Unwrinkle your nose, shit is perfectly edible and might be eaten at some point.
The choice of how to eat it is what’s more important you see, for though it is well known that shit can simply be eaten with one’s bare unwashed hands, shit can also be eaten properly with a fork and knife. Even with chopsticks, for the more adventurous.
Yes, some sit down to devour the pungent faecal mass with such polished table manners, one would imagine it were a three course meal at a cordon bleu restaurant, with the stinky shit artfully plated on fine china, silverware laid atop folded napkins, steamed hand towels and fine linen tablecloth.
The housemaid is pregnant. ‘But that’s how men are, they are all like that’. Resigned acceptance or perhaps aloof indifference.
So, with a knife she cuts into the sizzling shit and guides the fork into her mouth, then washes it down with diarrhoeic champagne bubbling with a most peculiar breed of shame; the sort that another’s embarrassment imposes on one.
‘What would people say?’ To the casual observer, she’s relishing her feast. To herself, with no small measure of compromise, she says Hmm this isn’t half as bad as it appears, in fact it leaves a sweet tangy after-taste if I push it to the back of my throat then swallow quickly without chewing. An acquired taste of sorts.
In defining shit, need anyone be reminded of the fact that it decomposes? When exposed in the open, it breaks down till all that remains is grains of dirt that eventually blend with the earth.
If the nature of one thing mirrors the very nature of another thing then surely they are one and the same thing, no? Lies are quite shit-like. After exposure, a lie disintegrates until all that’s left is the dirty grains of deception.
Alas there is hope! The decomposition process of a shit-ish lie can be halted with the organic preservative known as tradition.
Unsavoury behaviour by both males and females that’s been long accommodated can become confused for tradition. Some falsehoods slyly conceal themselves in this familiarity that tradition allows us to indulge in, until they become convenient excuses for bad habits and regretful choices.
It is for this same reason that politicians are passively indulged. ‘Politics is a dirty game, they are all like that’. Now, “Honest politician” almost resembles an oxymoron. Does infidelity somewhat enjoy similar privileges?
‘It is their nature, men are all like that’. When a lie has travelled for many miles across the universe, footsteps imprinted over the sands of time, does it gradually drop every facet of falseness as it staggers along until it begins to resemble the truth?
Someone asked me what I’d do if I discovered that my spouse was cheating. This was my honest answer- Today, I do not know because there are lessons that only experience can teach one, some things are better imagined.
However, I do know one thing, regardless of how I choose to eat my share of shit, whether crudely with my hands or daintily with cutlery or perhaps not even at all, I will not hold washed hands with anyone else and recite lies woven on traditional looms. They are not all like that.
Anyway, tradition is deeply woven into the yarns of Aso-oke fabric, and I like that. I was searching my mother’s clothes when I found this deep powder blue silk aso-oke gele, I asked nicely and she gifted it to me.
The architecture of the dress is a satin bustier bodice, with an organza overlay and an aso-oke pencil skirt.
Using my self drafted basic bodice block, I drafted a classic princess style-line using the shoulder bust dart and the waist dart. Then did a bust tightening adjustment to remove ease in that area so that it would fit snugly.
I also sewed plastic boning within the panelled seams of the lining to give the bustier support. Fusible wadding was also attached to the lining to give the bustier structure.
The overlay pattern was drafted by modifying my basic bodice pattern into a short sleeve kimono.
Organza is my second favourite fabric, right after lace, it has such a dreamy quality to it. Due to its slippery nature, I used the paper-stitch method to trace the pattern onto the fabric by first sewing the pattern paper onto the fabric, then ripping it off, leaving the thread as a sewing guide.
I lowered the waistline of the overlay by two inches. When attached to the bustier at the waist, the effect of this is a blousy silhouette.
One layer of organza was used for the overlay bodice, with a round neckline and two layers of organza for the sleeves, with an inverted pleated peplum sleeve hem. The sleeve hem was finished with a narrow double-fold hemming.
The overlay seams were wrapped with bias tape, and at the neckline this served the dual function of finishing and embellishment, I allowed it to extend by 30 inches. The CB lines of the organza overlay were doubly folded and edge-stitched, then left to hang freely, not attached to the invisible zipper.
I planned the pattern placement such that the fringed edge of the aso-oke was positioned at the skirt hem, the silky tassels add swishy spice to the garment.
The fabric had considerable loft so I chose not to line it. I should mention that aso-oke frays badly when cut on the straight grain but not so much on the cross grain. So, I secured the seams by wrapping with bias tape.
One golden tip is to first sew down the tape before cutting the excess seam allowance off and then flip over the tape and sew again.
Fuschia one inch grosgrain ribbon was stitched as a waist stay, this acts as an internal stabiliser by anchoring the dress at the waist. It’s a rather nice haute couture detail.
The aso-oke was actually customised for aso-ebi and has a floral print on the reverse side, which made the insides of the dress look even more beautiful than the outside.
This was an elaborate dress and I thoroughly enjoyed the sewing process. I like the idea of mixing traditional beliefs with a bit of transparent reality, quite like my aso-oke and organza fusion. 🙂