Who goes there? Please leave comments so (An Aries Knows)!
Meanwhile, Marika seems to want me to sew again. Look what she sent!
In the early 1990s, I finished some very significant things that taught me that I really can do it. But I backslide now and then, so I’m sympathetic to non-finishers–like Jandy in A Coventry Wedding, who isn’t an Aries but does share my affliction.
Sometime in the mid-nineties, when I finally unpacked and counted my dolls, I decided it would be a really Great Idea if they got all new clothes, especially since so many of them came to me naked from other people. To this end, I enlisted Lynne, who sews and is a longtime craft buddy. She doesn’t like to lay out patterns and and cut fabric, however, so once I found some patterns and chose a couple of dresses, I did that part. And then I got distracted Lynne came up with some crazy notion like, Why don’t we sew together, so I can teach you, then you’ll get twice the doll clothes!
I screamed on the inside, then for fifteenish years, those cut pieces got moved from one bin to another as I needed fabrics for other projects that didn’t involve sewing. Now and then I’d look at them and shudder, because I DON’T SEW. The patterns got wrinkled and torn. The fabric started looking like something Greg’s cat might have thrown up.
A few days ago, in some kind of ridiculous organizational frenzy, no doubt brought on by sleep deprivation, I was consolidating fabrics and doll stuff. Even though, okay, I do sew now, I had NO INTENTION OF DOING SO, at least not until August, when Project Runway resumes. I have other stuff going on, like writing and watching the drought destroy my yard.
Then I saw them again, those poor battered fabrics clinging by a few remaining straight pins to the pattern pieces.
I should just throw that stuff away, I thought. I can put the patterns back in their envelopes. Then I won’t be forever taunted by something else I didn’t finish.
A funny thing happened on the way to the trash…
Hope springs eternal for that half-finished cross-stitch project that’s been in the back of my closet since 1993.
Early in June, Mark G. Harris did a post about the late designer Edith Head and her book How to Dress for Success. Included in his post was one of Miss Head’s sketches from her book:
As soon as I saw it, I began my top secret Edith Head Project: to design and sew my versions of the outfits pictured on Miss Head’s models. Lynne said it was an ambitious project, and she was right. And even though it has taken a lot of my time over the past couple of weeks, I’ve learned several things.
*I CAN follow directions when I sew. It still doesn’t always turn out the way I hoped, but I enjoy the challenge.
*The EH Project reinforced my enjoyment of using my blend of my mother’s sewing supplies and my own. It provided a happy means of thinking of her while I worked during this month that marked the first anniversary of her death.
*One night when I was buying small amounts of three trims at the fabric store, the associate asked what I was using them for. I said, “Doll clothes. Barbie doll clothes.” She asked if I was sewing the clothes for an exhibit or for a special little girl. I said, “A special little girl. ME!” That began a lovely conversation in which she told me that she learned to sew as a child by making clothes for her Barbies. A happy gleam in her eyes made me think she might intend to pick up that childhood hobby again.
*When I sew, I work out all kinds of problems in my head. I’ve come up with so many ideas for characters I want to write that sewing has now become synonymous with research to me.
*In the book Marika sent me–11,002 Things To Be Miserable About–one of the items is “adults with doll collections.” When I ruefully repeated that to Lindsey, she said, “It’s not a collection. It’s an OBSESSION.” And somehow, that made it better.
Scoff if you must, but I say a life without obsessions is a life unlived.
Here’s the finished Edith Head Project. For a look at all the designs with comments, I made a public Flickr group. Enjoy!
Thanks to Tom, Tim, Lynne, Lindsey, Rhonda, Marika, and a bunch of dogs, all of whom supported the Edith Head Project in a variety of ways.
I don’t want to belabor this, but back in 2007, when I first met David Puterbaugh, he was near-cocktailed out of his mind. Since he knew full well I’d wanted to meet him sober, he asked what he could do to get back in my good graces. I pointed ceilingward and said, “You must get that for me.”
No, it wasn’t a palmetto bug, even though I always say it’s not a true Southern story of the coast until that flying cockroach makes an appearance. (Which it did, but that was later.) No, what I was seeking was this:
Last September, I posted about how I mislaid all the notes I’d made for a third Coventry book. It wasn’t so much plot details that I was frustrated to lose, it was all my character names and descriptions. Ultimately, I got the proposal together so I could submit it to my agent and publisher. My editor turned it down–blah blah blah–I’m over that.
I’d started writing a non-Coventry novel on my desktop, for which I made copious notes about place names and details and people names and descriptions in a document that lived on my laptop. I’ve gotten to a point where I need those notes–and THERE’S NO SUCH DOCUMENT! I’ve done electronic searches on both computers using key words and phrases–but in the wee hours of the morning, I had to accept it. Somehow, I managed to delete it.
Unless–CONFESS! Which one of you is gaslighting me?
To relax myself so some of those lost details could crawl to shore from my brain swamp, I dragged out a 1964 Simplicity pattern and made Christina Aguilera a new dress. Her name isn’t going to stay Christina Aguilera. Do you think she looks like a very special TV character named Blossom? Tom does. From certain angles, she also looks like Sarah Jessica Parker. No way am I naming her Blossom, but I could name her Jess after a character in Three Fortunes in One Cookie (female, though she was named for my by-choice-nephew Jess), or I could name her Sarah for SJP and my niece, although my niece is way prettier than this doll–and prettier than SJP, for that matter.
Or I could pretend I’m Janet Evanovich, only instead of letting y’all compete to name my next book, you can name my doll with a prize to be determined. Maybe I could name a character after YOU in my next book.
Um…what was your name again?
Current Photo Friday theme: High Speed
Sad Note: I’ve had my tripod since 1979. I was remarking Tuesday night about how durable it has proved to be. Tonight, it broke–irreparably–while I was shooting this photo. Fortunately, there appears to be no damage to my camera. Goodbye, old tripod, and thanks for being with me for Lynne’s and my Canons, two video cameras, my Kodak point-and shoot, and Lindsey’s and my Nikons.
Those of you who’ve been reading here for any length of time know about the plastic lime slice coasters that Tom and I received as a wedding gift and passed back and forth with Lynne for years–then Lynne’s daughter-in-law Laura got thrown into the mix. (I don’t mean we passed Laura back and forth. I mean sometimes, Laura got the coasters, too.) Eventually I upped the shock value by adding such items as lime slice candles, glasses, and melon and lemon slice coasters–and it was on. Lynne and Laura have been gifting me in kind for about five years now.
Last Christmas, Lynne stunned delighted me with a set of fruit slice dishes. Actually, they were kind of cool, though I didn’t want to admit it. I just don’t have room for more dishes. My dilemma was solved when I realized that Marika loved the dishes. With Lynne’s okay, I regifted them, taking them to Marika when Tim and I went to New Orleans.
I got the BEST thank-you card from Marika. I’ve included it on the upper left of the picture below. It’s all lime-slicey and glittery. I love the chick on the card, and I actually plan to frame this and hang it in my office. There’s a margarita recipe inside the card, and that’s how I chose the name for my most recent addition to The Compound Mattel Top Models, who’s pictured wearing a new dress I made just for her. She’s the Summer doll with the green streaks in her hair. I’m calling her Rita for the margarita card, as well as for Rita Hayworth, who I think was one of the most gorgeous actresses to ever pass through Hollywood–and if that’s not enough, Rita is a character in a Beatles song.
If you comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, lovely Rita will find something in this book for you to be happy about.
When I realized that Mark G. Harris wasn’t going to be able to attend the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival this year, I wanted to find a way to include him in the goings-on. Besides the fact that he wouldn’t be able to read his beautiful short story “Love Taps” from Fool For Love or enjoy the many informative panels, master classes, and readings, he’d be missing out on the social aspect of the festival. There’s something electrifying about getting so many creative people together in one place. Not only can you reconnect with old friends and fellow writers, but you never know who you’ll meet and how that will inspire you. In fact, it was Timothy’s and my chance meeting with Mark at the festival in 2006 that led to his writing “Love Taps.” And led to his creating his LiveJournal account. And led to a wealth of new friendships–those Mark has found or who have found him, as well as the ones he’s brought to me and to others.
There were going to be far better photographers than I at the festival–many of them Mark’s and my mutual friends. So I knew I couldn’t dazzle him with my mad camera skillz. (And good heavens, if any of you haven’t seen this photo taken by Dan, check it out. It’s proof that hundreds of people can shoot the same scene, but a truly gifted photographer makes it his own.)
There is another passion Mark and I share outside of writing. With the help of a 1972 McCall’s pattern, carefully selected mod fabrics, seven enthusiastic models, and our friends, I offer Mark my unique experience of this year’s festival.
There isn’t much I can do when I’m in the grip of a days-long migraine. I try to maintain, but all I really want to do is take medication and sleep in a dark, cool room. I can read a little bit. I can’t focus enough to write. I try to cook for The Compound. I get a lot of doggie nuzzling; it makes me feel better.
And over the past few days, I used tiny increments of time to sew, because I’ve found that I think a lot about writing when I sew. Even if I can’t write, I can plan things. I got these Barbies–I don’t know who they are or what recent year they’re from–with a group of dolls I purchased from eBay some time back. [ETA: Thanks to Mark, I now know they are Hip 2 Be Square Barbies from 2000.] I love their red hair, and my first thought was how good it would look against a green plaid fabric I’ve had for a long time. I made these overall shorts and the yellow blouse using a 1993 McCall’s pattern.
I’m kind of bummed that Mark G. Harris won’t be able to make it to Saints and Sinners this year. After I finished the first outfit, I decided to make the red plaid shift from a 1991 Simplicity pattern–just so I could feature these fantastic shoes that MGH sent me last fall. Aren’t they amazing?
Hmmm. I think I need to dust when I’m feeling better.