Scurrying To the Party

I've been happy crazy busy getting the bits and pieces of the sewing room that usually look like this....whipped into some semblance of order for the upcoming purse parties I have booked this fall.

I honestly have no idea whether or not ladies will want to come to an open house party where they can sit at a table and design a bag of their own from 33 different fabric options, 9 fuzzy trim options, 20 ribbon choices, and 3 different types of closures. Theoretically they will design something highly personalized and then I will whip it up into a tangible reality in 2-3 weeks. I will deliver it and all will be good in the world with a sporty new one of a kind bag on that lady's arm. We are serving wine...don't you think that might help the creative juices flow? Invitations for the first 2 parties have already been sent.

In the unlikely (she says skeptically) event that someone might attend but get utterly overwhelmed with fabric swatches, and fuzzy black trim shedding all over a dining room table, I've decided to make up as many little bags as my fingers can muster so that someone can simply opt to relax, write a check and walk away that very evening with a Pink Evita bag.

Do some of them look familiar? As in they have also been featured for sale on the blog? Yes, I'm shamelessly plugging them in bloggyland and in real life. Whoever speaks up first gets her, that's how the game is played. Of course, there is always another bag to be invented and whipped up so no worries if someone is a little late on the punch.

I must admit it is a little strange for me to fly by the seat of my pants in this itty bitty business adventure. Previous business ventures for me have always included and cubicle and 2 weeks paid vacation. I'm getting older now and am seriously considering what it will be like to be old, sitting on a front porch somewhere and taking the time to reflect on a life lived.

I want to have lived...truly lived...taken risks...failed and succeeded. Loved and lost. And loved again. I want to have created something beautiful. Have kids playing at my feet, when I am not the one solely responsible for their dinner needs...aka grandparent someone. The thought of playing life completely safe and worrying what everyone else will think, simply does not have the attraction it once did. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have someone think you unique and somewhat of a character in old age?

And so, for right now it is little fabric handbags. May they sell moving onto each ladies arm and make them smile. Then I will be proud as an old lady sitting on that porch.