DIY: Hokusai's The Great Wave Dress

 'kay, lemme first start by saying that I don't know what in the world kind of crazy blurry lame-o setting I put my camera on but I blame it entirely on these crazy blurry lame-o photos. And the crazy blurry lame-o photographer. Who just so happens to be me. 

That being said, look! I put a great big Hokusai wave on my dress! And take another look! At the entrance to the art room! Be sure to get a good hard look before that evil fun-hater the Fire Marshall comes and has a heart attack at all of the codes I'm breakin'. I mean, did you see the tree? And I've not even given you a complete tour of the place, complete with the hanging lanterns and wax paper umbrellas (tour post coming soon). I mean, seriously. If I don't cause the dude to go into early retirement then I'm just not doin' my job, says me. And my principal. But she says that too me all the time.

 I painted this Great Wave mural over 10 years ago for a bulletin board in my previous school. I can't believe that I actually managed to 1. not lose it; 2. not tear it up; 3. it just feels like there should be a 3 here even though I don't have a third point. I decided to hang it outside my art room because 1. there wasn't any more wall space in my classroom; 2. I was tired of seeing it rolled up and on the floor in my storage closet; 3. again, no third point but 3 was feeling left out.

 I thought the black backdrop would show off the painting a bit more than the cinder blocks. AND I also thought of the look it would put on ole Fun-hatin' Fire Marshall's face and was all, "YES, wall-to-wall paper it 'tis."

 Being the crazy person that I am, I got it in my head that I needed a dress to match our unit on Hokusai's The Great Wave. And wouldn't you know, that very day The Thrift Store Gods smiled on me and put this sweet white Target dress in my hands.

 From blah to Holy Crap, run for your lives, that wave is gonna swallow us whole!

 Just in case you wanna make a Great Wave Dress (and, like, duh, who doesn't?!), here's what I did: I began by laying out my dress and drawing my version of Hokusai's print in the size I thought would work on the dress. On the back of some wrapping paper. Because I didn't have anything else (BTW, if you are expecting a prezzie from me in the near future, be warned, it will be wrapped in a Kroger sack. I'm outta wrapping paper.)

 To create the two tones of blue in the big waves, I appliqued these teal pieces on top of the dark blue.

 I decided to use the white of the dress for the foamy part of the wave. Which meant I only had to create the blue portions of the water.

 Here you can see the white of the dress acting as the negative space. BTW, that's a kneaded eraser in the foreground. Not my chewing gum.

 Once a thousand of the world's most pokey-est of pins were put into place, the stitching commenced. Which, fyi, is no fun party when you are constantly being stabbed by said pokey-est of pins.

Once all the pieces were in place, I added the zigzag types of lines to create the waves and, viola! One Great Wave Dress complete!

Oh! By the way, I totally didn't forget about the giveaway (ha! yes, I did). So, don't you worry. I'll be announcing the winner soonish. Good news for all you slackers, there's still time to throw your name into the ring. Do it! You need crayon fabric in your life. Trust me. It makes a world of a difference (no it doesn't. Drinking does).

Chat soon, ya'll! I'm off to find out just why my photos are so crazy blurry lame-o. And possibly fire my photographer.

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In the Art Room: Welcome to Japan!

 So, can you guess where we'll be traveling this year in the art room? If you just guessed "Chexico!" like one of my students today, then, I hate to tell ya this, but you are incorrecto. As they say in Chexico.

However, if you guessed, "We are going to Japanese!" like another student of mine, then, yay! You're getting warmer! We'll be studying the art, culture and people of Asia this year. I decided to go with a Japanese theme for my room decor.

 That being said, I really had no clue just how I was gonna transform these windows into the Land of the Rising Sun. So I uprooted a stash of Hokusai prints (my inspiration for this post) and slowly started knocking it out.

 The kids are always fascinated by the window paintings. My favorite question of all time: "Does the principal know you painted the windows?" My other favorite question comes every year from my custodian buddy who will walk in, stop dead in his tracks and say, "Did you paint that?!" Seriously, every year. When I tell him, "yes!" I always get an "all by yourself?!"

 It took me a couple of hours to wash Paris off my windows and take down all of the art work. Here's what my blank canvas, so to speak, looks like. It's a lovely view but it can be very distracting to the kids when we have wacky weather, friends on the playground or sun shining in our eyes and burning out our retinas.

I began working on this during summer for just a few hours a day. On the morning I came back to this, I absolutely hated it. The colors seemed too bright and garish to me. But I've got a rule about art-making that comes courtesy of Tim Gunn: Make it work.

 At the end of that day, I was getting a little closer to being finished and a little happier with the result. I figured whatever I didn't like I could stick my giant tree in front of. Cuz that's Tim Gunn's other no-as-popular credo: Big a** trees hide big a** mistakes.

 This here's about the time I threw down my brushes, wiped my brow and heard that oh-so-familiar, "Did you paint that?!" And all that was left was adding the tree.

 Now this tree came in at least a half dozen parts from the ever-so-lovely Anthropologie store in downtown Franklin, Tennessee. Wasn't that so super awesome of them to donate it to the art room? I thought so. I had some of my favorite buddies help me put the thing together...and we almost did it. However, my skillz with drillz are seriously lacking. The thing ended up with enough screws sticking out of it that it closely resembled a cactus. When I asked the principal if all the kids had their tetanus shots because, if not, we might have a prob with all those rusty bits sticking out, she kinda freaked a little. I'm not gonna lie. I was woe-is-meing to a wonderful parent at our school who then proceeded to volunteer her awesome husband to come and fix Big Bad Tetanus Tree. And all was happy in Chexico. Er, Japanese. Japan! Whatever.

And while I totally love my Japanese set up, I gotta tell you, I'm gonna miss Paris a bit. In fact, I had one or two students today tell me that they'll miss seeing the hot air balloons and the Eiffel Tower.

 The year before we studied Europe, we covered Egypt. At this time, I was only painting the right bank of windows. Before I went all crazy town and painted the entire ding-dong thing.

Regardless, I'm super stoked for the new school year. This is what I wore today as our introduction to the art room and a tiny glimpse into our year in Asia. Although it appears we might have to have a wee chat about cultural acceptance as I heard this from one of my students today:

"Mrs. Stephens," with a look from head to toe, a sigh and an eye roll, "you look ridiculous. As usual."

Seriously? I get no respect! 

Sayonara, dudes!

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DIY: A Crayon-tastic Dress and A GIVEAWAY!

 What you see here is an art teacher that's one crayon short of a full box. 

Partly cuz, let's face it, I'm nutz (and I'm not just sayin' so. During our school's evening registration, I was asked on more than one occasion by the under-10 set if I was planning on being "even crazier this year." When I replied with an "um, I suppose so?" I was met with mostly "yes!"es and a few "oh no"s. But those came from parents and the administration. Which doesn't count, says me.) And the other partly cuz, well, I used several of the crayons from my box for that there hair clip.

But that crayon clip was just the icing on this Ultra-Geeky-Crayontastic-Art-Teachery-Get-Up Cake. 

When I stumbled upon this crayon fabric at JoAnn's, I knew deep in my tacky-bedazzled heart that it was meant for curtain-making or bulletin board decorating. Not dresses. I thought to myself, "Should I? Or would that be taking things a little too far?" And then I remembered THIS get up, laughed manically (which drew stares and whispers and a phone call to the police) and realized I done took things too far a long long time ago.

I also scooped up a coupla yards of that blue chevron. I loved the idea of it paired with the crayon fabric (look, I can teach about zig zag lines and crayons with this dress. Shoot, this dress just does the teachin' itself. Thank goodness because with all this sewing I forgot to write my lesson plans. Just kidding, principal lady!).

You might recall I scored a batch o vintage patterns this summer that just happened to be in my size. I decided to use the one above...with much anticipation. I've never heard good things about Vague, er, Vogue patterns and, I gotta say, with good reason. I mean, I thought Mrs. Butterick was bad. She at least talked to me. Vogue just uses pictures, arrows and a couple line drawings of the middle finger. It's most off-putting. Thankfully, this pattern was pretty self-explanatory, so my wee brain was able to manage.

 I really loved the dress on the envelope with the butterfly border fabric so I used the crayons as the boarder to the chevron. I was a little concerned that so much blue zigzag would be boring and toyed around with other fabric choices. In the end, I decided that having the zigzags run in different directions would be twofold terrificness: horizontals to accentuate and verticals to elongate. Wow, that sentence made me sound all smart -n- stuff. Maybe I'll include that in my lesson plan. Oh! By the way, crayon shoe DIY here. Cuz I know you're dying to make your own. Double Oh! More about my Art History Wall here.

 Just a coupla books I plan on reading whilst wearing said dress. See, I did plan. A little. 

Have ya'll read these? Love 'em.

 And there you have it! One Crayon Dress complete(-ly crazy. You're welcome, children.)

 And now, lemme giveaway some stuff! I have a coupla odd-shaped yards of this crayon fabric (due to cutting to create the border) and this super rad vintage box of Crayola crayons in hardly-used condition. The fabric would make great quilting squares, classroom curtains, underwear, the possibilities are endless. To enter, all you gotta do is leave a comment about what you'd do with either the crayons, the fabric or both! International friends, you are always welcome to join the fun. I'll throw all ya'll's names in a jar and announce the winner sometime next week. When I've finished writing my lesson plans.

Until then, lemme hear from you and enjoy the rest of your week!

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What the Art Teacher Wore #71

I have no idea what's happening here. More than likely I'm trying to suppress a fart because hubs was in the background making dinner and his gross-out-tolerance is extraordinarily low. Which is unfortunate for him, being married to a fart-in-the-kitchen-whilst-preparing-dinner dame like me. dress: The Limited (I know, right!); cumberbun: gift from a friend; crinoline: picked up at Pre-to-Post Modern in Nashville; shoes: Sofft; necklace: vintage Target

Ya'll've (yes, I just invented a new contraction: you, all and have. Deal wit it) heard of Shark Week, right? Well, with hubs on vacation last week, it was Hubs Week at Casa de Cassie. Which was awesome because we got to spend so much time together (well, okay, "awesome" might be a bit of an exaggeration. A week is a really long time) and we got so much done. For example, we managed to watch every episode of Naked and Afraid (are you watching this? You really should be because it rocks). Now, if you're like me, when you heard that title you had flashbacks of the time the electricity went out in JCPenny's while you were trying on bathing suits...very frightening and naked. Kid ya not. Thankfully, that's not what this show is about. It's a reality survival show that features a nude guy and gal who are stranded on a remote location for 21 days with only one item of their choosing. After watching back to back 'sodes, hubs and I already know what we'd take: a keg and a hot tub. Duh. 

Other than that, we went to the movies, visited friends and fam and just plain relaxed. It was a lovely week that just zipped by at the speed of a flying squirrel (more on that shortly). And now, it's back to reality. Hubs has returned to work and I go back to school on...Wednesday. This Wednesday, people! And I can't...stop...crying. Tears of joy, of course. Big fat hairy tears of...joy.

Until I stop sobbing, I hope you have a super groovy week. Chat soon!

A coupla years ago, hubs decided he wanted to grow some fruit in our front flower bed. Which would be great if it wasn't The Front FLOWER Bed. Not like that matters as flowers have been refusing to last more than a week up in dat bed for as long as I can remember (which could have something to do with the fact that I'm like the Grim Reaper Gardener). So hubs stuck some strawberry plants and a blackberry bush in the ground. This year we've finally been able to get to the blackberries before our furry friends and have been munching on these lovelies for weeks. We couldn't figure out just who was eating up our strawberries until we came home to a skunk with a mouthful of berries and a tail raised and ready to rip, not unlike me in the top photo. To which we said, "We're good, skunk. You enjoy those berries, they's all yours."

Would you take a look at this super sweet photo-bomber? We're attempting to put this big ole gal on another diet...we've gotten a bit outta control giving her our table scraps (which include ice cream, cheese, yogurt and grits. Yes, grits. She's a Southern cat, after all). dress: BCBG; sweater: thrifted, Banana Republic; belt: Pin Up Girl Clothing; bow pin: Sweet Katie from The Little Red Squirrel!; shoes: Crocs...they've become my go-to shoe for all of this rain we've been having

Okay, dudes, quiz time. Do you know what this is...? And don't be all Mr./Mrs. Obvious and say, "Duh, Cassie, it's a squirrel." Because, I can assure you, after witnessing it flying up to the bird house and zip into it at the speed of light, it is not (and by "witnessing", I mean hubs saw it happen and told me all about it. And, unlike myself, he's not inclined to tell tall-tales or fart in the kitchen. Which I bet is mighty uncomfortable for him. The no-farting not the no-lying.)

I mean, it's totally not a regular squirrel, look at those crazy pupils. I had to tiptoe up to the house and hold the camera at arms-length just to get a good photo of the little guy. I woulda gotten closer but I had visions of him flying out of the house and attaching himself to my face and sucking my brain out thru my eyeballs. Because that's what flying squirrels do, right? Hence the dilated pupils.

Another photo-bomber who actually closely resembles the Unabomber, strangely enough. Funny-ish story, hubs and I were out recently when I overheard a woman say, "Oh, I love your sandals." Now, I'm not gonna lie, you dress crazy for a little while and you get rather used to folk commentin' on your duds (my fave, "Do you always dress like that?!") My response to the sweet lady was "Oh! Thank you!" only to discover she was talking to hubs about his hippie rope sandals. Hubs looked at me and said, "She was talking to me. It's not always about you. I look cute too." Indeed. dress: Tennessee Antique Mall

Definitely, um, cute.

Even though hubs had the week off, I had to get into my art room and work just a pinch. I managed to wash Paris off my windows and begin knockin' out my latest theme. I'm still far from finished but it sure made me sleep a little better at night to get some work done. dress: The Hip Zipper, Nashville; headband: Pangea, Nashville

Hubs and I took a mini-road trip to visit some friends in Knoxville, Tennessee. Whenever we are there, I gotta stop into my two fave vintage joints, Nostalgia and Four Seasons Vintage which are conveniently close together. I love this collection of salt and pepper shakers...but I scored my own collection at the thrift store just before droppin in here.

 I love a vintage joint with a shop kitty, don't you? This one cracked up me, I'd never seen a cat scoop water up and drink it that way. With this kind of talent I now understand why the restroom door had to remain closed. Wouldn't wanna interrupt a scoop-n-drink of toilet water.

So I've gotten like super lazy with my hair-stylin's of late. This is what happens when I wash my hair and decide to attempt Heidi braids: I end up with 1980's anchor man hair. Which is totally making a comeback so don't you knock it. dress: vintage; belt: gift; owl sandals and sweater: Anthro

Well, it doesn't look like this anymore because today I finished this beast! Although, just looking at this half finished monster, any idea where I'm taking the kids in art class this year...?

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DIY: A Mid Century Mod Dress

Do you find my creepy grin as disturbing as I do? I can't decide if it's the part where I'm trying to bare all my teeth or the dead look behind my eyes. I predict this is the same creepy grin I'll be baring upon the first day back to school. "Welcome back! I am soooo happy to see (uncomfortable swallow whilst maintaining creepo grin) yoooooou."

   Holy moly, I have so much to tell you I don't even know where to begin. Despite the title of this post, I definitely will not be chatting about this new dress right away. That was just a ploy to draw you in (because "DIY: Mid Century Mod Dress" is such a great hook, right?!). We have much more pressing matters to discuss. Like dangerous kitchen accidents with food processing blades where a tampon is applied to the wound to slow the flow. Yeah. See? I told you. LOTS to discuss.

   I don't know if you know this about me, but I have a fabric hoarding problem. No, really. I know, you're thinking, "Whatever, Stephens. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, 'Tis a rule of manners to avoid exaggeration.'" Wow. You're like so well read and stuff. But I'm not exaggerating! Upcoming post, I'll prove it to you. In the meantime, this here amazing mid-century mod fabric has been in my stash forever. Because I found it at the thrift store and there was no writing on the selvage edge, I dunno if it's actually vintage. Nonetheless, it spoke to me and said "Make me into a dress. After you make me a sandwich." Ermkay.

 Okay, so I know you're dying. Tampons?! Food processing accidents?! (Geesh, why wasn't that the title of this blog post? It woulda gone viral!) Well, just hold on. If Ima gonna tell this story right, I've gotta start at the beginning. And, like most beginnings not often shared on this here blog, mine begins with a DIY fail. Or four.

 Oh, look. My lovely deck. Funny story about my deck. Last summer I was put in charge of getting some quotes to have our deck painted. Which, as you can see, I never did follow through with. But whatever, that's not the point of this here story. One of the dudes who came out to quote us showed up in his adorable turquoise mini-cooper wearing skinny shorts and Beatles boots. In the summer. In Tennessee. Which means it's like 150 in the shade. But look at the way I dress, I'm not one to judge (haha, yes I am). Anyway, dude was a super nice guy from New Zealand. Are there any New Zealanders in the house? If so, I've gotta tell ya, ya'll need to learn the correct pronunciation of the word "deck". Because my deck quoting friend referred to it as our "dick." As in, "You're dick's in bad shape. I think if I stain your dick it will look so much better." Hubs and I could hardly keep a straight face. Because we're 12.

DIY fail item #1: My deck decorating. First of all, lemme just say, we have this nice big deck (heehee) and never use it. Because it's 150 degrees outside in the shade, remember? AND it has a hot tub. Which we've never ever used because it's not 1987 and my husband isn't Tom Seleck. I hate the unsightly thing so this summer I got the genius idea to "hide" it with plants. As you can see, it's working out great. As did hanging those planters on those diagonal boards. And, let's not forget the oil cloth pillows I attempted to sew. All of which frustrated me to the point that I just dropped my tools, snapped a photo and went inside to destroy another DIY dream:

These here Anthro-inspired chairs. Which I am determined to conquer. Although, as you can see, I currently stand defeated. Because after the 56th rouge staple flew out of the staple gun, I thought, "forget this noise, I don't wanna end up getting hurt" (little did I know blood shed would come later). And, just like the deck, I left the mess where it was and did what any normal person would do. I made a dress.

 Aw, don't act like you wouldn't have done the same thing. I've been toying with the idea of turning this fabric into a sort of early 1960's tiki dress for a while. And with my deck and living room covered in DIY disasterness, the only safe place seemed to be my sewing room. I used my two fave patterns, combining the pocketed and gathered skirt of the Project Runway pattern with the bodice of the vintage pattern.

 I am kinda in love with this bodice and the big band of fabric...as you may know. Because I've made this same bodice like 4000 times. Not only is it slimming but it's also a place to play with color and pattern. Which is why I've used it, oh, here, here, here, here and, um. Here.

 Now, being a pattern from the 1960's it has that close-to-the-neck fit. Which I don't totally love because it's not comfortable. And because of my gorilla neck. The other prob with this pattern is that once complete, there's this extra fabric at the at the neck. As you can see, along with my hairy gorilla neck, above.

 So, as usual, I went to get hub's opinion of the dress. And he was like, "What's with the gap in the back?" He's actually said that every time I've made this dress. And I'm always like, "oh, it's a design element" which is code for "I have no clue!" It was at the point in our convo for me to deliver my design element BS when hubs said, "wait a minute. I have an idea." Now, I have to tell you, my hubs is kinda this amazing idea man. My favorite case in point: the time he and his roommates who never ever cleaned the bathroom of their apartment were moving out of their soon-to-be-condemned place. But they were still expected to clean the joint to get a return on their deposit. Idea Man's suggestion? Buy three cans of white spray paint and paint that bathroom clean. Kid ya not. And it worked. So when he suggested I simply unzip the dress, create a v-neck line and stitch it in place, I thought, wow. This man is like a genius.

Which now brings me to the point in my post when I'm ready to share with you the Attack of the Food Processing Blade. Genius hubs was outta town and I decided to host a lil crafty get together. For which I got the grand idea to make hummus. Yeah. Even though you can buy it at the store for, oh, I dunno, 3 bucks? And I really got into it. I skinned a 30 ounce can of chick peas just for the occasion (yes, you read that correctly. It's actually kinda fun in a bubble-popping kind of way) threw 'em in the food processor with some lemon juice and tahini and, viola! Some seriously good hummus.

The day of the get together, I'm cleaning (which I only do when people are coming over...so it's like an all day event) and I drop that stupid food processing blade on my foot. It didn't even hurt and I didn't think much of it until I noticed my foot felt all warm and sticky. When I looked down, I almost fainted. There. Was. Blood. EVERYWHERE. It looked like an episode of Dexter. If Dexter was a complete idiot that dropped food processing blades on his feet. Now, I'm not a total dope, I did grab a cleanish towel, put my foot in the air and applied pressure. But it just wouldn't stop gushing blood. I convinced myself I was feeling faint decided to hobble all the way upstairs for a Band Aid. Because, in my deliriousness, I just knew that would fix it.

Oh look, an extra large photo of my veiny feet. Hawt.

In true Girl Scout Drop Out fashion, I couldn't find my first aid kit. Oh, who am I kidding, I don't even have a first aid kit. But I do have tampons. Which is what I applied to my foot before forcing my tampon'ed foot into a sock and shoe and zipping over to the walk in clinic. Thankfully, it turns out, I'd hit a vein, not an artery (which would have required surgery, what?!) and was good to go with two little stitches. Doc told me it'd leave a scar to which I replied, "What?! How will I continue my career as a foot model?!" At which point he looked from me to my foot several times before saying, "Really? No. Really?" 

"Um, my husband refers to them as 'troll feet', so what do you think?"

"No."

And that's why those doctors get paid the big ole bucks.

HOLY MOLY. This was the world's longest post. If you stuck around the for whole thing, give yourself a pat on the back. You've earned it. 

Until next time, stay away from food processors. They's cray cray.

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