I am officially on maternity leave for the next year!  I could not be more excited.   Work had not been so sunshiny for me and I am so glad to be able to go to sleep and not worry about what a jerk student did or said or what to do the next day and to be able to get up in the morning and not breath shallow stress breaths. Now I can really dive back in to making great things.

My first project turned out to be a bit of a disaster but I fell pretty amused by the whole affair.  I saw this tutorial for spiffing up t-shirts with bleach via the Make + Do blog and I thought it would be a great way to bring some maternity tops back from the junk heap.  For some reason every t-shirt I have gotten from Thyme maternity has ended up with strange grease spots after one wash. But just the ones from that store.  I looked like I was manning a chip truck all day.  Super gross.

First, I tried the stencil method on a dark purple long sleeved tee.  I copied a stencil from Lotta Jansdotter’s Simple Sewing for Baby onto freezer paper and blotted the bleach on with a rag.  The only problem was I wasn’t so careful and ended up with bleached blobs on the rest of the shirt.  Plus, the freezer paper didn’t hold up to the bleach and the design ended up less than crisp.  So, I soaked the whole thing in the sink with bleach hoping it would dye evenly.

Not so much.  But still fairly wearable.

T-shirt number two is the most epic of all the fails.  I thought I would daintily draw a heart on with a squeeze bottle as the tutorial author did.  The bleach flooded out of the bottle, soaked through the thick newspaper lining and left both sides looking more like a boob window than a heart. Ugh. I don’t even want to share this but in the name of learning from my mistakes:

This one’s definitely going back in the trash bin.

For some reason I didn’t abandon the nozzle method completely and thought I’d have more precision with the  pink nightmare under my belt.  I went for a wispy fern design on t-shirt number three. I got this:

Not totally heinous but the random dots of bleach on the sleeves and back hardly speak to a professional hand.

This is not to mention the fumes that probably shrivelled the poor fetus’s developing lungs and the little dot of bleach I got on the good t-shirt I was wearing. You can’t win ’em all!

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