What the Art Teacher Wore #147

 A Purple-ish Monday: So, thanks to our fab-o kindergarten teachers, we're still dressing in colors! Monday was purple day and, as it turns out, I must not like purple because there is next to nuthin of it in my closet. Which is really saying something because my closet, as you mightah guessed, is jam-packed with clothes. So this lil purplish ensemble was as close as I could get! dress: vintage, Buffalo Exchange; headscarf: vintage, thrifted; shoes: my new favorite! Minnetonka

I hope all y'all are having a wondrous three day weekend! Just so you know, when I become Princess Cassie, Ruler of the Universe and BEYOND, I will make three day weekends the law. No longer will poor ole Monday be that dreaded day of the week. In fact, I'll have it's name changed to Mon-YAY! and change Tuesday to "Tuesday, You Suck!" It's a working name. Don't judge. 

In other news, since this is a What the Art Teacher Wore post, lemme tell you what happened to me on Monday. As I was putting my students on the bus, one fourth grade girl stopped, looked me up and down and said:

"Mrs. Stephens, I have art tomorrow. Can you try and wear something more crazy?" 

Me, stunned: "What's wrong with this?!" with a flourish of my hand going from my purple-bowed head down to my hot pink moccasin-ed toes. 

"Eh. It's just kind of, you know, bor-ing."

Y'all. My critics are not foolin' around. You better believe I did it up right on Tuesday. 

Speaking of doing it up right, my email inbox has been BURSTING with photos of the World's Best Dressed Art Teachers! The What the Art Teacher Wore/Back to Art Teacherin' Contest goes live on the blog this coming Tuesday. That means if you wanna see your sweet face here (and possibly in School Arts Magazine!), email me some snaps at cassieart75@gmail.com. Be sure to check back here on Tuesday and cast your vote for the best dressed! 

 Just a couple of sweet snaps of my first grade friends for y'all this week. I can't wait to share their masterpieces with you! All of my students are currently "in the jungle" and learning about the work of Henri Rousseau. If you follow me here, you've seen quite a few of  their pieces. I'll share the complete lessons here in the next couple of weeks so stay tuned! 

 Lovin' the focus on this sweet boy's face! Now that my firsties have finished their works, they are creating a jungle mural to place their artwork in. My plan is to have that up by open house. Cross those fingers for me, would ya?

 Bust Out the Brown Tuesday: I seriously think I just grabbed anything brown and threw it on that morning. I had that vintage skirt in my etsy shop for a hot minute before I decided I loved it too much to sell off. sweater, belt and blouse: vintage, thrifted; skirt: vintage, Buffalo Exchange; shoes: Minnetonka; sweater clip: etsy

 A Colorful Way to Wear Black Wednesday: I didn't wanna wear head to toe black cuz, ya know, I already did the "alternative" thang in high school so I'm over it. Isn't funny how what we called "alternative" has gone threw so many name changes? There was goth then emo and now, what do they call those all-black-wearin' kids? Hipsters? Goth-Hipsters? Gothsters? Yes! That's it! dress: Modcloth; polymer necklace: Charleston; shoes: Swedish Has-beens, Anthro; Rainbow Brite belt: Buffalo Exchange

 White Day is Not a Good Day in the Art Room: Yeah, so who guessed that wearing this all white number was gonna end badly? I didn't even realize it did until I got home, took it off and noticed I had green paint splotches on the butt of my dress. I'm guessing I sat in something fun-n-funky. Good times. dress: Anthro

 Fave Color Friday: C'mon. I'm the art teacher! I can't pick one FAVE color, I love 'em all! And, let's be real, they all look SO GOOD TOGETHER, right?! You don't have to answer that. top and skirt: thrifted; bow tie and suspenders: gift from my bro; belt and crinoline: Amazon; shoes: Minnetonka

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DIY: A Big Fat Knitted Scarf/Blanket Thingie

 Have you ever found yourself neck-deep in a craft and been like, "Ugh, why am I doing this?! I hate {insert least fave craft here. Like friendship bracelet braiding for zample. Man, I never could get the hang of that. Which was fine cuz I only had, like, two friends growing up and one of them was imaginary. Okay, they both were}." This reminder of my distaste for knitting flared up big time whilst I was in the midst of casting on and promptly de-casting (un-casing? non-casting? whateves) the hot mess that was on my knitting needles. When I finally DID get myself rollin' in the right direction, I was all, "wait, what? Who am I and why am I holding these knitting needles?!" And by that time, well, it was just too late. 

In all seriousness, knitting isn't that bad. I mean, it's great for traveling cuz I feel like I'm all productive and stuff, just knitting away in the passenger seat. Normally, I'm passed out like a drunk sailor when we go road trippin, but while knitting, I'm actually getting something done. Even if that something is creating a Big Fat Knitted Scarf/Blanket Thangie. I mean, seriously, y'all. Have you ever seen a scarf that wanted so badly to be a blanket? I've nicknamed it my Blarf for that very reason. 

So why knit if I dislike it so? Cuz when I visited these precious babies a while back, I bought some alpaca yarn from their owner. I mean, I got to meet the sweet lil girl that the yarn came from and everything! How could I not knit something with that?

And, okay, can I just tell you how very much I love the smell of alpaca wool? I might have a Blarf-sniffing problem. Ima bout to be the next Mary Catherine Gallagher...

'Cept instead of the hands-previously-in-armpits sniffing, I'll be alpaca-Blarf-huffing. Which is prolly equally as weird, I know.

 But really how could something this cute not smell precious? Daw, would you just wook at dat sweet widdle face-y wace-y!

Whilst at the farm, I bought myself three skeins of alpaca wool. On the way home, I scored some cream colored wool at the Joann's, aka where-I-deposit-my-paycheck. I had this Anthropologie throw in mind for my scarf. I loved the stripe-y look and the size of the thing. Just right for a scarf, dontcha think?

The thing really is a monster but that's kinda what I love about it. It's ridiculously large but that's part of the charm, says me. Also, I figured once I get tired of the thing I can simply unravel it. I used a super simple garter stitch (which is the most basic of knit stitches, y'all) because of my limited intelligence. It's good to know your limitations, says moi.

Speaking of Anthropologie, when I was going through their most recent catalog, I totes cracked up at this photo. OMG, this model is SO OVER knitting, y'all. There are so many things that I absolutely love about this photo that I must share them all with you in bullet-y bullet points:

* Obvi this model has never knitted before, right? I mean, would you look at how she's holding those needles? You know the photog was just all, "Hey, hold these needles and act like you're knitting" and the model was all, "Man, I dunno how to knit!" and dude was all, "Me neither! Just hold 'em and look exhausted." BOOM. Nailed it.

* Should we be concerned that this poor girl appears to be housed in someone's woodshed? She appears a little thin and tired looking, albeit exquisitely dressed (thanks, Anthro!). What if she's being held hostage in some rando woodshed in some rando backyard? My neighbor has a shed, y'all. And I have seen him throw balls of yarn into the shed and yell, "Get back to knitting!" before but I never really thought anything of it. Come to think of it, it's prolly nothing.

* I did a little math. Added total cost of that knitting ensemble? $622.56. It costs a lot to look that good whilst not knitting, y'all. 

 Despite the fact that knitting's not my fave, I really REALLY wanna learn how to knit a sweater. Do you guys knit? Can you come over to my woodshed, er, house and teach me your magical knit-witting ways?! 

Oh and speaking of Anthro, that tulle skirt is one I created based on an overpriced version of theirs! You can read about my tulle-making madness here. 

Until next time! Hope y'all have a fantastical knit-free week!

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DIY: In the Kitchen (You Know, that Weird Room that Came with the House)

Lemme just be honest with you: cooking is not really my thang. Because when I'm hungry, I like to eat. Like, that very moment. So playing around with the cutting and the chopping and the measuring spoons (where I have to stop and think "wait, what does TBSP mean again?!") isn't my idea of a good time. Naw, I'm more into the eat-a-bowl-of-cereal-and-move-on scene.

Howevers, there's this dude that lives in my house who seems to enjoy a hot cooked meal now and then. I don't know why. I blame his makin'-food-from-scratch mother. 

For that reason, I force myself to cook at least two giant meals a week. What we don't eat, that aforementioned dude and I freeze into lunch-sized portions and dinner-sized meals. A coupla years ago, we stopped eating meat (well, he did. I can't seem to give up sushi which is kinda like food-crack so it's not my fault) which means I gotta be creative with the meal planning. Because, as much as we've tried, one cannot survive on Butter Noodles alone. 

Now, not all vegetarian recipes are created equally. Some taste like, well, boiled down celery stalks and gym socks. With a TBSP of wheat germ. So when you come across a good one, you wanna keep it. For that reason, I recently started jotting down my fave recipes. I settled on this sweet little recipe box a buddy had given me to house my new recipes in.

Like, super cute, right? And while I totes love anything vintage, there was something about this that I just didn't love. So I decided to give it a fresh coat of paint.

But here's the deal: I wanted to keep the carved lettering of the box the original wood grain color. To make that happen, I used a little paint roller and simply rolled over the front of the box. This (for the most part) prevented the paint from completely covering the designs. And, done.

For the recipe cards, I decided to use the postcards I'd purchased from Anthro. I scored 'em at their 1/2 off the sale price sale (which is like Christmas only better because you don't have to be around family to score the goods) and I used a stash of vinyl stickers I found in my craft stash for the labels.

Yes, one of those recipes is for Krispy Kreme Donuts. Vegetarian Meal of Choice, yo.

By the way, I learned how to not cook by one of the best non-cookers I know, my crazy mama! This is a super rare photo of us for a coupla reasons: 1. We're in the kitchen (I think we got lost); 2. Mom's holding a cookbook (definitely a photo prop as this book looks like it's never been opened); 3. We're smiling. Which isn't unusual. Unless we're cooking. In which case we're usually cursing and calling each other names. And then ordering pizza.

And now my recipe box has a home! But, let's be honest, the only reason I'm showing you this cupboard is so you can look on in jealousy at my newly acquired ceramic bird house collection. Drooling yet? Again, that Anthro sale was nutz, ya'll! Got each house for about $20 each. I love 'em so.

If you were in my kitchen right now, you'd find dishes in my sink, an overweight cat tiptoeing on the counter scouring for scraps and this new painting hanging above the window!

I got this really cool, super long frame years ago and promptly painted it black and added this flower. It hung in our bedroom for a while but recently decided that I wanted it for a new sign in the kitchen. So, before I could change my mind (cuz I really did like that flower!), I repainted it black and started planning my new sign.

I measured the length of the sign, divided that by the number of letters in the word "Tennessee" and scoured the interwebs for a fun and funky retro font. I settled on this and began sketching our my lettering. Each letter was then cut out and traced into place on the black panel with a white colored pencil.

(This is how our dining room table always looks. And no, that's not an ashtray. I'm not allowed to smoke in the house.)

 Now I was gonna paint each letter outline...until I had flash backs of this and this lettering experience and decided that I was being ridiculously cray-cray. So I dropped by the craft store and picked up a couple of those white paint pens and just traced my pencil lines. WHAT?! So super easy, ya'll.

Now, I gotta admit, I'm still not certain that this is complete. The letters seem a little...empty? I don't think I wanna fill 'em in necssarily...but maybe just add a little design on the inside? A buddy of mine who has far better taste than me (which, honestly, wouldn't take much) said to leave it. Whatcha'll (translation: "What Do You All") think? Ideas? Thoughts? TBSP of Wheat Germ?

Alright, my friends. That's all I got. Now, unless you plan on doin' those dishes, ya'll best get outta my kitchen!

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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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DIY: Bedazzled Bobbie Pins

I think a hand-written letter is one of my favorite things in the world. Not only do I keep just about every note I've ever received, but I also have a thing for collecting the letters of others. In fact, last year I was inspired by old letters to create these two paintings. My favorite line in the letter above: You must surely write to me here as sometime the time hangs heavily passes slowly and I like to then, more than ever, read something from U.S.A. So poetic, that Fred!

 So, have I ever told you the story about the time I got busted taking photos inside of Anthropologie? I don't even remember what I was snapping a picture of but I do recall attempting to be all stealthy-like with my camera phone. You know, pretending to dial while preparing to snap away. The prob? I had never figured out how to silence that stupid fake camera click. And as soon as I took a couple pictures sounding every bit like a crazed paparazzi outside Lindsay Lohan's latest rehab clinic, I knew I was done. The once super-sweet Anthro girl who was arranging the two hundred dollar dresses on the rack froze and turned around slowly with one eye brow raised and lips pursed.

"Excuse me, but are you taking PICTURES? Because we do not allow people to take PICTURES in Anthropologie."

"Oh! So sorry! Um, it was my phone. It makes picture-taking sounds..."

"You mean when it's taking PICTURES."

"Um, yeah. I guess."

Eye roll and sigh. Don't ask me how she managed to do that with her eyebrow raised. Must be an Anthro thing. "Please, do not take any more PICTURES." 

 Oh, look, sweetie, I don't need to! I can just pull them from your website. These clips are currently going for $28 for a group of four. Which is too much for something I will most likely lose to a coat pocket, counter top or down the sink drain. And I wonder why the doggone thing gets stopped up.

On a recent shopping trip to Anthro with a buddy (having one less than a mile from my school has become super duper dangerous), I was recounting the above tale. Because I'm a notorious loud talker, one of the Anthro girls, who'd yet to perfect her snotty face, interjected, "You can take all the pictures you want in here!" 

Wait, what?

"Yeah, we were told to allow people to take pictures of whatever they want. I mean, it's not like they are going to open up their own Anthropologie."

"Ha, right? Or copy everything and blog about it!"

"Exactly!" 

A friend at work gave me a huge bag of old broken jewelry. I didn't have a clue what to do with it until I saw those hair clips. Armed with my hot glue gun and jewelers tools, I set to work with some ribbon, babbles and bobbie pins.

 But not just any bobbie pins. I picked these up at the craft store. Because I didn't think that wee circle would be large enough to hold my bedazzles, I also bought small cork circles to attach to the bobbie pin circle. This gave me a larger surface to glue my jewels to.

 For some reason, as I was creating these, I made them into miniature groupings. Probably because that's how they are sold at Anthro. When they were finished, I thought: How sweet would a grouping of these be as Valentine's Gifts? The above are apart of the Shy Bathing Suit Girl set.

 Little back story: hubs saw this photo and informed me that the long lost key hot glued to one of the clips was one that belonged to his grandfather. Apparently one of the few things he brought back from World War II was this wood crafted box from Africa that can only be opened with, you guessed it, my hair clip key. Oops.

 Last year, I bought a grouping of vintage teacher Valentines off etsy. Each one is painstakingly signed by a student with a name like "Marsha" or "Deborah" on the back. These bobbie pins were created with beads from an old necklace and velvet ribbon from my stash.

 

 And I think they might be too cute to give away. I kinda sorta have a secret love affair with red and leopard print. I'm trying to keep it on the down low but it's really starting to show in my wardrobe. Whatcha gonna do? Ya can't stop true love.

Oh! And P.S. the right is a sneak peak at next week's DIY, eep!

 If you look closely at the blue jeweled piece, that is actually two different broken pieces of jewelry put together. Because they were both pretty unstable, I attached a cork circle to the bobbie pin, covered it in pink ribbon and glued the jewels to the top. The dog looks pretty happy. The awkward placement of the boy's foot is kinda freakin' me out though.

I scooped up these vintage postcards of Nuremburg during my trip there this summer. I love this grouping of hair clips with the velvety moss green and the pale pink. You'll notice that many of these hair-cessories are just broken jewels glued to the 'pins. Easy.

 Put a bird on it. Seriously, do I ever NOT put a bird on something? It's a disease, people. I'm bird-anorexic.

So let's say you wanna make some bedazzled bobbie pins of your own...you see it's super easy. And the best places to find broken jewels: the thrift store, your junk draw and your mom's old jewelry box. Just avoid anything that looks like an old key. Trust me on that one.

And the next time you are in Anthro, remember to snap a couple pictures for me!

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