I bought some slinky knit. I've sewn with slinky knit for years. I made a top. The famous "Burda Twist Top" from April 2005 Burda World of Fashion Magazine. The same top I've made twice, successfully, in the past. Once, even, of slinky knit.
I finished the top. I put it on. The slinky knit I was using was thin. The top fit tight. My breasts were, literally, FRAMED by the undergirding of the twist top. The breasts poked out. The fabric was flimsy. My husband said, "Well, you can't wear this one to Church".
I can't wear it ANYWHERE!
Well, maybe....I thought I'd be able to wear it under a jacket, but then, thought about going through airport security. They always want the jacket off. Many times I refuse, and they're cool with that. BUT....
What if I'm wearing this top, at Terminal B security at Philadelphia International, at 6 AM on a Tuesday. And they ask me to take my jacket off, and I forget I'm wearing "Ms. Flimsy". Embarassment. Humiliation.
So, the top went in the garbage can.
The garbage truck just came and took my trash. My top was in the trash. The top is travelling to the landfill. It is destined to lie, slimy polyester being that it is, buried in tons of detritus, in it's grave across the Delaware River, from Florence, New Jersey. There it will lie in state, undecayed, for no less than one millenium. It will rest amidst coffee grounds, a pork bone, and a banana peel.
To lie there, undisturbed, until some unknown future archaeologist unearths it and wonders why tops made from a petroleum derivative, that highlight breasts were buried with ceremony between a banana peel and coffee grounds by this strange, material-rich culture that is the USA, 2 centuries past the revolution.