fuck it

I sewed this dress and left all the edges unfinished...I was planning to finish the edges later in the week.
The dress hung unfinished, I was always more interested in starting shiny new projects rather then finishing the boring black dress.
Weeks passed and I began to accept the dress as it was. The raw edges were charming me with their thready texture and I began wondering why I need to “finish” this dress at all...maybe it was finished. In any case it was my decision, that's why I make my own clothes in the first place. My inner punk felt deeply connected to those unruly threads and welcomed the impending chaos.
I started wearing the dress...a lot. Some people were really worried about the dress fraying away into nothing...I wasn't. I
wanted to see what would happen to those fraying edges and worried people.
This dress has become a favorite dress. I feel liberated when I wear it and it reminds me that even when my dress is falling apart...beauty and good can be found in that, in letting go and letting be.