Pineapple Head

I was running to the subway last weekend, all dolled up for a concert, with my hair piled high on top of my noggin' in what I now know is called a "pineapple." A man with a smattering of salt and pepper stubble gave me a sideways glance as we waited for the light to change.

That's some hair... he tested the waters, in a weathered voice. Wouldja believe I usedta have hair like that? 

ABSOLUTELY. I crooned back. My dad said the very same thing to me for years before he started buzzing it!  Door opened, I waited for his next move.  

WELL YA GOTTA SEE IT! My new friend whipped out his phone and scrolled his numerous photos for evidence. Do ya have high hopes for this picture?! He cackled, as the lights changed, and changed again. YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO. I chirped back. believe this is going to be worth missing my train for.  

I was right. My man had some KILLER style. All the way from strawberry blonde shoulder length 'fro (and in a soccer uniform just like my dad, no less) to blown-out, thick glossy waves, '70s prom posing, complete with powder blue suit. Did I miss my train? Yes. Was it worth it? SO MUCH YES.

I find that the louder I get with my style, the happier people are around me. And by people, I mean all kinds of people. That mini-epiphany hit me this weekend. This technicolor armor I built up over the years was borne out of being different--a little bit of every race, and not enough of any race. Everyone told me I didn't fit in their box, so I made my own. Now the armor I put on is actually becoming an invitation, to all kinds of folk. Many of the barriers of the past, imagined and real (and in the present, that I deal with every day in the "business") are just not there in these random encounters. I love it.

Now, maybe those shout-outs on the street and smiles on the subway are because my rainbow jolt is more amusing than anything else, but if my mass of Sideshow Bob hair, or swath of neon, puts a smile on someone's face, I don't much care where that smile originates from. Smiles are a commodity these days.

I guess I should tell you about the dress, yes? She is the True Bias Ogden Cami, that glorious and beloved pattern, cut a bit shorter, and maxi-fied with two rectangular tiers of gathered fabric. Pineapple printed viscose, to be exact. To match the hair, naturally. Summer style, about as easy as you can get! 

(Though it will take you some time to gather those panels. I suggest a beverage with an umbrella in it to ease that li'l bit of pain. A Piña Colada, perhaps? It's summertime, y'all. Go full pineapple.)

fabric: mood, this took about 2.5 yards
pattern: true bias ogden cami, modified


Hot Time! Tocca in the City!



What's that you say? It's technically still Spring? And drizzling outside? I'm sorry, you're mistaken. When you get six months of Winter, you get six months of Summer. I see nothing but blue skies. Them's the rules.

In celebration of this New World Order, I've finally made myself another maxi-fied Derby Dress, a pattern that hails from my summer-in-the-city girl Christine Haynes. It was high time to give my beloved rayon version a partner in Summer Crimes (read: drinking boozy cold things in hot sticky temperatures).

I maxi-fied this pattern for the first time about six years ago, for my birthday Promaballoona, to surprise Christine (she was one of the party hosts!). Then, pretty much immediately again in vintage rayon from mizz Lladybird Lauren, so this pattern has heaps of fond memories and good vibes in it. I honestly can't believe it took me so long to make another! I DO SO LIKE GOOD VIBES.

You can see more pics over at the Mood Sewing Network (aka the reason I missed posting a #wednesdaywip, as I had to get my monthly jam in over there. Also, yes, I've officially decided that posting a WIP every Wednesday is a silly rule. I know, it was worrying you. Shhhh. It's okay.)


#wednesdayWIP: McCalls 6044

When I don't know what to make, I make something for Rob. For no other reason than that I love him like words can't say. It occurs to me that this is the most selfish sewing I can think of, because it thrills me to no end to see him wearing something I stitched. And it's gotten a lot more thrilling since I've relieved myself of the pressure of getting it perfect. Don't get me wrong, I believe in perfection! I think that perfection, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Attainable perfection, if you will. But I have yet to make Rob a perfect garment. (To wit: check that buttonhole in the middle shot 😂)

Questionable buttonholes aside, this is largely due to the fact that I just don't have the reps in, man! I've made *who knows how many* dresses for myself, and they get better every time (well, sometimes it's a one-step-forward & two-steps-back kinda thing, but who's counting). Practice makes perfect, but with so few options out there for him pattern-wise, I can only practice so much.

I'm in the middle of McCall's 6044 at the moment, which has been used and abused errrrrywhere. (That's colorful language, there are myriad gorgeous renditions across the sewing blogishpere). It's...okay...but only after I abandoned the directions finish-wise, and removed some of that blousy sleeve cap ease. HOLY GATHERS, BATMAN.

It's hanging out, waiting for a try-on. 

Pam at Off the Cuff has some great tutorials on shirtmaking, I recommend devouring the posts on plackets & getting a pointed collar. Plackets! That reminds me, I want to make a tuxedo shirt for Rob! A proper one. To go with all my gowns.

I have no good finish to this post, and no idea how Wednesday snuck up like a stealth ninja! I SWEAR IT'S ONLY BEEN LIKE THREE DAYS IN KALKATROONAAN TIME. I haven't even had time to reply to your comments on the last WIP, but I'm stoked to hear that several of you went out and found that pattern for yourselves. You are gonna have a BLAST. (And I'm gonna rethink this whole self-inflicted Every Wednesday thing. 'KBYEEE!)