Feed on
Posts
Comments

Thinkin’ Pink

A while back this fabric was on sale for half price. I impulse-bought two yards, with the intention to make a dress. It turns out I didn’t buy quite enough fabric for the pattern I’d originally intended to make up, but I did, in fact, buy exactly the perfect amount to make this:

IMG_1017

I used the ever-reliable New Look 6674, which has yielded consistently good results for me for many a dress. It works equally well for very casual or very dressy.

I think today’s dress is a reasonable midway point and I expect to wear it to work many, many times.

IMG_1015
The fabric is very, very sheer, being a rather lacey textured knit. I will be wearing this dress over a neutral beige slip which is disturbingly close to my natural skin-tone!

Surprisingly, this fabric it is not very stretchy, and made up very well in this very structured style, but it sits better around the neck and across the bust than the woven cottons I have principally used with this pattern. I think future iterations of this pattern are going to be made up in ITY jersey or similar. The drape of a knit makes the neckline lay much better across the bust.

IMG_1014
The 100% Polyester fabric has some sheen to it, as does the nylon/spandex slip, so when shot with flash exposure, the dress looks glossier than it does under normal daylight or artificial light.

It is probably a feature of the calibration of my monitor, but I was expecting this fabric to be of a more coral/orangey tone, but it is very, very pink. Also, what they described as “maize” I would be more inclined to term “chartreuse.” It is a very bright, light green, but since I ADORE pink and green together, I’m actually quite satisfied with it after all.  

As far as technical specs go, I followed the pattern pretty closely, except:

  • I lengthened the cap sleeves by 2″.  I have kind of wide shoulders and look crappy in cap sleeves, but a short sleeve is fine and encouraged.
  • I cut a little bit more flare into the skirt.  I like a skirt that swings.  I probably increased the hem width by about 5″ and just graded it in toward the hip.
  • I eliminated the facing at the neck and bodice fronts, because I thought it would show through the sheer fabric.  The neck and bodice fronts are finished with pink stretch lace, as are the hems of the sleeves.

Let’s just clear the air and start with “animosity,” since alphabeticaly it’s the first, and it will be the predominant theme of this entry anyway.

I feel a lot of damn animosity toward taggers, especially those who just scrawl gang tags, names, or slogans all over the place. And I double-hate stencillers, especially those who use a really simplistic stencil and spray their mark on everything they pass. Even my dang dog is a little more discriminate about the territory she marks. And her pee doesn’t leave a visible reminder that she was there.

Anyway, the spraycan shitheads who have been drizzling their marks all over the Jersey barricade along Beardsley Road and on the support pillars of the iconic 12th Street Viaduct have been chapping my ass especially lately, and I decided the other day on my way to work that I would stop and snap some pictures tonight and try to rant it off my chest.

Soooo, here goes. Fasten your seatbelts, and raise your blast shields, it’s gonna be a vitriolic ride.


Right. Where to begin? I’d say first I’d like to point out that the world isn’t owned by anyone, you, me, or the King of Antarctica. If I could justify sloganizing (and I cannot), then I’d say “the world is ours” might be an acceptable sentiment. And as such, it being a collective possession, we ought to respect each others’ claims upon it. Including not impinging upon the public weal by defacing community property.

In short, I’d like to track down the girl who piddled this platitude on the Beardsley barricade and clang her upside the head with her can of Bubblegum Pink spray paint. Fucker. Think something original. And keep it to yourself. And don’t spraypaint smiley faces on public property. That inane damn smiley face just makes this fluffbrained fuzzy-hugging bullshit that much more infuriating.


This appeared on Beardsley Rd. about two months after Adam Yauch died. I find it hard to believe that someone young enough to think that defacing barricades is cool would even know who MCA was, and I find it equally hard to believe that anyone old enough to appreciate the Beastie Boys and perhaps personally admire Yauch would think that poorly-painted testimonials were a good way to express that admiration. Somehow, I feel like the act and the sentiment were not only untimely, but misguided and misplaced. Also, I am not so sure that Yauch would have found shitty graffiti enacted in his honor that great of an honor.


Do you remember back in like 1997-1998, when girls were wearing HUMONGOUS JEANS and skinny little tank tops that said Porn St☆R?  Yep.  Still “capital ‘K'” Klassy.


Now, we are on the bridge proper. 12th Street Viaduct is kind of a big deal. It’s one of the iconic bits of Kansas City’s built environment. Built in 1911, it was the first major, modern connection of the industrial West Bottoms and the commercial Downtown district, replacing the treacherous and inefficient 9th Street Incline.

I don’t know about you, but as a resident of an area with a fairly short list of historical structures to its claim, I am inclined to feel a little bit testy when I encounter evidence of blatant disrespect for what amounts to a public treasure. If the person who scribbled this really loved this bridge as much as he or she claims to, they wouldn’t have painted stupid shit on it in the first place.


The first time I saw this, I said, “Really???” Kansas City doesn’t exactly have a thriving rave culture, and I have a hard time reconciling Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect with vandalism.


And now for the piece de rantsistance, the slogan that bumped up my bile and made this all possible. Click on the image to enlarge, ’cause I know it’s hard to read at this compressed size.

Some shinyassed twee jackoff, brimming over with a heady draught of righteous earnestness and smarmy irony, ganked a line from Auntie Mame and slathered it all over several spans of the guard wall of the underside of the 12th Street Viaduct.

This sort of smug, self-satisfied sloganeering comes from somebody, most likely a callow stripling who has yet to be ground down to size out in the harsh, wide world. Quite possibly a student or recent grad who is still knocking about with his or her buddies with few responsibilities and no fucking perspective. From his or her seat, it sure does look like a lot of people are just awful grey grinds, blind to the passions and pleasures of the world. And I for one, would love to be one of the first planes to take a pass at this one.

Anyway, my last opinion for the night (because I have better things to do than be angry on the Internet all evening) is that if you’re going to deface public property, you should at least have some skill and give us something good to look at. It takes minimal skill to scrawl some words on a wall. It takes actual talent to do this:

IMG_4914

IMG_9694
or this

IMG_2122
or this.

So, people who have been scribbling on Beardlsey and the 12th Street Viaduct: fuck you very much. Get some skill and come back and do something actually interesting.

I expect that most of the people who saw me, and especially the four teenaged skateboarders over by Penn Valley Park, were thinking, “what the hell is that crazy lady doing?”

I expect I elicit that question often.

IMG_3135

I encountered an abandoned rug on my way home from Friz tonight and decided I’d just as soon haul it home, ’cause it looked like it might be kind of pretty.

IMG_3137
It’s seven shades of fucking filthy and it smells like that godawful sprinkle-and-vacuum rug deodorizer, but I like the general look of it.

IMG_3140
And for F.R.E.E, how picky can you get?

IMG_3142
USA made, in the bargain!

Saturday, July 14, 2012, I was up and at ’em at the crack of 7:00 a.m. By golly, I had shit to do, and a finite amount of time in which to do it.

I had provisions to lay in, prizes to prepare, and most importantly, I needed to go scavenge up a few more inner tubes and strap down another whole layer of bottles to the underside of The Majestic Bastard, my newest, and most dubious raft.

IMG_3090
This is the business side of The Majestic Bastard in all of its majisticitudinousnessness. This is five large trash bags of mostly soda bottles, a bit of scrap lumber, three rolls of duct tape and about 20 old bicycle inner tubes.

So anyway, I was up betimes on a Saturday morning, runnin’ an’ gunnin’. Garden watered, breakfast made and eaten, Joel and I set off to Midtown where he had Tai Chi class and I had an important appointment at Sunfresh grocery store. Yeah, we needed regular food for at the house, but I also needed supplies. Supplies like store brand potato chips and a box of Franzia, the liquid of pure, sneaky insanity.

After the grocery run, I thought I’d see if I could beg a few stray innertubes from Tim. He broke off from his session of coffee-drinking and contemplating to bring me down a beautiful wreath of decommissioned inner tubes. Aaaalll right! Business time.

I left Tim with a can of delightful Izze carbonated pomegranate juice and hightailed it for the Hill, so I could get the wine chilled and the boat completed.

IMG_3085
Minnie helped.

Joel arrived home from class just as I was tying off the very last inner tube. The plan was lunch, short nap, and then hitch up and roll out. We strapped paddles, life vests, snacks, and prizes to the underside of our rafts, lashed the head end of the rafts to the package racks on our bikes, and rolled down the hill toward what used to be Korruption in the West Bottoms.

My rig
This is the same towing set up I used this year, but the craft you see above was my 2010 rig.

Anyway, we wobbled and lurched our way down the hill and pulled up in front of the old Korruption building. One of the tenants drove up about the same time and wondered what sort of rolling insanity had just drawn upon his doorstep. He said so long as we weren’t starting a commune on his stoop, it was cool. So, we made no long-range plans, and all was well.

Next, appeared the always-interesting Calvert on a rather classy old Motobecane. One would expect nothing less of Mr. Guthrie.

Twice, a fantastic early 1990s Jeep Cherokee drove past, with two excellent bicycles on the front of it – one a vintage Fisher mountain bike, the other a cute, be-basketed lady’s cruiser. This turned out to be Tim and Teri, who were looking to ride along on the spectator’s route!. Sweet! We were just pleased to bits and pieces to see them. They drove on to Kaw Point where the lot of us were soon met by Christi and the up-for-anything 3:00 ride. They graciously led the newcomers along a merry riverside chase, spectated with might and main, and heckled us with a right good will. Tell ya what, I reckon there’s something for everyone out there!

Then Liz purred up on her stylish motorcycle, just ahead of Jaclyn and Matt, who were following with their tri-pontoon trashboat in the back of Matt’s pickup. They were unable to fashion a satisfactory towing rig for their boat, but honestly, they built a dang boat, so I wasn’t prepared to be picky. Jaclyn is rightly a big fan of the Chunk666 and Rat Patrol efforts toward junkyard aquatics and was adorably, squeefully thrilled to be participating in the Regatta.
IMG_3099

I’d had word from Corinna that they’d had some technical issues with their towing rig, as well, and that they’d just meet us down at Kaw Point.
IMG_3106
Here you see the Detour in the parking lot of Kaw Point.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ornery_chick/7579926064/in/photostreamIMG_3107
The main tragedy of the day was the sad and untimely demise of Trailer Brian’s back wheel.

Technical issues were the words of the day for Project Detour, though travails and a capsizing didn’t dampen the spirits of its mighty crüüe.

IMG_3122
You know, it took them a long-ass time to get down to the launch, to get put in, to get their cargo strapped on and their crew aboard, but by gosh and by golly, they made it to Glow In The Dark Park, and not more than 5 minutes after the rest of us. Their 7-person crew were all pretty handy with their oars, and landed the Detour in much finer style than they launched her.

Thereafter, Jaclyn and Matt’s raft was converted into an impromptu picnic table and the snacks that I brought, along with quite a spread courtesy of Corinna & Rod were laid out and enjoyed.

Jaclyn and I have been chatting about putting on another Regatta in early September, after more of the art students are back in town. She’s a lot better PR woman than I am, and in a better position to rouse other like-minded maniacs out of the woodwork. So, keep a watch on this space for future news and partial entertainment.

Soooo…I don’t know how many words I’ve expended, but as the old saying goes, pictures are more eloquent, so here are mine, and here are Liz’s. Henjoy.

Breakin’ like the…

IMG_0754
Day!

I’ve been getting up with the crack of dawn voluntarily lately in an attempt to beat the heat. The dog needs her daily constitutional, and the garden needs to be watered. It’s been blazin’ assed hot lately and there’s no way I could get the dog’s run done in the evening – by the time it is cool enough to be safe to take her out, it’s too dark to be safe to take her out. As to watering the garden, some of these really scorching days, it gets a drink at sunrise and sunset.

As a result, the tomatoes are looking absolutely gorgeous and everything else seems to be doing pretty well.
Post-piddle victory dance Post-piddle victory dance Post-piddle victory dance

Here’s Ruby on Friday morning, doing her post-piddle victory dance.  Sometimes, after she has marked over somebody else’s wee, she does this ridiculous little victory dance wherein she paws the ground, one foot at a time, then prances around the area in a circle.  I’ve seen other dogs do it, and it never fails to crack me up.

When I was a kid, about 11 or 12, I guess, I was really into getting up to watch the sunrise. I’d wake up crazy early, when the sky was only just starting to turn grey, and watch the sun edge its way up over the horizon. It was a bit of a thrill to see that first tiny orange sliver come into view. Given the ambient dust in Western Nebraska, the sunrises and sunsets are often really quite glorious.
2008_07_07 033
A Kansas City sunset, 7-4-08.

Often, after the sun was up, but before it started to get hot, I’d go off for a ramble in the neighboring pastures, and take the family dog with me as a companion. I’d leave a note for Mom by the coffee pot, but plan to be back before the rest of the family was up. In the just-after-dawn cool, the rough, yellowing prairie grasses riffling in the continual wind gave off a sweet, nutty scent. There were small rabbits for the dog to chase, colorful wildflowers to pick and bring back to Mom, and the shallow, sandy Niobrara river to wade in. The dog and I would often follow along the river bank for as long as I figured was sensible, stopping to go down and wade, to chuck cow-chips in, or to look in the stagnant shallows for crawdads, planarian worms, and good, slimy moss.

You might be mistaken into thinking that I’m a morning person. I heartily dislike having to use my actual brainmeats until after at least 9:00 a.m., and with the aide of a fair quantity of coffee even then. Don’t get me wrong; I like being up early, but I like being up early, on my own terms.

70s Glam

As far as I’m concerned, this is pretty much a perfect outfit. DVF-style wraparound dress, big-ass brass cuff bracelet, tri-tone (brass/copper/stainless) earrings, black-patent wedge sandals, red nails. I’ve been really into this sort of 1970s glam thing lately and have a hard time making myself wear anything that isn’t a wrap-around dress and wedge-sole shoes. Big, bold, obnoxious jewelry is always a bonus.

This dress was a pretty recently completed project, based on a 1976 Simplicity sewing pattern (#7705).
DVF-style wrap-around dress.
It is a very faithful knockoff of the iconic Diane Von Furstenburg wraparound dress. I, myself, made this particular dress for summer wear and therefore folded up the sleeve pattern for a short sleeve. I will probably make the long-cuffed sleeve version for fall/winter use, though, in another fabric. I have a brown, zebra-print ITY jersey earmarked for that project.

DVF-style wrap-around dress.
Looks a little different on the old dress form, since she was shaped with the assumption of a straight-front corset, and I do not use such an appliance to form my own figure.

I’m really into the wrap dress thing these days. I’m wanting everything to be about knee-length, and I’ve finally, after all these years, learned to walk in heels. Granted, my max height is about 3″ with 2.5″ being my preference, but given that I come from a background of flats and big clompy boots, we’re talking about a significant footwear triumph which opens the “cute shoes” door a lot wider.

Minor Differences

Acclaimed humor site The Oatmeal has a running series of comics called “Minor Differences” wherein situations go from great to gruesome with the addition or omission of some small factor.

Examples are: the cuteness of a woman wearing just a tee-shirt versus the creepiness of a man wearing just a tee-shirt or the difference in office behavior in meetings held just before or just after lunch.

Without further ado, I wish to add my contribution to Minor Differences and also a sort of halfassed review of an old product.

The Challenger and the Champion.

Behold, the venerable ladies cologne, and one of my all-time favorite “everyday” scents, Jovan Musk. Or rather, I should say, behold, on the right hand side of the photo, my all time favorite everyday scent, Jovan Musk for Women Cologne Spray.

Behold, on the left-hand-side, the pale and shitty challenger Jovan Musk for Women Cologne Concentrate Spray. I’m not sure how concentrating a cologne makes it insipid and retiring, but somehow Coty managed to crapfulate what’s normally a fantastic all-day subtle scent.

I bought the so called Cologne Concentrate Spray by accident – I was in Target and remembered that my bottle of perfume was getting pretty low, and I don’t go to Target that often, so I figured I’d just get ahead of the game and pick up a backup bottle. I popped a familiar orange box into my shopping cart and went on with my errands. Only when I got home, did I realize that instead of the orange-capped, ribbed rectangular bottle, it was a round bottle with a gold cap. I knew this pale impostor – my Mom had been taken in this way once, too.

What’s the big deal, you might ask? I’ll tell you what’s the big deal. For some reason, although both of these bottles of scent start out with “Jovan Musk For Women,” the one on the left purports itself to be “cologne concentrate spray,” while the one on the right is simply called “cologne spray.” However, the two formulations smell completely different. Even odder still, the “concentrate” is actually somehow less potent. The scent is faint once the perfume dries, and is virtually gone after an hour or two, especially if you sweat at all. If I put some on before I leave for work and ride my bicycle in to the office, as is my habit, my perfume is completely gone by the time I get there!

Now the Jovan Musk for Women Cologne Spray, which I’ve worn fairly regularly since my teenage years, is a great, subtle, all day scent. I spritz on a little on the back of my neck, the center of my chest, and the crook of my arms, and I am good to go. By the end of the day, the scent is very faint and has gone from floral to earthy/spicy, because of how it interacts with my body chemistry. I feel that it is a very sexy, feminine, old-school scent and it goes particularly well with this sort of 1970s trashy-glam look I’ve been really into lately.

So anyway, the moral of the story is that minor differences can result in seriously divergent results. Also, check inside the box if you’re not sure, because the good perfume comes in a ribbed, rectangular bottle with an orange lid, while the crappy perfume is in a smooth round bottle with a goldtone lid.

Arf For A Walk

On my way to work this morning, I saw a dog who reminded me of Billy Connolly’s “wee brown dog.”

It wasn’t wee, as such, mind you. He was upper-mid-sized, probably around 60lb, lanky and leggy, probably a pit-bull and labrador mix. He was a tawny buff color, with a white chest, white feet, and the last few inches of his long, curly, whiplike tail looked like it had been dipped in white paint.

He was booking down the sidewalk with a loaded carrier bag held by both handles in his mouth. Whatever was in it, he seemed to consider quite important. He was trotting along at a swift clip, head held high, casting wary looks about, as though he feared to be relieved of his bounty. He was definitely on a mission, a young dog of mystery and intrigue.

Need I mention that Wednesday is trash day in my neighborhood?

I’m sure his people were ecstatic when he got home with his load of diapers or rancid chicken skins, or some other horrible, purulent treasure.

Mansfield ParkMansfield Park by Jane Austen
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I recently read an annotated version of Mansfield park, and while the book was fascinating from a historical and informational perspective, I found the story and writing itself rather heavy-handed. I believe that of Austen’s novels, this one has aged the least gracefully.

Fanny is, like Melanie Wilkes of “Gone With The Wind,” a mealy-mouthed chit. A goody-goody without the faintest spark of spirit (or realism) who sits passively by and somehow allows her faint charm to carry the day.

On the other hand, lazy, spoiled wastrel Tom Bertram, louche Henry Crawford, and vulgar, coquettish Mary Crawford are all so broadly characterized that they, too, strike me as caricatures rather than characters.

Then, there are the Socratic dialogues between saintly Edmund and insipid Fanny; effectively, Edmund works a pygmalion job on Fanny, evidently an age-old device in love stories.

Even taking into account the differences in women’s roles between Austen’s day and today, even taking into account the differences in literary styles, I still have a hard time wholeheartedly praising this novel on account of its lack of subtlety and overt didacticism. It struck me as Austen having some sort of axe to grind, as opposed to her usual smiling-in-her-sleeve approach, and in that, lost a great deal of charm.

View all my reviews

No excuses!

I’ve made a couple of shirtwaist dresses lately, a nod to that sort of late-1950s/early-1960s style that seems to be floating around courtesy of Mad Men and Pan Am and the like. Also, because I like that sort of style and it suits my figure. Anything with a great deal of structure and a well-defined natural waist is generally a good choice for me.

So, the following is what I’ve done with a bit of my spare time and some cheap cotton calicos:


New Look 6587, dating from 2006 is a pattern I have had around for a few years and just hadn’t gotten around to trying out. I’d read mixed reviews about the fit and ease-of-use, so I went after this one cautiously, with some fabric I only felt lukewarm about.

IMG_0559

As you can see, I changed it up a bit. I cut the facing double and reversed it to form a contrasting placket. I added contrast cuffs to the sleeves and used the flared sash that was meant to go with the sleeveless model. I also eliminated the collar, because I liked the simplicity of just the bound neckline. It would make up just as nicely if I actually followed the instructions as given, but I am rather partial to my re-interpretation of this style, and will probably make it up again in some other combination of prints.

It’s an excellent dress for summer, as it is lightly fitted and stands away from the body. There’s nothing like a cheapie cotton dress for summer, as it looks presentable and nice, but is breezy and simple to wear.

I did, however, swear many vile epithets as I stitched all those buttonholes. People, this dress has 12 buttons down the front. That’s a stinking lot of button holes, is what that is.

However, I recently acquired a game changer:

IMG_0564
Huh?

IMG_0568
Any clearer?

IMG_0578
How ’bout now?

So…this is the famous buttonhole attachment, and boy, does it ever work like magic:


Noisy as heck, yes, but quick, neat, and convenient.

When I was looking it over in the junk shop, I noted this:

IMG_0569
The word “slant” seemed to indicate that it would work with the angled needle shaft of my Singer 401A “Slantline.”

IMG_0576
And lo, it does. It fits right on perfectly!

And it made making this:
IMG_0550
a whole lot easier. I think it took maybe 20 minutes from measuring and marking to finishing the buttonholes for this dress, and there are 10 of them! Now, sewing on the buttons was quite another story. These are wooden buttons with a pronounced ring around the outside and they would not fit under my button foot in any direction. So I sewed all of the buttons on by hand, and I hand-stitched the hem, as I wanted it to be absolutely invisible from the outside, and I do a mean blind hem by hand. Theoretically my sewing machine can be called upon to produce a blind hem, but it is not nearly as discreet as a hand-sewn blind hem.

So, anyway, there’s shirtwaister #2:

Butterick 6796
It was based off a 1970s Butterick pattern. I didn’t have enough fabric to cut the sleeves long, and since I wanted it for a warm-weather dress anyway, I just folded up the sleeve pattern to create a cuffed short sleeve. Otherwise, I followed the pattern instructions as given. I don’t really love the stitched down pleats in the skirt, now that I am done with it. It has a kind of awkward look to it. After all of that effort, it is kind of a bummer to not be that satisfied with my work, but it will do. I still really, really like the fabric and the buttons, and I can live with the skirt. I think this dress will transition well to autumn, and will probably look really cute with my tall, brown boots.

IMG_0554

IMG_0557

I think I may try this pattern again with the a-line skirt. It will be worlds easier with the simpler skirt pattern, and I think more becoming to my figure. Also more economical. Pleated skirts are awful fabric hogs! I do like the fit and shape of the bodice – even the enormous and very dated Italian collar. If I make it up with the long sleeves, they have a very nice barrel cuff which will look quite smart.

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »