storebought just tastes wrong

Shout out to A Dress a Day, a blog I love not only for the pictures of pretty vintage (and new) dresses and dress patterns, but for the good writing and great philosophy on clothes. I loved today's post, "It's not the dress, it's the idea of the dress." As I said in my post about my "backyard" I have to alter things, I can't just let them stay commonplace. I like looking at my kitchen stepstool and thinking about the reaction I got from my neighbors while I spraypainted it on the porch, or how I painted my TV stand hot pink on the first anniversary of 9/11. Even the things I haven't altered have a story of some kind, like the comforter on my bed that I bought after a major Pride & Prejudice binge, which otherwise is so un-me it's not funny, but it's so... oh, that Mr. Darcy! My desk is the one my mom wrote her dissertation on, and I have a lamp that has been mocked--yes, mocked, and by people I thought were my friends!--but was made by my grandfather. When I was little my mom made a lot of my sisters' and my clothes. She also makes her own strawberry jam, and having been raised on it I can't eat storebought jelly. In fact, since there's only so many jars I can haul back from Thanksgiving and Christmas, jam-making may be my new hobby. I'll let you know how it goes.