am I talking about'?  Grandpa’s farm!  Say, I know what we can do – we’ll put on a show!”

“No? No show? You’re too tired?” 

“What do you mean I’m giving you the creeps? Gosh, that’s just awful, Mister!”

“You’re going to bed? But Daddies and Mommies always go to bed together!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!?”

“Oh my goodness….”

Yes, Nothing Says “Zip” Quite Like Two Depressed Pre-Teens Hanging Out In A Tree.

Susan remembers back when she was eight-years-old and her kitten died unexpectedly. Robert reflects on his poor performance during today's basketball game and worries what his father will think.

Knitted zippered jackets for everyone.

Hooray.

I Feel Like Such a Loser. My Bag's Only Big Enough For Appendages.

 

So yeah, I made this purse myself. I didn’t even have a pattern or anything.  And I sewed these precious little strawberries on it.  I thought of that myself too.  Isn’t it super cute?  It only took me like 3 hours.  And since it’s denim it goes with practically everything. And the best thing is the size.  It’s the perfect size.  It’s exactly the right size for a severed human head.  Uhhh.....ha ha.  Yeah.  I should go.

These Guys Have Balls. I Mean Pom Pom Balls. On Their Hats. Geez, What Is Wrong With You People?

OK...so you've made a detailed map of the inside of the bank and our lookouts are in place.  So I guess we're a go?  Just one more thing.  I know I've asked you this three times, but are you absolutely sure that the Bank Robbery for Dummies book said to wear ski hats and not ski masks?  It’s just that I feel a smidge conspicuous in this thing.

That Will Teach Them to Form a Super Secret Strawberry Shortcake Club and Not Invite You to Join

Best play date ever?

The Saturday that you convince your kindergarten nemeses Patty and Meg to climb into the mouth of the giant soul sucking death monster that lives in your basement.

With those two brats out of the way guess who's a shoe-in for Line Leader?

Things Never To Do Under Any Circumstances.

Don't tug on Superman's cape

Don't spit into the wind

Don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger

And for god's sake, never EVER make fun of a man who is both wearing cableknit mittens and holding a shotgun.

Trust us on this one.

Someone Get Me Some Special K. STAT!

 

Oh, God.  Is that an inch?  It is. I have just piched an inch.  I can't believe this is happening to me.  What the hell am I going to do now?  My life is over.  Over, I tell you!  I mean I always knew I could get fat.  After all, big sissy is a bit of a chunko.  But I never thought it would be so soon.  And the timing couldn't be worse.  Just when I was getting Susie Dillworth to notice me.  I mean, I can wear long pants to day care, but let's face it: eventually I'll need a diaper change and...OH!  Just imagine Susie's face when she sees this giant lard knee.  I'm finished.  Ruined.  I'll be stuck over in the zoo puzzle section with the rest of the losers who can't get a date.  This is absolutely the worst day of my life.  What I don't get is how it happened.  I mean, sure, I may have had one or two extra teddy grahams this month.  But is that enough to distort my body in such a grotesque manner? 

OK.  Let's think about this.  Think.  What did I do last month? 

Playdates?  No. 

Activity walker?  No. 

Pushing that lawnmower that makes bubbles?  No. 

Oh, yes.  I remember....

Crap! 

Damn Aunt Margaret and her freakin' handcrafted, cozy, cellulite encouraging gifts.

All We Need Is EVOL

100 LBS. Yeah, She Wishes!

I don't know how well these flour sack get-ups went over in the 70s, but I know a fabulous little place in Midtown where anything labeled Queen's Pride XXX will sell like toast emblazoned with the Virgin Mary.

Dating 101

 

Dating Rule # 1:  Never, under any circumstances, date a man whose thighs are smaller than yours were in four year old kindergarten. 

Dating Rule #2:  A big head does not indicate the same thing that big hands and big feet indicate.  All a big head means is that he resembles a life size lollipop and he’s more likely to topple over during a stiff breeze.

Friends Always Thought Roberta Was Awfully Gassy For A Girl

So anyway, here's the room where you'll be staying.  We put fresh towels in the bathroom.  Just let us know if you need any....what? 

This closet?  Oh no, you can't put your stuff in this closet. 

Why?  Well, because this closet is full.  Full to the brim.

What's in this closet? Uhh...honey?  Do you want to field this one? 

No?  Hmmm, well I can tell you what's not in there! What's not in there are the papers proving that Roberta here was actually born a boy.  What's also not in here is the diary her mother kept in which she confided her anxieties about her son born so, uh, underdeveloped that they chose to surgically make him a girl.  No Sirrie Bob.  The GI Joes that Roberta stole from the neighbor boy after she burned her Barbies in the fireplace?  Also, not in this closet.  Our entire wardrobe of matching clothing that reflects the fact that Roberta not only wants to be with me, but in a very real way also wants to be me?  SO not in this closet. 

Still, don't look in there, k?

In The End Dawn Felt Foolish and Regretful. She Was Really The Only One To Blame. And That Bitch Jeanette Wouldn't Even Refund Her Money.

The day had started out so well. Dawn had picked out the best outfit when she woke up that morning - her white go-go boots, matching turtleneck, red poly-blend pants (tucked in, of course!). And to top it all off - her very most favorite piece ever - the red crocheted sleeveless shin-length vest. God, she had made a good decision when she bought that - it went with practically EVERYTHING!

But then she went to Jeanette's House 'O Beauty for her bi-monthly haircut. And that's where it all started to go wrong. She had plopped down in Jeanette's chair, just requesting her usual trim. But then - then, she made the worst mistake. She opened her mouth and said, "Jeanie, I know my hair is nice and all. But...well, I've worn it this way forever! Straight and to my shoulders...so Plain Jane. Maybe I should try something new. Something fresh and different."

And that was when Jeanette brought up this new "mullet" style that was supposedly all the rage in Paris.

As you can imagine, things only went downhill from there.....

I Also Made The Horse...Out Of Chicken Wire And Velveteen Left Over From My Prom Dress

"I can't help it.  I want to show off what I made."

And what I made was a clone! 

A clone that wears teacher dresses and bonnets! 

A clone that’s almost completely perfect! 

OK, she only has one leg and for some reason her hands are permanently attached to her solar plexus. And when she tries to say anything it comes out like “Taaaaaayyy in de wiinnn.”

But I took her to the fair last week and she’s a super awesome whack-a-mole player (She just bangs the moles with her head.  It's the cutest darn thing you ever saw).  In fact, the she-male carnie said Clonetia was the best player he/she/it had ever seen. 

And, well, I guess I just love her. 

I think she’s the best one legged, bonnet wearing, whack-a-moling clone in the whole world!

Quick Deal: I’ll Give $50 To Anyone Who Has A Hard Boiled Egg

Of course they couldn't wait for the man in the plaid blazer to show up.  Who else was going to offer to let them trade their youthful innocence for what was behind Door Number Three?

What you can't hear is the voice of reason offset, screaming, "Don't take it.  Don't take it.  Behind Door Number Three is a donkey in a sombrero."

Also, You Might Try A Little Zoloft. That Usually Helps

And now, more from the Threadbared mailbag:

Dear Dr. Kimberly,

I have a dilemma.  I long to make beautiful matching sweaters for my entire family.  I hunger for the embarrassment of coordinating cardigans and compatible crewnecks.  I want to watch gleefully as my husband and children try to hide in shame from people they know at Stuckey's.  There's only one problem:  in order to know what kind of matchy matchy mayhem to unleash on my family, I have to figure out what kind of family we are.  I'm stumped. I was hoping you could offer some expert advice.

Sincerely,

Matchy McTackypants

 

Dear Matchy,

What a great question!  I'm so glad you asked.  There are, in fact, several easily defined types of families in the world.  I just happen to have the list right here in my Big Book of Psychobabble.  It's as simple as reading the descriptions and looking at the pictures to identify what type of family you have.  Here are the three types:

The Mountain Climbing Family:

The Tennis Family:

And finally, the Sea Dog Family:

Once you identify your familial type, you should be well on your way to shameful sweaters for the whole fam!  Hope this helps.

Dr. Kimberly
www.threadbared.com

                                                        **UPDATE**

Dear Dr. Kimberly,

I'm confused.  My family doesn't seem to fit any of the types.  We've never been mountain climbing and my son Naven has a fear of thermoses.  We aren't interested in tennis and I don't think we want to be any kind of "dogs."  Please help.  What should we do?

Sincerely,

Matchy McTackypants

 

Dear Matchy,

Wow.  This is awkward.  I'm not sure how to tell you this.  If you don't fit one of the types, then, well....you're...how do I say this?  You're not a family.  I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you.  You'll have to begin to distance yourself from one another.  You really shouldn't even be living together.  Wow.  That's a shame.  Oh, and you should probably seek some help to deal with the loss of your "awkward grouping of people who have no hobbies but thought that they were kin"...like counseling or something, but I don't do that.  So good luck!

Dr. Kimberly

Woman Seeks Man.

I Am:

Eccentric fashionista with passion for leopard prints, Dorothy Hammil's hairstyle and est training.

You Are:

Single, Tom Selleck-lookalike with a hot body and sense of adventure. Must love cats, fake foreign accents and imported cheeses.

Together, let's explore all that life has to offer.

I've Organized The Ribbon From Lightest Pink To Darkest Pink! Isn't It Super?

This wasn't exactly what Tiffany had in mind when she suggested to her boyfriend that they experiment with tying each other up.  Maybe her friends were right about Blaine.  Ever since he'd used his vacation time to convert her spare room into "A Gift Wrap Center Extravagaaaanza" she'd been a wee bit concerned.

Paper Covers Rock, Rock Breaks Scissors, Fists Break Nose.

It wasn't the first time Roger had lost at Rock Paper Scissors but it was the first time he had threatened to bash Eric's face in.

"Hey man, it's cool...it's cool. It's just a game."

"Maybe it's 'just a game' to you, Eric but IT'S NOT JUST A GAME TO ME!  Huh?  Huh?!  Did you hear that, Eric? YOU WANNA DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?!"

Eric decided that reasoning with Roger wasn't going to work this time. Still, he was a pacifist and he wouldn't let Roger's fury push him into doing something he would later regret. He hooked him thumbs into his belt loops and calmly stood his ground.

Meanwhile, Roger's slightly undersized doppelganger hangs out in the background, leaving everyone to wonder, "Who the hell is that guy anyway?"

Eye Shadow by Crayola

I would have been so much more popular in high school if I had had an "Easy to Make" bubble hovering over my right shoulder.  Of course, the porn star lipstick probably wouldn't have hurt my status either.

Now Is The Time On Threadbared Vhen Ve Dance.

It's a playsuit!

It's a blouse!

It's a leotard!

It's an everything!

Okay, sure. Fine. It's an everything. Whatever. The girl on the left seems somewhat normal, as normal as one can seem while crouching in a metallic snakeskin playsuit. Whoops! I mean, a metallic snakeskin playsuit/blouse/leotard/everything.

But check out our friend over on the right.

It's a suit to wear on that special day when you return to your home planet!

It's an outfit that not just suggests, but rather demands, "Touch my monkey! Touch him! Love him!"

It's a get-up that The Man In The Yellow Hat would wear when he and Curious George head to Miami Beach for vacation.

It's an ensemble that both asks and answers the question "I am a man?"   (answer: have you ever seen a man with a four inch cameltoe?)

By gosh, they're right - it truly IS an everything!

Chosen One.

It started out as an innocent purchase from the County Craft Fair....Peggy was walking past a booth when it caught her eye. It seems to be calling out to her, "I Choose You. I Choose You. You...are...the Chosen One."

She ignored it and went to the funnel cake stand instead.

Walking back to her car on the way she passed the booth again....once more, the crochet necklace beckoned to her, "Chooooooosen One."

She felt she had no option but to buy it. That whole hippie look wasn't really her thing but maybe it would look okay with a turtleneck or something.

That was five months ago and Peggy hasn't taken the necklace off since. The first time she tried she felt a tightening around her collar and a burning sensation between her breasts. She had no choice.

She had to submit.

Peggy quit her job as a dental hygienist and spent her days building an aluminum foil tower in her backyard. She did everything the necklace told her to do.

Sometimes Peggy had fantasies about taking the garden shears to it and ending it all. But she was scared, too scared to even try it. It had control now and someday soon the mothership would come and take them both away.

There was nothing left to do but wait.....

A Pattern of Abuse

She's Asking to Meet His Little Buddy

Oh sure, Holly claimed that it was her new handmade collection of Holly Head Wound Scarf Bandages that had helped her become the most popular girl in school.  But Janet noticed that there was something different about Holly since the accident.  She was, well....friendlier.  She kept calling all the boys Skipper and offering them a three hour tour.

Awkward Moments In Knitwear Modeling.

How to Rid Yourself of That Oppressive Sex Appeal

Crochet: The Second Coming

I'm sure you've all heard the hype about how recent events indicate that the end of the world is drawing near, the apocalypse is upon us, McDonald's will run out of fries, etc.  Well, my initial inclination was to dismiss these ideas as silly nonsense.  I've heard my share of religious kookiness and I am not an easy sell.  The religion I buy, just not the kookiness.  Anyway, I was all set to ignore the demented ramblings, and then I opened up my trusty Lucky magazine, trumpeter of all that is chic and adorable, and I saw this:

      
which reminds me a little too much of this:
       

I know we've seen the versatility of afghans... portals to true happiness... murder victim transport,  and rumor has it that you can actually use them to keep warm, but afghans to wear?  TO WEAR?  Besides adding multiple unwanted granny squared inches to your frame, these coordinates also look like something only your Aunt Clara (of bunny suit fame) would send.  They represent a trend so horrible, so unflattering, so unnatural and ungodly, that their return can only forecast a dark and tragic future.  I'm no Bible scholar, but my daddy is a preacher, and I'm pretty sure the 2nd coming of afghan square attire is mentioned somewhere in Revelations.  So I guess this is it, folks. Fill up your cars with $4 a gallon gas, buy milk, buy bread, hoard Mickey D's hot mustard sauce.  The crochet is coming.  We don't have much time.

ANNOUNCEMENT
On a more serious note, the recent devastation along the gulf coast is a horrible saddening tragedy.  Threadbared.com would like to announce that every penny of sales from t-shirts between now and Sept. 9 will go to disaster relief for the victims of Katrina.  You can look cool in a brand new shirt and know that every bit of your $18 went to do a little good in the world.

Prince Consuelo Banana Pants

The year is 1973 and Simplicity has just introduced their first pattern for gay couples. Oh sure, they slipped them quietly into the background behind the chick with the Dr. Frank-n-Furter makeup and the guy who closely resembles Austin Scarlett from Project Runway but still they’re there, lovingly pondering a daisy together.

What’s that you say? You think that’s a girl in the green shirt? You think that’s not a gay man? Are you freakin’ kidding me? Did you get a good look at those pants? They have actual fruit on them. ACTUAL FRUIT. That’s right. Those are banana pants. There. I’ve said it.  Man in banana pants.  Case closed.

At Least He Looks Her in the Face When He Talks to Her

It's comforting to know that those poor little roly poly kid heads can grow up, fall in love with full-bodied boys, make afghans (I'm guessing with their teeth??), and visit old villages.

WARNING: In The Event That You Are The Victim of a Purse Snatching, Decapitation May Result

Do your arms ever get tired of performing the menial tasks of your everyday life?  Do they ever wish that instead of carrying your bag they could be imitating a WW II airplane or flapping around like chicken wings?  Or perhaps they would prefer to give a great big hug to the lonely child that lives deep down inside you?  Well, whether your goal is surface level silliness or deep rooted healing, Threadbared.com is here to help.  With these new necklace purses, your arms are freed up to do anything their elbows desire.

Oh...and according to the caption, these neck purses are better than ice cream!!

Task #2 is Stealing Flip Flops from Old Navy

Look, April.  Do you want to be in the Purple Diamond Gang or not?  Cause if you do, you'd better get to eating this kitten.

No, I'm not kidding.  This is the first task in our initiation test.  If you don't do this, you'll never be a Purple Diamond Girl and you'll never get your rhinestone glitter shank.

We've all done this.  It's how we all got in.  Well, except for Stacy.  She's allergic.  She ate a possum instead.

Oh Yes, It's a Body Bag

Yes, why not on the terrace?  In fact, why not use the afghan to transport the body of the pattern model that you just killed and left on your terrace?  That condescending, insensitive pattern model who had the nerve to wear a turban on the horse and buggy ride that you took together in Cairo.  The same model that later said she only dates real photographers.  Of course, she said that only after she had finished the entire plate of basboussa that you paid for.  Be sure to lay her on the attractive multicolored crochet flower portion of the afghan in order to help hide the blood stains....everyone will not find blood stains original and beautiful.

In The Wild.

The Elusive Knit-Bodied Peafowl have been kept and reared in captivity for over 2,000 years. Although some signs of domestication have occurred, such as the ability to walk upright, apply lip gloss and read tabloid magazines, no changes in shape or size are present.

Knit-Bodied Peafowl are famous not only for their beautiful appearance, but also for their peculiar behavior. For instance, before the rainfall, peafowls utter an unpleasant wailing cry and will then begin urinating on innocent bystanders. This particular breed of peafowl is notorious for being rather quarrelsome. In captivity, they do not get along well with other domestic animals, perhaps, considering themselves unique creatures, which they undoubtedly are.

The long ornamental feathers, which the Knit-Bodied Peafowl displays so magnificently here, are part of an elaborate courtship display. During the mating season, the feathers elevate to form a massive, lacy fan, supported from behind by the unadorned tail feathers. This sight is accompanied by rasping noises from the fluttered wings, prancing movements of the feet and repeated cries of “I’m sooooo drunk. Oh god, I’m sooooo drunk.”

The act of copulation is surprisingly brief and afterwards the Knit-Bodied Peafowl tend to become angry and snappish. The male Peafowl wisely keeps his distance until a new mating season begins. The female knits a warm nest for roosting and in three weeks time the Knit-Bodied Peafowl will lay three to five brownish buff eggs.  The beauty of life begins anew.

Now Little Timmy Sings Soprano

Click on the pic to see Timmy and all his friends.

Roger Vs. The Bright Orange Semi-Gods.

Sure he tried, but Roger could never really compete with the hot, tanned, headless torsos of his friends. The chicks really dug them and they never had a bad hair day, even in the most humid weather. 

If You Tilt Her Backward Her Eyes Close!

I won’t pretend to comprehend the emotional complexities of parenthood, but it’s got to be disappointing when you’re expecting to have a fully poseable child and instead you end up with one of these scary doll-like kids with the arms and legs that don't move.

Daddy's Double Barrel Discipline

It seemed harsh, but Augustus knew that a leg full of lead would teach little Emily that it was wrong to go around mercilessly stretching the tongues of her pets.

Adoption is the New Black

Look lady, I told you, I don't need to be adopted.  My parents are right over there at the King Tut Hut buying Cleopatra key chains and tiny souvenir spoons.  I'm sure you're a really nice lady and I appreciate the dress, even if it is a little on the whorish side.  But this hat...what is this?  A turban?  I told you, I'm from Chicago.  I'm Presbyterian.  Now let go of my hand and give me back my Princess Jasmine underpants.

Hello, Danny. Come and Play With Us. Forever. And Ever. And Ever.

Ten bucks says this little kid has a boy named Tony that lives in his mouth.

You be here four hour. You translate everyting. YOU GO NOW.

Please to read above words on pattern as is the custom on this site of the web.  The English is not as good as one could desire, but described is the beauty of intimate caps for the skull.  Enjoy this post "the very latest winner."

Big Green Pepper Redux

Look who’s back on the bunny slope!

It’s your favorite ski-suited dope!

Just when you thought you’d had your fill!

It’s me - skiing impossibly uphill!

That’s O.K.  I haven’t a care!

I can even do it with one foot in the air!

My high-waisted warm-up suit is pretty hot!

And check out these mirrored sunglasses I got!

I think the stripes make me look tall and thin!

As if it ain’t enough to have this big ole grin!

Why do all the young women run away?

Do you think that this outfit looks too gaaaaaaaaay?

*Sung in tune to the Mighty Mouse theme.

Mary Walsh Can Thank Us Later.

Oooooooh, what have we here?  A Butterick Sew And Go Caftan?  A Butterick Sew and Go Caftan for Mary Walsh?  Oh, what a lucky gal she is! Mary Walsh!

But wait!  There's a some scribbling there on the right, some kind of notation. "Toolong!" Huh. What in hell does "toolong" mean?   Better consult the dictionary.

La la la la.......flipping through our handy Oxford-English.....and there's...no such word as...."toolong." 

OH!  "Too-long!" The caftan is too long!  Now I've got it.

Hmmm. Yes, "too long" indeed.  It is an excellent idea to make helpful notes on your patterns though, something to serve as reminders in the future, something to keep you from making the same mistake twice.  We can think of dozens of helpful hints that we would add to such a pattern!  In addition to "Too Long" we would like to suggest:

Too Wide.

Too Ugly.

Too Voluminous.

Too Much of A Resemblance To A Shower Curtain I Used To Own.

Too Many Blank Stares From Your Children When They Come Home From School And Find You Wearing It.

Too Large To Wear Grocery Shopping Without The Save Rite Managers Accusing You Of Hiding Loaves of Bread In Your Outfit.

Too Many People Are Going To Be Reminded Of Mrs. Roper From "Three's Company."

She Has a Surprisingly Good Arm for a Seven Year Old

Sure, Billy loved his sister, but to be honest the whole "Molly is a monkey" routine was getting a little old.  Picking through his hair for grubs to snack on was one thing, and the WOOO WOOO AH AH AH noises did draw stares from the other kids, but it was the poop tossing that  was really starting to get to him.

Well, Butter My Biscuit

Ladies and Gentlemen, step right up.  We have here in this one photograph two women who embody the very essence of Southern stereotypes.  That's right.  Here before your very eyes are the Southern Belle and the Hillbilly Slut.  See the large graceful hat and beatific smile?  Notice the contrasting vacant expression, cropped fringe shirt and daisy dukes?  And you will see that they are enjoying a bowl of fruit which appears to be filled primarily with peaches.  I can hear them now:

"Well, I do declare, these peaches are positively dee-licious.  Howeva do they get them so sugah sweet?  These remind me of the homemade peach cobbla back on the farm.  Momma always made the best cobbla in the county, bless her heart.  Now, pass me my mint julep, would you dahlin?"

"Shoot I reckon these are the best dagum peaches I ever had.  Are these free?  Cause I guarandamntee you, I didn't go to third base with that photo-grapher to get this here model job and then get paid in peaches.  I can get free peaches from my cousin Travis that works down at the Winn Dixie.  You know, the one I took to jr. prom?  Wooo weee, he's cute as a sackful of puppies."

And You May Ask Yourself: Well...How Did I Get Here?

You ever have one of those days where you feel all mixed-up and sort of disoriented and your head starts feeling funny and next thing you know you're spinning through a swirly time tunnel all "Dr. Who" like and there are bright flashing lights and the sounds of psychedelic rock and then WHAM! you find yourself smack-dab in the middle of a 1970's sewing pattern, plastered right on top of a poorly-coordinated teenage gypsy and a Susan Dey wannabe?

Yeah. Some days are just like that.

BFF

"Wow, Naomi.  You're such a good friend.  You never get jealous at all when the photographer places me closest to the camera in almost every shot.  And just think, I only decided to become a model last week.  Not like you... you've been a model forever."

The Swinging 70s

"What do you mean you're uncomfortable?  It's just Susan and Tom.  They're our friends and they invited us over for dinner.  Try to be polite.  Look how excited they are to have us here.

What?  I told you already.  They thought it would be fun if we all wore our robes.  Like a pajama party.  They thought it would help us all loosen up a bit....you know, have a good time.  They throw these parties all the time.  They're supposed to be a real blast.  I heard Susan is the best hostess in town.

Why aren't they wearing pajamas under their robes?  How should I know?  What are you so worried about?  Oh, and Tom says that we're having dinner in the bedroom so that we can eat while we recline like the ancient Romans did.  Sounds fun, huh?

Tom?  Looking at you? What do you mean looking at you?  Listen, honey, everything's fine.  What you need is to have a few drinks and relax.  It's gonna be a great evening.  They mentioned something about swing dancing after dinner.  I didn't know they were into that but, boy, I haven't done the Lindy Hop in ages!"

Paleface Poof

If I can just run fast enough, I can make it into the 80s, the decade in which my gender ambiguity, bird beak schnoz and Ho Fro (short for Honky Afro) are sure to be the bee's knees.  Popularity, here I come!

 

"Whoops! Are these my pants or yours? Oh yeah, that's right! It doesn't matter!"

Unisex Pull-On Drawstring Pants™ -  For The Couple Who Needs Easy Access.

In Case They Want To Have Sex With Each Other.

In An Alleyway Or Something.

Or Heck, Even Right Here On This Cobblestone Street.

Which Might Hurt A Little Bit.

What With The Cobblestones And All.

Unisex Pull-On Drawstring Pants™  -  What Could Possibly Be Sexier Than Unisex Pants? 

Calm Down There, Buddy. It's Just a Sweater.

Ever since Kimberly introduced the concept of Pattern Erotic a few days ago things just seem so much....well....sexier.

I swear to god I saw "Rib Ticklers" for sale in a London sex shop a few years ago but I don't remember them looking anything like this.

Well Ladies, I Guess We All Have to Carry Clutch Purses from Now On

Privately, each of the bridesmaids thought that Diana asking them to have their shoulder blades surgically removed so that their posture wouldn't outshine hers during her wedding was a teencie bit over the top.  But ever since Diana has messily corrected the "Marci's ears stick out problem," no one had the courage to confront her.

One Vest. Endless Possibilities.

                               (click image to enlarge)

Look At Me When I'm Talking To You.

HEY!

I SAID, if it looked "so gay" when I tried it on in the store why didn't you tell me that then?  Hmm? HMM?  Before I got it home and cut the fucking tags off?

And wipe that stupid smirk off your face. Like you ALWAYS make the best fashion choices, right?  Mr. Fuchsia Spandex Cycling Shorts. OH, I KNOW all about those!They're on the top shelf in your closet! Don't even ACT like I haven't seen them!

I am SO not talking to you anymore. Like your silly striped tunic is ALL THAT.

God, you can be such a bitch sometimes. 

Jerkin my Tudor

When you first look at the cover of this knitting pattern book, you might find yourself drawn to the woman with the oversized and oddly placed nipple.  That, along with the kangaroo pouch hanging off her abdomen, would seem to be entertainment enough.  But I suggest that we take a closer look at the pink clad Casanova at the bottom right.

I don't know if it's the squinty eyes, the butterscotch combover, the manboobs, or his pre queer eye knack for putting together a look that pops, but this Tudor Jerkin guy is H-O-T.  That handlebar mustache isn't hurting anything either.  And what woman doesn't love a man who sees the world through amber colored glasses?  Don't you just want to rip off this stud's belted horizontal ribbed sweater, red tie, pink textured stripe button down, and red lacy corset?  What?  You don't think he's wearing a corset?  Take it from someone who knows:  You don't get cleavage like that without some support.

CELEBRITY SIMILARITY ALERT:  The Totally Rad (and unfortunately deceased) Captain Kangaroo

Schoolgirls with Shanks

Of all the gangs at Westwood Middle School, everyone knew that the Purple Diamond Gang was the roughest.  Missy, the leader, always wore her trademark patterned stockings.  She had no taste for the dirty work.  That was taken care of by her minions, Stacy, Megan and Jill.  They got their start stealing Hello Kitty pencil bags and roughing up "squealers" out by the kickball field.  By 8th grade they'd knocked over a few liquor stores, and Stacy was serving 8 months in juvie for huffing.  Salon Selectives was her aerosol of choice, but she had used her share of Butter Flavored Pam as well.

But of all the Purple Diamond derelicts, Jessie, the loner, was by far the most dangerous.  At 12, she'd popped a cap in a crossing guard who was "running her damn mouth."  In her defense, Jessie insisted that "the polyester clad bitch was asking for it."  The rumor around Westwood was that the ponytailed punk would sooner shank you than look at you.

Wait For It......

Those two chicks on the left are gonna start making out any second now.  Look at the way that one vixen in the print dress and espadrilles (fabulous shoes, by the way) is leaning in on oblivious blue dress girl.  Poor blondie won't even see it coming. 

The redhead in the back is obviously respecting the sorority "don't peek, don't tell" policy.

Jolly Green Goober

Here I come to save the day.
The Big Green Pepper's on his way.
Over the hills and through the snow,
To bring you fashion I must go.
My slalom skills are second rate
And I tend to over-coordinate.
But I promise to always do my best
To live up to my kick ass green ski vest

P.S.  I'm pretty sure that's Luke Wilson.

But Paw, We Don't Need You to Drive Us. He Has His Own Wagon.

Kimberly:  I like to think that this is the outfit that Laura Ingalls would have worn had Miss Beadle organized a Walnut Grove Prom.  Of course Laura would have kept her jacket on, unlike the slutty preteen shown in the picture.

Mary: The Prom Theme - "Some Enchanted Dust Bowl"

She Also Plays the Harpsichord

Be honest.  Is there anything sexier than a woman who sews her own lingerie?  I can hear the guys now:  "Seriously Tom, you should totally go out with Sandra.  She has a great personality AND she makes her own panties." 

That's hot. 

Not to mention the sexually elusive "more is more" approach to the above pattern.  After all, what good is a pair of panties if they don't completely obscure your belly button?

Er....Did You See Me Crocheting?

101 Sweaters You Can Knit and Crochet And Try To Convince People To Actually Wear!

Um.... besides the uniquely hideous sweater and matching hat I'm not really sure WHAT is going on here....

Also Doubles as a Potholder!

You may think this is an ugly crotchet top. You would be right.

But!

Notice how the top detracts from the wrinkly, bulging, weirdly seamed, why-in-hell-would -you-wear-these pants that are going on below the waist. Aha! It is a clever little thing, yes?

Bridal Party Acid Trip...

Sunflower's gifts to her bridesmaids included sandlewood oil, macrame vests and mescaline. Everyone got into the spirit of the occasion.