A few months ago, my friend Liz turned 26.
Like any good party, her birthday party had a theme: The 10th Anniversary of her Sweet Sixteen. This meant that the whole party was 1998-themed. Genius.
Liz is a rare gem. She’s smart, and sassy, and fucking hilarious, and a contains brilliant mix of cynicism and earnestness that makes her a total joy to hang out with. She’s a fabulous cook. She tells the truth. She enjoys life and makes fun of it at the same time. She’ll tease you ruthlessly, and defend you fiercely. She’s at once terrifically cranky and remarkably sensitive. She contains multitudes.
I couldn’t make it to Minneapolis to party like it was 1998, so I sent her a couple of mix tapes for the soiree, and this little handmade gift.
Lovely, isn’t it? Just a plain log cabin square that I made with scraps, and sewed into a pillow cover with some whimsical pom-pom trim.
But that? That’s just one side.
Like Liz, the pillow is complex and layered:
Yes, that is the cast of Season One of TV’s “Dawson’s Creek,” which premiered on the WB in 1998.
Ironed onto some undyed cotton and sewn into another log cabin square. I think it’s pretty fucking badass. Definitely my favorite TV-themed craft since the X-Files Diorama.
Happy Birthday, Lizzie!
NOTE: In honor of No Cussing Week, I thought I’d take a minute to discuss my own swears. I know I’ve dropped some F-bombs in the last few posts. I do it on purpose, for a couple of reasons: (1) I swear quite a lot in real life. I enjoy it. And (2) I want to chase away as quickly as possible any uptight know-it-alls with overdeveloped senses of entitlement who might later be caught off guard by a random swear and then be inclined to send me cranky condescending emails about my language. Those emails are stupid, and I’m tired of getting them. So, to paraphrase Liz, Happy No-Cussing Week, Motherfuckers!