When, all things being equal, the other explanations fail.
(Popping back here between child-chauffeuring engagements) - Good morning, all! On hindsight, I thought I should elaborate on this demented cartoon and Ockham's Razor. Every now and then, while digging in my fabric stash, I come across some print fabric that begs the question, "What in tarnation possessed me to pay money for you?" And there are also times when I'm in a fabric store to buy muslin or solid duckcloth and come away with some bizarre print fabric that wasn't even pretty. Again, that same question. In the past, I've explained it away with
- Well, I thought it would make a nice dress for a girl (not mine) but they grew up before I had the time to make it.
- It didn't look this bad under those florescent lights.
- Purple, brown and neon green was the go-to color combo of the er.. vintage era. Or some era.
- I was low on endorphins (and taste) that day. Everyone makes mistakes.
- I was having a bad-eye day.
- It was the children. What with all the whining, I could barely think - I just grabbed whatever.
- It was on sale! (I use this one a lot)
And then the other day, it occurred to me that there was another explanation: simply bad fabric. And I mean baaaaaaaaaaaad fabric. So I drew this to help soothe the consciences of other remorseful bad-fabric victims around the world. It's a conspiracy. Very few things aren't. Do you see the shears of the accomplice bolt, raised in victory? See, this what I mean.