mortimerhr
1.4K posts

mortimerhr
@mauvais
HR Business Partner
Accra, Ghana Katılım Ağustos 2007
1K Takip Edilen279 Takipçiler

@Eman_8282 I love the pattern and colours. Just looking at it makes me feel warm and snug ❤️
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@saniyafatma1278 It is beautiful. Hope you get to wear it and do post a photo so we see how elegant you looked in it.
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I'm sitting in my bedroom staring at my grandmother's 1950s wedding dress, and I honestly don't know what to do anymore. Found it in her attic last month - sixty-four dollars was all she paid for it back then. The moment I saw all that delicate lace and the full skirt, my heart just melted.
It felt like finding buried treasure. But apparently I'm the only one who thinks so. My sister took one look and said, "You're not seriously considering wearing that old thing, are you?" My best friend was even worse - "Nobody wears sleeves like that anymore, and that neckline is way too conservative. You'll look like you're playing dress-up." Their words keep echoing in my head, making me second-guess everything.
But when I put this dress on, I feel connected to something bigger than trends and Pinterest boards. I feel like I'm honoring the woman who raised me, who taught me that real beauty doesn't need to scream for attention. I already found this incredible seamstress on Tedooo app who specializes in vintage alterations.
She was so sweet when I explained the story, and she's going to take in the waist and adjust the hem while keeping every bit of the original character intact. I've already paid her deposit, and honestly, even if I hadn't, I don't want to change a single thing.
Posted about it in a DIY group yesterday hoping for encouragement, and while people offered suggestions for "modernizing" it, I realized something important. This dress doesn't need to be fixed or updated or made trendy.
It's perfect exactly as it is. I'm done asking for permission to love what I love. If walking down the aisle in my grandmother's dress makes me happy, then that's exactly what I'm going to do.
Sometimes the most beautiful choice is the one that feels right in your heart, even when everyone else thinks you're crazy.

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I met @lang_lang in Paris 🤯🎹
Today I was playing piano at Gate de Lyon when something incredible happened...
Thank you @SteinwayAndSons for allowing us to play piano in the best condition on your amazing two upright pianos!
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@mr_muskxnews Roar, rear, redeemer, richer, reaper, ringer, rimmer, runner, rower, racer…just to name a few.
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My mother-in-law said my quilt looks like a thrift store threw up on my bed, and I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.
It took me two years to make this. Every single square is a different fabric, most of them from clothes my kids outgrew, old curtains, or tablecloths I found at estate sales. That orange floral print in the corner was my daughter’s first Easter dress. The dark blue paisley came from my husband’s shirt from our first date—the one with the torn pocket he refused to throw away until I finally cut it up for this.
My mother-in-law came over last week, took one look at my bedroom, and said, “It’s very busy, isn’t it?” in that tone she uses when she really means this is hideous and you have terrible taste. She said her quilts are all coordinated, matching fabrics, professional-looking. Said mine looks chaotic.
She’s right. It is chaotic.
It’s every phase of my life stitched together—squares that don’t match, colors that clash on purpose, patterns that argue with each other. I learned to quilt from YouTube videos at midnight after everyone went to sleep, pricking my fingers until they bled because I couldn’t figure out how to use a thimble properly.
I bought most of the backing fabric from someone’s destash sale online—eight yards of the perfect dark floral for twenty dollars. I found binding supplies online too, from a woman who quit quilting after her divorce and just wanted it all gone. We ended up messaging about our projects, and she showed me how to do proper mitered corners and sent me links to other quilters online who sell vintage fabric scraps.
My mother-in-law’s coordinated quilts sit in her linen closet, wrapped in plastic. Mine is on my bed every single night, covered in dog hair and coffee stains and the weight of every memory I sewed into it.
Cheesy or not, it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever made.
Credit - Elisa Rogers

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