I picked up a big ol' suitcase fom the op-shop last week. Complete with faux alligator skin and tavel worn tags. How I wish that luggage could talk.
We've been filling it with all sots of treasure.
Hats. Bags. A crown. A scarf. Pirate pants. Sparkles. Feathers. Beads.
Dragging it to the back lawn. Studio. Cubby house.
But it was missing a certain something.
So in one of those mad bursts of sewing energy, just minutes before dinner, we whipped up a tutu.
She loves it.
I've been teaching her all my moves.
First. Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth.
Plie. Rond de jambe. Frappe.
A trip down memory lane for me.
Hours of delight for her.
Chasse over here for more creative spaces.