Then, I paused. I looked up at this shirt, this shirt that only needs the hem, and buttons and buttonholes. This shirt that has been hanging in my sewing room, almost finished, for about 20 years.
I stare at the pattern, thinking how very classic this blouse is, how timeless. How small (it's a size 12, which in patterns fits someone with a 34" bust, a measurement I left behind about 8" ago).
And then I see it, down in the lower left,
Well, that explains it, then. I've never met a Liz I didn't like.