Tag Archives: self drafted

The Red-y For Thirty Dress

Oh boy, thirty years. That just happened. #thirty

I don’t know that I had any special feelings about thirty. I mean, it’s a liminal point in many lives, I suppose, and I certainly viewed its approach with a certain amount of bemused trepidation, trying to figure out if I feared thirty, or just felt like I was supposed to. And had I done enough in my first thirty years on earth? I asked what’s-his-face but he said that I hadn’t done as much as the guys who created Snapchat so probably not. Thanks, guy. Super glad we got married three times. #couplegoals

So I had to, gasp, evaluate my own existence on my own, without aid. Ugh. So I thought about the things I have done, and the things I haven’t done, and all the ways I would like to make the world better, and all the things I’m lucky to have had and experienced, and then the list became too long and my head was spinning and I decided that perhaps, just perhaps, thirty years is just that, all that, and only that. Yes, I did not make snapchat. In fact, I do not actually know how snapchat works even though my friend Ben explained it to me in the Brooklyn Museum one time. #millennials

Here are six other things I didn’t do by my 30th birthday:

  1. I have yet to figure out what to do with my hair. I don’t have a hair dryer. I don’t know how they work. I mean, I understand the mechanics because I get how basic electronics function, but the closest I’ve come is using a rickshaw on the highway as a wind-tunnel cum hair dryer. #class
  2. I have never backpacked through Europe. Or Southeast Asia. Or anywhere. I do not own a large backpack. I own a small one that whats-his-face made me buy and I hate wearing it because I feel like I look like a 7-year-old. #backpack
  3. I have never seen the wire. I am not going to see the wire. Stop telling me I need to see the wire. Oh, and I don’t like Tarantino films, and that’s not because I don’t “get them”, I get them. I don’t like them. That is a fair and legitimate thing to feel. You are allowed to just not like stuff. That’s not a comment on its quality, or my intelligence. #thewire
  4. I have never learned to enjoy grapefruit juice. Or okra. Or tripe. Is there a point when your palette stops evolving? #thebigquestions
  5. I have never understood how to keep my voice down. I just don’t here it. It’s loud. I project. Blame my theater training. #volume
  6. I have not won an Oscar. Or a Tony. Or a Pulitzer. YET. #futureme

Here are six things, however, that I HAVE done already in my life:

  1. I learned to sew, cook, knit, read a map, fold my laundry, figure out basic plumbing and keep plants alive and thriving. I can spatchcock a chicken, I can debone a fish, I can putty a wall, I can help a seed to grow, I can make my own wardrobe, I can build a bench,I can give a cat a home and all the love in my heart. #skills
  2. I have traveled, with a bag that is on wheels, by myself and with other people, to stand in a room with three Vermeer paintings in the Hague, to toast strangers with vodka in St. Petersburg, to dance until 5am in Buenos Aires, to the Great Wall of China and the Taj Mahal. #global
  3. I have seen 30 Rock and Mad Men both from pilot to finale twice. And also like a billion plays, and a bunch of movies, WITH subtitles, and so much television like Fleabag, Glow, The Good Wife, Game of Thrones, Orange is the New Black, Insecure, Blackadder, Yes Minister, Yes Prime Minister, Are You Being Served, Fawlty Towers, Gilmore Girls, Parks and Recreation, Better Off Ted, Arrested Development, Nashville, Hart of Dixie (NO REGRETS), Better Call Saul, Sherlock, Poirot, Miss Marple, Grantchester, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis, Doctor Blake, Miss Fisher, Murdoch Mysteries, Death in Paradise, Seinfield, New Girl, Bob’s Burgers, Archer, Law and Order (ALL OF THEM), True Detective (YES REGRETS), Lovesick (formerly scrotal recall), Gavin and Stacey, Claws (IT IS SO GOOD WATCH IT MY FRIEND JEFF WROTE IT ALONG WITH OTHER PEOPLE), The Mick, It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia…..  #accomplishments
  4. I have learned to accept gin as a part of life. #colonialism
  5. I have learned to be okay with my voice. And my hair. And my body, like, once a month. Maybe. #selflove
  6. I have sold a novel. And my friends who are amazing produced my play.  And I married my writing partner which is the best thing I could have ever done, because what’s-his-face and I have all sorts of plans. #blessed

And here are some things I want to do:

  1. I want to see more places. #go
  2. I want to learn more things. #do
  3. I want to write more, and do more, and love just as much. #yes

 

And here is a dress I made:

I used my trusty bodice block and obviously modified it for this very-unIndia friendly dress.

I mean, the fabric COMES from India, but the cleavage is basically A Fistful of Dollars it’s so Western. GET IT?

I took the sleeves from the Grainline Scout Tee and draped the skirt myself. The fabric is a subtle ikat from Thakur, and I have already made my feelings clear about Ikat sooooo….

And yes, pockets, obviously, you know the drill. I made what’s his face take these photos in this very cool hotel we stayed in recently in Vieques, Puerto Rico.

POCKETS FOREVER.

I finished the neckline with bias tape and french seamed the other seams. LIKE YOU DO.

And there you go. Red, and Red-y.

So maybe I’m okay at thirty. Maybe I am whatever I could have been. Despite the lack of snapchats to sell.

 

 

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Filed under Life, Sewing

The Recipe For Disaster Dress

It is excellent advice, in a sea of far too much advice, that Polonious gives to his son, Laertes: To thine own self be true. Of course, it comes with a bunch of other stuff around it that is questionable, I mean, neither borrower nor lender be? I think the banking industry would have some issues with that one. Do not dull thy palm with entertainment/ Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade? That’s basically telling him to never make a new friend. Don’t you want your kid to have FRIENDS, Polonius? Jesus. But the worst one for me is probably: give thy thoughts no tongue, which is just….I mean. That’s pretty much, like, my entire personality and career. So THANKS, Polonious, for that nugget of wisdom. But the last thing he says, the be true to yourself thing, is pretty good, and often quoted by many, and we all like it, right? It’s very new-agey for an Elizabethan writer. You can just imagine the teenagers who went and saw Hamlet at the globe and then came home and were like MOM I’m not GETTING married or getting APPRENTICED or ANYTHING. I’m becoming a LUTE PLAYER because that’s who I really AM. I’m being true to ME. It’s a wonder that play wasn’t banned, I swear.

But the point is, you SHOULD be true to yourself, really, I do believe that, and that starts with knowing yourself. But that said, I do sometimes make things that, despite real and sincere efforts towards self-knowledge as an adult human, have nothing to do with me and my life. I mean, I’m the kind of person who should wear a bib at leas 75% of the time, because I am klutzy in the extreme, prone to spilling, dripping, splattering and dropping anything and everything on myself within mere minutes of donning a light-colored ensemble. And yet, for some reason, my clothing for the past few months has been trending towards a color I should really avoid, purely because I rarely treat it well. Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about white. White, whose pure expanse I ruin with coffee, sauces, dirt, lipstick, you name it, I’ve done it. There isn’t a white I own that I haven’t spilled something on. Truly I, like Laertes, ought to be true to myself, shouldn’t I? I should be true to the me that spills and wear clothing made out of whatever fabric those absorbent Dockers are made of, honestly, because that would probably be the best bet. Or some kind of laminated fabric, raincoat material. Or all black, all the time.

But for whatever reason, it seems that I have had a growing attraction to said color this year. I’ve been flirting with all white dresses this year by making a bunch of things like this, and this, and this, that aren’t all white but are MOSTLY to 50% white. But this time? I went all the way. WHY? Why did I do this? When I put this dress on, what’s-his-face was like, are you sure you want to wear that? We are going to lunch and you….and then he discreetly trailed off. He blamed Indian food, which he said has the propensity to stain. Yeah. Sure. The FOOD is the problem.

I ditched this number for the lunch, but put it back on again for a friend’s birthday, and of course I spilled on it, and life went on. The truth is, I like white, and I spill on everything, and I just have to accept that. Perhaps THAT is being to mine own self true.

Enough with the philosophy! To the dress:

I used my typical bodice block, which I wanted to be a bit loose because I knew it would have to fit over a slip, so I added two inches at the side seams, and I pleated up a skirt. Pockets, natch, self-drafted sleeves that are a bit floofier than I had wanted but they’ve grown on me, and that is about it, honestly.

Love a pocket! Don’t you?

See, a little self-conscious of the floofy sleeves. But the pleats look nice in this one! The fabric is really the star here, I believe:

I love the vertical pattern of the eyelet, I think it makes it less cutesy, although this is still solidly in the cutesy category, and more clean. I got it at Thakur, of course, my new favorite.

I would say, stains aside, white is quite nice in the Mumbai heat.

Side view for ya.

And back!

So there you have it. A dress that would probably be better for someone who isn’t me, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Maybe that’s the real problem with Polonious’ advice, that one’s own self is sometimes a bit of a conundrum, confusing even to the self that one is. Ah, well. For as long as I have this dress and don’t stain it irrevocably, I like it!

 

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Filed under Clothing, Sewing

The Blending In Dress

The thing about moving to a new country is that you end up picking up on clothing trends, either because you choose to participate in them, or because you actively don’t. As I’ve mentioned before, in my initial “set in India” post, I’ve made some hemline adjustments, and I’ve said things in passing in other posts about clothing being “India friendly” or not “India friendly”, but generally I think I’m on the actively not participating side of the scale. After all, I haven’t adopted Indian forms of dress, nor do I follow the general “jeans and top” trend on display here among India’s elite. Instead, I tend to stick by my whole dress-and-skirt thing. Side note, try as I might, I genuinely do not understand something about the way people dress in India, specifically people who complain about the heat. Now, if you are comfortable in full-length pants and a long sleeve shirt in this climate, magnificent, no judgment here, you do you. If you wear a kurta and salwar trousers daily, I get that, it’s lightweight and really easy to wear, and I see how even if more of your body is covered, you actually stay really cool and comfortable. No idea what I’m talking about? It looks like this:

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And if you swear by the sari? No comments here, I get it, sari for life. But what I DON’T understand is people who wear long sleeve shirts and pants, and then complain to me about the weather. Why are you wearing a long sleeve shirt? Why? These people are never people without clothing options. They are sitting in a sweater or blazer and trousers and complaining about the heat and it’s like, come on, now, this one is on you. Look at your life, look at your choices. I am one of those people who really prefers not to complain about the weather, mostly because there is nothing I can do about the weather, except try to dress appropriately within it. That, I feel, is on me. People here are constantly asked me, don’t I think it’s awfully hot? And yes, Mumbai is hot and humid, but I can mitigate this with my clothing choices! This is not a high-alert modesty city, so you have clothing options wherever you go, and besides, it’s never the people who walk around on the street who complain about this stuff with me, its people who go from car to cafe to car again. If you are hot, invest in a pair of capris! Wear a short-sleeved shirt! It’s not rocket science, people! COME on! No matter how nice that leather jacket is, you don’t live in a place where that is practical, so save it for your North-bound vacation, or IF you are going to wear it in a city whose normal temperatures are in the 80’s, please don’t complain. Look at your life, look at your choices. You’ve made this bed, friend. Lie in it’s wool-lined sheets and sweat away.

Anyway, rant over. Probably never going to really understand it, sigh.

But clothing cultures do affect me, maybe because sewing has made me creepy and observant and likely to drool over details in other people’s outfits to the point that I’m sure a lot of people think I’m sexually interested in them because of how closely I’m looking. Oh, well, whatcha gonna do. So I did notice that when I visited Singapore for the first time that the clothing culture there is wildly different from India, not just because of Indian ethnic dress, of course, but because it’s a super business-casual kind of town. In my woven cotton dresses and skirts I felt oddly underdressed, and I realized that georgette crepe, pencil skirts and synthetic fabric dresses suitable for a business meeting are more the done thing there, especially walking around during the day. Of course, that makes sense, everyone works in Singapore, it’s business IS business, and it’s highly influenced by Chinese and Western fashions. But the homogeneity of it, or the way it looked homogeneous to me, really amazed me at the time and I wandered around feeling like a shlub both trips times I visited. So by the third time I was set to visit, I decided enough was enough. I was going to make something in that tropical-climate appropriate but slightly more formal but not that formal sweetspot. We have to invent more names these clothing categories…

So without further ado, my dress I constructed to, like a spy or an anthropologist, blend in in Singapore. Not that anyone actually CARES about me blending in there, it’s so not that kind of place. But still, a girl’s gotta keep herself occupied, packing for trip wise.

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Singapore right now is rather rainy, but still humid and hot. But this dress, made of a synthetic double-knit with a nice slightly crinkled texture I got from Fabric.com when I was in the US a few months ago, survived the rain we got caught in this day well. My hair? Not so much…

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Oy. Well, again, WHATCHA GONNA DO.

I drafted the pattern for this, based on my bodice block for a woven, which I converted into a princess-seam bodice and removed the seam allowance because of the knit-factor. I thought I would have to add a zipper because it was a double knit but this thing is stretchy as hell and so comfortable I can’t get over it.

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The skirt is a half-circle and I pleated the sleeve-heads. But really, the fabric is the star here, anti-synthetic bias aside, it’s just great. I love the print and the recovery is stellar. Damn you, synthetic knits!

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A little side view for you. You really can’t see any details of the stitching, ah well, sorry guys. The wind up on the roof of the National Museum of Singapore was a bit fierce, so the skirt looks a little hi-low in this photo, but it’s not, I promise. Boy, this dress post is all about trust, isn’t it?

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I seamed the back which looks okay, not great. If I was doing this again, I would omit the back-seams and just keep the princess seams on the front, which I like, shape-wise.

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So there we go! I probably should have taken some crowd shots so you could see how well I blended in in Singapore. But again, trust me, I’m really basically a native because of this outfit, I promise…

 

 

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Filed under Clothing, knit, Travel, Uncategorized

The Proud To Be Paisley Dress

This year, fabric-buying-wise, has been all about white fabric with blue motifs. I don’t know why, how, or who influenced me in this, but somehow this theme has sunk its way into my consciousness. Maybe it’s my way of attempting to stay cool and collected in Mumbai’s oppressive year-round humidity, and these attempts, I should tell you, fail miserably. I usually show up everywhere sweating profusely, hair frenzied and breaking free of whatever weak excuse for a hair tie is trying to keep it in check, cheeks red, body thrumming with heat. It’s a very attractive sight, I gotta tell you.

One of the strangest things for me is how many women here wear full length shirts and pants and skirts and sometimes even sweaters and seem totally comfortable, nary a drop of sweat clinging to their noses, while in my lightweight cotton skirts and tops I’m a maelstrom of discomfort. My mother in law primly informed me that women here cover up to avoid getting darker in the sun, with the superior tone Northerners so often use in these commentaries. That is probably true for some, I suppose, but a lot of people I know just say they are more comfortable that way. Most of me thinks “THAT’S A DAMN LIE PASS ME THE WATER!” but some part of me wonders if that might be true. I doubt very much I will ever feel that way. When What’s-his-face donned a flannel on the crisp (ha!) evenings of 75 degrees during Bombay’s two-week winter the past January, and shivered as we waited for a rickshaw to take us to the movie theater, my mocking cackle rang out into the night.

I grew up going to San Juan regularly, and the same was true there, in the “winter” people shivered in jeans and sweaters while I gleefully played on empty beaches, ran around in shorts, and proclaimed to all and sundry how warm the weather was compared to winter in Philadelphia. Someone I know who has been living in Mumbai for the last nine years or so told me recently they tend to reach for long sleeves and pants as a matter of course now, but I doubt I will ever get to that point (and besides, I’m not willing to stay nine years to find out…). So I suppose I will just keep having to aspire to coolness in my clothing. I have recently (i.e. last night) picked up two lengths of a lightweight textured cotton to make wide-legged culottes hacking a la this tutorial, so maybe that’s my concession to pants right now. That’s as far as I think I can currently go. If I’m sweating right now, in a t-shirt and knee-length skirt, I don’t even want to know what I would be like in MORE clothing.

Anyway effective or no, the white and blue fabrics, most of which were purchased on my trip to Rajasthan and Delhi, are at least visually soothing. The one I used to make the dress I’m about to display, however, was purchased right here in Bombay, just down the road from my apartment in Santacruz West at Sew In Style, proving that cool fabrics are to be found everywhere, if only you look for them.

On a related but unrelated note, I have never really liked paisley, probably because my mother has never liked paisley and that’s one of the taste things we share. For her, it’s probably a reaction to the 1970’s, a decade she lived through in all its paisley horror. That being said, I’m actually very excited for this show, is anyone else? But when I showed her this dress, she said, and I quote, nice paisley! I hadn’t really thought it WAS paisley, but even if it is, I like it! So I’m proud. Maybe the Mughal tinge off-sets the 70’s curse…

img_20160911_161525So the pattern is my bodice block, but this time I added 1.5 inches to the side seams and lengthened the bodice by 3 inches. I wanted it to be looser and less fitted than normal, because again, so hot… the less fitted thing takes getting used to, because I usually think it makes me look bigger than I am, but the comfort is great, so I’m trying to get into it.

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I self-lined the bodice but didn’t line the skirt, and I wear a slip I made under it because the skirt is a little transparent and homie don’t play that in India. These photos were actually taken in Delhi, where I went from hotel to cab to restaurant to cab to hotel, you get the picture. Turns out you can wear whatever you want in Delhi as long as…no one sees you.

The one thing about self-lining the bodice is that the motif sort of shows through. Ah, well. I can live with that.

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I put in pockets! Duh.

Not only does it have pockets BUT my phone upon which these photos were taken, does this animation thing so the photo above is slightly animated! It’s slow, though, at least it is on my browser, so you can really spend time with some of my more attractive faces.

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The skirt is one I draped, with a large central pleat and smaller ones on each side.

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A little back view for you.

And a little close up!

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See it’s a bit of a paisley but it’s also sort of something else, I don’t know, I like it, though! It looks historic and interesting not, you know, cheap and polyester…So that’s a plus!

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So there you go. For once, proud to be paisley! And generally hoping to stay cool. Welcome to my life.

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Big buns and pockets. The India story. In my quest to try out new things, new shapes, like my crop top and pants (by the way, thanks for your lovely words and thoughts and concerns, wonderful Internet friends!) sometimes I look at the photos and think, oy to the no. But, hey, try it, right? I can get used to this looser shape, and this really isn’t that loose. Wait and see what I’ve got coming up next….

 

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Filed under Self Drafted, Sewing

The How the Tables Have Turned Skirt

Before I jump into talking about this outfit (I’ve named this post after the skirt but I also made the top and don’t think I ever talked about it before…strange), I want to say that the title of this post reminds me both of the phrase “how the tables have turned” because it’s right there in the title, and also this season of Orange is the New Black which had this episode called “Turn Table Turn” and it was great. AS WAS THE ENTIRE SEASON. Ugh, you wait so long for things, like Mad Men (RIP) or Game of Thrones or Orange is the New Black (OITNB as the kids call is) and you wait and wait and wait and it’s like:

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And then it comes and I’m just like:

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And then it’s over and it’s like:

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And then you meet people who DON’T watch what you watch and you are just like:

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If I knew how GIFs work, I would have these here instead, but I don’t, so you just need to deal with that in your own time.

This was a standout season of the show, I personally believe, in so many ways, and I just loved it. See, what I love about the show, beyond the many many many amazing women who fill up my screen in each episode, is the way the containment of the prison forces scenes and interactions to move in a more play-scene way, allowing for reactions to be long and to play out in surprising and emotionally resonant ways. The fast pace of television is sometimes halted in its tracks by the situation of the prison, so that emotions need to have their time and space and relationships have to turn and evolve in a contained space. I love it. I think it’s brilliant, and all the more so for recognizing that Piper is often the least interesting person on-screen and wisely moving to the many other amazing characters. And now I have to wait another damn year for it. I guess I’ll go watch Marco Polo or something now, I mean, Jesus, what else am I supposed to do with my time? Another white guy talking about his life-altering trip to Asia. Puh-lease.

ANYway, speaking of tables turning, let’s talk about how I used to never make maxi dresses and now I make maxi-things all the damn time to the point that What’s-his-face was like, Leah, no more maxis. How many maxis can you own? Now, this is a very Indian way to say things, and sadly What’s-his-face doesn’t recognize that what THAT sounds like is a challenge to which I must respond CHALLENGE ACCEPTED! And have a thousand.

Or five. Or whatever. It’s become such an epidemic in our home that I even made a Maxi shirt! I’ve actually made two, but one is too simple to be worth blogging, so I’m just focusing on this one. To be fair, a maxi skirt or dress is just so flipping useful here, it really is, so regardless of the judgement from SOME people, I’m just going to be like:

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and probably keep making them. This is maxi-length land. When in India….

So I got this fabric on my fabric buying trip with Liz (hi, Liz!). In our efforts to find ikats we….found a lot of ikats. That’s what happens here. It’s nice. But this one was really something special, and I thought it would look good in pleats. Check it out! (GET IT?)

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I drafted the skirt myself, if you can call it that, it was really just messing around with pleats honestly, and a waistband, and pockets. So it’s that’s drafting then yes, I drafted it.

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Pockets! Love em. Big enough for my phone, for my keys, for my hopes and dreams…

The top is a Grainline Studios tiny pocket tank, which I made over a year ago with the remnants of some fabric I had used to make a shirt for what’s-his-face. That was the second I made for him, and now, some ten shirts later, you will still never see one on this blog because what’s-his-face is shy. So you will just have to trust me, they are out there, they exist.

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Ugh, I look like I have a double chin here, sigh.

It’s a cute top, the fabric is great, but I think we all know who the fabric star is here….it’s the ikat. Have you ever seen one like this before? I hadn’t, I love it! The colors, the checks, the texture, I just think it’s stunning. I thought pleats would suit it and I’m happy I was correct. It gives me a warm pleasant feeling to be RIGHT. God, I want to ride that high forever.

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This is a little blurry, sorry, but the waistband has a button in the back, stone buttons which are vintage and I have a bunch of them. It also has a vintage zipper, which is just peeking out there, it’s a magenta color to match the raspberry of the checks.

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You can just see the pleats, there, they meet in the center of the skirt. It’s subtle, but I like the effect.

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I hand-stitched the hem, and you can see the fabric a little better here.

The pockets are a contrast, which is subtle but fun! I didn’t have enough of the ikat, though, so that’s also why. Contrasts can do many things…

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It’s a fairly simple make, but it’s so useful. Maxi-length isn’t going anywhere for as long as we are here, sigh, and while it may make me look short, at least it works all over the place.

Now, to mourn the coming and going of new seasons of shows, and sigh.

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There you go! Any show recommendations, anyone? Bueller?

 

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Filed under Grainline Patterns

The Somewhere Columbus is Happy and Doesn’t Know Why Dress

I am sure you, like most people who went to kindergarten, know, that the whole Indians-Native Americans thing exists and is such a damn mess because of Spanish explorers like Christopher Columbus and Portuguese explorers whose names no one remembers after that 11th grade final history exam. Geographically challenged explorers trying to get their hands on some pepper just assumed that the people they met in the New World must be Indians, despite the fact that I’m sure those guys tried to explain that these were NOT THE SAME PEPPERS, IDIOTS. Ugh. Translation issues, am I right? Tower of Babel indeed.

Peter Bruegel the Elder's Tower of Babel. Where all the trouble began....

Peter Bruegel the Elder’s Tower of Babel. Where all the trouble began….

Sidenote, how boring must food have been before the spice trade kicked in? My friend Ben and I (hi, Ben!) were wandering the Brooklyn Museum the other day in the Egyptian wing (I recently visited the States, more on that in a moment, GOD I’ve missed museums, like, really good museums, come on, Indian museums, step it up!)  and we were talking about pre-sugar societies. I think I could do a pre-sugar society, but pre-salt, no way to the Jose. What is life without salt? I’ve read the Grimm tale but it turns out it’s a universal one, check out this Punjabi story on the same theme.  But pre-spice society also sounds fairly lame. No wonder hundreds of Portuguese guys killed themselves trying to navigate the Cape of Good Hope trying to get to that Indian pepper, that ginger, the cardamom, those cloves. In medieval Europe spice stores were locked up and specially opened for feasts. Princesses came to their new households with dowry boxes full of spices as well as gold and silks. Spices changed the world, and if you don’t believe me, you can read about it in this, one of my favorite books on the subject.

So it’s not so surprising that the early Europeans who came to a place like Puerto Rico would have wanted it to be India, because, duh, spices, but it is sort of surprising that when they discovered it WASN’T India they didn’t, I don’t know, find another name for the natives. Oh, well, I guess they didn’t care because they were too depressed about the lack of pepper or too amazed by the taste of peppers. One of those two. So the word in Spanish, indio, still means native person, for no reason anyone can tell, and the West Indies are still a thing, despite the fact that literally the entire New World could be characterized as West of India.

So, end of the day, the Spanish didn’t get to bring any Indian stuff back from Puerto Rico. But I did get to BRING some Indian stuff to Puerto Rico this past March, when I got a chance to stop by San Juan during my trip back to the United States. So, there you go. It’s the circle of life. I really should have gotten some peppercorns to sprinkle around, like you do with malt liquor when a fellow gang-member dies. Instead, I just brought a pretty (if I do say so myself) block printed dress. Ah, well. Close enough, right? If those guys couldn’t figure out that Latin America isn’t India, they probably would buy that this dress was an exotic kind of pepper…

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So, I used my handy bodice block for this one, and I have to say, I think the darts actually did something really cool with these lines of darts on this fabric, I love it! Totally unintentional, but I’m going to pretend it was my idea all along. Natch.

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See? It warps the lines of printing around my (not unsubstantial) bosom, giving it a cool look. I tried to do a split neck thing here but it instead keeps flapping open, grrrrrr. The lining I used, which the smiling men at the fabric stall not too far from my apartment in Mumbai ASSURED me was 100% cotton and is probably like, 10% cotton 80% polyester 10 % LIES, is really light and drapy, so I probably should have interfaced around that slit. Oh WELL. I can live with it. Sigh.

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I drafted the skirt, in that I cut large rectangles and pleated them in large box pleats. Does that count as drafting? I’m going to say no, it’s too fancy a word for what is essentially some fabric folding.

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Yeah, I put in pockets. #Stayingonbrand.

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A little back view for you.

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The fabric is a block print from Rajasthan which I bought in Kolkata. That might sound confusing to you, but go with it. India has large government emporiums where they sell goods from each state at prices subsidized by the government so they are cheap and amazing, and a lot of those goods are, shall we say, of the textile variety? So this fabric came from one of those markets in Kolkata, but it is a Rajasthani bock print, nonetheless. It’s fairly different from the more traditional prints, which is what attracted me to it. That and the color. I should just live my life in this color, I’m telling you.

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Ug, that neck split. WHATEVER. I’m moving on with my life! I’m not going to dwell like the Spanish Empire did! If there is one thing I promised my self I wouldn’t do with my life, it was become like the Spanish Empire.

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A little hand stitching on the hem. I also hand-picked the zipper. I’m back to doing that. After a brief foray with the machine stitching, I’ve returned to my one true love, the hand stitched zipper.

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Neck split aside, I love this dress. It’s colorful, cheerful, and it mentions India without screaming it out. Much as the Spanish probably did when they saw Puerto Rico. Idiotas!

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Here’s to you, Cristobal. Sorry about the pepper. Enjoy the peppers. I will be enjoying this:

 

 

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Filed under Sewing, Travel

The Accidental Patriot Outfit

While I generally feel positive about the country of my birth, I rarely feel the need to coat myself in its colors head to toe. Funny story, though, recently I was at a wedding which included a Western Style ceremony (you know, girl wears white to symbolize purity because of antiquated archaic notions of inheritance anxiety and the social need to police female chastity, guy wears a suit, rings exchanged, embarrassing speeches made by drunk exes/siblings, the usual) in addition to the normal Hindu thing (you know, wear a bunch of red and gold, invite thousands of strangers you’ve never met, find flower petals and glitter on your body in the shower DAYS later, the usual) and this girl, inspired, no doubt, by the theme, wore a dress made of an American flag. This delighted whats-his-face and I so much so that we sort of stalked her around the wedding (which would have been really creepy if it was just whats-his-face, come to think of it, yet another reason to get married, to save curious men from scaring strangers). That was a truly amazing moment in life. One wonders if she wears Indian flags to Indian weddings….

So recently, when visiting a museum with a friend in the middle of the week (let’s talk about working from home and how awesome it is sometime, when I’m not so busy working from home and thinking about how awesome it is), I realized that I was accidentally decked out in colors that showed my American-ness as clearly as my accent does. Could it have been a subconscious longing for the United States? My desires dictating my clothing without my knowledge? Or just a strange coincidence? Maybe the colors you absorb around you somehow work their way into your mind, affecting your clothing choices. My friend Becca (hi, Becca!) and her mother Mary (hi, Mary!) have this issue as art conservators, especially Mary, who realized that she was accidentally dressing to match paintings she was restoring.

Whatever the cause, I look like an American flag a little bit here, fair warning.

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Sun blasted photographs aside (hey, man, I live in India…) I like this outfit a lot! I’ve realized I really need to make more solid tops and bottoms, and this skirt, a self-drafted situation, was an awesome start. I wear it so very often, and I am grateful to my past self every single time.

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It’s a little deceitful here, because it looks like it had side gathers, but it actually has two large box pleats which because of the drapey nature of the fabric are a little crumpled here. But you can clearly see I put in pockets which is vitally important!

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That’s a little better, the rare situation in which an indoor shot is better than an outdoor one. AND you can see this lovely museum, an equally rare thing, a museum in India that looks really nice and is well maintained! Of course, the collection…makes zero sense. But hey, man, that’s Indian museums for you, at least, in my experience. But the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum is, at least, a lovely place.

The shirt is a Grainline Scout Tee. Man, I love that pattern. I just make it all the time and can’t stop. A woven tee-shirt. Who knew it would be such a wardrobe staple?

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I had most of these photos taken in a space the museum made for statues that people have been defacing after the end of British rule in India, like a sad little garden of damaged colonial statues. I love it.

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I don’t know what they had against that elephant, though. The blouse is a little billowy, but honestly, in the Mumbai heat and humidity, I will take comfort that comes with looking a little fuller through fabric drape any day. You can see the box pleat nicely in this shot, though, and even a tiny hint of the white pocket fabric I used.

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How cool is the button? Man, I love that button. I always opt for the waistband button because its a great way to use buttons and it’s fun. Excuse the stray threads!

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I love the fabric, too. Mangaldas Market strikes again! If you are ever in Mumbai, get on it.

Want evidence that this museum is super weird? Don’t worry. I took photos! Things that are in this museum include vases, urns, pottery, ancient playing cards:

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And….dioramas! A LOT OF THEM:

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That says “Rear livestock of good breeds”. It’s like the Met, I’m telling you.

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This is a case that shows all the incarnations of Vishnu.

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It’s honestly worth going just for the Museum alone.

And I think I made it very clear in there that I was an American tourist. So I really paved the way for my people. You’re WELCOME!

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Filed under Clothing, Grainline Patterns