I honestly don't know how you all coped with the suspense of not knowing the true nature of my Christmas Sneaky Peaks for one whole month. Vicodin probably. The desperate amongst you might have used your legendary powers of deduction to conclude: those are all things that she makes all the time, for everybody. And you'd be right.
Sneaky Peak #1 was a Christmas pettiskirt for the girl, and her cousin. To clarify: they
each got one, it was not to share. The mesh has little polkadots incorporated into the weave, and it's three layers of mesh and one layer of red cotton lycra. They are unfeasibly heavy.
Sneaky Peak #2 was an abstract print cowl dress for the
Original Best Friend Experience. In the strangest swap I've participated in to date, I received a cranio-sacral therapy treatment in return. I did not wear my cowl dress but we have plans to meet up again in the summer, and she will probably want to matching clothes then. I will keep you posted.
Sneaky Peak #3 was a tunic for my niece. In one of the saddest emails of my life, my sister in law told me before Christmas that Isla (previously Kitschy Coo's Next Top Model) had become very picky about clothes selection and had one specific request: A purple dress with long sleeves. Her mother negotiated a sparing use of print, and the trusty chairs came out.
I regretably did not get a modelled pic, but here she is having a Shiny Hair Competition with Maia.
Sneaky Peak #4 was yet another leather wash bag, this time for my father in law. Massive apologies to all the people on Facebook that thought the small sneaky peak picture looked like a leather bustier complete with heaving bosoms. And apologies to those who thought it looked like leather trousers with a zip down the bum crack. Both of those would have been infinitely better for everyone except my father in law.
And finally, blessed Sneaky Peak #5. You know how some people say 'My mom is my best friend'? Unless they are wearing matching cowl dresses like real best friends do, they're lying.
