Welcome to another installment of the ever-popular Refashion Friday, coming to you on a Saturday. Who needs rules, right?
In spite of the labels that prove these are from diffferent companies, these two pieces look like partners in crime. A coordinating set of criminals, if you will.
What color is this, exactly? It isn't pink. It isn't purple. Is it Pinkle? Or Purk? All I know is that I look like I'm about to Purk when I put these on. Let's just say this color isn't very becoming on me, M'kay?
Despite their ability to reduce my skin tones to shades of pale grey or green, these pieces fit me pretty well. No alterations needed. The jacket is Liz Claiborne and the sweater is
100% pure silk. Yum.
I just needed to do something about that color. I wanted to split up this crime team. I really don't plan on wearing a jacket and a sweater as a coordinating set. I dunno. It just seems a little redundant to wear them together. Unless I move to Alaska. If I go there, I plan to wear my entire wardrobe as a coordinating set. Oh yes, I do.)
I decided to do this dye job in waves. First wave? Golden Yellow Dye.
My hope was to warm this lovely color up a little. In you go, Pinkle and Purk.
The Silk Sweater took swimmingly to this little spa treatment. She warmed up to a fabulous muted salmon color. Now that is something I can wear.
The jacket was a little more stubborn. Yellow wasn't going to touch Lizzy Purk. Undaunted, I whipped out the Brown Dye. (I didn't get a picture of the Brown Dye box, but it looks remarkably like the Yellow Dye. Only Brown. Whatever.)
Take that, Purky.
Lizzy ain't so Purky now. She matured into a deep, rich & warm purplish color. Very hip.
The sewing machine was not lugged to the kitchen table. The threads were not accidentally dumped (again). The pins did not poke my fingertips. Not a single stitch was taken, and I have two new pieces of clothing to liven up my wardrobe. Thank you, Rit!!
P.S. If you are wondering why there aren't any pictures of me wearing my refashions this time, it's because my photographers have been busy globe-trotting instead of following me around with their cameras. Silly teens. They must think they have a life, or something.
