Doublet Update/Pictures!

It all came together in the end. I'm not entirely satisfied with the results, but I'm content with the fact that I can rework the pieces later and make they better. So I leave you with some photos I have snitched from Facebook from the entire three weekends of the Washington Misdummer Renaissance Faire.

I just might be the Lunatic you're looking for?

I have problems. Everybody does. The thing is that most people, myself included, go about our days ignoring our problems or denying they even exist.

Part of me really misses living in a household where we all have problems, but no one really said anything about mine. They went seen but unspoken. It led to crappy self-esteem and one hell of an act. I can make the people I love believe that I'm okay. That I don't hate myself anymore. Hell, I've lied to my therapist. The thing that bothers me is when people see it and say something about it. Put my problems in my face. Reflect back to me exactly what I loathe and spend most of my time wishing fervently would just up and disappear. That's the funny thing about problems, they don't just melt away like ice cream left out on the counter. They can sit there and be medicated into submission or hibernation, or they can be gouged out and vehemently killed.

I desperately want to sit with a therapist for perhaps a month of sessions and come away magically cured. I want to ignore the fact that the world doesn't work that way, and I must come to grips with that fact.

People used to tell me all the time; "You're such an amazing person! Never change!" and I would wonder why anyone would think that. I'm an actor. You hide what is ugly with smoke and mirrors so you only show what people perceive to be lovely and admirable. People have also told me, through tears, that they wished they could be more like me, or be me. I also can't understand why anyone would want my life or my psyche. I have more problems, idiosyncrasies than the Eiffel Tower has bolts, or something equally applicable. The frustrating part is that I'm not changing as fast or as much as I would ideally like because I keep hiding. I hate being exposed because I have problems. I have problems because of my childhood. The wheel turns on and on but I go no where.

Why did all this come up suddenly? Because I was thinking about all the little lies and acts my amazing fiancee sees through. It's like he has The Sight and can see into my Faerie land, only he can see what is real and what is glamour. I don't feel worthy of his love, but I am so very grateful for all of it. For the sweetness and the silliness. For his serious moments, and his tenderness.

Happy Weekend!

Well, the Doublet got good praise all round, with minor comments from our darling master sewer, Cindy. It works, and I can do better next time, but this one is mostly a success.

A few more pictures . . .

The Ensemble: part one

Since I now have actual slops, I'm going to refer to the whole shebang as The Ensemble from now on, (provided I remember that).
The Doublet is all but finished, it needs a button band extension and then ten shiney pewter buttons and it's ready to roll for Faire.
The Slops (baggy pants) are giving me grief. They require Cartridge Pleating (TECHNIQUE HERE) which I am more than prepared to learn, it seems a handy skill for my line of work. I just skimmed over the part where they say to practice the pleats on scrap fabric so you a) know how to do it, and b) know how it will work with your fabric. Me, being me, plunged headlong into the fray and dealt with the repercussions later. Meaning I did up a whole waist band, pleated it, and found my stitches were too wide. Snappeth.

Today, I will take my time and more care and make those darn cartridge pleats behave! :) Pictures later . . .

The Doublet - Part Three

Saturday, Nate and I ran all over looking for black or grey wool suiting from which to make the "real" doublet.  We ended up going to Shoreline's JoAnn Fabric and rejoicing for they had both black AND grey suiting!  Six yards of wool later and four yards of cherry red piping we headed home and collapsed.
Monday I cut out all the pieces from muslin for lining and the grey for the main doublet.  Yesterday I sewed and sewed, ironed, pinned and sewed some more and I had a doublet.  Mostly.
The fronts were an inch off length-wise, and the back seam was total crap.  Not wanting to make more mistakes, I set it aside and knitted.

This morning I took a seam ripper to the whole thing, ripped back to where I sewed on the tabs and put it back, but within the seam allowance this time. . . now it's just a matter of making up the sleeves and hand stitching along the seams for more structure to the garment.

It's really frustrating because I want to do a perfect job, and I'm doing a good job. The last version came out perfect and perhaps I am a little arrogant in thinking this one will turn out with the same perfection when I've changed materials. So I make progress, it's only going to be so good and all I can do is try my best.

The Doublet - Part Two

When I last reported in, I only had a muslin mock up. Now I have nearly a fully completed doublet. The only sad part is that this isn't the one he's going to be wearing! It's practice, mostly.

First off, I traced the corrected muslin onto some heavy paper-stock so I could have a new pattern to work from.

Then I made a new muslin from the corrected ("new") pattern. . . spent the weekend knitting, and didn't fit it until Monday night.  It worked beautifully!

Cut out the fabric - $2.50 from Goodwill I might add!

Before I could sew the lining (the corrected muslin) in entirely, the pattern needed me to make up the tabs that go along the waistline.  So I blithely stitched along not realising I had sewn them backwards.  Luckily I only had seven to rip out and re-sew as opposed to another doublet pattern which calls for several hundred little tabs.  Re-stitched, turned right side out, and ironed within an inch of their scrawny little lives, the tabs were ready.

I pinned them on, to make sure that the unadjusted tabs would still encircle my adjusted waistline, and they did absolutely perfectly.  I sure lucked out this time!

With the tabs sewn securely to the body, I was then able to stitch the lining along that lower edge and turn the whole deal right side out again, pulling it through an armhole.  I ironed it so all the seams laid the correct way and it was smooth and nice for the arms to be stitched in later.  I also stay stitched (a line of stitches to keep things in place) around the arm holes to keep the lining and fabric in the correct place.

Yummy perfectly lined up seams.  This is the first time everything has fallen perfectly into place in a sewing project and I couldn't be more chuffed about it all.  I am hoping the second one goes just as smoothly. * crosses fingers *

Yesterday I got the sleeves put together (after A LOT of fiddling to figure out which side goes where to make it all pretty once I flip it right side out! oy.) and the wings.  Those are the crescent shaped do-hickies you see in the above picture.  They sit on top of the sleeves and are tucked on top of the shoulder.  Kind of like epaulets, but Tudor style.  I would have finished pictures to show you, but I was happily "borrowed" by my brother and don't regret it.  The day was fun.

TO-day however, it's nose to the sewing machine and I'm going to have finished photos tonight!  And maybe still have time for fabric hunting.  There is an upholstery shop not far from my house and I want to scope out what their prices are like.  Three weeks till Faire, people! :)

The Hope Project

I haven't written about this idea before, so don't worry if it suddenly sounds new to you. :) It's been percolating in the back of my mind and on my heart a lot lately. Since I spend the bulk of my time alone all day, there is a lot of time to think, and sometimes that thinking isn't terribly productive. It's often revealing of what's on my heart though, and this is how Project Hope was born.

Last October I lost my first baby and it was traumatic, horrible, and scary. I have hoped for so very very long to finally have a child, and here I was, loosing that which I desired above all else. I did what any self-respecting student of Elizabeth Zimmerman would do and knitted. I made a little tiny hat for someone who would never wear it. I wrapped it in tissue paper, stuffed it into a box and tried to forget how much it hurt. Here I am, ten months and twenty days later, still knitting. I am drawn to baby projects, I admit it. I want to knit tiny baby things to soothe myself. At first I considered this idea idiotic, why knit baby things for a baby you don't have? What not knit baby things for other people's babies? I do sometimes, but it's always with the knowledge that I still don't have one. My baby hat is still empty, my heart still has a baby shaped hole in it, waiting for that beautiful day when I can finally hold my child in my arms.

Then I caved. I made booties. Tiny, perfect, little baby booties for feet that aren't here yet. These languished for a while on my crafting table waiting for a time when I'd finally put buttons on them. Yesterday I did just that. I tucked away all the little yarny ends, I sewed buttons on them, I took the obligatory knitting-blog photos and something in my heart changed. Project Hope was born. I don't want to be bitter (It'll never happen), or scared (What if I loose another one?), I want to knit on with confidence and hope, through all crises, until I reach the day where I can pull out the bonnet and put it over a little head, until the day when I can tuck tiny baby toes into handmade booties. I want to hope for that day, and in so wanting, I allowed myself to knit. I permit myself to knit things for my babies to come because it's theraputic for my soul. Other things for other babies will be made, but there will also be extra special things just for my babies, to be tucked away in the box labeled Hope.

The Doublet - Part One

Almost a year ago, my honey asked if I would help him make a doublet for Ren Faire. I, of course, said yes thinking it would be good to practice sewing something considerably more difficult than little bags and things. December 2009 I cut out most of the pattern pieces in two different sizes in hopes of fitting my honey. Fast forward to this spring when I dug out the languishing pieces to study more closely. The pattern is by Period Patterns, and while it's super historically accurate, it's also super difficult to understand. There are 14 different options in one packet, historical notes, and no concise directions. My pattern directions go something like this; 1. Follow 1,2, &4 from View I. 2. Follow 14 & 17 from view V. etc. I tried writing them all down in order, marking them as I need, but have given up and just popped from one direction to another.

This is certainly the most time consuming project I've undertaken. Today alone I spent two hours cutting out and piecing together the muslin mock-up. Then another two hours with my honey pinning and cutting away material until it a) fit him and b) could provide the amount of movement he's going to need in his Faire endeavors, mainly lots of upper body movement so he can sword fight and march about with pikes. While this is all just a tad frustrating, it's also very educational and fun. I'm going to end up with not only a lot of knowledge, but a good piece for my portfolio.

Etsy Love

It's fascinating what you can find on Etsy if you search for "bustle". Everything from historic steel boned bustles to the more Steampunky ones that are work outside your skirt. . . or they are your skirt! These caught my eye and I thought I'd share.

Featured Shops:
Boudoir Noir
Crescent Wench
Petey the Troll Apparel

Busy little bee. . .

"Olive's Afghan from Knitalong"

I don't remember when I began this project, but it was a while ago. Perhaps spring of '07? Something like that. An utterly darling and pretentious project for myself at the time because it was huge. It's an afghan. They are enormous and intimidating, only this was was clever. It's divided into easy-to-cart-about panels in two colours, and then stitched together to form a dazzling array of colourful chevrons, only updated from the mustard yellows and avocados of the 50's when chevron afghans were quite popular. It has been a journey of colour experimentation. This will reflect what colours I truly edge towards and really love. Purple, Green, and Grey first and foremost, followed by Blue, Yellow, and Orange. No red, no pink, no pastels, just rich saturate colour.

"Mostly Skully adapted from S&B handbook"

Um. Cookies!

Happy Father's Day

Keep it Simple. . .

Elizabeth Zimmerman used to sign most of her knitting newsletters with this sweet and oh-so-wise bit of advice: "Knit on, with confidence and hope, through all crises." This wee phrase has stuck with me for a long time and it proves true time and time again. Like yesterday.

I find myself with such a huge amount of time on my hands I've forgotten how to use it all in an effective manner. I'm also looking for a new job, so that takes priority. I hope on the computer first thing, cup of coffee in hand, and troll the interwebs for employment to get me through to September when school starts and I have a work-study position. Once I've applied for at least one job a day, I am allowed to spend the rest of my time as I please. Yesterday was a disaster, to say the least. I was forcing myself to work on a project for which I had no gumption to do much more with. As an artist sometimes you have to force yourself to finish something, but this was supposed to be for the pure pleasure of crafting and there wasn't any joy in it. Wisely, I abandoned it before I got to sewing and frustrated, cleaned up the apartment a bit, sat down and knitted. I watched two movies while my fingers flew and the tension in my body eased. My knitting tension was just fine, in case you're wondering. ;)

The day ended well, with dinner of delicious grilled salmon and lots of snuggles from my honey. Today I begin with what I learned yesterday in mind, take it easy, keep things in perspective, and go for walks. Simple!

The Dreaded Doldrums. . .

Sometimes I get a crafting "blah". I believe this happens from having too many projects on the plate at any one time, and sometimes a full crafty plate in addition to a full emotional/every day plate. This is the reason for my blah at the moment. I have SO much in my little apartment, SO much in my head, and a lot on my heart it causes me to graze aimlessly from project to project and get frustrated at the minimal production I end up with. So I take a "brain-break" by going for a walk to the art store, the park, just around the block even to clear my head. Usually that does the trick and I can dive, refreshed, back into what I was doing. Right now I feel flat, like soda that has lost it's bubbles and is without that initial zing. I feel listless, like those stick summer nights before the cool breeze comes where all you can do is sit before the fan and moan softly to yourself. That's it! I'm in the mental doldrums. Oh dear.

Julia Cameron would have a solution to this problem. She's snarky like that, as well as being a sort of therapist for artists. (She wrote The Artist's Way, btw) She would probably tell me to go on an artist's date and stop dreading this last week with my job. That's the other thing that's getting to me. I have one more week left with my current job and nothing else has (YET!) fallen into place. Something will, because I'm looking, it's just the waiting until then that gets to a person. The nail biting and floor treading that occurs just before the utter relief of knowing you'll be okay for a while longer.

It's not as if I haven't anything else to go on. If I don't (and it's highly unlikely) get anything I can make things and sell them until school starts. This is the very bohemian answer to my current problem, it's not necessarily practical, but it's optimistic, and one way to beat doldrums is optimism! Or at least that's what I'm shooting for. So now it's off to a cup of tea, and something crafty to comfort me until I have to face my final work week.

Etsy Update: Earrings!!

Not all of these are in my shop, but stay tuned as they trickle in during the next few days! Also, any helpful hints for writing copy? I feel that mine is always cheesy. :)-->> SHOP

Status Quo

One would think, in this day and age that old stereotypes wouldn't prevail quite as much. For example, women can't do everything that men can. I work for a coffee shop and deal with every kind of person imaginable. Snotty business folk right down to homeless old men who crap in their pants in my store. Every colour in the human rainbow.
Because of the liquor store nearby, we get lots and lots of people who just ask for a cup of ice. As long as they don't cause trouble, yell, swear, or mess up my store, I don't have much problem acquiescing to their request. I don't like giving them ice because I know they're just going to drink for what ever reason they need to, but I do deal legal addictive stimulants, so cut me a little slack.
Then there are people who come in looking for a fight. They're having a bad day and they just need some poor bastard to yell at, or someone's store to thrash a little before security is called and they are kicked out. Take the guys who came in today for example. Carlos and his buddy, whom we can call Bob. Both are men of African American descent, and while skin colour doesn't matter one whit to me, they took offense when asked to leave by white girls.
It is in times like this where I wish I had one big burly bouncer sitting in my back room that I could ask to come out and settle matters. Truth is, I really don't. It's just us. My work has security, but it's comprised of older men who I have no doubt know what they're doing, but they are comfortable in what is mainly a desk job.
It's up to me and my co-workers to settle most matters in my store. We are the ones who quietly ask folks to leave, to stop swearing, to stop yelling, to stop being disruptive. Why are we the ones who have to take the slack so the suits can have their stupid cup of morning joe without any goundlings to bother them? Do any of them know the shit we take? Not many.
I just had to rant a little and express my admiration for my female co-worker who went out today and told two large black men they needed to leave. Who took their subsequent mouthing with a serene countenance and much grace. Who I am very grateful to call my friend.

Time with my Mama (Hi Mama!)

Nearly every Wednesday night I head over to visit my parents and brothers. Sometimes it's all four of them, and I have to dole out my company carefully while other times it just me and my Mama getting to catch up and gab for a while. This week it was spent pouring through a veritable treasure trove of books sent up to us for pleasure and safe keeping. These tomes traveled all the way from Lake Tahoe and were such a lovely surprise. Reading books from 1900, Autograph book from 1880, a much abused math book from 1912 gave my mother and I such pleasure to read over. We would read the best bits aloud to each other, amidst commenting on curious little notions from the different Cyclopeadias, school child scrawlings and treasured signatures from old friends.


This was my favourite.

And then I was blithely commandeered by this young fellow to help with his new "Smoke Bombs" for his on-going project of his Zombie Movie. I assure you (Mom and Dad) nothing actually exploded, but things were rather smoky and loads of fun. It's such a pleasure being a part of the young lives of my brothers. Both boys are becoming young men so rapidly, it's sometimes difficult for me to keep up with what new activities they are doing. Evan is writing scripts and making movies while Levi writes story snippets and bangs out metal marvels on the backyard forge. I am so honored to call myself their sister.

The MAC Sweater, part 2

Several years ago now, I had grand delusions of knitting up a sweater version of a British Lieutenants jacket circa 1805-ish. It was in the throes of my Master and Commander phase before I really knew what I was doing in terms of designing my own sweaters. Five years later (if not more) I found myself with an okay little sweater, sorely lacking the original vision. I didn't want to rip it back for the millionth time and let it languish for several years more. It wasn't until today, when I was rummaging through my things that I picked it up with notions of just sewing on the buttons to see if that would help. This led to picking up a decorative band along the button edge. It didn't work, and I set to crocheting a picot edging all round, and picking up for cuffs with picot edge. It's turned out decidedly darling with a steampunky feel now and I haven't taken it off since I finished tucking away all the little yarn ends. So finally, the MAC sweater has found it's happy medium and will most likely be worn frequently. Hurrah!

One Week Ago:
Yesterday marked the first day of having to take medication to treat my depression. As much as I think I'm on the right path and it's the best treatment for me right now, I hate it. I don't want to be sick, yet I am. I don't want to cry because I hurt inside, yet I do. It comes and goes, but when it's here, my black dog gnaws at me and disrupts my regular life and it's time to stop that.
I wake up feeling like I'm in a fish bowl and I go to sleep knowing I will get no rest. Ways to end my life pervade the corners of my mind while I go about my daily routine.
Before you begin to worry too much, let me say that I don't want to die before God calls me home. I have too much to live for. I have promised myself and my fiance that I won't hurt myself any more, I won't cut my hair, I will eat my meals, and I will get help. So I'm taking medication.

It's making me a little groggy, but I'm doing okay. In three weeks I go back for an evaluation to see if this is the right treatment for me. Until then I'm slipping from one day to the next, an insomniac for the most part who is exhausted but cannot find much rest.
If you have a spare moment, pray that I can find a way around this and that I can achieve healing in the end of this journey.

Today marks the day where I up my medication, and rather than keep the negative attitude about it (groaning to myself each time I look at that little pill in my palm) I've come up with a little mantra. "You don't have to take this forever. Just for now, just until you're better." So I want to work harder at fixing this sweet silly self of mine and get to the feeling better part. Soon.

Have you met FrankenBlankie?

So several years back, I discovered I had a plethora of little squares, rectangles, and knitted scraps. As a knitter you cannot throw away this evidence of beginning projects, or bad early knitting. You save it, in that box of shame you keep under the bed. One of those days where you pull out said box and dig through the memories, I had the idea of sewing all these little scrappy bits together. Why not? It would give them purpose and, rather like quilts, keep the story of each scrap out for plain view. For the first incarnation of this blanket I only ended up with one little not-quite-lap-blanket-square. Later another square that created a lap blanket sized piece, but never quite enough for a blanket-ey thing. Until lately. I am working on an afghan (Olive's Afghan from knitalong)and subsequently changed my colour scheme and was left with one slightly awkward pink and chocolate brown bias-knit strip. This was quickly assimilated into the scrap blanket and Franken Blankie was born.
I'll add more to it as more scraps show up, but for now I'm really enjoying looking at the history in stitches as it keeps me warm whilst I read in bed.