Pixie Prototype
October 9th, 2012
Last year, in the midst of a D.H. Lawrence kick, I knitted myself a grey pixie hat. For some inexplicable reason, I attributed a portion of my inspiration to Women in Love. Go figure.
So many people have asked me where I got my hat, that I finally decided I should try to make some and offer them for sale. Knitting is too time-consuming, so I made a felt version. It’s still mostly hand-sewn, but I can make one in a matter of hours instead of weeks.
Since felt is less forgiving of differently shaped heads, I graded my pattern into three sizes: Small (child), Medium (average woman), Large (average man). And of course, I’m decorating them with felt flowers.
Hair Receiver
October 8th, 2012
Our new bungalow boast two full bathrooms. Naturally I’ve decorated mine with pink flowers, green leaves, purple towels, an astonishing assortment of vintage and antique dresser jars, perfume bottles, and a truly horrifying clock surrounded by pink ceramic doves.
Nestled amidst the carefully scattered clutter is this pretty porcelain piece that I’m using as a hair receiver.
It’s late 19th-century — a childhood gift from my godmother’s best friend, who was an antique dealer. And it’s not actually a hair receiver. If it was, it would have a little hole in the center of the lid through which to poke the hair and swirl it into the forming rat.
In case you’re reading this and wondering, what on earth is she talking about, or if you’re just thinking “ew, that’s gross,” I’ll share a little background. In the 19th century, frequent, vigorous brushings were a good way to keep your hair clean between occasional washings. Brushing spreads oil from the roots, where it seeps out of your scalp, down to nourish and protect fragile ends. It also pulls out weak or damaged strands so that new, healthy hair can grown in. Women saved those pulled out hairs and used them to make the rats and pads required for many 19th-century hairstyles — their ears didn’t stick out that much without a little help!
I’ve made four or five rats since my hair grew out. It takes months of brushing to get enough hair together. On a side note, I recently found a strand of my own hair on my desk and decided to measure it (it was a slow evening). Thirty-one and a half inches — nearly a yard long! And, to my great delight, the California sun has exaggerated enough blond and red highlights to eliminate the mousy brown I’d developed after years of dreary NY winters.
Burn Her Bustle
September 21st, 2012
Remember when I savagely attacked my mourning bonnet? I’ve been at it again, this time with a bustle. I made it in a blind rush, with no pattern or research, just two days before debuting a rather loosely historical 1870s ballgown at a dinner party based on Edith Wharton’s Age of Innocence.
Realizing that I didn’t care if I ever saw the wretched thing again, I decided to chuck it. But not before rescuing the high-quality hoop steel (I splurged at Farthingales that year).
In case you were curious, here’s the completed dress in a variety of settings, namely India House, Delmonico’s Restaurant (by which time I’d lowered the gathering on the skirt to drape better over the bustle), and the garden of the Merchant’s House Museum. I’ve also worn it to McSorely’s Old Ale House, but I don’t care to share those pictures.
I wonder why it was so much less puffy here…
Drowning in Thread
September 20th, 2012
I think I mentioned recently that I’ve been cleaning and sorting out my studio; tackling the gargantuan task of integrating my own stash with tools and materials from a number of other sources, including my mother’s attic (stash overflow from the past decade or so), my grandmother’s sewing/weaving/spinning/knitting room, and from a number of dear friends who have been kind enough to bestow a variety of irresistible goodies upon me.
Here, for example, is a wooden expanding (in more ways than one) box of embroidery threads.
The darling box was a gift from a lovely friend and neighbor, and it came filled with quite a few skeins of stranded cotton floss and perle. To this I added my own carded floss, skeined ombre floss, and silk thread packets. There’s also a little box of antique metallic threads (another gift) and a nearly full box of white floss for broderie anglaise. Then I put in my grandmother’s embroidery thread, both cotton and silk. And a batch from yet another friend. You don’t see them in this picture, but I’ve since added a handful of silk needlepoint thread skeins. And then there’s my whole supply of coton a broder that has yet to turn up…
Unwatchable Jane Eyre
September 17th, 2012
Remember a while back when I raved about Zeffirelli’s film of Jane Eyre? I mentioned at the time that I had requested the 2011 film by Cary Fukunaga from the library and was eagerly awaiting its arrival. Well it came, and I set out to watch it, with a surprisingly willing husband in tow.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Fantastic, meticulously accurate costumes? Ramped up sexual overtones? A well-developed St. John character? At least the latter seemed a reasonable hope, considering that the actor playing St. John received a co-star’s billing.
Alas, whatever else the film had to offer, its sadly stilted dialogue (a fault that seems to plague most historical literary dramas of recent years, case in point, the most recent Pride and Prejudice fiasco) and jerky scene-shifting made it utterly impossible to watch. We turned it off about a third of the way through and could never bring ourselves to try again.
For the record, I actually liked the costumes, but only from an aesthetic point of view. They captured the edginess of the 1840s, but more in spirit than historical or literary accuracy.
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