The story: I was fabric-hunting in the Petticoat Lane district in London, where there's a street of nothing but African fabric shops one after another, selling 6-yard lengths of what's variably called "dutch wax fabric," "african wax fabric," etc. The marketplace looks like this, with racks and racks of clothing available for sale out in the street, and wax fabric storefronts on both sides of the street:

I shot a lot of photos in Europe. The collection is available at http://www.flickr.com/photos/domesticat/collections/72157631548498001/ and is broken down by city and by theme, but since I've been asked a few times, I thought I'd pick just a few photos to tell the overarching story.

I don't know who among you reading this will be shocked and who will stand up and yell ABOUT DAMN TIME, WOMAN.

I've been facing this decision for some time, and through a multitude of tiny steps I inched my way toward it, nailing it down by unofficial degrees, but never being brave enough to take a step that would commit me fully and financially. I seeded the ground earlier this week, not explaining to my friends what was going on but saying "if I don't commit by the weekend, beat me senseless."