Guess what y’all! I’m the lamest blogger ever! Wooo! The good news, however, is that I’ve been doing some stuff in its place. We’ve got some garden action brewing in the front yard, veggies and flowers both; I’ve been buying fabric like a champ, and even sewing some of it; I have encroached on totally new territory for daydream fodder, because how awesome would it be to have a fabric store stocked with all my favorite things?; and I did actually complete a project in here, somewhere: a fancy sort of gown for a bowling pin for Troika Music Festival’s annual Pin Projekt. And I also watched fourteen episodes of Futurama, twenty-three of The Simpsons, pet Ollie approximately 2,145 times, ate two pizzas, scored a ridiculous deal on tons of polyester horsehair braid, and baked a birthday cake. See? Busy busy busy!

The provenance lies in my lazy searching technique.

So guess what again, y’all! I just sewed the first ever prom dress for a bowling pin! Now that’s probably not at all true, but in looking around for some pin-art inspiration, I found exactly zero occurrences of sewing apparel for the pin. Lots of painting and decoupage with 2-D and 3-D objects, mosaic-style and sculpture style, and I even saw a drum set sprinkled in the results—but no polka dotted prom dresses anywhere. Granted, I looked neither long nor hard for truly representative examples of bowling pin art for auctioning purposes, but I did perform a google search (images too) and checked out flickr. (Although at the Pin Projekt there were two, count ‘em two, other entries with little custom-made clothes for the bowling pin—multiple outfits, in fact. Guess I need something bigger and better to shoot for next time.)

I originally thought it’d be neat to make matching outfits for me and the ‘pin, so that was my initial modus operandi. It more or less came out that way, only in reverse: I used some fabric left over from a blouse I recently finished for dressing the pin. I wore the blouse to the auction and matched the pin (kinda sorta) after all, and it was painfully cute as long as you noticed how nonchalant I was being. Mission Accomplished! And I managed to learn some stuff along the way, which is my REAL modus operandi. Modus operandi modus operandi! I feel all college educated.

I knew I wanted a circle skirt for Ms Pin, probably because I want one for me, too. And I suspected I’d go a little nuts in terms of the details, and let me tell you it’s way easier to draft and sew a prom dress for a bowling pin than it would be for myself. Now that I’ve got my first set of fancy dress training wheels, maybe I’ll feel a little more comfortable jumping in the deep end and sewing up something crazy for myself next time. So I started with the circle skirt; and I made it *way* too long; the pin was on top of an upside-down cup in this picture, which gave it about five inches in height. I not only overestimated how much length* would be required to keep it floor-length while still counting for how far away from the body I wanted it to stand, I underestimated how long the hem’s perimeter** was.
*about half an inch; I made it like three inches too long.
**seven feet! really! it was amazing.

I first thought I might be able to use up some of that length by making the hem do twisty, crazy filigree style loops and curls, which I was going to use a medium-light gauge craft wire to sculpt. I narrow hemmed the skirt and drew the wire through the length of it, so that it was enclosed by the fabric but still very much able to be bent up and twisted. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures because the initial result was not at all what I had in mind, and I wasn’t thinking that it would be nice to document not only what worked (here I was forcing myself to be optimistic) but what didn’t work, too. I accepted my self-imposed necessity to hold off being all doom ‘n’ gloom, but I didn’t really want to photograph my ineptitudes just yet. If only I’d known how nicely it was going to turn out! Live and learn. The wire was too heavy for the lightweight poly chiffon, and it was much more difficult to bend evenly than I’d imagined. I ended up playing around for only an hour or so before I said Forget This; every ripple I bent into the wired hem caused the whole skirt to become unbalanced, and it was markedly challenging (read: totally damn impossible) to perfectly bend the wire to match the perfect draping of a circle skirt. So I took it out and lopped off the three inches that it was too long, and a smidge begrudgingly did a new narrow hem on the length of it. The new, shorter skirt had a hem that was almost a foot shorter: down from 84 inches to a mere 73. Piece of cake! To make it stand out a bit, I made some 1/4″ tape from some polyester crinoline and sewed that along the edge with two lines of stitching.

and then .
Next was the waistband, since I knew I was going to need a waistband. I wanted a tightly gathered look, so I cut out a rectangular piece of fabric about 6.5″ long (narrowest circumference of the bowling pin was 5.75″, plus seam allowances/room for trimming) and about 5″ wide (gathered into a ~1″ band).

I gathered it at the ends, finished with a continuous strip to which I sewed a couple of little snaps, and added two lines of ruching/gathering/uhm, thread so that the waistband itself was divided into three equal chunks of scrunched up goodness.

and .

And then, there were yoyos.

I have already forgotten how many, but it was in the area of twenty. Or maybe 21, since I did use the bottom of a beer bottle as the template. I brought them in to work with me unfinished, and spent an afternoon going back and forth between serial checkin and journal claiming and yoyo stitching. It was awesome. I’ve already decided that the next project I undertake involving yoyos will most certainly find me doing at least some of them in the workplace—I got a much greater sense of accomplishment from having left for home that day with a little baggie full off puffy, polka-dotted fabric treats. It was as good as eating donuts with dinner.

I ended up constructing the “bodice” part of the dress completely out of these yoyos; I stitched it all together, one yoyo at a time, first to the upper edge of the waistband, and eventually to each other. It worked out to be just about right in how it looked, and I even had a few left over that I used to modestly adorn the full skirt. Though I must note: I wanted a cluster of four yoyos and a cluster of two, not three and two. One, ahem, went missing during the early stages of construction.

Whooosh! Ziiip! fling-flang-foom!

That’s about what it feels like in my brain the last couple weeks: I can’t seem to concentrate on any one thing without immediately getting sidetracked. There are some up sides to it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s sort of taxing. I went to the ABC Sale this Saturday past, and found a nice little haul of goodies no doubt in part because I was too overstimulated to get bored and want to go home. Naturally it was worth it because, aside from getting lots of neat things, I love a good yard sale:

Free patterns! a leather satchel for $5! liberty of london silk paisley tie for a quarter! and a funky ultrasuede purse and a vintage-y white sweater and a nice handful of scarves and kid leather gloves, and I spent about $20 all together. Not too shabby—and next year I’ll know to hit the accessories and textiles rooms first. But even afterwards I was too riled up to just go home and have a nice sandwich and relax for a bit: I just wanted to go out and find more little gems in slightly neglected thrift-store-type places. When I get rewarded for knowing stuff (Liberty of London? a quarter?! wooo!) or being in whatever random place I happen to be in or for having exact change, it’s not enough to let it be: I have to expend more energy to keep my good thing going, or something. Sometimes that works wonders; you keep your eyes open and continue to see fantastic things. But it makes me tired and sort of disheartened with how flaky and obsessive I can be all at the same time. What is my solution? I’m taking a big fat week off work.

Equal parts fabric, coffee, paint, squiggley lines, Golden Girls, working on my tan, petting the cat, and cookies.

I have some tenuous goals for next week. I do want to have something (and some things) to show for my nine consecutive days at home, but I’m going to concentrate the most on keeping anything work-related from entering my head. I will focus instead on:

Eating a good breakfast;

the growing springtime around the house;

the best way to drink a pina colada in the hammock without spilling it;

starting and finishing at least one springy, summery article of clothing (probably with polka dots);

Petting ollie the best love girl;

Playing dress up.

I’m also going to try to blog a smidge every day, if for no other reason than I must document vociferously my “no damn way I’m going in to work today” lifestyle—you know, for memories to hold dear when I finally have to go back.

So quick question for anybody out there reading in the internetly ether of ten-fifty-eight on a Tuesday night:

How high is this wedge? What’s your estimation, here?

Amazon says it’s three and a half inches; Zappos says it’s three and three-quarters inches; and both piperlime and shoes-dot-com say that it’s four inches. I think it’s gotta be between 3 3/4″ and 4″ at least, so … is amazon smoking some shwag or what?

The Ides of March has a bad rap for denoting impending doom, or at least imminent discretionary events. But what about the folks who thought Caesar was a jerk? Maybe the IoM took on a celebratory nature in 43 B.C. and thereafter; maybe Brutus cranked out some handmade notecards and invited people over for finger foods and mead. Well, that’s what we’re doing anyway – it’ll coincide nicely with St. Patrick’s Day because Saturday nights are better for light partying than Thursdays.

We’ve planned for some months now to launch Various Pants on the Ides of March, but if ever there was a well founded reasoning behind our chosen date it’s gone to me now. I suspect it was chosen because it’s a good middle-ground date, the 15th, in a month notable for its bringing of the New. Plus it was also six or seven months ago, which at the time was even before the holiday mayhem that blossoms in late November. It’s here now, though, and gentle reader, what shall you expect in the coming days and fortnights? Hopefully you will long for DIYs, covering ground that diverges from building your own compost heap to making your own bias tape. You will wonder about shoes, and whether or not you can pull off mustard-yellow fluevogs if you work in a library. You will increase your maximum braining power by taking our weekly, yes weekly! SmartyPants quizzes. And I haven’t even mentioned the mail art.

2007 is all about being the year of VARIOUS PANTS, and we’re taking the Ides of March for ourselves. No longer shall we tremble at the vision of some soothsayer; we’re fishing around in Caesar’s pot and snatching out March 15, so you don’t have to be afraid anymore.

And Paul Newman, if -nay, when- you read this, we’ve got a great idea for a salad dressing.