So last month I was digging through my drawers at my mom's house and I found my little crocheted cream gloves that I wore for Easter one year when I was a child. Now I really did think about saving them... so maybe I could pass them down to my daughter one day, but then I realized that that would be hoping I would have a baby girl one day.. and, if you know me, all I want are little momma's boys. A girl would just be wishing bad karma on myself. I can see it now... this little bundle of faery wings and tulle demanding dolls and clothes and attention and then after I give it all to her (+ my heart and soul) she'll look at me and say "I feel like you don't love me mommy"... like I use to do to my poor mother. Oof. I love you mom! And I'm sorry for torturing you!
Anyways! That's when I took a pair of scissors to them!
I call this:
"The Bad Ass Southern Belle"