Among my favorite bloggers is The Pintester. Basically, she takes pins from Pinterest, tries them out (often in the half-assed manner of the average person), and creates posts about her attempts.
She's kind of like Mythbusters for pins, except with less emphasis on precision and more emphasis on dick jokes.
Back in May she organized the first Pintester Movement, in which other bloggers followed her lead and fucked up their own pins. She linked to them and they linked to her and it was just one big orgy of (mostly) failed pins and "that's what she said"-worthy lines. I did not participate for some lame reason or another--a mistake I do not intend to repeat this time around. Without further ado . . .
I started by searching for my perfect pin, which had to meet the following criteria:
no sewing (or other fiber arts-ing) anything, no burning anything, and no ingesting anything.
(Look, if I royally fuck something up, I don’t want to have to taste it.) And, in true Pintester fashion, I also had to have the required materials--or at least some approximation thereof--already at home.
Enter the below idea from The Art of Doing Stuff.
|Image from The Art of Doing Stuff|
I only needed three ingredients: white-ish yarn, double-sided tape, and decorative/plastic spiders. (Oh, and a wall, that too.)
|One out of three ain't bad. (Also, according to my dollar store sticker book, the term "bugs" apparently also includes arachnids, reptiles, amphibians, and imaginary creatures).|
Oh, and the wall.
The original post had some nice recommendations--like using either a white wall (which we don't have any of) or clear double-sided tape (which we also don't have any of)--that I read after gathering my materials; I'm a cheap, lazy rebel, so I opted to use that which was already in front of me . . . and already photographed.
First, I taped up the, uh, foundation lines? Lead lines? Look, I'm not a fucking arachnologist.
|I'm also not a Chili Peppers fan, contrary to what you may think . . . .|
Then I got to work on the circles.
|Me. "Working." (This is totally posed; I'm not left-handed.)|
It went well until gravity started kicking in around circle three.
|See how the bottom is starting to sag? AND NO ONE LIKES A SAGGY ASS, AMIRIGHT GUYS? GUYS? Guys?|
I could have used more tape and given the saggy parts a lift (har, har), but I wasn't willing to waste anymore of my precious double-sided quadrilaterals. (See the earlier "cheap" label underneath the picture of a bare wall.) Instead, I continued on, choosing to modify my body acceptance beliefs so that they now included DIY projects. I'm just that open-minded.
I slapped on one more circle and decided it was time for the spiders. When I actually opened the "Bugs" sticker book, however, I noticed a small discrepancy in size . . .
|Well, maybe a little larger than small|
I'd already shrunk the web down from it's suggested size because a) LAZY, and b) the only feasible wall space I had to work with measured about two feet across, maximum (between walls with a bunch of shit hanging on them and walls within my 2.5 year old's reach, there ain't much left). These stickers, however, were still waaaaay too small for effective decorating.
So I decided to use them anyway. (Need I repeat the "L" and "Ch" words again?)
But while I was trying to choose which micro-spiders would best complement my sad sack of a web, I noticed something about some of the "spider" stickers.
|I even circled a few examples; you're welcome.|
They were missing legs. I suppose it could be argued that the round yellow guy and fuzzy orange guy (who both only have FIVE legs, by the way) are just long-legged insects and not spiders, but that little yellow and blue guy with multiple circles around him? HE'S HANGING BY A THREAD FROM HIS ASS; if that doesn't say spider, I just don't know what does.
Now, not ALL of the purported spiders were amputees. The little guy in the bottom right corner has eight legs (even if he looks more like he belongs on Mars than in the center of a web) and a red guy I actually used had eight as well, but over fifty percent of the "spiders" in this book had a maximum of six legs. Way to miseducate the youth and/or encourage arachnid cruelty.
Pushing my sticker-themed disgust aside, I added a smattering of tiny spiders--some anatomically correct and some not--and was done.
|A smattering = however many I tediously peeled out of that book before I started getting impatient.|
I know I should have taken a picture that would show scale better, but *insert excuse here*; and I honestly didn't think about it until just now so . . . .
Verdict: This looks like something your well-meaning but arthritic great aunt would contribute to your Halloween-themed baby shower.