This Sunday I'm feeling pretty 30s. This is a pattern catalog from the lovely mail order company, Marian Martin. There is no date on the catalog, which is a tad oversized, but judging by the styles, I'd gestimate from 1932-1933.
Enjoy!
Fun with flowers
It was too hot to go out and really do anything a few days ago, so I turned on the fan, pulled out the tripod and got out some flowers.
Wardrobe deficit: 10 shoes for $100
Okay, okay. I know I was a bit uppity in my last post about shoes, and how cheap shoes were just beneath me. Well, not beneath me, but I was just over them.
Turns out I'm not.
Here are a few of my non cheap shoes just resting in the closet.
"You're fat, but I'd still sleep with you."
I was taking the train to dance class last Monday. It was a basic medium hot Los Angeles day, and the train stop is about half a mile from my apartment. I like to walk. Now, seeing as LA seems to like to not have trees appropriately planted along their sidewalks (they settled for palm trees but that's another rant), I was getting smacked in the face with the desert sun. Still, walking and jamming to Sam Cooke on the iPhone made the ten minutes to the train breeze by.
That's what I could have used, a breeze. I was 'glowing' to use a word. As I get down to the subway terminal, I pull out my hankie and blot my face. This man, I use that term loosely, comes up to me and says, "You're sweating? You should get your blood pressure checked." I had my headphones in, so I took one out. I only pop one out when I don't really want to talk to someone and I said 'excuse me', because I didn't hear him. He repeated himself.
He was an older man. Tall, skinny, my complexion. Kind of a caramel Snoop Dog, who looked hispanic. He reminded me of a soggy cigarette, as in he looked used and haggard. He was about 50ish and had no regard for personal space. I don't think he was a bad person, just an ignorant one and I didn't feel threatened, not at 6 in the evening surrounded by other people waiting for the train at least.
He kept talking, but I really was not listening. I was polite and some of the stuff he said was funny. More smile and not funny. I'd smile at him, but I learned you don't ask questions to people who engage you like this. They will never shut up. He went on to give a candid synopsis of his life: wives, kids, gang, shot, jail, etc. I had put my head phone back in two times and he still kept talking.
"Yeah, as big as you are, you should have your blood pressure checked. You should not be sweating. But you are young, and fine..." I had put my head phones in again. He tapped my shoulder and then began to comment on my lady parts. Now again, someone else might have been freaked out, but he totally meant it as a compliment. Ghetto thug poetry, if you will. Still, it was way over the line, especially since that was the second time. I began to step away.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, smiling. "I'm just keeping it real, you're fine."
To which I said quite bluntly, "You can still be polite and 'keep it real'. I put in my headphones and walked down the platform.
Now, you might be horrified by that situation, and I can see why, but I shit you not, this happens to me at least once every 4 to 6 months. Older used up and gross men coming up to me and saying basically, "You're fat, but I'd still sleep with you." Gee, I feel so special being considered sloppy seconds by someone who is and I can say this with all certainty, beneath me.
This does not count the numbers of homeless men who make passes at me. That floors me. A friend said, 'they do it because it's not like they have something to lose,' but come on!? If it were a cat call like they do to the women they KNOW they have no shot with, I can perhaps grasp it, but some of these 'men' have walked up and just said the nastiest stuff. What am I, a skank magnet?
When I lived in San Francisco a few years ago, a homeless man followed me to the front of my building saying how he'd like to take me to a hotel room and just...(I think I just threw up a little). Thanks for the offer homeless man who smells like his own excrement and is so smiley with brown and missing teeth, but I think I'll pass, far, far away. I didn't feel scared, or threatened, I mean, how can you? It was sad mostly. I just looked at him as you would a child having a tantrum. I mean, what else can you do with that? I guess I fit a physical stereotype that seems to be quite strong out here.
Are bottom feeders all I attract?
The sad thing is, I never get approached by my peers. I don't physically fit the type who would be interested in the things I'm interested in (see my blogger description). I get that. I've understood that my whole life. When I see people out and about, I tend to look at them as a whole to grasp the type of person I think they *might* be. How they hold themselves, how they are dressed, how their hair is arranged, how does their skin look, are they smiling, what are they carrying, personal effects, etc. In a totally visual first encounter, that's all I have to work with. I can see some hipster dressed young people and might think, 'huh, they might be cool,' but people look at me, and I assume they don't look at the nuanced persona I display like I do with them. What kills me even more is it's not as if it is something that you can change about someone.
I know, I'm asking too much of the human race. :)
**Edit**
I forgot to tell you guys about the old African man who approached me at the grocery last month and told me God said he could tell me I was beautiful and that only God would tell him to say that to a woman if she were meant to be his 'Queen'.
Now, I have no idea what this queendom would entail, but I just smiled and nodded as he chatted me up for nearly 20 min. He even told me how he met Halie Barry and didn't say *she* was beautiful, but that I was. Again, I feel so special.
That's what I could have used, a breeze. I was 'glowing' to use a word. As I get down to the subway terminal, I pull out my hankie and blot my face. This man, I use that term loosely, comes up to me and says, "You're sweating? You should get your blood pressure checked." I had my headphones in, so I took one out. I only pop one out when I don't really want to talk to someone and I said 'excuse me', because I didn't hear him. He repeated himself.
He was an older man. Tall, skinny, my complexion. Kind of a caramel Snoop Dog, who looked hispanic. He reminded me of a soggy cigarette, as in he looked used and haggard. He was about 50ish and had no regard for personal space. I don't think he was a bad person, just an ignorant one and I didn't feel threatened, not at 6 in the evening surrounded by other people waiting for the train at least.
He kept talking, but I really was not listening. I was polite and some of the stuff he said was funny. More smile and not funny. I'd smile at him, but I learned you don't ask questions to people who engage you like this. They will never shut up. He went on to give a candid synopsis of his life: wives, kids, gang, shot, jail, etc. I had put my head phone back in two times and he still kept talking.
"Yeah, as big as you are, you should have your blood pressure checked. You should not be sweating. But you are young, and fine..." I had put my head phones in again. He tapped my shoulder and then began to comment on my lady parts. Now again, someone else might have been freaked out, but he totally meant it as a compliment. Ghetto thug poetry, if you will. Still, it was way over the line, especially since that was the second time. I began to step away.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, smiling. "I'm just keeping it real, you're fine."
To which I said quite bluntly, "You can still be polite and 'keep it real'. I put in my headphones and walked down the platform.
Now, you might be horrified by that situation, and I can see why, but I shit you not, this happens to me at least once every 4 to 6 months. Older used up and gross men coming up to me and saying basically, "You're fat, but I'd still sleep with you." Gee, I feel so special being considered sloppy seconds by someone who is and I can say this with all certainty, beneath me.
This does not count the numbers of homeless men who make passes at me. That floors me. A friend said, 'they do it because it's not like they have something to lose,' but come on!? If it were a cat call like they do to the women they KNOW they have no shot with, I can perhaps grasp it, but some of these 'men' have walked up and just said the nastiest stuff. What am I, a skank magnet?
When I lived in San Francisco a few years ago, a homeless man followed me to the front of my building saying how he'd like to take me to a hotel room and just...(I think I just threw up a little). Thanks for the offer homeless man who smells like his own excrement and is so smiley with brown and missing teeth, but I think I'll pass, far, far away. I didn't feel scared, or threatened, I mean, how can you? It was sad mostly. I just looked at him as you would a child having a tantrum. I mean, what else can you do with that? I guess I fit a physical stereotype that seems to be quite strong out here.
Are bottom feeders all I attract?
The sad thing is, I never get approached by my peers. I don't physically fit the type who would be interested in the things I'm interested in (see my blogger description). I get that. I've understood that my whole life. When I see people out and about, I tend to look at them as a whole to grasp the type of person I think they *might* be. How they hold themselves, how they are dressed, how their hair is arranged, how does their skin look, are they smiling, what are they carrying, personal effects, etc. In a totally visual first encounter, that's all I have to work with. I can see some hipster dressed young people and might think, 'huh, they might be cool,' but people look at me, and I assume they don't look at the nuanced persona I display like I do with them. What kills me even more is it's not as if it is something that you can change about someone.
I know, I'm asking too much of the human race. :)
**Edit**
I forgot to tell you guys about the old African man who approached me at the grocery last month and told me God said he could tell me I was beautiful and that only God would tell him to say that to a woman if she were meant to be his 'Queen'.
Now, I have no idea what this queendom would entail, but I just smiled and nodded as he chatted me up for nearly 20 min. He even told me how he met Halie Barry and didn't say *she* was beautiful, but that I was. Again, I feel so special.
Just Because...
I was bored a few months ago and I have Photoshop.
Plus I think this was the only way to make that dress look good.
Progress, progress, progress.
Hey everyone! I've had my hands in quite a few things these past few days so sorry for the MIA-ness.
One good thing is I started on some of my underthings. Well, I cut out some of them anyway. I got this white poplin a while ago I was going to use for mockups but in taking stock of my underthings situation, I decided to use it to make some breeches. I like to wear breeches when I wear dresses with my garter belt and stockings. They are cool and comfy and keep my thighs from touching. Perfect.
Sew Cornered: Tips for sewing on the pivot
Per the request of one of my lovely followers, I thought I'd offer a little tutorial of sewing a cornered piece of fabric. Oh, the pivoted corner against a gathered stitch, NEVER an easy part to sew. One of the repors I offer has a cornered yoke at the bust and I know that can be difficult.
Here is what I suggest:
This technique relies on paying attention to your seam allowance (SA). It will do a world of good for you to mark your SA ahead of time.
"Hey, what's the blog banner mean?"
These past couple of weeks have been really sluggish for me. I don't know what it is. I have a mild throat congestion that won't go away and it feels like I can't ever clear my throat. My energy has been in the tank no matter what I do or eat or think. Sheesh.
Maybe it's the hot weather. Maybe it's the two really disappointing job prospects that ended (really hoping to get one of those). I'm not sure. All I know is I hate not having initiative, so I looked around my apartment and said I need to do something. Will power! Yesterday I spent the entire day sweeping the cat off the floor, cleaning, putting clothes away and even finished some half done Make and Mend projects. I even made tapioca, although it was a very lame first vegan attempt.
I feel better, kind of. I guess I'm getting to a physical place where I feel gross if I'm not active or doing something. I don't sleep much, 6 hours or so a night. So the rest of the time I fill with projects. I've been drawing a lot more, yay me. I always feel I never draw enough, so me consciously putting pencil to paper keeps me going. I've also realized if I don't eat I get tired. So I'll sauté some veggies and I'm good for another 5 hours. That made me realize I want to put a bit more focus on what's under the hood. Not just body wise, but clothing wise as well.
And the winner is....
Elisabeth!!!!
Thanks for all those who entered the give away!
NVL's new sew along: The Plain Pattern Project
Ah, girlie colors again. I have missed thee.
First off, I would like to thank everyone who participated in my Make and Mend sew along. It was the largest group I've ever had for a sew along, so thank you all immensely. I still have a couple of projects to finish up (the burlap bag included) so stay turned for those.
Now that we have mended some stuff, perhaps we are all in the mood to make some new stuff!?
What's the most you have ever paid for a pattern?
$124
It's a coat and dress. Rare yes, but still, that's an expensive pattern.
Burlap Bag Progress and a Giveaway!
Hi everyone.
I've made progress with my bag. It took a day and some change to ziz zag the burlap to the twill for stabilization.
June Pattern Showcase!!
I know I've been MIA for a few days. This past weekend I got sick and couldn't do half the things I wanted to. Crumbs. But I'm back and aside from working on an illustration, I plan to do some more sewing this weekend to finish out Make and Mend.
Hope people had a good 4th. As for the patterns I acquired in June, here are some.
Burlap Bag Progress
Stout Alteration Tricks: Pick a sleeve based on your boobs.
Well, upper bust.
I know this is going to sound strange, and perhaps I spend way too much time pondering the fit of the bust to arm, but I've been asked a bit about how to pick a sleeve when you are altering a garment, or if you want to change the sleeve on something new that you are making. Here is what I've concluded.
It all is in the boobs.
For me, when I pick a sleeve, I want one that will give me a good range of motion. To determine that, its about the upper bust/arm pit ratio and how much of you actually fills that area. Sure, we all know to adjust this when we are making a garment, but also, if you are adding a different sleeve to a garment, you will also need to take into consideration the armscye with the new sleeve.
That's why some sleeve patterns came with mockup bodice pieces to test the sleeve, which I think was brilliant. Match that up to the bodice of what you want to add the sleeve to and you're golden. But a lot of times that's not the case, and a lot of times if you are adding a sleeve, you don't take this measurements into consideration. I know I didn't. This I'm sure we all know.
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