Let’s talk hobbies. My neurospicy brain enjoys rotating them – when I go back to a beloved interest after an extended absence, it’s as if I’m rediscovering its joys all anew. There’s dopamine to be had in this sort of novelty and I’m not one to shy away from it (just don’t overdo it if you’re like me).
The past couple of months however, I discovered a new hobby, and I’m not quit sure how to feel about it: sewing miniature clothing.
I like being able to whip up a pair of trousers in an hour, functional pockets included, and getting the satisfaction of a task completed. If I were to put my brain in an MRI scanner afterwards I’m sure it’d be lit up like a USA Christmas home in December.
There’s only so much fun to be had sewing mini clothes if there is no one to wear them, though – so naturally I’ve purchased a few dolls to dress, all of different body proportions to keep things interesting. I’m 45 and never had a particular interest in being an “adult fashion doll collector,” as they are known, and yet here we are. What is going on?
Anyway, meet the posse.
They’re currently residing in an unglamorous IKEA shelf cubicle but, of course, I have plans to make their accommodations nicer. Miniature sewing is morphing into tiny carpentry, help!
Oh, who am I kidding? It’s already happened. I built them a wardrobe with popsicle sticks and balsa wood rods to keep their clothes tidy and cute. I even bought shoebox templates to store their footwear. I’m in deep.
There is definitely something *very* satisfying about tiny pockets…
Like I said, it’s a weird thing for me to have acquired this new taste for dolls. What do you think, is it weird? Let me know your thoughts!