Help Me Choose a Costume!
April 24th, 2012
I’ve already revealed that I’m going to do the unthinkable — sing in public. I also have to play the cello briefly during the same program. So of course the question arises, what to wear, WHAT TO WEAR?
The theme of the concert is early 20th-century American music and I initially planned to drag out my Edwardian duds (see the picture at the bottom of this post). But that would require a corset. And I’ve gained five pounds in the last three months (doughnuts and steak). And I already have trouble breathing when I sing.
So…the search begins. Luckily I’ve recently been reunited with a lifetime of costumes rescued from my (ever-patient) mother’s attic. Some fantastic pieces that I should never have used for “dress-up,” a few that should have died long ago, and many just plain goofy get-ups.
This is the current front runner. It’s royal blue velveteen with a back zip and sash and elasticized sleeves. Very comfortable. I have no idea where it came from. It’s built like a costume — and come on, who would wear a floor-length velveteen dress if they weren’t on stage? On the other hand, it’s pretty conservative for theater and has standard care tags as though it were factory made. There’s absolutely no pressure on my abdomen in this dress, and it is more than flexible enough for celloing. The color definitely suits me too, and would lend itself to delicate jewels or pearls.
Here’s dress number two:
It’s a vintage Gunnie Sax formal in pink taffeta, probably from the mid 1980s. Yep, those are fabric roses on each shoulder. I adore this dress and wore it to my thirteenth birthday party (my indulgent parents dressed up like a French maid and butler and threw a “murder-mystery” sleep over with my hamster, Edward Bringhurst IV, as the hapless “victim”). It’s a perfect waltz gown, and also comfortable enough for singing and playing. I’d pair it with some vintage rhinestone jewelry and a large hair-do. The downsides include a skirt that screams for crinoline (which I haven’t got), shoulders that insist on slipping at awkward moments, a rather scanty neckline, and a color that washes me out.
What do you think? Help me choose!
Trying to project Elisabeth Schwarzkopf…
1930s Evening Gown
August 10th, 2011
I want so badly to show you my completed handkerchief, but alas, I must keep it under wraps for a little while longer. In the meanwhile, I dug around in my digital picture files and came up with a gem from all the way back in 2008. Sorry the picture is so small, it’s the only one I’ve got.
I concocted this 1930s evening gown for a benefit party thrown by the Museum where I work. Yes, it’s an 1850s historic house, but sometimes we get bored with the 19th century and break out. Like we did in 2010 with our disco-themed bash… Anyway, in June 2008 we threw a party on the roof of the Central Park Arsenal that we affectionately dubbed “It Happened One Night,” in honor of the 1934 Gable/Colbert feature. The theme of course was the 1930s. The late, great Danny Stiles was our DJ (!!) and the invitation was emblazoned with blue zebra stripes, in honor of that famous hot-spot, El Morocco. It also boasted a series of tiny silhouettes of Fred & Ginger, drawn by yours truly.
Interesting aside about the blue zebra stripes and legendary matching banquettes at El Morocco — rumor has it that they were made in that distinctive shade of cerulean because it showed up better in black-and-white photographs than actual black would have done.
As soon as our theme was selected, I set to work on my dress. I watched a slew of Depression-era films and also located this great illustration from the period.
Because the material I chose (some kind of sheer rayon/poly blend) was so atrociously slippery — especially once I cut it on the bias — I ended up sewing the entire thing by hand. And finishing each ravel-prone seam with overcasting…in both directions. And then I beaded the bodice. Yes, I’m a little tetched.
But I did end up in New York Social Diary (scroll down, down, down…there I am).
Studio (18)54
March 16th, 2011
I hope you’ll excuse this extreme departure from my chosen decade, but I ran across these pictures over the weekend and couldn’t resist sharing.
Last year I helped organize a disco-themed benefit party for the historic house museum where I work, and decided that I simply had to wear something by Halston. Well, at least something inspired by Halston (I usually blow my clothing budget on fabric and notions for 19th-century projects — not vintage evening gowns from the 1970s).
The simplicity of this classic Halston infinity dress piqued my interest. It also seemed reasonably easy to make, which it was, once I figured out that the straps had to be lined and curved…
And here’s the dress I made. Complete with spangly silver costume jewelry, and leather platform sandals. Too bad I never learned to do the Hustle.
Hat in Bloom
January 28th, 2011
What do Princess Ella (the sweetest girl on the Central Coast), Zelma’s tea cozy, D. H. Lawrence, and Katherine Hepburn have in common? They are all responsible for my winter hat this year.
Yes, it does have a pixie-ish top — as Richard Diamond (my favorite radio detective) would say, “bless your little pointed head.”
See, what happened was this. When dear Ella was just a wee thing, I knitted her a baby pixie hat from a pattern that I found online. Ella’s Mammy, Mme. Zelma, was very taken with the little pink pointed chapeau, and jokingly made me promise to make her one too.
Last fall, I was trying to use up yarn from a large stash of acrylics that my grandmother passed along, and managed to crochet a spur-of-the-moment tea cozy. I mailed it Zelma, as my contribution to her legendary salon. She wrote back wondering if I could make a hat to match the cozy (you have to admire a woman whose millinery matches her tea service).
In the process of making said hat, it somehow morphed into a long-overdue adult version of Ella’s hat. It was a misty green, lined with pink and white stripes. But it still lacked quelque chose. So I crocheted a leafy vine with darker green wool and made it grow ’round the hat.
While fitting the hat before sending it off, I realized that the cloche shape suited my face, and suited my new resolve to dress like a character out of D.H. Lawrence (think early 1920s eccentric artist). So I made myself one in grey (also from Gram’s stash). Because the leafy vine took forever to crochet, I decided to decorate mine in tribute to my favorite Katherine Hepburn line: “the calla lilies are in bloom…” Yes, I swear those purple things are calla lilies.
So now you know. Unfortunately, when people stare at me on the street, or stop me to ask about my hat, I don’t have the heart to make them listen to the entire explanation. I’m sorry I wasn’t so kind to you.
And to make matters worse, I have just finished knitting yet another of these hats. It’s a dark Wedgwood-ish blue and only wants a lining and some decorative touches. Then I may give it away (if I can find anyone to appreciate it), or sell it for an exorbitant amount of money. Interested?
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