E
E
Timestamp: 60th of Winter 513AV
The news that her hired help wouldn’t be able to start until spring had hit Rosela hard, and she was more than unhappy that she had to finish out the rest of the season by herself. Not entirely by herself, she supposed, eyeing the new section of the wall that covered up the burn damage done earlier in the season. Orabelle, her new cosmetologist, would be the front room with her just until the end of the season, after which, Rosela only had to be out there once every six days. The reversal had not yet lost its humor, formerly one in six days were her days of rest, now they were her days to be restricted to the front room of the shop.
The prospect of change had awoken a hunger in her, a desire to be experimenting, to find new ways to push the limits of her four walls. She hadn’t even decided yet what to pursue, now that RDF makeup was going up. Two ideas in particular were appealing – weaving and perfume. Logically, she wanted to be able to offer shoes as part of her lineup, but frankly, it wasn’t a very interesting trade. She’d spend most of her time making boots and other practical footwear rather than the heels and cute things she had in mind.
At the moment though, she had inventory to update and a store front to run, on a blustery, miserable day that seemed to be keeping absolutely everyone indoors. There was a bundle of pinned leather and various types of cloth under her front desk and a drawn-over piece of design paper in front of her, ready to be filled with ideas. The leather and cloth bundles were mostly pre-cut gloves, to be finalized and stitched once she had her designs.
Eager to be done, she launched into the designs quickly. The back of the hand on gloves was a good place for decorative elements, and was thus a place to start. A simplistic flower was drawn, each section colored in to indicate depression into the leather. A semi-circle of small stars were drawn, but she instead focused on the outlines, as they could be stitched on instead of impressed. Simpler additions were also possible, and she drew two sets of rectangles, one that would lie parallel to the hand, and one that would lie crossways.
In an attempt to go more decorative, she attempted a rose imprint. Drawing small arcs clustered together, she made them bigger as she moved outwards before drawing a larger curving shape for the outmost petal. The final product was less than satisfactory, and she indicated her opinion with a small ‘X’ in the corner. Still hoping to keep the idea, she tried again in a space next to the failed rose, starting with smaller, more variable arcs in the center, and moving out to arcs not quite as big as before. The curve of the outermost petal was less dramatic, and she added a line next to it, for the hint of an outer petal next to it. The result was satisfactory, and she put the designs to the side.
She’d imprinted leather before as a common design element, but disliked doing it in winter because it required her to jump outside. Grabbing her waxed wooden bowl, she walked as a man condemned to the front door. It would only be for just a moment…
Before she could talk herself out of it, she thrust herself through the door, dashed the three steps to the edge of the building, and scooped up some snow in her bowl. She was back inside trying to suppress her shivers in another flash.
”Getting a bit warm in here, are you?”
”Shut up,” she snapped at the snide shadow under her front desk, unable to think of a witty comeback. She swore she heard it snicker.
Being sure to stick her boots right through the middle of the shadow as she sat down, she picked up the first bundle of leather to work on while the snow melted. This one was of a dark leather, and was cut in a gauntlet style with a tall, wide wrist. It was big enough to clearly be men’s gloves, so no decoration was needed. Removing the leather clamps from the trank, the main part of the glove, she was working on, she twisted her leather needle through the two layers in a stab stitch, as it was too thick for a running stitch. When she finished the seam, she turned her needle around again instead of knotting off, and ran another line of stab stitches going the opposite way, using the holes she already had open for the first row of stitches and filling in the spaces in between.
One hand lifted her snow bowl and saw that it was satisfactorily melting, to be used later when doing the leather imprints. Putting it back down, she turned the glove over in her hands and began to stitch the opposite side.
E
E
E
Timestamp: 60th of Winter 513AV
The news that her hired help wouldn’t be able to start until spring had hit Rosela hard, and she was more than unhappy that she had to finish out the rest of the season by herself. Not entirely by herself, she supposed, eyeing the new section of the wall that covered up the burn damage done earlier in the season. Orabelle, her new cosmetologist, would be the front room with her just until the end of the season, after which, Rosela only had to be out there once every six days. The reversal had not yet lost its humor, formerly one in six days were her days of rest, now they were her days to be restricted to the front room of the shop.
The prospect of change had awoken a hunger in her, a desire to be experimenting, to find new ways to push the limits of her four walls. She hadn’t even decided yet what to pursue, now that RDF makeup was going up. Two ideas in particular were appealing – weaving and perfume. Logically, she wanted to be able to offer shoes as part of her lineup, but frankly, it wasn’t a very interesting trade. She’d spend most of her time making boots and other practical footwear rather than the heels and cute things she had in mind.
At the moment though, she had inventory to update and a store front to run, on a blustery, miserable day that seemed to be keeping absolutely everyone indoors. There was a bundle of pinned leather and various types of cloth under her front desk and a drawn-over piece of design paper in front of her, ready to be filled with ideas. The leather and cloth bundles were mostly pre-cut gloves, to be finalized and stitched once she had her designs.
Eager to be done, she launched into the designs quickly. The back of the hand on gloves was a good place for decorative elements, and was thus a place to start. A simplistic flower was drawn, each section colored in to indicate depression into the leather. A semi-circle of small stars were drawn, but she instead focused on the outlines, as they could be stitched on instead of impressed. Simpler additions were also possible, and she drew two sets of rectangles, one that would lie parallel to the hand, and one that would lie crossways.
In an attempt to go more decorative, she attempted a rose imprint. Drawing small arcs clustered together, she made them bigger as she moved outwards before drawing a larger curving shape for the outmost petal. The final product was less than satisfactory, and she indicated her opinion with a small ‘X’ in the corner. Still hoping to keep the idea, she tried again in a space next to the failed rose, starting with smaller, more variable arcs in the center, and moving out to arcs not quite as big as before. The curve of the outermost petal was less dramatic, and she added a line next to it, for the hint of an outer petal next to it. The result was satisfactory, and she put the designs to the side.
She’d imprinted leather before as a common design element, but disliked doing it in winter because it required her to jump outside. Grabbing her waxed wooden bowl, she walked as a man condemned to the front door. It would only be for just a moment…
Before she could talk herself out of it, she thrust herself through the door, dashed the three steps to the edge of the building, and scooped up some snow in her bowl. She was back inside trying to suppress her shivers in another flash.
”Getting a bit warm in here, are you?”
”Shut up,” she snapped at the snide shadow under her front desk, unable to think of a witty comeback. She swore she heard it snicker.
Being sure to stick her boots right through the middle of the shadow as she sat down, she picked up the first bundle of leather to work on while the snow melted. This one was of a dark leather, and was cut in a gauntlet style with a tall, wide wrist. It was big enough to clearly be men’s gloves, so no decoration was needed. Removing the leather clamps from the trank, the main part of the glove, she was working on, she twisted her leather needle through the two layers in a stab stitch, as it was too thick for a running stitch. When she finished the seam, she turned her needle around again instead of knotting off, and ran another line of stab stitches going the opposite way, using the holes she already had open for the first row of stitches and filling in the spaces in between.
One hand lifted her snow bowl and saw that it was satisfactorily melting, to be used later when doing the leather imprints. Putting it back down, she turned the glove over in her hands and began to stitch the opposite side.
E
E