What is it about pockets?
And I know I’m not alone in this – every time some kick ass receptacles appear on Instagram, my people emerge. As I was finishing off my second Marcy Tilton Vogue 8813, it occurred to me, that my pocket love might stem from a subconscious desire to climb into their gargantuan folds and hide from the world.
My first attempt at this pattern was documented in a guest blog for Minerva Crafts and I’ve not much to add, except to say that I still hate gathering and will be avoiding any garment that involves this technique for the foreseeable. I’m particularly happy with the finish around the v-neck, as I used a strip of lightweight fusible interfacing to prevent any stretch from mishandling. If I were to make a third, I’d interface the areas which call for reinforcement too, as the notches weakened the fabric and got me reaching for some fray check.
It’s been a week where I haven’t been able to shy away from the fragility of existence and the reality that bad things happen to good people. I’ve been on the receiving end of glowing praise and harsh criticism, observing their opposing effects on my mental state. And I’ve sought comfort in wisdoms gleaned from Buddhist teachings – that everything is dependant related and lacks its own permanent, fixed identify. I’ve sat with uncomfortable feelings and when they’ve got too big to countenance, I’ve grabbed my trainers, took to the streets and worn them down.
At 43 I’m ripe for a mid life crises but thankfully I’m ahead of my time and got that emotional unravelling out of the way in my 20’s and 30’s. There’s been a radical shift in how I relate to myself and others but it’s one I embrace. However, change does not happen in a vacuum and comes with internal and external resistance. I’m concerned some of my relationships won’t weather the metamorphosis and I falter, triggered by old wounds and the fear of rejection fuelled self-annihilation.
Looking back, I was forever lost and sought solid ground through my interactions with others. In adulthood I’m appreciating a seismic shift in my functioning. Through anchoring myself inwards, I’ve learnt I can do hard things. And on the days where I can’t, I’ll retreat awhile and seek solace in the comfort afforded by these cocoon-like pockets.