A place where lazy bloggers can come and feel better about themselves. The rest of you are welcome too.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

A walk in the frou frou


Jules ran away to the South Island today for job interviews. Jules has only been at home from work for a week and a bit but he has a very large (by this I mean loud and messy) presence in the house so once he jumped in the taxi the place seemed horribly quiet and boringly tidy. Remy and I took ourselves off to the park at the end of the street to escape the peace and quiet.

The park is actually a pretty desperate place - the Wellington City Council has a sign up proudly stating that they maintain it... I'm not sure what they mean by maintain, but cutting the grass infrequently does not constitute maintenance in my book...

Remy enjoyed his time there, reading books, playing with toys and watching me blow bubbles across the grass. He loved lying on his back and watching the trees blowing in the breeze. He was completely tuckered out after an hour and had a great sleep when we got home. And we need more of those in this house.

11 days post Christmas and any hope of a diet has gone frou frou up

 


Remember the monstrous, 3.8 kilo Christmas cake? This is all that's left.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Frou frou defined (again)

Over at Damn Good Vintage, Julie the vintage goddesss has a link to a post on Zuberbia about Wabi Sabi; the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection. I love this:
Wabi Sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection. Instead of shunning decay from time, weather, love and age, it celebrates it. And for a vintage fashionista, that means learning to embrace frayed edges, subtle color fading, minor snags and other imperfections.

How wonderful. It also describes how I feel about handmade clothes. I love the little imperfections that somehow hold some of the essence of the person who made them.

Finished frou frou wohoo!

At about 7am on Tuesday 18 December (about 30 minutes before a taxi arrived to take Remy and I to the airport), I finished F and V's clothes for their parents' wedding.

I'm pleased with the results and I'm doubly happy that they're happy!






F's suit was a mix of pleasure and pain. It was great when what I had imagined came alive but, blimey, that cheetah idea was much, much harder to execute than I predicted.

I started with a plan to have a very stylised, art nouveau cheetah standing on its hind legs placed on the right side of the jacket (so the head of the cheetah would be close to the collar of the jacket), with two pockets on the left side (because that's what makes a safari jacket!). At the first fitting, F suggested that the cheetah could be running, and after some discussion, we agreed that a cheetah running around the side of the jacket would be wicked.

I'd not been able to source any cheetah print material (but there are endless supplies of similar-looking leopard print material. I was dealing with an expert though so there could be absolutely no cheating). I'd tried painting my own fabric but it looked ghastly. In the end, the lovely F and V painted the material for me. The results were stunning - I really couldn't have had anything more perfect to work with.

My lovely brother Robbie printed a photo of a running cheetah and then delivered the picture to my house (thanks again Rob!).


I wanted to use the 'freezer paper' applicque technique which I'd never used before but my mum swore it was the best way to go. To start, I traced the outline and some of the major markings around the cheetah's face onto a piece of freezer paper four times (two facing one way and two the other) essentially because I'd had a rush of blood to the brain that involved me thinking four bright yellow cheetahs running around the bottom of the jacket was an inspired idea (it wasn't - it was Far Too Much).



I ironed the cheetahs onto the fabric and cut them out, leaving a wide margin of material around the edges.

Then I tried to turn the edges under and hold them in place with small stitches. This was a blerdy lengthy and frustrating process. There was much cussing and huffing.


After about 6 hours of this, I gave up and decided to place the cheetah directly onto the fabric and use satin stitch around the edges.

My sewing machine being completely useless in such emergencies decided that a vague interupretation of stain stitch would be fine. More effing and blinding later, and I concluded that it looked fine in a creative, crafty sort of way; not at all like the neat, perfectly stitched exotic creature I had imagined but fine nonetheless.




V's dress was quite a different kettle of fish. We found at the first fitting that the bodice was too small. I'd been so optimistic that the bodice was going to be a little big that I'd trimmed all of the seams. There was nothing I could do but remake the bodice. It wasn't such a big deal in the end. I was able to do it pretty quickly but I did have to duck out for more material first (thank goodness it hadn't all sold out!).

My mum suggested the sweetest little detail for the underskirt - using the silver ribbon from my nana (above) around the hem of the underskirt but underneath the top skirt so that it would just peek out as a detail when little V walked. I wish I'd taken photos of it because it worked really well and helped lift the dress from 'basic 1950s little girl's dress' to 'handcrafted and much loved little girl's party dress'.

I pleated a seperate section of the sash around the front of the waist and slipped the big bands of the rest of the sash into the sides of that. I basted the sash onto the dress too so that it wouldn't be a pain for V or her mum by slipping down and needing retying all day.

I'd love to have the chance to make another similar dress one day (never the same dress though - I think about this work like I do art - there will only ever be one). It was pretty simple - especially compared to making a simalar dress for an adult - but it looks absolutely fantastic when on.

All in all, this was a great project. I feel very lucky to have been trusted with this project because it was the first time I'd done something like this and it was for such a special occasion. I've learnt some valuable lessons - not just sewing lessons but business tips too. I know now that I am charging too little for my time and that I haven't really been pricing my clothes properly. I think that I hadn't considered the value in handmade clothes; I think I was only taking into account the practical value of clothing generally (you know, keeps us warm and not naked).

I also need to keep some ideas to myself. I wish now that I had surprised F with the cheetah rather than effectively promising it by talking about it. I think it would have been easier on myself but also it would have given F an even better experience of working with me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'd like to under-promise and over-deliver.

Holloway Road is city-romantic, not frou frou


Jules and I have been living in Holloway Road (in the Aro Valley in Wellington; an artsy, bohemian, inner-city suburb) for just under a year. I've got mixed feelings about this part of town. I spent time here when I was a student - who hasn't? - and have visited on and off after university, mostly to eat at Aro Cafe, a completely divine place to have brunch and chatter.

As a mum though, this place has me on edge most of the time. As a baby-free person, my attitude to some of the rougher diamonds around here was very 'live and let live'. Now, I feel myself tense up anytime anyone gets too close or there is any chance of something untoward happening. None of this was helped by the drunk man who spat at Jules and Remy, or the time Jules and Remy were in the local park and found used needles scattered about.

I grew up in a very isolated part of New Zealand and, while I couldn't wait to get to the city once I'd finished high school, I think that I want Remy to grow up in a less populated place than Wellington.

Now that there is a great possibility that we'll be moving soon, I've become quite nostalgic about Wellington and have started making a few photos essays of places that have meaning for me.

The following are Holloway Road shots that I took the other day while having some time away from my boys.












Wellington: oh so frou frou on a good day

It was a stunning day in Wellington today. What a great way to start the new year. Jules, Remy and I were far too hot at home so we headed out to Kaffe Eis on the waterfront.





There are some lovely new sculptures outside Te Papa. They're all made from number 8 wire and are very popular going by the number of people taking photos of them.


I love you Super Secret Second-hand Shop. You're so delightfully frou frou.

While down south, Remy, mum and I popped to the Super Secret Second-hand Shop. This visit wasn't everything I was expecting. Usually we're the only ones there (the owner usually opens it especially for us - what can I say, we're good customers) and the place is an utter mess with treasures hidden amongst the rubbish.

This time there were four other people there and the owner had had a clean up; NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I did get some precious buttons.

These from the 1920s:


These glass ones from the 1940s:


And these stunning 50s buttons:



I also picked up this 1950s hat that's in perfect condition:


And the most delightful ball of string for tying up presents that are wrapped in brown paper:


I also found 3 metres of vintage fabric:

that I'm going to use in this dress:

with this fabric as the 'bib':


Fun!

Ooo, once we've moved to the South Island, I'll be able to go to the SSSS all the time.