Junk, Stuff, Things

My husband labels his file drawers that way: Junk, Stuff, Things. Everything is alphabetical and about a thousand years old, so he essentially knows where everything is. And he doesn't have a secretary or admin assistant or help or anything, so it really doesn't matter --

I've always found that pretty funny when I go into his office.

But today, at my house --

Oh, the piles of clothing! Stacks and piles and piles and stacks!

Some are in the process of being photographed for Ebay.

Some are piled under the ironing board to be altered for players in "Cinderella" -- they're costumes.

A finished altered wedding gown is hanging in the doorway.

A vintage coat is laying on the worktable to be repaired. So is a half-done capelet made from a thrifted man's sweater. So is fabric for Barbie's new dress.

Many piles are on the laundry room floor in baskets.

A few are neatly folded on top of the washer.

You know . . . I could probably just put a sign out in front of my house that says "JEN'S FASHIONS," make a pot of coffee and some cookies, and run a pretty hopping little fashion shop.

If only my family didn't live here . . . the nerve of these people! :)

xox