A moment of silence for the dress that will never be

Some days just don't go my way. Admittedly, it's often my lack of interest in planning aka I was totally going to get up off my rear end and shave my legs last night buuuuuuuuuut, I really need to figure out how to make this for pinky's regency outfit. Look at it! I don't know the historical term for this little big girl onesie but it features tiny pintucks on the bottom with just a touch of lace. How cute would that look peeking from under the hem of pinkerton's skirts?

The internet really is a big ol' rabbit hole. Poor Alice ought to be grateful she didn't grow up in the digital age. The cats alone would keep you busy for days. But I digress.

Due to that whole too lazy to get off the computer at a decent hour bit I mentioned, my wardrobe options were limited to stuff involving pants. I pulled on a top I've recently made, my old reliable black pants, and was finishing up my make up when I noticed two big brown spots on the shoulder. At this point, my kids are already in the car, having scurried out ahead of my usual Sunday morning wrath. (If you are a church goer with kids, I don't have to explain this to you. You know and you just cringed.) I stalk into the bedroom and quickly throw on another shirt only to have my husband interrupt me saying, "Whyyyyyy? That one looked better!"

Thanks for that, champ. 

A heavy sigh later and I'm stalking out of the house. I make the fool mistake of looking down and there's some big splotch on the shit of my pants.

The point of this meaningless story is that I need some new church clothes, namely dresses. So I took a whirl around the internet to get some inspiration and was confronted by the one sewing pattern that mocks me in its "completely unsuitable for you" cuteness.

Oh how I want this dress. It calls to me every.single.time I walk into the fabric store. Hell, there is a good possibility I actually bought the pattern. But I promptly lost it or something because it is not around to mock me and my big ol' bust. As cute as this dress is the honest truth is that high necks make it look as if my boobs are going to eat my face.

I'm sure you're thinking, well, dude, how hard would it be to change the bodice to something more flattering, like a v neck perhaps. AND LOSE ALL THAT LOVELY DETAILING?

No, my friends. Better to have loved and lost than to forge on and piss myself off/bring on a big boob shame spiral from which only ice cream can soothe. 

Le sigh

Somethings just aren't meant to be.

Like a potential love affair between me and Tom Hardy.

Aww, do you need someone to kiss your boo boo?

He thinks I'm funny. It's a start, right?

P.S. the internet has suggested Tom Hardy as an excellent starting point for a Monday Morning gif parade. I'm not sure I can disagree. 'Til tomorrow then.