DIY: Pirate Style

Apparently, I've much to learn about fashion. Today, I was told, "Mrs. Stephens, I like your pirate dress." Er, my what? "You're a pirate! Cuz that big black collar thingie makes you look like a one." Sweet.

Hiya and thank you for visiting my blog! I'm interrupting this post to say that I recently finished another embroidered dress which you can read about here: http://cassiestephens.blogspot.com/2012/02/turn-him-loose-jill.html

I thrifted this '70's era black sailor dress at the end of the summer. I'd been looking for a little sailor get-up and this seemed to do the trick...except for one tragic flaw. It was booorrrriiiing. If I'm going to wear something, it better be glittery, bedazzled, patternedy (a fashion term, look it up) and just overall over-the-top tacky. And I kinda fell asleep just looking at this number.

When I told a kindergartener today, "You look nice with your shirt tucked in," I was informed, "It's not called 'tucked in', it's called 'rodeo style'." Yeehaw.

I knew I wanted to alter it somehow but nothing was coming to me. Ideas never do when I sit down and focus on them. They usually come to me when I'm falling asleep or doing something extremely mundane, like attending a faculty meeting (haha! I kid!). So I had this dress hanging in my sewing room for ages just waiting for the idea to come.

Not too long ago, I woke up early, washed and straightened my hair and went to school bumpit-less. When my first class arrived, one of my fashion-savvy first graders said, "Where is the beautiful Mrs. Stephens? Your hair is so flat." Humph.

 This idea actually came from this lovely blog: http://misskatie-littleredsquirrel.blogspot.com/'' A couple of months ago she showcased a beautiful skirt that she had embroidered pin-up girls all over. I decided to do the same. Seeing as how my dress has a sailor style, I thought my little pin-ups would WW II era sailor girls.

The next day, when I had this same student in my class, I was OF COURSE wearing my biggest baddest bumpit. She was so thrilled that she decided to pat me on the head and say, "Good, Mrs. Stephens!" Little did she know that those bumpits have teeth and when she patted my head, they poked and startled her causing her to shriek and pull back her hand. Revenge is so sweet.

 I scoured pinterest for pin-ups and started sketching out and altering my girls. There weren't too many sailors girls to be found, so for some of these, I added sailor-esque details like the anchor and the steering wheel. I know it's not called that but I'm too lazy to find the correct term. Stern? That sounds right.

After a very in-depth demonstration on rainbow printing today, I asked my fourth graders if they had any questions. One student raised her hand and asked, "I just have to know, how many pairs of tights are you wearing right now?" Oh boy.

My favorite thing about working on this dress, aside from being done with it, was the people I met while working on it. I only work on embroidery while traveling. It gives me something to do in the car or on the plane. On a recent trip out to California, I took my embroidery and met two truly delightful women. Both were so excited when I took my work out. They had both embroidered in the past, one even worked as an embroidery designer in New York, and both lived during World War II. It was such a delight hearing their stories and receiving letters from them upon my return home. Chatting with them has me working on my next project. And, no, it's not a pirate's outfit!

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DIY: Sparkling Personality

 I've had my vintage paper doll collection stuffed in envelopes for months because I just couldn't think of a way to display them. So when Christmas rolled around and I was in a decorating frenzy, it came to me to dress my tree in vintage. 

I am about to go off on a wee bit of a rant. Before I do, I would like to preface my upcoming comments with the following bit of info. Try as I might, I do not have a Sparkling Personality. If it's morning, I am slumpy (that's sleepy + grumpy), before lunch I am often hangry (that's hunger induced anger) and in the evenings, I'm occasionally exhausticated (exhausted with a desire to self-medicate). This leaves just a few hours of the day for me to sparkle. And I'm no Edward Cullen, 'kay?

 While shopping in some little boutiques this past weekend, I saw the cutest ever glittery clothespins. For $25. Wait, what? Um, no. So I went to http://www.michaels.com/ and picked up these mini clothespins along with some finely ground glitter. I coated the top in Modge Podge, dipped in glitter, added another coat of M.P. and viola! Glittery Clothespins for under $5.

That being said, I have made one of my resolutions to "fake it till I make it". Meaning, to work through whatever unpleasant mood I am in and turn it around to a positive one. Of course, I do think that it is fine, maybe even healthy, to be grouchy, angry and grumpy at times...as long as it is not directed with the intent to hurt others. So that's my plan.

One of the items I did pick up at a local boutique. Some sweet little DIY paper chains made by this company http://www.eastofindia.co.uk/


Wow, so that was a lot of prefacing. Now on to the rant. When my family was in town this past weekend, we did some shopping in one of the cutest areas near my home, downtown Franklin. If you're not familiar, it has the feel of an old fashioned town square brimming with boutiques and restaurants. It's also a place where  you can "shop local", if you're into that sort of thing.

Since I loved seeing my dolls on the tree, I didn't want to pack them back into the envelopes just yet. I knew they needed a place in my sewing room but space is pretty tight, as you can see. So I assembled my paper chains, attached the ladies with my glitter clothespins, and strung them above my framed collection of vintage notions. 

I was sad to see that several of the shop keepers/employees where just plain rude to us. When we entered several of the stores, we were not greeted or asked if we needed help. In fact, when we did approach some folk, it seemed that we were a real bother as they were texting or browsing on their computer. I have a habit of calling out "thank you!" when I leave a shop which was met on two occasions with a grunt.

Not wanting to put more nail holes in the wall (which already looks like a shooting range), I put stick pins in the wall and hung the chains over them.

As stated earlier, I'm not so great at masking my moods so I can relate to crankiness. But, really. With little local shops sinking faster than the Titanic, you'd think they'd work a little harder on their customer service. So I'm not sporting a name brand pair of heels or a headful of hundred dollar highlights. What I am carrying is a no-name brand purse with a knockoff wallet inside chuck full of Christmas cash I'm ready to spend. But not at your shop.

The funny thing is, I've never been treated like that when I walk into the franchise shops. Starbucks is one of the friendliest places around. It's no wonder to me that the little chocolate and coffee shop that was once next door where I was treated like dirt is no longer around. And good riddance.

It's not like I'm asking these people to go nuts when I enter the store, just fake it. Fake it till you make it. There, rant over.

Now, let me tell you about the shops in downtown Franklin that are local and experts at customer service. Here's a list of my favorite, always polite, strongly recommended shops: The Shoppes on Main http://www.theshoppesonmain.net/

Binks Outfitters http://www.binksoutfitters.com/

And, my favorite, The What's In Store http://www.whats-in-store.com/

Happy Shopping!

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Summertime...

Summertime in the Sixties

  Clockwise starting with the blurry laughing lady: Grandma Marilyn, Grandpa John (who appears to be tweaking my grandma), Uncle Keith, Aunt Donna, my mother (guess who I inherited my big mouth from) and my Aunt Lottie in the middle.

I'm down to the hours before my summer vacay begins. I absolutely cannot wait. The first week off from school, I'm always so gung ho: waking up early, scratching items off my to-do list, cooking, cleaning, yard working. By the second week, that's all pretty much ended and I slide into my summertime routine.

 Mom getting her belly rubbed by Grandma while it looks as though someone's about to cool off my Grandpa. I would love see a Part 2 to this photo as my drenched Grandpa chases after who I assume was my Uncle Keith.

My real summer routine involves sleeping in, eating ice cream at least twice daily, reading trashy Brit-chic novels and thrifting. Every school year I day dream of all of the things I am going to accomplish during the summer and every summer I manage to do a whole lotta nuthin. But this summer is gonna be different.

Summertime in the Seventies

Left to right: Me, Cuz Angie, Aunt Judy. My Grandpa Eddy made our dining table and chairs. I love the red wagon and the Sit -n- Spin in the background.

And when I say "different" it's not because I plan to change or improve or actually do something about my lack of accomplishment. I plan to embrace the laziness. Love it. Wrap my arms around it and squeeze it. I mean, it's what summer is all about, right? At the end of every summer, I always beat myself up over not accomplishing this or that. Not any more.

Summertime in the Eighties
My Grandma Marilyn and Grandpa Eddy (her second hubs after G-pa John) took the three of us girls to Florida almost every summer growing up. She sent this postcard to mom.

My Grandma loved Florida...and I love that she signed the postcard "Florida People". I miss those summers with her.

My to-do list is going to involve the following: catching up with friends, watching some old movies (Hitchcock, preferably)  and eating deep fried snack foods with reckless abandon because they are delicious. Oh, and doing silly stuff with cat hair. For this, hubs and I decided to get a jump-start...

Um, yeah. That's all Asha hair. She's been shedding (and hairballing) like madness lately, so Mitch decided to give her a little brushing. We're planning on opening our own Troll Doll factory.

Needless to say, Asha was not impressed with our creative endeavor. I can read her kitty-cat mind: Boy, it's gonna be a long summer.

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