Pantyhose sausages.

When I was rolling pantyhose sausages, all I could hear in my head was 'We are the wieners. We are, we are!'. Wait, wait, what? Once upon a time there was a Eurovision song. And probably the best what our music grands could have came up with in many years. And we almost won. Like 6th place. No joke, that was big. Of course there were no 'wieners' in the song lyrics only 'winners', but probably due to our sometimes funny pronunciation and a little arrogance encoded in the song native English people threw some jokes around, that all what they can hear is 'we are the wieners of Eurovision'. But what has Eurovision and (pantyhose) sausages in common? And more importantly what tights have to do with chairs?

First, educational video. Now, when that is covered, let's talk about my personal experience. I hated tights with all my heart. And still it's a huge understatement. I wanted to rip them off as soon as put on, it almost felt that I couldn't breathe through my skin (?), was never comfortable enough to wear and sometimes it caught my skirt when I was rushing to dress, letting all the people at the party see my underwear. And that just weird thing which happened to me as a child made everything even worse: went to a birthday party and was playing hide and seek, ended up with one girl right under the table. I didn't know her, nor I remember her name, but what I remember is, that she told and SHOWED me her secret how she's wearing underwear-tights-another underwear on top. I was in awe. Today I could guess that it was because pantyhose were too big for her and second underwear hold it in tact. Still it made me hate tights even more, probably that now I associated them with absolute discomfort causing girls to wear two underwear. Doesn't sound like pleasant at all.

And holes, almighty holes. 'Your pantyhose has a hole', a woman smiling at me and pointing to my leg. 'Shush, don't say anything, it is worse enough' her friend tries to stop a supposed embarrassment. 'Put some soap, it will dry out and won't unstitch down your leg. Or use clear nail polish. You don't have nail polish with you? Oh. Then use soap', women helpfully nodding together. This type of conversation happened too often. Despite the practical tricks tights were ruined. 

Nonetheless my love for them started right away when I first saw colorful tights at the shops, not just black or beige or ugly-I'm-not-sure-what-kind-of-brown (they made me look very fake tan-ny). And all that being uncomfortable was gone. The power of color. I haven't noticed how I got double rainbow in my drawer that after a while I needed whole drawer just for pantyhose (a preposterous thing!). 

So what is the connection with chair you may ask? That far into reading it must be quite obvious. I mentioned probably too many times before that I'm a bit of a pack rat/re-cyclist, perfectionist and OCD hybrid. A lot of stuff in my home is organized by color, sometimes by the purpose of a thing, if color is not enough. So if I need to change a chair cover 'No problemo!' I will take a bag full of old colorful stockings and will get to work sooner than my inspiration with creative sparkles could possibly disappear into abyss. I did. The big job resisting to throw old or sadly only one time wore tights ('I just hardly touched that invisible split on the chair!') washing and finding the right place to store until needed, wasn't useless waist of time. There was a moment or two or three when I just wanted to throw my ruined tights for good. Seriously, I will ask myself looking at the bag 'Where would I use old pantyhose?'. 'For a chair makeover' - only now I know the answer.

Recycling (especially reusing) is a good thing. And so surprisingly exciting to me, as well as DIY. When I see what people can create with ordinary things, I turn to a little school girl right before the summer break 'Adventure time!!'. After all a good cook can make a soup out of simple axe (Lithuanian folklore). 

I played around with the stockings, I knew what I wanted and how I would prefer chair's cover to look, but it was more similar to a process when you draw several circles and after that it comes to life as an owl than where you do the exact same thing as imagined from the start. Usually I have to take into account that something with the materials I have are not possible, sometimes I find even new possibilities that I couldn't find out otherwise. Smart people call it real life experience and experimentation. The process of cutting pantyhose, putting fluffy stuffing in it and sewing all together wasn't very entertaining, but there was no way I could avoid some dull moments. Humming a winner song while making countless sausages helped a little.

I wanted funky chair. And I made one. Because it wasn't funky enough without big green dots, I made them too. Now I can rest in peace. When sausages were finished was time start the weaving. I was regretting a bit that didn't make sausages a bit longer than the cover, because weaving got very complicated at the end. Nonetheless, I finished and was pleased with the result. I am, I am.

Oh oh oh, and for the finish I do have another story here, where like usually something in my experiments went terribly wrong. About two years ago I wanted white pantyhose with plum color polka dots. I needed them in a day or two, but in stores couldn't find anything similar and internet gave me a waiting period of probably two weeks. I want it? I can't have it? I will make it! Expectations varied from high to very high, reality somewhere in between the opposite side - low and very low. In order to make big even polka dots you need to stretch the pantyhose. The easiest way is just to put them on. I did, I put them on and painted like that. Oh my, that was horrible idea. Evenly? It was everything but evenly and sporadically in size and distance. The evening was memorable by me standing in a tub and trying to take paint off my legs. Oh fun times! Probably better idea was just to paint dots on legs straight without any tights. For the matter of fact I heard very old rumors that many years back, women, who couldn't afford or more likely couldn't find pantyhose, drew a plain straight line at the back of their legs with a marker (FIY in old times tights had a visible hem at the back) that it will look if they were wearing real pantyhose. 
My story about pantyhose (sausages) and one chair is completed, the other to come, but about bees and pleather. Just one last thing, remember how I told that my cat liked to scratch chairs? It appears that he still likes them, yet now is allowed only to sleep on it but no sharpening his nails. I imagine him saying 'You, my little precious'.