myself, i dress for ronald.

first crack at the orange stripey clio splitsies fabric.  french seamed and meant for capri harem pants.  

do the math's extremely intriguing and thought provoking post on how women dress got me, well, thinking.  it's a little too intellectual for me to comprehend fully at the moment, i'll admit.  do you ever go through periods of not really being able to concentrate on and understand the issue at hand?  i don't know what's up, it's not like i'm in my luteal phase.  perhaps all the working with fabric and not actually engaging in real live conversation with people deadens the philosophizin skillz.  i'll remedy that over the next few days, our dance card is filling up.  and then i'll read this excellent post again.  

but for now i can latch on to one point of ethan's thoughts:

UPDATE: please read ethan's shout out in the comments following this post, our dialogue has prompted a rewrite which i've reposted below, original text still included.  if this was a bad lead in the front man's eyes, this was a TOTAL MASSACRE of backing vocals on my part.  if i didn't make it clear: ethan is all kinds of awesome, and even though i understood exactly where he was coming from, he makes it crystalline in the update.

here's ethan, he's left the original text X-ed out.

"I’ve been wondering for years about something in our commonplace culture that encourages women to please men many times over before pleasing themselves.  Everywhere I look American women wax, buff, dress skimpily and strut, offering transient enjoyment and asking for transient approval.  (UPDATE:  This was a bad lead.  I should have made it clear that I'm talking only about a very specific style, not female beauty and adornment in general.  The topic of Levy's book is raunch culture, the idolization of porn and celebration of stripper-chic.  Oonaballoona and team have called me out on this!  I suspect that many of these women are talented fashion designers like Oonaballona herself:  in no way did I mean to suggest that intelligence and looking good are antipodes.  I am following Levy in lamenting a rising tide in American culture that glamorizes the sex industry and pressures women to appear sexually available.  Don't take my word for it, just read the book.)

Traveling home yesterday from Sea-Tac to JFK I witnessed several thongs as low-cut jeans rode down.  It’s kind of great, for me and other susceptible heterosexual males, anyway...but there’s a hollow note, a chime in the symphony that asks, “What is really going on here?  Aren’t all these provocative bodies also supposed to house a brain that is my potential intellectual equal, if not my superior?”

really you have got to go read this post.  i wish he would turn comments on because i'd love to hear what peeps are thinking about this.  go have a look... then come back and tell me what you think about it to tide me over till i get my comprehensive thought back.   (continue update: i guess i turned the comments on for him here.  um, you're welcome?  and, update, c'est fini.)

i do agree about the whole transient bit.  for years, without ruggy asking me to, i dressed for his approval.  i knew what colors, cut, and fit he liked, and i turned down my clashing.  this was stupid and unnecessary, but even if ruggy didn't expect it, we're trained in a society that expects it.  hard to rewire that, it still gets me sometimes.  

that's not news, we all experience that in some form-- jobs, school, family... but what i wonder is: specifically as sewists who can make anything you might desire to put on your gorgeous bods, who do YOU dress for? because as i get better at sewing, i look at women with thongs giving a jolly wave to everyone behind them, at ladies with peplums and skinny jeans and hell, men with low rise pants that give Thong Chicks a serious run for their money, and instead of trends that i should be wearing, i see poor choices in fit.  choices in color and cut that don't flatter the wearer-- they flatter the wearer's idea of "in".  

as we packed for LA, i warned ruggy that he was going to be seeing a lot more craziness going on in my closet.  as evidenced by my last fabric haul, i'm understanding now that vivid color looks best on me, and feels best on me. and i know now what cuts flatter me, so the craziness will FIT.  of course he was all in on that.  he never asked me to dress a certain way, and he loves the schizophrenic combinations i come up with.  (well, he does appreciate a good booty hugging dress.  but really, he likes my booty.  i can hardly complain.)

but of course, i still dress for some approval.  i love it when a stranger compliments me on a garment and i can say I MADE IT.  (yes, i do usually say it in all caps.)  is it different for us?  are we looking for the same sort of approval as those dressing for society's current approval?

lots of questions... would love to know your answers... 

(i'm going for my approval.  and the ronald mcdonald harem pants did NOT make the cut.)

suspicious activity

 

are you watching the new bbc sherlock series? it's on netflix instant watch.  excellent MLK day activity.  though really it doesn't have much to do with the day.

unless you consider knocking off this african print mini skirt a celebratory act?  my young nephew celebrates by eating cupcakes and coloring pictures, so i'm pretty sure i've got him beat in this very questionable contest.  i like to win, especially over small children.  

(ps: a TBP favorite.  again, apologies to do the math peeps that may have found their way here.  my knowledge of jazz is most certainly suspect, though my admiration for MLK is much greater than this post would lead you to believe.  if you care to hang out, we'll sew and drink and swear together.)

what did you do new year's eve Eve

so, you might have noticed last week, i made colette's taffy blouse.  and also a self drafted skirt from the scraps of pajama bottoms made for Hot Mama.  this ensemble was actually worn in public, to see the billy hart quartet during our kalkatroonaan christmas.

i would've liked to have worn it last night to our new year's tradition of seeing the bad plus at the village vanguard, but in order to get the best seats there, you have to be first in line outside the joint.  warmth trumps blouse made of air. 

we spent the first set with our friends, at a modest distance from the stage.  Dapper Friend had red corduroy pants on, and many of you will be interested to know: the grain ran horizontally rather than vertically.  my mind was blown.  what was left of the blown bits of my mind were then shredded as our favorite band in the world voraciously ripped into their newest creations.  

the neck was pretty wide, and of course not having made a muslin, i just pushed and pulled until i found darts that made me happier.

i had a teacher who talked a lot about the basketball effect: you're watching a game, and a player makes a particularly stunning move, and your body moves with it unintentionally, pushing and pulling an invisible ball. lots of basketball going on last night between the athletes on stage, and in the audience.  both parties were also guilty of excessive grinning.

for the second set, we were able to move up front to our favorite table, and during the break ethan copped a squat and we talked about blogs, lawyers, and buffy the vampire slayer.  at this point the rest of my mind was phaser blasted to happy dusty particles. 

i just serged lots of strips together until i had a tunnel shape that would accomodate le booty.  there are six seams altogether.  speaking of serging, i finished the arm edges like so.  i'm not into the bias tape much.

being that close to the stage is amazing sight and sound wise, which is why i love that particular table, but you're also very aware of being almost a part of the stage.  i mean, my foot was resting on the lip.  you are actually sitting in the light of the stage at this table.  it starts to feel like you're invading something very private, like maybe you're on safari and you don't want to make any sudden movements and disturb the wild life.  

again, seeking an alternative to bias tape, i handstitched some trim around the serged neckline.

until i was comfortable enough to steal glances at their faces, i was fascinated by their hands.  their hands are insane.  ethan's on piano, his fingers sort of do backbends and then the CGI technicians come in for his solos. reid's on upright bass, his hands meld into the wood like they're made of liquid.  dave's on drums, his digits alternately choke and caress sticks, cymbals, brushes, playskool toys and rubber ET dolls.  it was so cool to see their hands do their work that close.

my hands have now got to get busy on new year's eve preparations, though my ears are still full of music.  have a great night, y'all.  drink one for me, i'll certainly drink one for you. 

facial relation

when i read the cries for muppet pinup in the last post, i did many little dances, knowing the column was already saved and waiting to go live.  i will do my OCD thing shortly and respond to Each And Every Comment from the ODI wrapup, but right now i'm too proud of these pictures not to have them on my blog.  and since i am a brat i get what i want.  they're over at the sew weekly as well, avec story, but i think i'm going to start putting those installments up here too, with a different story and different pictures.  

since i am still on a sugar high from two straight days of cordon bleu cooking, coherency is going to be an issue, so please forgive the rocky start.

this is a far cry from the headless pictures i'd post when i first started le blog.  i never thought i'd throw my face on here, much less 70% of my body fabric-less. 

ruggy:  those pictures are great, babe!  did you photoshop them?

i think y'all know the answer to that question.  i think you also know how foolhardy the man was to ask that question.

i actually used picnik (the free version) and a whole lot of iphoto tricks to create the pinup look.  photoshop would have been my first choice, but apple's OS X is being a pain is the ass and not playing with older versions. get with the program, apple.

  

for those of you who haven't read the original post, the challenge: do a pin up girl as a muppet. thrown down by mena trott.  i chose animal, with a second or two of thought given to ralph the piano playing dog.  musical muppets seem to be my favorite.  

speaking of music, we had the great good fortune to hear ethan iverson of the bad plus play with a new trio this thanksgiving eve, do the math.  BEST THANKSGIVING EVE EVER.  tiny little jazz club, appropriately named smalls, and my favorite in the city, with mismatched chairs, blissed out bartenders, and mirrors hanging everywhere.  at one point in the set, ethan lightly touched the keys in simple, soft, but completely otherworldly combinations, corcoran drew a long bow across his bass, and that was it.  a slow collective intake of breath made the club sound like a yoga practice as everyone relaxed into a gorgeous blanket of sound.  it was like walking in a forest where you knew you were about to stroll headfirst into your true love.

que waxing.  allow me to try to wrap this post up:  at the end of the set, we walked over to shake hands and say thank you as always-- at this point we are obvious and recognizable groupies and are greeted near the territory of friends, which always makes me want to fall off my chair-- when ethan said, "oh hey, i know you.  you're oonaballoona.  you're all about fashion.  i've got you figured out."

for that moment alone, face on the blog was a good call.  

(ps: you still have three days to win a small package of your own... get le shabby apple dress, go throw your hat in the ring!)

a flock of birds

(post script as pre-script: HOLY COW you guys liked my BSG dress!  thanks thankya thank you everyone!  i wish blogger had that little reply button so i could get a response to each of you, reading your comments made me SO happy.  haaalloooooo blogger technicians, blogger number three billion and one dials the request line for a reply button.  i guess i have to rethink its wearability... it's going in the front of the closet now.)

This weekend we had the pleasure of seeing our favorite jazz trio blow the roof off at Blue Note. We waited on line, in the rain, at the last minute, and squeezed ourselves into a tiny table with three new friends. The Bad Plus has the best type of fans. Everyone is so eager to hear them, so tipsy at the thought of the sounds about to happen, all smiles and hello strangers, you are our new fabulous best friends simply because you have so wisely chosen to spend your evening here! Come and sit at our tiny table with our blessings. Sadly our friends were allergic to the carpet and had to vacate the premises, what great good luck for you! Order your wine! 

Joshua Redman performed with them, and it is here that I must confess my general disdain surrounding the saxophone.  I don't know what it is about it, but it walks a very fine line with me.  A "CD 101.9" line. A cool  line. 

(It is a hot summer day.  Marcy marches down the street hand in hand with Rob. They pass a saxophonist playing for coins. Marcy has been studying up on jazz lately, and finding that she adores it, is now an instant expert on the subject.)

Marcy: I HATE saxophones.

Rob:  Really?

Marcy:  YES.  They're all smooth jazz and I hate them.

(arriving home, Rob puts ye olde ipod on shuffle, genre of jazz.)

Marcy: I LOVE this song.  I love ALL his stuff.  who is this again?

Rob:  Charlie Parker.

Rob enjoys immediately and stealthily proving me wrong when I make blanket declarations as such. I once announced to a waitress at a wine bar that I did not like malbec, and I would have a cabernet. Rob ordered a cab and a malbec, and surreptitiously put the malbec in front of me. Of course I said it was the best cab I'd ever had.

Redman's saxophone screamed along with The Bad Plus and I grinned like a freak. Their notes raced around the club, spinning and breaking and diving and plunging. My sis-in-law put it perfectly: they played like a flock of birds, completely changing directions with one mind.  

But I did miss just the trio, especially on Reid Anderson's "People Like You".  I wanted to put that tune up here but I would kind of die if I embedded a youtube video and somehow the band saw it and was all great thanks for the love and the pirated frigging video.  So here's a clip of them from the awesome bbc show "Later with Jools Holland", it's been up for four years so I figure it has the stamp of approval...