DIY: The "Uh, Are You an Art Teacher?" Ensemble

The other night I was meeting up with a group of non-art-teacher buddies (yes, I have those. Two, actually, thank ya vury much) for dinner. I was just coming from my first day back at school so I was in my normal art teacherin' garb. Paint palette in mah hair, pencil-y shoes, some sort of embarrassingly obvious art teacher dress...you know, the norm. When I wear this wacky tackiness, I honestly don't think twice about it. In fact, I often forget that I look rather ridiculous. My non-art-teacher buddies, however, never forget. 

NATB: When we go out, people seriously look at you funny.

Clueless Me: No they don't!  

NATB: Um, yes they do. It's like they are trying to decide, "Is this a crazy person? Does she realize there are crayons in her hair and she's out in public?!" And you don't even notice!

Okay, so I totally thought this was bogus until yesterday. I got it in my big fat art-teacherin head that I needed to create some miniature art supplies. I'd seen some amazing ones here (gah, y'all! This artist must have magical fairy fingers!) and was totes inspired. So I ran to the nearest big box craft shop and loaded up on Sculpey. When I got up to the register, I realized I didn't have my teacher ID for a discount. Then this went down:

Me: I'm sorry, I don't have my school ID. Can I please get a teacher discount?

Not-Looking-Up-From-Scanning-Countless-Sculpey-Blocks Check Out Chick: You have to be a teacher.

Me: I am a teacher, I promise! I just left my ID at school. 

Still-Preoccupied Check Out Chick: I'm sorry but I don't have any way of knowing if you're really a teacher. 

Me (remembering my convo with NATB): Look at me.

Check Out Chick, startled: Huh? Oh. Wow (taking in that number above). So, you're an art teacher, huh? Kay, I believe you!

And I actually think she gave me double the discount, y'all. As she should all crazy art teachers.

Thank goodness for that wee discount otherwise Ida never been able to make these mini-masterpieces. You know, cuz every approaching-middle-age lady needs a set of Art Supply Shoe Clips, amiright? More on those in a minute, for now, let's talk about that discount-gettin dress, shall we?

You might recognize this fab fabric from my Dreaded Art Supply Order post (which I will be posting a revision of. Y'all made SO MANY super duper suggestions that I've already rewritten my order!). I decided to pair it with some orange and red chevron fabric I thrifted years ago that were curtains in it's previous life.

As for a dress pattern, I settled on that 1970's number on the left. I totes loved the bodice (I fer realz have a thing for dresses with a midriff band. In case you've not noticed every-freakin-dress-I-stitch has a midriff band. Band? Belt? Thangie? You know what I mean). However, I wasn't loving the skirt options. Here's the deal, that mini is just a lil too mini. I don't believe in shaving above my knee caps so I pretty much look like an orangutan from there up. Just ask the hubs. Good thing he's into primates. As for the maxi, y'all, I can't do a maxi in the art room. Every time I squat in a maxi (um, that sounded bad. I mean squat down to pick something up off the ground, not like, to pee outside or something. I may look like an orangutan but I'm not an animal, geesh), I inevitably step on my hem, start to stand and fall over. It's quite classy. For that reason, I decided to go with my skirt standby, good ole Project Runway Simplicity 0320.

Now, let's address the big fat hairy elephant in the room...those 1970's bat wings...

Yeah, those. Y'all know I'm not really a lover of stitching sleeves but I was willing to forego my hate for these guys. I mean in the sketch they looked so hippie and cute! In fact when I wore this dress the other day, all my flower-power teacher buddies reminisced about the dress they had as teens with "wings". However, these guys should really come with some sorta warning label. The entire time I wore this dress, I could see those wings outta my peripheral view and kept swatting at 'em. Once I thought there was a bug on me, another time a bird and I swear I even saw a group of dancing bears. But that was after accidentally consuming some of that Sculpey clay (hazards of eating and crafting). So there's that.

I also have decided that absolutely no dress is complete without pockets. However, I really hate where the pocket are placed in this particular dress pattern. It's impossible to have your hands in your pockets and NOT look like you are piddling (scroll upward, y'all and tell me I'm lying). I opted to use some more of that chevron for pocket town.

Oh! Can we talk about that vintage pattern for a pinch? Cuz it was just about the weirdest pattern I've ever used. Tell me if you find this odd: it had me separately create the front and back of the dress...

And then stitch the front and back together at the side seams. Huh? I mean, I've always done it where you make your bodice and your skirt and attach those together. I actually kinda liked it this way as it made gathering the skirt portion a lot less taxing. I just found it kind of odd...have y'all every sewn a dress this way? What are some of the pros and cons cuz I'm thinking of going down this road again when it comes to other dress patterns.

Oh, look, crafting shrapnel. This is what you don't want your dinner table lookin like, FYI. Not unless you want Dancing-Bears-on-Shoulders hallucinations. 

To make these into shoe clips (and sweater, hair, nipple, whatever clips) I simply glued a little alligator clip on the back. I'm kinda addicted to making these right now (well, as of last night) but I'm in need of more mini-suggestions. Whatcha got for me?

And there you have it, kids! An ensemble that will most definitely get you stares and the occasional discount. Off to see if it'll work at the liquor store! 

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DIY: Stenciled Embroidery

 I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a songwriter. It's true. Do you really think Emimen came up with all those lyrics on his own? I'm the real Real Slim Shady, ermkay. Don't believe me? Well then, lemme share with you a song I've been workin' on. It's a little tune I like to call The Thus Far Days of Summer Vacay: 

On the first day of vacay,

My summer gave to me

A busted ankle swollen to the size of a panda babe-ee.

On the second of vacay,

My summer gave to me

Flashbacks of last summer when I dropped a food processing blade on the same foot

and a busted ankle swollen to the size of a cat babe-ee 

(which I know is called a kitten but that didn't rhyme so bear with me)

On the third day of vacay

My summer gave to me

A visit to the doctor who said I bruised my ankle bone (what?!)

Flashbacks of last summer when I dropped a food processing blade on the same foot

and a busted ankle swollen to the size of, well, nothing. It healed. End of song.

I do hope your summer is off to a better bruised-boneless start, ya'll!

The hubs and I, when not busting ankles, have found ourselves on the road aplenty thus far. And, as I've chatted about before, one of my fave travel crafts is embroidery (you can read all sorts of fascinating embroideryness here, here and here, kids). Howevers, at the time of said hittin'-the-road-ness, I had nothing in the works. So, on a whim, I grabbed this thrifted stenciled piece with the idea that I'd improve upon it's half-a##'ed stencil-ness as seen above.

 Whatcha see here is a half embroidered piece. On the left side is the original state and on the right is the embroidered upon. Not to sound like a bragosaurus but, despite what the photo shows, the embroidery is a big improvement to the formerly just-stenciled state of the fabric.

See? I told ya's.

Which got me thinking. When I gave my students an End of the School Year survey (an In the Art Room post to come, ya'll), many of them wrote that they wanted to learn more weaving, sewing and "handcrafts", as one put it. I was thrilled to hear that since I loves me some fiber arts (and totally enjoyed teaching it this year!). However, teaching embroidery takes 4.Eve.Rrr...R. And sometimes the results are small due to the size of the stitching and the limited amount of patience (on behalf of both artist and art teacher). 

So, after working on this piece, I had the thought, "Why not have them stencil a design then embroider?" Actually, that's not what I thought at all. What I really thought was, "Why am I thinking about school, IT'S SUMMER!" And then I reminded myself that this is a blog where I pretend that I eat, drink and breathe art education and I needed to shut up before those five folks that read this catch on. 

Oops. Too late.

Ahem. What was I saying? It appears that I fell asleep and that some evil Summer-Loving Art Teacher Maniac took over for a moment. My apologies. 

For this here activity, you're gonna need to gather up the following:

• Stencils. I had these pre-mades from JoAnn's in my stash
• Fabric Paint. Left overs from this dress. 
• Fabric. I just used random bits from my scrap bin.
• Embroidery hoops.
• Stencil sponges. In a pinch, I used my makeup wedges as that's all I had on hand.
• Embroidery floss.
• Embroidery needle.

 Because just stenciling one color would be a snooze-fest, I decided to do a little color blend. I think the kids could handle that. Well. Maybe.

 The trick is watching where you stamp so you don't flip that wedge. Because a flipped wedgie just sounds terrible.

 Here's something interesting I noticed: the thicker the plastic stencil, the more underneath bleeding of the paint. The super thin stencils actually worked much better and produced a much more crisp image. Hmm. Not what I was expecting.

 Have you ever embroidered before? I'm gonna assume you've not. So lemme introduce to you The Running Stitch:

1.  Embroidery floss comes in strands of 6 pieces of floss (or thread). Cut your desired length (I usually go from hand to shoulder and clip) and separate 2 strands of floss from the 6. Do this slowly as the floss loves to tangle.

2. Ideally, you should run those two combined strands of embroidery floss over a lump of wax. Bee's wax is preferred. This will prevent the floss from tangling. And tangling sux.

3. Thread your needle with those bee's wax-y stands of floss and double knot one end. Frame your piece in an embroidery hoop. Starting from the back, poke your needle up at your starting point.

 4.  Go about a quart inch and dive your needle down. I'm using mine to outline the edge of the flower. You do whatever you want. Make veins for your leaves, fill in a shape, whatevers. Just be certain to pull that needle down until the knot on the back stops it.

 5.  Now for the next stitch, jump ahead a quarter inch and pop up pulling completely.

 6. And go backward to fill in that gap.

 7.  For your third stitch, pop up from the end of your last stitch. The reason you didn't do this previously is because you would be taking a stitch out. You see, you can never have your needle come out of a hole it just went into, it will take the stitch out. However, it works here because your previous stitch had gone backward. Say what? I don't know, I'm just as confused as you are. Let's keep stitching.

 8.  When you get to the point where your thread is as long as half the length of your hand, it's time to tie off and reload your needle. To tie off, flip your embroidery to the back. Slide your needle under a nearby stitch.

 9.  Pull slightly until there is only a loop of embroidery floss left. Then reverse that needle and go through that loop. Do this twice. That will create a secure knot.

Confused? Me too. Youtube it, kids.

 And there you go! You are on your way to a stenciled embroidery! I'm really excited to play around with this idea of combining these two techniques into one project for the kids. 

What are your thoughts? Got any awesome ideas you'd like to share? Please enlighten this bruised-bone barbarian, would ya?! 

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DIY: A Splatter-Paintin'/Jackson Pollock-y Hybrid Dress

Oh mah goodness, the dress that's been haunting my sewing room for ages is finally complete! Paired with my DIY palette hair clip and some sparkly flats from Anthropologie.

I'll have you know that I'm one of those super duper annoying people that tells the same joke over and over. AND, if you don't laugh the first time, Ima gonna assume it's not because you don't find me highly entertaining, it's just that your ears are broken and you're kinda dumb. Therefore, said not-worthy-of-a-laugh joke will be repeated, this time only louder and slower for your listening (dis)pleasure.

Dudes, when am I gonna learn to work this lil point-n-shoot camera of mine correctly? I mean, this photo's got more grain that a bowl of FiberOne.

Case in point: When I wore this dress on our final day of Painting Processes in the art room. Details of that Super Happy Fun Insanity to come but until then, lemme break it down for ya: 20 children + paint + instruments of mass painting destruction = one awesomely painted mess.  So my repeated joke of choice to anyone who happened to venture into the art room mid-madness? 

"My dress was actually white this morning!"

When my hilarity was met with a blank stare, I restated my standup routine this time explaining my joke. Because that always helps:

"You know. It was white. And then it got paint on it. [unchanged blank stare = digging myself into an even bigger unfunny joke hole] Because, with all the glue huffing, the kids went kinda bonkers, tied me down and splattered paint all over me."

And just when I think I mighta gotten through to Super-Slow-Joke-Getter, some kid'll blow it and shout across the room, "Nuh huh! We don't even know how to tie!"

While I'm pretty pleased with the fit and finish, I'm not loving the wrinkled look of the red midriff. Whassup? I'm guessin my interfacing should not have been an adhesive one. My thought is that the adhesive is causing the midriff to wrinkle. What do you think, sewing sistahs?

Yeah. So I guess I won't be quittin' my day job and takin' my standup out on the road. Cuz knowing my luck, I'd have my students in the audience razzing me the whole time. Which is kinda like my everyday life. Seriously! In fact, just yesterday when I said, "Okay, kids, it's time to start cleaning up." One of my fourth graders raised his hand and said:

"Mrs. Stephens, we don't clean on Fridays. We have the day off. Sorry."

I. Get. No. Respect.

Le sigh. Let's chat about this new dress o' mine shall we? Before I fall into a deep dark nobody-likes-me/everybody-hates-me/why-don't-I-just-eat-dirt depression. I got the notion that I needed some Back-to-School dresses and scooped several yards of this splattery fabric a month ago. I quickly began working on the bodice using this well-loved Simplicity pattern of mine.

 

Then I decided to break up all that splattery goodness a bit. For this idea, I used the wide waist band from my vintage Simplicity pattern. After the bodice was complete, I seriously had 6 yards of the fabric left. Just enough to try my hand at my very first circle skirt with that vintage Butterick pattern on the right. With the use of three patterns, it's like a ménage à trois dress. But without the awkward sleeping arrangement.

Can you believe the size of this thing?! I loved that I didn't have to mess with any gathering business as I've done with so many other dresses...until I had to hem this beast. And I wasn't about to do that by hand. Are you kidding me? I ran that thing through my machine as fast as I could and it still took me up to an hour to complete.

I'm thinking I need a brand new, extra fluffy crinoline to showcase the endless yards of splattery goodness, don't you think?

 

Because this fabric totally has a Jackson Pollock thing happening, I got this crazy notion to create a dress for each of our Artists of the Month. If you recall, I created this little number when the kids were learning about Hokusai last month and now I've got this Pollock-y frock complete. The only prob? Andy Warhol is our featured artist this month! Which means I've got some work to do...but at least I've got Pollock ready when his month comes up. My goal by the end of the school year is to have created 10 artist-themed dresses. Wish me luck, ya'll.

Oh! And those Painting Processes I was telling you about? Well, here's what the art room tables looked like before...

...and by the end of the day. Take a close look at that once-white table covering. Looks just like the fabric of my dress, doncha think? Next time, I'm just throwing some white cotton cloth on the tables, ya'll.

At the rate the kids are going, I'll have enough fabric to create several of these Splatter-Paintin'/Jackson Pollock-y dresses. Stay tuned for more details of our Painting Processes in the art room. Until then, have a fantasticly splatterific week!

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DIY: A 1960s Diner Dress or Why I Think Butterick 5708 is the Devil

 I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and say that if there ever was a contest titled "Best Waitress Outfit for Trashy 1960s Roadside Diner", I'm sorry, but I would totally win. Like, don't even bother submittin' your entries cuz just look at this thing. It's like Bob Evans and Kentucky Fried Chicken got together and had a 1960s love child that actually turned out not to be a child at all but a dress (which is weird, I know, but that's just the kind of scientific anomaly this dress is. Seriously.)

 Where was I again? Oh yes, First Place Winner. Thank you very much.

 Ermkay, so hubs says I can't wear this dress to school because one of the bottles says "Hot as Hell" on it. I say nonsense. Learning that hell is one hot place just might improve the discipline in my art room, doncha think? You might remember me showing off this fabric here, along with my other Michael Miller retro barbeque themed fabric. 

I decided to pair the fabric with mustard yellow and red gingham. Because it just says Class, don't you think? That red gingham gives me flashbacks to my short-lived-because-I-was-super-sucky days as a waitress at Pizza Hut. Dude, not a single shift would go by when I didn't forget to put in someone's pizza order (I think I was secretly trying to do them a favor, but did they see it as such? Nooooo. Some people are just so ungrateful). Next thing you know, it's an hour later, their kids are screaming and they are barking at me all "Where's our pizza?!" and I'm all "It'll be right out!" as I stick my hand in my apron pocket to find the order ticket I forget to turn in. I convinced whoever was on shift with me that I was sick and needed to spend approximately 20 minutes in the bathroom and could they take care of table 23 for me, please?! Needless to say, I was the only waitress to ever get tipped...in pennies.

All the different ways you can wear the bodice of Butterick 5708. 

You wanna know what sucks more than my waitressing skills? Butterick 5708. That's what. 

Look, I don't know who Mrs. Butterick is but I can tell you this, she's one ambiguous b-- oh crap, are there under 12-ers reading? Fine: butthead. Granted, I'm still a very green sewer so I'm used to my sweet Simplicity patterns holding my hand, telling me which direction to iron my seams, how to understitch, making sure I brush my teeth before bed. Meanwhile, ole Butterick is all, "Oh, you know. Just make the bodice...if you can."

I think I'll stick to wearing my dress either tied at the shoulders (top photo) or pulled over the shoulders and tied at the chest as seen on the left. I love the idea of wearing the dress one shouldered, but to do so you gotta tie the fabric under your arm which made me feel like I had a giant underarm tumor growth. Not a great feeling.

 Confession: When I sew, I have conversations with whatever I'm working on. Most of these convos take place in my head so it's all good and hubs doesn't know what a crazy person I am (yes he does). However, this time around, it got a little loud.

Since the dress wasn't enough craziness, I decided to create my own shoes to match.

  I was working away on this dress when I thought to myself, you know, this dress isn't so bad. I'll just finish off this bodice, add the gathered skirt and--

Butterick: Ahem. Gurl, you got a lot left to do. You better slow your roll.

Me: Um, excuse me? I don't know if I'm more confused by your talking or the fact that you just said "slow your roll". Who says that?

Butterick: Paris Hilton.

Me: What?! That doesn't even make sense! She says stuff like, "that's hawt" and "ohmygurd" and other pre-rehab nonsense. You are full of lies, Butterick!

Butterick: What. Ever.

...and these are types of conversations I have WITH A DRESS PATTERN.

And while you digest that bit of craziness, let's talk about how I made these shoes, shall we? I started with this rather dull pair of wedges I snagged on the cheap. Armed with some gingham, an Exacto knife and good ole Aleene, I followed my own DIY shoe tutorial here.

 I wasn't in love with just the raw fabric edge on the shoe so I decided to add some rickrack. Using a hot glue gun, I drew a super small bead of glue around the tip and bottom of the shoe before attaching the rickrack. That patent leather top of the shoe looked a little too Golden Girls Grandma to me so I decided to bedazzle it with some bows.

 Making these bows is a snap. After deciding on the height of the bow, I doubled that measurement and added 1/4" for the seam. After sewing it right sides together, I flipped the tube of fabric inside out (using one of those wire-tube-turning-thingies that make you want to kill yourself. Just use a safety pin and watch a youtube tutorial for the love of those around you). I trimmed the edges with a curve and folded them inward creating the desired width. I then sewed a seam down the middle where I placed the pin in the photo above.

 For the tie around the bow, I used a small folded piece of fabric. I pinned that in place behind the bow. Because I didn't want to do any hand sewing (ewwww, hand sewing, me no likey!), I switched to a zipper foot on my machine and stitched as close to the back of the bow as possible.

 And then your bow is finished! I decided to add shoe clips to the back of mine so I could take them on and off. That's what you see me  hand sewing in the photo on the left.

 Yay, shoes! I'm thinking they'll go pretty nicely with this dress too.

In the end, I finished the dress. Actually, I believe the last words I said were, "BUTTERICK, I WILL FINISH YOU." To which she replied, "Oh yeah? You mean how you "finished" ole Simplicity 3877?" with a head tilt toward the heap of half sewn dress mess on the floor. I was just about to spit out some ugly grown up words when I heard from the next room:

Hubs: Cass? Are you talking to me?

Me: Well, yeah. Who else would I be talking to -- a dress pattern?!

It turns out I was right. I did finish it. But it wasn't until I was tying my shoulder straps that I realized Butterick got the last laugh: 

I sewed a pin inside one of the ties.

That's right. Now I have a permanent pin-pokey reminder of ole Butterick and her devilish ways. Thankfully I have this super swanky Pizza Hut/KFC/Bob Evans dress to show for my efforts. Sweet.

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