Owls' Court

Sewing Frustration

How hard is it to find a maternity pattern for a longish full skirt?

Apparently, nigh-impossible. Gnash, gnash. Plenty of dresses, tunics, and the occasional short straight/A-line skirt; but anything a bit more tailored, or longer and fuller? Nada.

Grr.

Later: Oh, wow -- I take it back. After clicking on pattern after pattern, I have found Simplicity 4704, which only shows a top as the pattern illustration, but which has a whole selection of useful stuff including a flared skirt that's below-knee, and which I can lengthen. Huzzah! And I found an evening dress-like pattern from Vogue as well, which means I'll be able to make a nice dress for the book launch (in a pale sage green, perhaps?), and one for the July concert, too (black, of course).

Inopportune

Uh-oh.

I feel like sewing.

This is not a good thing right now.

Oh Dear

It occurs to me that I have time on my hands, and since I'm being anti-social, I can sew again.

And in the Midnight Sienna pic, Karine just happens to have taken my suggestion regarding corsets and boots to heart.

Dee dee dee... let's see now: some tattered black chiffon to go under the pleated tartan mini-skirt... black ass-kicking boots... black lace over black mock-suede corset... black lace over black mock-suede bracers... dee dee dee... and I have all this lovely time and a lonely sewing machine just over there...

And now I really, really want that Yamaha electric cello. Except then I think I'd be the only band member with an electric instrument.

What I Did Last Sunday

Yesterday was a wonderful day. Ceri taught a bunch of us how to piece a quilt block together. The pattern is called Steps to the Altar, which is appropriate because it was a spiritual exercise. It was fascinating, and I finished my block during the actual workshop itself, but only because I'm an experienced hand sewer (although I've never pieced blocks before). Ceri and I had gone on a field trip to La Maison de Calico out in Pointe Claire Village on Friday, and while I was there I discovered the art of machine quilting. Quilting is the actual process of sewing a decorative stitch through the layers of your pieced blocks, quilt batting, and a backing. Ceri's a staunch traditionalist who wouldn't let a machine anywhere near her quilts, but I fell in love with the tone-on-tone designs created by machine quilting solid non-pieced cloth. I'm going to have to explore this. Curses! Another craft technique!

And last night was our debut concert of the 2004-05 season. Gratifyingly, there were about four times as many people in the audience as there were at the May concert in this church, and a larger audience is always a good thing. Everything went so well. Earlier in the day t! and I had used the words "in the zone" in reference to playing music, and that's what the whole evening felt like: I was in the cello zone. My eyes were seeing the notes on the page and my brain was transmitting the correct fingerings and bowings to my hands without engaging the concious mind, leaving me free to enjoy what was gong on without getting gummed up in the mechanics of the process. Sure, there were a couple of places where I lost what I was doing, came to in the sea of sound around me, and sat in mild confusion for a moment or so while I tried to find where we were in the music, but they were few and far between. And even better, I was able to slip back into that zen mode of playing quickly and with no difficulty, in order to enjoy the rest of the piece.

Every piece came off better than I had expected, but three stand out in my mind as really very good. I'm always worried about the Egmont Overture; it has some odd fingerings and rhythmic shifts for the celli, which make a couple of places where the theme rests with us sound weak. Every section pulled it off, though, with style and panache, and it kicked the evening off marvellously. The Water Music suite was a relief, because in warm-up the trumpets weren't in tune with one another and I think everyone was secretly worried that it would sink like a stone. But again, everything was practially perfect, and once the relief had manifested about halfway through the first movement, we settled in and really enjoyed it. And of course, the second half of the program, Beethoven's Symphony no. 1, blew everyone away, including us. I saw our conductor's face glow when we had played the last chords and spontaneously break into an excited grin before he looked down, composed himself, then looked up again to say thank you to us and bring us to our feet to receive the applause.

Ceri and Pasley, who came with us, loved it too, and there's nothing like walking out into a crisp November night with good friends who very evidently enjoyed themselves, and who chatter with you about the various cool bits of the night. Thanks, ladies! Your presence always means a lot to me. And the fact that my husband loves this kind of music that I've introduced him to helps, as well.

I always enjoy playing concerts, but I think this one is the one I've enjoyed the most so far. I find this curious, because the two concertos we played weren't really to my liking. If I could take them out and substitute one of the Haydn symphonies, and perhaps a Mozart symphony as well, then it might have been my ideal concert. But really, most of it had to do with how relaxed I was, how comfortable I was with the music, and the attainment of that elusive "in the cello zone" state.

Maybe I should piece quilt blocks before every concert. Or maybe it was the chicken nuggets I had for dinner.

Okay, Maybe A Nap Wasn't Such a Good Idea After All

Ugh.

Yes, the time stamp is correct. I took that two-hour nap around dinner, and I've been up ever since.

So after adding to my NaNo word count, I decded to work on the Owldaughter site. Not only have the new reviews been posted, but the See page has now been activated, with two categories: Work, and Play. They're nowhere near complete, but because I don't have a functioning scanner I can't do much more at the moment.

I now have an evil headache. I'm going to take some headache candy, and go back to bed.

Halloween Party: Three Days and Counting

There's something remarkably smugness-inducing about pulling off corset-creation in about a total of four hours, and that includes all the finishing and decoration too. I attribute a lot of my success to the corset I made two years ago.

The dye job on the second costume element took beautifully; it's exactly the colour I was hoping for. Now the velveteen just has to dry out so that I can finish the trim, and I have a nasty suspicion that it won't be dry until tomorrow morning.

On the HRH front, it's official: I hate making large costume elements for him. There's miles and miles of fabric, it's heavy, and with the amount of interfacing in it it's even heavier and more awkward to handle. I'd give a lot to have a solid dressmaker's mannequin on which to hang it so that it's easier to fiddle with. On top of that, there are really annoying little tab things all over it and I hate them. I really, truly do. It's one of those things that is described with just a few words in the pattern directions, and is completely misleading; the actual 3D material creation takes you three hours to accomplish. Plus I have to wait for him to get home to check the placement of the sleeves, otherwise I just know I'll have to unpick them all. So grr on that.

I made oatmeal cookies which have so much butter and sugar in them that they're more like candy than cookies, though, to help soothe my irritation. They helped for about ten minutes.

The corset really is quite nice, though. Too bad it won't really be seen.

More Costuming

I'm currently stirring one of my costume elements in a big dye pot. The dye looks like blood where it spilled on the floor. t! would approve.

Finicky things today like tabs and pressing 5/8" under on a bunch of seams. Dreary work.

And what do you know -- they haven't shown up to finish the back door, and they've been on site since 8 AM.

Halloween Update

Seven days till the Halloween party, and my costume is three-quarters done. Tuesday morning I figured that if the window replacement people hadn't shown up by ten, they were probably working on someone else's windows, so they'd not get to the next job till afternoon, so I took the bus to the nearest fabric shop and picked up what I needed and was back in time for lunch. (The window people didn't make it here; in fact, they haven't made it here at all this week. Let's not go there.) I wanted to go to the fabric district, but all in all what I purchased locally ended up being nowhere near as expensive as I thought it would be, and I easily found the fabrics I needed on sale, so I'm pleased.

I made the first two elements on Tuesday afternoon (an excellent sewing machine really does make a difference in speed and precision, which means less frustration), and I made most of the third today; all that remains, really, is to draft another pattern for my fourth and final costume element, and to add trim and fastenings to everything. While some of the trim is finicky stuff such as cording and embroidery which have to be applied by hand (i.e. my job), most of it is HRH's domain, as it involves hammers and grommets and such things. It will keep him busy while I'm sewing his costume next week, the fabric for which we're heading out to the fabric district tomorrow morning to find.

Costume Countdown

You know, it's just not a costume for HRH if he can't make at least one cool weapon of some kind.

Halloween party: fourteen days to go!
Number of costumes to make: two (plus a ritual robe).
Progress report: I should probably buy some fabric soon, shouldn't I...

Ups and Downs

We discovered last week that the purveyors of fine teas in the nearby upper-crust borough had closed up shop.

This is bad -- where am I going to go pick up Dragon Well on a whim? -- but not bad, because they were snobbish prissy shopwomen who belittled their clientele instead of welcoming them and educating them. We drove past a tiny tea shop up on Monkland a while ago, so one of these days I shall have to take a walk up and check it out in order to ascertain its value.

Saturday night after dinner out with friends my stomach and digestive system decided to stage a protest about something (it certainly wasn't the food), and while I'm much better, they're still unhappy about life. We leave for Pennsylvania before dawn tomorrow, so I wish they'd hurry up and settle. We picked up the camping gear from Hiscock's Fine Camping Supplies and Laundromat last night (and also obtained a nice anti-skip personal CD player with tape convertor for the trip, huzzah), so all that remains is to:

- get photocopies to take with us
- pick up gallon jugs of bottled water
- finish packing clothes
- pick up black cord for my dress
- pick up the first-aid kit
- finish hemming Gob Anarchy's robe for the band's first unofficial tour (unofficial because a third of the band will be missing, alas)

I succeeded in creating the body of the robe and put it on to show HRH. It's designed for someone who is about six inches taller than I am, so the sleeves flopped way past my fingers, the hood almost obscured my face, and the hem dragged on the ground. "'S a bit big," I said, flopping my hands about. HRH turned around, saw me, and tried to hide his laughter behind a hand. "Wot?" I demanded. "You look like a cute Dementor," he said, his efforts turning his face red. "Give us a kiss, then!" I siad, stepping towards him. "That's just creepy," he said, "no, thanks."

All three of my female fur-children have staked out this robe as The Best Place To Sleep. Hope Gob Anarchy appreciates how they feel.

To the sewing machine!

Note to Self

Sewing Rule #1:

Cats cannot distinguish between the bits of crumpled paper which you throw for them, and the fragile, crumply pieces of tissue paper pinned to the fabric.

Sewing Rule #2:

Even when you think the floor is clean, when you have cut out your pattern pieces, there will be all kinds of detrius stuck to the fabric when you lift it up.

Sigh.

In Which She Meets and Accepts Her Destiny

The problem with going away for a week and a half is that when you come back, you have a week and a half of work to catch up on, as well as doing your regular daily stuff.

Naturally, I slogged away yesterday, and am experiencing severe "nuh-uh" today.

So I opened my new sewing machine.

*blissful pause*

It has thirty stitch modes. And a clutch. My sewing machine has a clutch.

Goodbye, everyone; it's been nice, but the siren song of my sewing machine beckons. If you don't hear from me again, you'll know that wherever I died, I died with my arms curled protectively around my Kenmore 385.12312100....

So Close!

The costume is minutes away from being finished. Of course, the few minutes that it will take are delayed until tonight, because I can't find the replacement glue sticks for my glue gun, and I need gold cord, too.

The snippy little pocket machine I borrowed from Scarlet won't sew through more than two layers of fabric, I discovered to my immense annoyance, so earlier today I was hand-sewing pieces of slippery satin and interfacing, finishing off the details of a collar. I was decidedly unhappy with the results (I'm picky) when I remembered that I had a tiny glue gun left over from Yule gifts. So I dug it out and began turning bits of interfacing down, moving along happily... until the glue stick ran out.

While I was gluing, though, I thought about how I approach costuming. I'm enough of a perfectionist to want my costumes to be elaborate and perfect, with no sign of a human being having touched it in any way. However, I know they're only going to be worn once or twice, and a costume is about overall effect. No one is going to be peering at my seams. (If they are, they belong in the SCA, not at a superhero party.) Costume purists might choke at the thought of a glue gun, but my costume experience comes from theatre, where no one is close enough to be picky anyway, and emergency repairs usually consist of spit and bubblegum. Having seen close-ups of the costumes from the LOTR film trilogy, I can say with all confidence that nothing looks the same in real life as it does on the screen.Part of the magic is having a real, flesh-and-blood, breathing person moving around in the costume, giving it life and something bigger-than-life, too.

I take pride in that overall presentation when I costume. I'll do what it takes to achieve the effect. All that means is I'm skilled in the art of making a costume look better than it actually is. It's an illusion.

But then -- that's what a costume is all about.

Twenty-nine hours until the superhero costume party!

Pattern Reviews

For all the crafty folk who stop by this blog, I give you:

PatternReview.com

Enjoy!

Damn It

I have three seam rippers, and none of them can be found.

Three. Two of them purchased because I couldn't find the previous seam ripper(s).

The arm pieces to my superhero costume are complete. One's a bit tight; I'll just have to not gain any muscle mass on the left arm until after the party.

I need bleach to lighten a piece of fabric a bit, a seam ripper to unpick two metres of seams, and I need to find my interfacing and my glue gun. Thank goodness this costume doesn't need a ton of sewing, because the little "quick-fix" portable thing Scarlet lent me is good for temporary hems and not much more. Next cheque (whenever that might be), a sewing machine. Absolutely.

But sooner: a seam ripper. Damn it.

Since You Asked...

Since people seem to think my odd hobby has some coolness to it, I'm about to throw caution and my shyness to the wind and share my first project. Here's a couple of pics of the Yule gift I gave to our local cougar:

The OOAK Morrighan Barbie wears a hand-made black linen skirt with two full-length slits in the front, laced shut at the front of the hips with copper floss. Her hand-dyed black halter top with mesh sleeves ties at the back. Woven into her left front braid is a pewter feather; another pewter feather is laced with copper floss to her hand-painted spear, along with a black crow feather. On her right hand lands a hand-made raven, wings held wide. Around her waist is tied a hand-tinted miniature of the recipient's Craft tradition third-degree cords.

And a decent look at the feather cloak which rests on the Morrighan's shoulders, designed to look like two folded raven wings:

I was really pleased with how the whole doll presents an air of alert motion and activity. For any OOAK fans who stumble across this post as a result of a search engine and who need to know, the Morrighan was created from a Kayla Secret Spells doll, and her face was not repainted: I managed to find one off the shelf who had a perfect disdainful yet amused I-can-see-into-your-soul look on her face that I wanted, without any touch-ups required.

The next doll I'm customising is very different from the active and alert Morrighan, however; I'm trying for a softer, dreamier look. And then there are the three dolls I have sitting to the left of my desk, who are destined to become a shadowbox scene of the three aspects of the goddess Brid: muse, smith, and healer. None of them require repainting, thank goodness, only creating original costumes from the sketches and colour notes I have in my notebook. (Yes, yes, fine: the dolls are Batik Princess, TRU Charity Ball 1997, and Grand Entrance 2 respectively. Happy, fellow OOAKers?)

There. More than I ever thought I'd let anyone know about this hobby. Hey, it's costuming in miniature: saves money, saves time, and the result isn't just worn once then hung in a closet.

Secret Project

Some of you know I've taken to costuming fashion dolls, after my stunning success of creating a Morrigan Barbie for a certain cougar last Yule. At the moment I have rough sketches and a few nekkid Barbies in a box, upon whom I've been practicing my painting skills to further customise them.

My second secret project is now well under way. Tal saw it last week, and when I said I was in the midst of repainting the eyes, he said, "No you aren't," which was incredibly satisfying because it meant he couldn't tell the difference. What once was a purple-eyed Barbie showing her little white teeth in a plastic smile is now a dreamy green-eyed lass with a demure close-mouthed smile. I'll let her finish drying and then varnish the paintwork to seal it. Then, ah then, I costume.

I checked the prices of sewing machines at Sears this afternoon; the mid-range model with fourteen stitches and a hard case is $249 on sale till Saturday. Hmm.

Painting and blending the exact shade of natural lip colour was precisely what I needed after alternately wanting to cry and tear things to shreds this afternoon. Writing a severe memo regarding the plagiarism issue made me want to shake the author until teeth flew out of his head. I can't write in this mood, but apparently I can paint.

Shoes!

It's been a while since I updated my reading list. I'm now enjoying Zodiac, a vintage Neil Stephenson. I really like his early work. I'm the only person I know who's read The Big U.

I'm currently munching rice cakes. While people might surmise that this might have something to do with shaping up my physique for my annual body-skimming superhero costume, it's nothing so health- (or fashion-) conscious: I just like the little spiced styrofoam disks. I'm weird that way.

Speaking of superhero costumes, I found the wickedest satin spike heels with ribbon lacing today at the Le Chateau outlet. I also found the perfect top and skirt to kit-bash to make my costume, which I will pick up when the bank thaws my money at the beginning of May. (Yes, "thaws;" Ceri and t! came up with the term as an alternative to "unfreezes"). Hey, if it cuts down on the amount of sewing I have to do, and the cost ends up being approximately the same as material plus sewing-machine hours would be, I'm all for pre-fab costume elements. I'll actually be picking up two skirts, one to wear and the other for extra material to with which to do other nifty costume stuff. Everything will require modification, but modification will take significantly less time than kit-bashing a pattern and sewing it from scratch.

The shoes are just so damn funky. The heels are hilarious. The idea of me in spike heels just makes me giggle helplessly, especially woven satin spike heels with ribbon lacing all the way up the calf. I'll never wear them again, but for nine bucks, I couldn't resist.

By the way, go to CBC's Great Canadians contest and vote. Canadians are cool. Molson says so, but we knew the truth long before the commercials told everyone else, didn't we.

Death of a Loyal Sewing Machine

Actually, now that I stub my toe on it, there was one fly in the weekend's ointment: my beloved toy-like sewing machine is dead. I discovered this while crafting (I love double meanings!) the finishing touches of last night's Yule gift for my coven-sister. This sweet little machine had two speeds, Bunny and Turtle (I kid you not, those are the icons), and has been my trusty companion through Star Trek outfits, several Renaissance faires, ritual robes, Hallowe'en costumes, curtains, skirts, dresses, coats and cloaks for eight years now. It was a gift from my parents, and I don't know how long any of us truly expected it to last, being such lightweight plastic.

I have a couple of options: I can take it into a repair shop and pay goodness knows how much for an evaluation and/or repair, or I can think about a new sewing machine. A grown-up one. Ceri and I were talking about this when she was doing the research to invest in her own machine a couple of years ago. I ought to be responsible and take my sweet little toy in to at least be looked at. I owe it at least that much after mercilessly subjecting it to heavy tapestry fabrics and thick wool that were all theoretically too much for it to handle. With whispered words of encouragement, the occasional prayer and the even rarer swift kick or hard knock, it got the job done, though, no matter what I asked of it.

Until last night, that is. Last night's project was completed entirely by hand, with the help of a curved needle (why haven't I ever used one of these before?), a glue gun, and a passle of cats who were very interested in the feathers I was using.

So.

Naturally, as my sewing machine is down for the count, I desperately want to sew again. Let's hear it for human nature.

Public Service Announcement

Is it too much to ask that people actually do a little bit of research before they post stuff on eBay?

If you’re selling costumes, listing something as RENAISSANCE / VICTORIAN / HIPPY (sic) when it’s a brand new sundress means that either you don’t know what you’re talking about, or you’re implying that your product evokes one or all of these keywords. The only thing that all three would have in common that I can think of is that they have full skirts.

No, wait, there’s a third option – you just don’t care. Or you assume that your potential clients are stupid.

I’m cranky. I was awoken rather rudely at 4.34 AM when a piece of heavy construction equipment trundled down our street, setting off car alarms as it passed. Then the cats woke up. Then my husband woke up and watched the morning news, which I heard very clearly through the pillow over my head.

I gave in, and got up.

The good thing is that it's sunny outside again, which means my mood ought to correspond shortly.

Costume 2002 Pictures

Okay, everyone else has mentioned the costumes, but for those who don't frequent other local web logs, here you go:

I promise better photos with more detail of my costume anon, when we've developed our film from the Hallowe'en party. No, you can't see the Evenstar that Ceri was so impressed with... you'll just have to wait for a close-up full-front shot to appear somewhere. In the meantime, if you want to play around with enlarging these ones for a better look, you can check them out here. (Many thanks, Scott!) My husband and Ceri's husband were two of The Endless from Neil Gaiman's Sandman universe, Destruction and Destiny; here's Destruction's source art:

See, we told you he was an archetype...

On the Art of Costuming

So there’s gloating going on over at Ceridwen’s Cauldron, too. I really need to break this down, for my own sanity.

You have a vision. You design your vision on paper. You struggle with dropping far-fetched elements, or elements that would just be too difficult (as cool as they would be!). You research methods and materials, then purchase materials. You begin the process of bringing your vision into the tangible world. There are obstacles, challenges, mis-read directions, the discovery that the process you theorised would work in fact would defy physics. Methods are re-evaluated. Shortcuts are taken. Certain steps are lingered over. When a step is completed successfully, there is joy, pride, excitement. When the entire project is done, those emotions are directly proportional to the amount of time spent from conception to delivery, anguish felt during the process, challenges triumphantly defied. There’s a physical proof of your talent in bringing vision to reality.

Hallowe’en costumes aren’t about impressing people (okay, I grant that there’s a bit of thrill when people behold your work), they’re about having fun during the creation process; and since both Ceri and I are costume addicts, creating a new costume calls for more time and energy than the average person usually thinks is sane. Ceri and I aren’t building things up by gloating; we’re simply celebrating a couple of months of work, of fun, and now we’re anticipating even more fun when we get to share all that work with others and generally have fun at a party with friends.

Kind of like planning a wedding, now that I think about it. Except without the irritations of caterers and finalising food.

Champagne – okay, sparkling cider – should definitely be involved at this party, I think. It's a celebration, after all.

Costume Countdown

From the husband:

"So Jeff was asking about your costume."

"Really?"

"Yes. I told him it was looking fantastic. He said, What, even better than the Promethea costume? And I said, As amazing as the Promethea costume was, she's outdone herself."

I feel all warm and squirrely inside.

Ed. note: The husband is biased. Terribly supportive and encouraging, but biased.

Done! Costume 2002

Done!

Actually, I was done mid-afternoon yesterday, but I told myself that I was not going to sit down at the computer because I'd look up again and it would be time to leave for orchestra.

Besides, I'm reading a Christopher Priest book (you may remember my impressed-ness with The Prestige) called The Extremes. It's taken me a little while to get into it, because it seems to be about the FBI and VR and people-going-postal massacres, but damn, it's well-written. I got my husband's vest done as well, and forty-five minutes of practicing that, to my astonishment, sounded fantastic. Ah, the things I can accomplish when not chained by e-mail, blogs, and the lure of the wilds of the World Wide Web!

I'm off to work today. Fnyeh. I'm very fnyeh about things at the moment. (You know, Ceri, this word is so fitting at times...)

In my fnyehness, however, I can look at that terrific costume hanging on my bedroom wall, and say, "I did that, wow!", and "Two sleeps 'til the party!".

I'm such a kid. And this costume thing is even worse now that I'm an adult, because now I personally know every hour that went into the creation of the costume, as opposed to watching a parental unit do it for me and getting excited about it second-hand.

Note to Self

Note to self: if you decide to have two layers in a costume, you have to hem two layers.

Sigh.

Three days 'til the party. I'm 98% done. Just have that wretched second hem to do. Thank the gods that Ceri came over yesterday and helped by pinning the first hem in place for me. I have to practice that Handel today (yes, I know, I had all week to do it, and predictably, I did not), and I'd like to get the basic four-seams-and-I'm-done completed on my husband's vest, too.

I went back to the sinus medication this morning. The light on-pseudoephedrine feeling is preferable to the heavy, I-can't-even-think-let-alone-function feeling of having my sinus cavities clogged up.

Onward, ever onward...

Costume 2002 Update

Hmm. From the small flurry of concerned e-mails that landed in my in-box this morning, I appear to have mis-communicated my feelings in my entry on stress yesterday.

No, I'm not currently stressed (well, except about the bath thing no longer being relaxing); I'm just sympathising with Kate about her general stressed-ness, because I've been there, and been there often. Although I've had a nasty sinus headache for three days now, which I am dealing with by taking Excedrin Extra-Strength and using lavender oil; thank you for asking.

Work proceeds apace on the Hallowe'en costume. I dug out the pattern again to create a second layer, kit-bashed a bit more, and came up with an ingenious way to attach it to the first layer. I'm a better sewing engineer than I thought! We took pictures of the costume last night so that I will have a record of how good it looked before I sink my nice shiny shears into it. You know, in case my idea doesn't work. It will, of course. I'm just covering all my bases.

However, I'm on the verge of running out of thread, which amazes me since I bought two spools at the outset to be extra-sure I'd have enough. This makes me wonder how long I've actually spent on the outfit so far, and after calculation I've come up with the following:

Eep! And I still have a few to go, including embroidery and those two slashes. I didn't factor in shopping time (of which Ceri and I invested a few hours) or the anticipated time to be spent tracking down the right colour of hose, embroidery thread, and other little finishing touches. (I can always dye them - hmm.)

Hallowe'en party/due date for costume: 24 days, and counting. Go me!

Costume 2002 Countdown

My stunning Hallowe’en costume has been hanging up for a few weeks now, and yes, just as I had hoped, I’ve been looking at it and loving it and anticipating Hallowe’en with glee.

There’s just one thing. The next step involves making metre-long slices in the existing costume. Two of them.

It’s so pretty, and it looks so damned drop-jaw good on me. I’m petrified to ruin it, quite frankly. These two metre-long slices would really make the costume though.

S’okay. I have five weeks to work up the courage to do it. Well, four, because next week is chock-a-block full of work and teaching and such things. Three, actually, because I’d need a week to recover from the heart-stopping knowledge that I’ve committed hara-kari on a costume that’s taken me hours to get to this almost-perfect point. Now that I think about it, it’s only two weeks, since I’ll need a week to do the finicky final touches after I’ve hacked it apart, and then a week to rest and like it again while recovering.

Oh please, gods, let this work.

I feel the sudden urge to go fetal.

Costume 2002: The Beginning

Operation Hallowe'en has begun.

Muah-hah-hah-hah!

I have cut the paper pattern out; I have cut jacquard pieces out for trim; I have dyed said jacquard pieces; I currently have another six meters of dyed fabric drip-drying in my bathtub. I have purchased Fimo and sparkly things and been successfully creative in that department as well.

The dryer downstairs is being used by someone who obviously does not comprehend how imperative it is that I dry those six meters of wet fabric RIGHT NOW so I can cut out more fabric and move on to the sewing. I'm on a roll, here. S/he is being most annoying.

I was worried about the dying process, but it was a beautiful success. What was once a medium blue is now a lovely ripply pewter grey, and the jacquard pattern shows up much better to boot. I'm now a dye convert. Now if I find a fabric that I love in a shade that's not quite right, Dylon it is! None of that Tintex stuff; I've had such horrible results with that before. (It occurs to me that I have enough of the blue jacquard left to make a corset. A-ha! Do I leave it blue, or do I find a sage green dye? Must put that on the List Of Things To Think About.)

Onward, ever onward. Muah-hah-hah-hah-hah!

Is It the Challenge?

I've been trying to figure out why I enjoy making and wearing costumes so much.

I love dressing up. I know it partially comes from a love of things unordinary. I think it also partially originates from my preference of skirts to pants; most of my costumes are dress-based, after all.

The challenge of creating something is part of it, too. One of my triumphs was finding a classic Trek sourcebook with sketches of uniforms, tracing the six-inch-high picture, enlarging it via the grid method, and making a remarkably authentic bright red classic Trek woman's uniform. (That, I got to wear twice - once at my Hallowe'en party, once a following Hallowe'en at the F/SF bookstore I worked in. Complete with high black boots.) I love putting costumes together because, let's face it, part of showing up in costume is to feel proud of what you've done, to hear other people say, "That's so cool!", and with the proper finishing touches, it's all just so satisfying.

I also enjoy sewing. I'm not patient enough to be perfect, so sewing everyday clothes isn't really an option. However, sewing a costume means you can get away with little mistakes and shortcuts most of the time.

I don't think it originates with a desire to be someone else. I like being me, thank you very much. I just particularly enjoy being me in nifty clothes. However, perhaps it has something to do with special occasions. You wouldn't wear a costume every day; dressing up carries with it an implication of holiday and festivity.

Eh. Whatever. I like costuming. I should just enjoy it, and not question it.

The Great Fabric Excursion

So as I wait for web pages to load as I work I’m flipping through blogs; I hit Ceridwen’s Cauldron, scan it quickly, and say to myself, “No, she hasn’t updated it, this is all familiar.” Then I look at it a little more closely. No, I’m mistaken. She has updated it. It just looks familiar because I lived through it four hours ago with her.

Yes, Ceri had much joy today in shopping vicariously through me. Well, Ceri darling, you can just look forward breathlessly to the days in the not-so-distant future when I call you up and scream that there’s no hope and that the pattern is going to hell. You’ll get the lovely experience of feeling sewing frustration through me, too.

If I had a million dollars, oh, the fabrics I would have bought today. Micro-suede. Jacquard. Printed damask. Silk brocade. Stuff I’d have cut after a stiff drink – immediately after, so I could cut correctly before the alcohol began affecting my system adversely. Just a nip for courage. And I would have looked smashing. (The impressive-in-costume, not the inebriated kind.)

Being financially challenged, however, I am now in possession of fabric that will look just fine, and didn’t cost even a fraction as much as the ones that I coveted. I have to keep reminding myself that only Ceri and I would really appreciate the look and feel of the $65-per-metre fabric. It’s a costume, after all. Like my other costumes, I will look amazing for one night, and then hang it up. I do take them out once in a while and try them on, and stroke them, and feel proud of how well I constructed them, but overall, they see use for about five hours max.

I’m letting myself in for a rough time, too, because I’m kit-bashing. “Kit-bashing?” Ceri inquired today. “Is that the term?” Yes, I say, and it dates back from my model-building days (Aha – something else you didn’t know about me!). Kit-bashing, for those who don’t know, is when you combine two or more model kits to create something new, or use a kit as a basis for something the manufacturer didn’t intend it to be. Never satisfied with doing the things the easy way first, I’m combining two patterns for this year’s Hallowe’en costume. No, I’m not telling you what it is, because then I’ll have to live up to your expectations. Forget it.

I’m giving myself two and a half months, though, so everything should be okay. Right?

It was Lughnassadh this weekend, the first harvest festival, and I baked bread to commemorate it, the way I always do. I got home from the Great Fabric Excursion this afternoon and said, “Ooh! Bread!” I’d forgotten I had a whole other loaf. There’s even Brie in the fridge, and pâté, too. And the husband won’t be home for dinner tonight. If only The Fellowship of the Ring had been released on DVD today, instead of coming out tomorrow – I’d curl up in front of the TV with bread and cheese and pâté, and spend all evening convinced that December simply won’t come fast enough.

Corset Accomplished!

Corset accomplished. And it's nice and comfy, thank you very much. Not as much back support as I'd hoped, but better posture (particularly typing at a keyboard) which will, no doubt, help the stress along the spine. The only problem I discovered after the whole thing was together and hemmed and sealed up: the busks weren't exactly even from each end and I must have flipped one around at some point while inserting them, so the right side of the corset is a quarter inch higher than the other. I doubt anyone will ever notice, as this is technically an undergarment, and if they're beholding the undergarment then I sincerely hope they're not in the right frame of mind to be critiquing my sewing skills. The whole thing could have done with being an inch or so smaller around the rib cage to allow for the proper amount of "spring", or lacing tightness, but hey, it's my first shot, and I'm pretty impressed with myself.

Which means, alas, I realise from my phrasing, that I expect to make another one at some point in time. Maybe a nice one, in a satin brocade or jacquard, instead of natural-coloured cotton sateen. Hmm. Blue, perhaps.

No. No, no, no. Not for a long time. Well, a while, anyway. Must start thinking Hallowe'en instead. I had a revelation the other day: I work hard on a costume in October, usually putting finishing touches on it all the way up to the evening of whatever party I'm scheduled to be at. Then I get there, and I'm still so production-focused that I don't enjoy the party and want to leave right away. This year, I intend to create slowly and with time on my hands, so that I can hang the costume up and look forward to wearing it for a month or so, allowing myself to actually get excited about it instead of being tense.

Brilliant, no? I feel so smug for figuring a way around one of my little quirks.

No, I never found that missing piece of boning; I used plastic boning instead that I'd had left over from a Renaissance outfit I'd made. Not only has the corset been finished, while I was looking for the plastic boning I discovered a project I'd started a year and a half ago, and finished that as well. Two! Two projects finished by ten in the morning! And I haven't even had tea or breakfast yet!

I discovered another eight pages of the Great Canadian Novel yesterday after I gave up on the sewing machine. I'm not going to question it; I'm just going to keep sitting down with the laptop and allowing myself to have fun. And now, if you'll pardon me, I'm going to go make a fragrant pot of loose Lady Grey tea, and enjoy my corset for a while.

More Corset Frustration

For some odd reason, I decided to finish the corset instead.

I have now broken two needles and lost one piece of boning. How the hell I can lose a twelve inch long piece of white metal, I truly do not know. But I can't finish the ruddy thing without it.

Apart from that, it's going relatively well, and it will be nice and functional. I need a metal saw to cut down two of the pieces of boning, because of the same problem I originally ran into with the busks, and I'll have to do something about the missing one first too. Trust me, I've torn this place apart already - I had all of them when I started putting the boning in, I know I did, because I had each and everyone of them laid out on top of the fabric. It must be in Kitty Wonderland, along with a few odd earrings, a heavy pewter necklace, a nice pair of boots, and several pens. You know Kitty Wonderland if you've ever lived with a cat: Cat sees object she desires, cat takes object, cat deposits it in pocket dimension available only to those of the feline persuasion, human never sees said object again. Ever. (Although what Maggie-cat could possibly want with a piece of metal, I don't - oh wait, yes, I do know. I need it. Therefore, she must have it. Cat-logic. Sigh.)

I'm going for a walk, and when I come back the missing piece of boning will magically be lying right in front of the sewing machine. And if it's not, I will go work on the Great Canadian Novel. See if I don't.

Corset Frustration and More

I am listless. Lethargic. Languid. Langorous. Languishing. Limp, even.

I have absolutely no energy whatsoever. The most action I have participated in over the last twenty-four hours was waking up much too quickly at 2.30 this morning to bounce out of bed and partially close windows. Some storm! Then, of course, I went back to bed with a headache because of the plummeting air pressure and the waking-up-too-quickly-ness.

I broke three glasses yesterday because someone who shall remain nameless insists on piling all the used dishes into the sink. He claims he can’t stand them being on the counter. My point of view is that the counter is smaller than the sink, so the dishes would get washed faster if they’re on the counter. In addition, piling them into the sink means that as they don’t get washed as often, they take up more room, and I can’t use the faucet to get water in the kettle. Finally, he has a bad habit of just piling, not thinking it through, which means that heavy plates and pots get put on top of glasses and delicate mugs, resulting in breakage of said mugs and glasses when attempts to shift the pots and plates out of the way are made in preparation for washing.

So I was irritated about the glasses. We now have two glasses from that set left. That’s it.

On top of that, I woke up in a crafty mood and pulled out a sewing kit I’d had in my possession for over ten years. Yes, indeed; with all my back problems I’ve been toying with the idea of finally constructing the corset I fell in love with lo these many years ago. Unlike others, I actually have enjoyed my previous experiences wearing a corset; I’ve done it a couple of times now for two runs of stage work, and they’re darned comfortable, let me tell you. So I ordered a reconstructed pattern and supplies from an American dry goods company and then left it, not having time or the sewing skill at that point to accomplish what the pattern asked. After ten years, I’ve acquired a sewing machine and made my share of insanely complicated Renaissance outfits, including a couple of boned bodices, so when I looked at the corset pattern yesterday, hurrah! It made sense! In fact, it was easy! I could put it together in a single day!

Yeah, well, the best-laid plans, etcetera, etcetera.

Having such long legs and a short waist, I have to adjust every pattern I use to shorten the torso, otherwise the waist ends up around my hips. I shortened the corset pattern and then on a hunch, I decided to check to see if the boning and the front busk closing would still fit.

My hunch was correct. The busk was now an inch and a half too long.

Busks are made of metal, like the boning. You can’t just trim it. So I folded the project up and seethed for a bit about the unfairness of the one-size-fits-all mentality. I wasted time on the Internet. I finished Howards End. I decided to watch the movie while the book was fresh in my mind.

The VCR didn’t work.

By now I understood that the day was in fact out to get me. Fine, said I; I’ll read, then. Upon which I remembered that I had just finished my current fiction and had to find another novel to read. I hate choosing what book to read next. Being between books is dreadful.

Then, of course, I broke the glasses before I even started washing dishes.

The day did get better. I watched Howards End over dinner with my husband once he’d reset the VCR. He had never seen it before and was surprised to discover an energetic examination of what constitutes richness, intellectual riches or material possession. I was delighted to re-discover how true the movie is to the book. I also decided to re-fit the pattern and allow for nice big seam allowances on the top and bottom, which I rarely do (why trim the seams when you can sew tiny ones to begin with?), resulting in the front busk just barely fitting. However, alas, there was no way to rescue the glasses.

Today looks like it will be another horribly listless day. At least I can finish the corset. I started another book, Still She Haunts Me, about Charles Dodgson (whose nom-de-plume was Lewis Carroll) and Alice Liddell (immortalised in Alice in Wonderland), but it’s rather banal, so I think I’ll switch to The Winter King which Tas has lent to me.

Know what else is frustrating? I can’t string my own bow. I manage to flex it to about an inch short of where I’d need it to be to slip the looped bowstring over the tip, and then I’m stuck.

Maybe I’ll go see what’s happening in the Great Canadian Novel, which acquired four and a half more pages on Saturday after all that procrastination, thank you very much.

Promethea Pictures!

Hurrah! Superhero photos are already up in Scott's on-line album!

Check us out as Thor and Promethea! (Yes, I know I'm missing the pectoral; that's one of the things that got dropped by necessity in the sewing machine tragedy...)

My Toy Sewing Machine

So my toy sewing machine got fixed this morning and the Herculean (for women, would that be Xenaean, now?) task of sewing the lining to the bodice I'm working on, then turning it and topstitching all around it has been drastically reduced. I'd already decided to not sew the ribbon border to the chiffon pieces I have; I'll glue them instead, so that's not an issue... but the bodice really had me worried. I still have to come up with a skirt too; I think I'll stich it to the bottom of the bodice rather than having two seperate pieces. Easier to wear that way, certainly easier to store.

Yes, I have a toy sewing machine. Anything that is that small, has four basic stitches, and whose two speeds are marked by a bunny icon and a turtle icon is officially a toy in my world. It's like an adult sewing machine version of an Easy-Bake oven, only it's not pink (thank the gods). I absolutely adore it. It was a gift from my parents about six years ago, and it's seen mileage, let me tell you! I never sew normal stuff on it; it's always costumes. Heavy wool for cloaks; tapestry fabric for Renaissance dresses; tough stuff that breaks needles as soon as you get two layers of fabric under the foot, or try to sew down gathers. It's done some pretty amazing stuff. Two nights ago, it finally conked out. My husband opened it up this morning before he left for work, rooted around, loosened something, and it runs like a charm again. Hurrah!

What am I making? Well, a couple of people I know now own digital cameras, so I'm fairly certain that you'll see eventually... muah-hah-hah-hah...

I cannot believe I am actually doing this...