Hand Hemmed

I'm getting my things packed and ready. After a nice long break I'm heading off to work again. I expect I will be away for four months. I'm in the thick of weeding through my clothes and I have built up a whole big pile of mending and alterations. I've been wearing this vintage Lee skirt around with its frayed edge flying in the breeze. I decide it's time to do justice to its cuteness and finish it properly.

Frequently, when I do alterations for myself I do it down and dirty... "It's just for me, it dosent need to be perfect. Who else is going to know that I cut corners? It will be faster this way," I tell my self. Then I spend twice as long fussing with corrections that would not have been necessary if I had just taken the time to go through the right steps. Inspired by the craftsmanship of my vintage clothes I vow to give myself the pleasure of finishing my own things right.

To hem a skirt yourself, try it on and mark the length you desire with a safety pin.

Measure up from the original hem and transfer this measurement all the way around the inside of your skirt, with pins or a light pencil mark. Add one and a quarter inch to this length for hem allowance, which will be folded inside and stitched into place.

Cut a piece of twill tape slightly longer than the circumference of the hem. The twill tape or hem tape reduces the bulk of the hem along it to lie more smoothly. Lay the twill tape over the cut edge of your skirt on the outside (or right side of the skirt) so that it overlaps the edge by one-quarter inch. Stitch the tape in place by machine close to the top edge of the tape. Press the hem allowance under one and a half inches, towards the inside (or wrong side of the skirt.)

Thread a needle and knot your thread. Start your stitch at a side seam, hiding the knot behind your twill tape. Move your needle to the right to take your first stitch (reverse these directions if you are left handed.) Your stitches should be between one quarter and one half inches in length. Although your stitch is moving from left to right your needle will prick from right to left. This serves to strengthen your stitches and "knot" each one in place.

To make a tiny even stitch, follow the edge of your twill tape and prick through just a few threads of your skirt fabric at the exact line where it meets the twill tape then prick through the twill tape at the same point. This keeps your thread in line with the edge of your tape making it less noticeable and less likely to snag as you wear it. Be sure you only catch a few threads on the back of the skirt fabric and do not bring your needle all the way through to the front. This makes your hem invisible from the right side of the skirt. It is as if your skirt magically ends with out a machine stitch line.

This technique takes longer than machine stitching the edge under, but it looks so much nicer and I always find hand-stitching to be peaceful.

Unexpected Beauty

I’ve never been one for fussy beauty products. Still, I was surprised, even doubtful,People actually use baking soda and vinegar to wash their hair? I imagine dull greasy locks, smelling distinctly of salad dressing. But after some research I was intrigued. For years, I have mixed my own home cleaning products using the same ingredients. So, I figure, it can't hurt to try?

Here's the result of the experiment: A mixture of baking soda in warm water, massaged into the roots of my hair cleared away oil better than shampoo. As it turns out, baking soda's pH is mildly alkaline, so it reacts and dissolves the fatty acids that form on the scalp and skin. It was so effective in clearing oil from my hair that I'd be nervous to use it again for fear of stripping away too much.

Then, I soaked my hair in apple cider vinegar. Strange as it seems, vinegar's pH level is the same as human hair slightly acidic. My hair was left smooth and shiny and when it was dry...surprise, no vinegar smell. I may be tempted to try this one again.

But my favorite Natural beauty trick is coconut oil, I use this all the time. Mix it with a little solid perfume on your fingers, work it into the ends of your hair or onto your comb. Coconut oil is nature’s richest source of medium chain fatty acids, the same substance as your skins natural oils. It's hands down my favorite moisturizer.

The little pinch pots: Susan Ridenour.

The vintage brass hair clip made from vintage jewelry findings.

The little cloisonné tins of solid perfume were found at Follow Your Heart.

Art deco table runner is an example of decorative darning embroidery.

Branscombe lace

A big white moon is rising over the trees behind the house. Droplets of condensation have formed on the storm windows and the misty glass defuses moonlight through the room. I'm in a pensive mood, curled up under the covers looking at the spoils of an epic thrift hunt. I had my eye open for vintage handiwork and the universe delivered textiles with abundance.

This breathtakingly detailed needle lace blouse took the prize. I found it at a consignment store for next to nothing. Holding it in my hands, I wonder who wove this delicate web. I can't even imagine how long it must have taken and what thoughts must have drifted through the mind if it's maker in all those hours of focused attention and repetitive motion.

I was so intrigued by the whimsical scallop patterns that I felt compelled to do some research. This is an example of a needle and tape construction, introduced in the 1860's, called Branscombe lace, originating from Devonshire, England. Bold handcrafted designs became fashionable at this time as an alternative to the more readily available machine made laces. Its organic patterns could not be mass manufactured. At the turn of the century Branscombe lace became a popular craft. Ladies could by kits to make "renaissance lace" at home. I'm guessing this piece date from the twentieth century, it's in perfect condition and the shape is fairly modern.

There is something indescribably special about wearing a garment made by hand with loving attention and personal pride. I feel honored to surround myself in the creative force of this nameless remarkable woman. I respect the intelligence and time it took to learn this craft and make this one of a kind work of art. I hope she would be pleased that her creation is still loved and appreciated.

frolic architecture of the snow

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,

Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,Seems nowhere to alight: the whited airHides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.

The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet

Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit

Around the radiant fireplace, enclosedIn a tumultuous privacy of storm.

Come see the north wind's masonry.

Out of an unseen quarry evermoreFurnished with tile, the fierce artificerCurves his white bastions with projected roofRound every windward stake, or tree, or door.

Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work

So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he for number or proportion.

Mockingly, On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;

A swan-like form invests the hiddden thorn;Fills up the famer's lane from wall to wall,

Maugre the farmer's sighs; and at the gateA tapering turret overtops the work.

And when his hours are numbered, and the world

Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,

Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished ArtTo mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,

Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,The frolic architecture of the snow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Snowstorm

1835 [1841]

On Christmas night snow came, a ticklish, caressing kind of snow. The kind that brushes your cheek for a moment, before settling down to melt into your skin, crystalline flakes catching the light, catching the wind, swirling and sparkling like tiny shards of glass glitter through the trees. Overnight the snow built it's crystal castles and offered it's wild creation up to the day, but as quickly as the sky built this frolic architecture, with equal speed it starts to melt away.

(Amy's depiction of our Merry Merrick Christmas is so sweet, give it a read!)

Modes

Just north of the famous Brussels flea market, Jeu De Balle, we found this little shop...

Modes is a costume designers wonderland, frothing over with antique textiles and museum quality vintage. Amy and I stocked up on pretty tortoise shell hair barrettes and handmade lace.

Hamleau de la Reine

The Queen's Hamlet on the grouds of the Petit Trianon, at the palace of Versailles

It must be nice to have your own little weekend palace, on the grounds of your royal palace, and if your weekend palace starts to feel too stuffy, just build a farmhouse in an imaginary Swiss hamlet in your back yard, so you can feel like your faraway in your own magic kingdom fairytale.

I can't blame Marie Antoinette... I want to live here too.

Paris

I imagine girls in feathery hats, high collars and button up boots eating macaroons and sipping coffee in this very same shop, one hundred years ago. Everything is perfectly maintained. Parisians do not seem to suffer from the neurotic need to update and remodel that which is already beautiful.

Costume

These vintage costumes most likely graced the stage of the Lido cabaret.

Being that I was a somewhat strange child, playing alone in the woods in old ballet costumes, sequin tiaras, and vintage rhinestone necklaces, not to mention prairie dresses, hooded capes, Indian princess costumes and folkloric hippie dresses, all from my prized trove of goodwill dress-ups, was an every day sort of activity. Thanks be to my mother, who's hippie goddess sensibilities indulged my imaginative endeavors.

To be honest, I've never grow out of this phase. My closet looks more like a costume stock than a wardrobe. When I went to pack for this trip, I had to imagine what a sensible person (who didn't want to be cold while traveling through Europe) might look like. I tackled the project in full costume designer mode, hitting the thrift stores to create a simple warm wardrobe... so that I wouldn't end up hauling a colossal mishmash of flowing fairy dresses, fringed vests, flimsy footwear, and all the imposable impractical articles of dress of which my closet is mainly comprised. Think I did alright... one pair of black boots, one pair of wool pants, one pair of jeans, two dresses, three sweaters, a few tee shirts and undershirts, leggings, tights, wool socks, a coat, a scarf, gloves and a hat. Everything fit into one carry on. I selected my items based on a neutral color scheme instead of fit, so all the pieces could be mixed and matched, and then got creative with the sewing machine to bring things down to size. It was all very practical... not my normal mode of operation when it comes to my wardrobe. It's funny that my job is sort of like playing dress up with other people but I go about it in a much more organized way. It was nice to "costume" myself with the same sort of order I try to bring to my work.

All this being said, I found no lack of fuel for the creative imagination through out our travels... clothes to tickle my fancy for impossibly frivolous and painfully beautiful. The pictures above are vintage costumes from the Lido cabaret for sale at the Puces de Sant-Ouen flea market. As you can see from our Paris Top-Ten on Amy's Apple a Day, this flee market was not our top pick due to it's prohibitive priceyness, it was still worth a look for inspiration.

Thankfully, for me, this store was closed. The feathered fabulousness was only within reach of my imagination, so I was spared the temptation to add a rhinestone bra and matching head piece to my wardrobe.

It's really rare for Amy and I to have time off at the same time. Usually one or the other of us is up to our noses in some kind of project and can't get away. We have barely been in the same state for more than two week's time in a any given year since 1998! That's why we jumped at the opportunity to travel together. Who could be a more perfect travel buddy... We have similar interests, and we know each other inside out, the good, the bad, (and the tired and hungry) and still get along. It's one of the main reasons this trip was so special for me. Yes, I am thrilled, inspired, and culturally enriched by my experiences, no question, but it added an extra dimension of specialness to share these memories with my sister.

Paris at last!

All employees of the international resort where I worked (as a costume designer and performer for the better part of last year) are required to wear a name badge. This badge details with little flags your country of origin and the languages you speak... my tag shamfuly displayed four little American flags. You can imagine the teasing I had to endure as I would sit down to dine with well traveled Parisian guests... "And what do you think of Paris?" they would ask. "Oh you've never been? never been to Europe?? An American girl who speaks only English and had never been to Europe... How typical." No matter that I've visited thirty seven of the US states, five provinces of Canada and twice traveled to Central America, this did nothing to ease my feelings of worldly inadequacy. A trip to Europe seamed to be an important rite of passage that I somehow missed along the way. Everyone had a good laugh, including me (and I silently vowed to correct this situation as soon as possible.)

So now it's done! I've been to Europe, on the first of what I hope will be many adventures.

and I can answer when asked that "Paris is unmatched in it's graceful refinement and delicate beauty" Just what the french want to hear... and also very true.