The Story of Two Dresses

For the longest time I've been wanting a Flemish Working Woman's Outfit. The whole she-bang like the one Lady Drea put together here
I've been making it in bits and pieces over the years and it never came out right. Most of the time this was because I skimped on the materials and tried to find short cuts in the pattern. Then I had a surgery on the schedule ( non-working gall bladder), and this left me with plenty of time to start working up my Flemish dress.
Step number one was the choice to go fully period for a middle/lower class gown and NOT wear any support. No corset, no pair of bodies, not even any boning at the edges for this one. I am one of those with a remarkable upper deck and I wanted to see if things can be successfully supported and controlled without the bones. I still have scars on my hips from a badly fitted corset worn to an anime convention.
Step number two: picking a pattern. After a considerable amount of back and forth with myself, I chose to use Caroline Johnson's kirtle pattern from The Queen's Servants . There is a great deal of arguement about if one should use a waist seam with the kirtle gathered into it under a Flemish gown, or if one should go for a smooth seamless look. I've always been more fond of the seamed theory myself, although the usual turn-back of the skirts and the addition of an apron makes it pretty hard to tell.

Clearly, I would need to add a fabulous hat, pin-on sleeves, a plain apron, and possibly a spindle to get the whole outfit to come together

One of the major reasons I picked this particular pattern however is that I suspect this is the same kirtle style found in one of my favorite portraits of the time.

This is Katalina or Catherine of Aragon in about 1503. See the layers? I'm guessing that she has on a smock, a black kirtle enriched with tiny golden Scallops of Santiago, a yellow plastron or stomacher of some kind, and then that yummy chocolate brown silk velvet gown. If I can get the Tudor kirtle to work my next step is hunting down bunches of tiny metal seashells. This dress has to be a multi-tasker!

After I picked the pattern, I asked a friend to drape it on me. As we were both fairly loopy on painkillers at the time, I'm not absolutely sure the pattern is what I'm looking for, but we'll see.I followed the directions on Constructing A 16th Century Flemish Outfit from the Elizabethan Costuming page and have discovered a few things I would recommend.
Sew your lacing rings to a strip of cotton twill tape in order to make sure you have the right number you will need with the correct spacing. I've tried to sew things directly to the gown before and it always gets out of true.
If your dress dummy isn't as tall as you are, there will come a point when you need help with the hem. Get all your layers on and ask for some help BEFORE you destroy a perfectly lovely skirt.
When in doubt, go back and look at the pictures again. There are loads of great dresses out on the internet. Search for images of "Flemish gowns", "Flemish Working Women", or " Flemish market day". Also see if you can find a group of costumers on-line who may have already done whatever you're stuck on and ask. They might have a few handy tricks up their sleeves as well.

In our Next Episode: Can these dress both be ready to wear before the demo on Friday? Will our Heroine remember to leave enough room for her arms in the sleeves?? Can ANYONE remember where I left my basket of spindles???

Gray Cats, Black Dogs, and Cephlopods

I have a pair of gray cats. I got them both from different shelters, about a year apart. The older one is named Smokey Topaz, for his fur and striking eye color.

The younger is Theodore Roosevelt because he's a bully little cat and I didn't want to call him Winston. Also, he's sort of fat so we speak softly and carry a large cat.


A few weeks ago, Smoke ran away. He's been an indoor cat his entire life, all nearly 13 years of it. I had to borrow a trap from the Humane Society to get him back in the house because he was so freaked out by the Big Blue Room. His geek tan was gone, he was running a fever and something had bit or stung him on the nose, causing it to swell badly. So Smoke had to visit the Cat Hospital, which is just about his least favorite place on earth.
The vet told me he was ok, except for the nose. I was told to take him home and feed him these little pills everyday for a week and he'd be fine. I took him home, opened the cage door and he took off like he'd been lit on fire. I didn't' even SEE him for over a week, although I was fairly sure he was in the house as I heard heart-tearing mewling every night. Eventually I cornered him in the workshop and got him pinned in a small bathroom with food, water, and a litterbox. Vet was called and informed me that cat might be slightly feral due to basically having a kitty break-down and I'd have to start civilizing him from the beginning. So it's brushing and gentle conversation and attempted petting every other hour or so. I have yet to get a pill into him, but he's starting to trust me again. One step at a time.

This, mixed with a few other things going on, combined to make me feel really bad last night.My Celtic ancestors sometimes referred to it as "chased by a Black Dog". In the Appalachians where some of my folks are from I've heard it called "a Black Dog on your porch". I was in that spot where you don't want to talk to anyone, but you NEED someone to come a tell you it's all ok. Crippled by my own inability to ask for help and locked in a place of self-hate I did what most people I know do. I went to the internet.

I tried funny cat pictures, I tried looking at costumes, I tried chatting to people on-line. None of it helped. Then I decided I just needed to make something, anything, as long as it was small, cute, and fast. I popped over to Ravelry and found this pattern for a Crochet Octopus
This pattern was fast, it made sense, it was well shaped and 2 hours later I had a cephlopod. I messed the head up a little so it doesn't know if it's a squid or an octopus, but it's darn cute. I'm going to give it eyes and a name sometime today.

TL:DR "Kitty pictures and Cute Crochet!"

Iced Coffee: Cold Brew

So it appears to be summertime. It hasn't been as hot as usual here yet, but I know it's only a matter of time before the roads get melted around the edges again and the cats beg me to shave them. How can a dedicated coffee drinker like myself manage to survive in such a harsh environment? I'm so very glad you asked.

This link will tell you all kinds of useful information on how to cold-brew coffee. I've heard of it referred to as 'toddy' or 'gravity-brewed' coffee as well.
I did mine a little bit differently from the link. I used a thermos I had handy that holds 6 cups of water with a little room left over. I added 20 scoops of a medium roast coffee, capped it, shook it a few times, and left it on the counter overnight. The next morning I poured it into the basket filter on my coffee maker, then poured that through again, making sure to have a clean filter in place the second time. The regular grounds I used were all caught by the first filtering, but I did it twice just in case. Then I poured it into a small glass jar and stuck in in my fridge.

What this means is you can always have a quantity of cold coffee starter in your fridge, so you don't even have to operate the coffee-maker first thing in the morning. Just add milk (almond, soy, or cow) and you have a lovely summer beverage that used no electricity and added no heat at all to your home. Ice cubes and a shot of caramel simple syrup will raise this to a whole new level, if you want to spend a little extra time and wash a pot afterwards.

Candlemas 2012 "Spanish Gown"

I promised a few pictures of the Scavenged Dress and these are the only ones I still have. You can see the square neckline doesn't quite work out, but on the whole I'm rather proud of this, considering I didn't buy much of it for this project at all. It's not actually too short for her, she was still getting used to walking in hoops in the wind in the second picture.

Change and Fear

On the 12th of May, this very Saturday, I'm going to get up very early in the morning. I'm going to put on the make-up, beat my hair into submission and possibly make an attempt to wear pantyhose. I shall throw myself into a car for an hour's panicked drive to get to a large room where I will sit for a few hours in a giant poly-blend sack of black fabric. At some point, I really hope someone will call my name, I'll walk across a stage, shake hands with a guy who is in on the joke, and pick up a roll of paper.
I'm going to walk the stage at commencement.

The whole idea of this scares me to little pieces.

First of all, I'm not actually graduating on Saturday. There was a small problem with the school's computer and six advanced credit hours have vanished from my transcript. It's a real shame, but the school just can't seem to do anything about it so hand over another $2000 and take two more classes this summer.I've already made arraignments with two wonderful professors who have been kind enough to let me do independent studies this semester. That's the joke bit. I'm not sure if they will call my name Saturday or not, but even if they do one of the professors I'll be working with is the guy handing out the degrees. We both agree it's a farce, but it's a well-dressed one.

Secondly, I've been going after this degree for a long time. Since 2004 off and on, I've made the push to get this degree and go on to grad school. I tell random people in the street that I'm living my dream of getting education. But really I have no guarantees, any more then the next student. Will I get the job I want? If I do get it, will I be able to pay for the loans I have to take to get here? I will have spent 11-12 years in school working towards my goal and I am approximating 2-3 years worth of income to pay for each year of that schooling. I have made the choice to mortgage my life. Is it the right one?

Thirdly, I'm human. I have yet to meet a single human in my whole life who really likes change. Some folks talk as if they do, but even they usually have something at their core that they want to leave untouched. I'm actually a stick-in-the-mud boring sort of person who isn't into change at all. Sometimes my idea of boring isn't the same as the neighbors, but I consider my life happily sedate most of the time.

More then anything else, I don't feel like I've earned this. I don't feel that I have the right to walk across that stage, take the paper, and say "I did it!"

But I have done it. I made myself go to school, even when I was working 60hr weeks and had the lead in a big play. I studied for midterms by my sister's hospital bed when my niece was born and for finals while waiting for the doctors to call about my father's heart. I did all the paperwork, all the jumping through hoops and financial fol-de-rol that the government thinks I needed. I even kept up on my work during an IRS audit. Through literal storm, flood, and fire I drove over 100 miles a day to get to and from class. I had emotional and financial support from my husband and parents, but I did this. I have made it happen and I will see it through to the end.

And in the fall I will start on my graduate school at the University of North Texas, working to be come a digital archivist. I'll finish that too.

"We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot."
~Eleanor Roosevelt

Attack of the Knits!

So a little while ago I discovered a program that accepts hand-knit items for donation to the homeless. They promised me they'd even take my nasty acrylic yarns if they were knit into useful items. Suddenly I've been re-inspired to knit all kinds of things!

One of the big reasons I haven't been knitting so much recently is a feeling of inability. I keep looking at all these wonderful books I have, finding great projects and going "Oh, but I can't afford that yarn." or "I haven't got those needles". I came away from the things that were supposed to inspire me feeling nervous and inadequate. Nothing was being knit because I didn't want to take the chance that I'd do it wrong.

I've learned in my life that I'm missing out on a lot of stuff because I'm afraid of it. I'm scared to start a new hobby or try a new food or even talk to someone because I didn't want to do it wrong. Because I know so many amazingly talented people, I've been scared to try new dance forms or even push my acting further, not wanting to be mocked. I really hate attempting my school work on my own, because I don't want to mess it up and not have a perfect grade, so I put it off until the last possible moment. Then I hurry it through and don't get as nice of a grade as I could have because I was so rushed.

This idea that it doesn't matter, that anything I choose to make will not only be fine but will actually be treasured and wanted even without perfection, is very freeing for me. Here is pleasure simply in what I can do now, instead of what I will be able to do or should have already done. This is the simple present tense and I am discovering that this is exactly the right place for me to live.

Send help, there are knit things all over the desk and they appear to be getting bigger!

Do Homeless Women Still Like Pink?

I've gone and picked up another hobby. More specifically, I've picked up an outlet for a hobby I already have, no new tools or spaces required.

The other night I was taking the kid and a friend out to Schlotzky's for dinner and I walked into the middle of a fiberfest. There, amid the sandwiches and pizzas, an intrepid group of women had set up a spinning wheel. They were knitting in the corners and crocheting in the aisles. The wheel was whorring along, turning purple fluff into a lovely fingering weight yarn. When I asked them why, they informed me that they were a group of local fiberfans who met there every Thursday and stayed quite late. They originally formed thanks to the Austin Scarf Project, a group who makes hats and scarves for the homeless.They take donations of yarn or pre-made scarves, but they really enjoy having people come out and just knit (or crochet) with them.

This idea really appealed to me on a number of levels. First of all, I tend to avoid doing a lot of social work because I always feel overwhelmed. While I don't mind helping the Red Cross with a shelter, or mucking out a flooded house, I come away from the experience depressed because I can only do so much. The last flood I helped clean out put me in bed for a few days when my back went out at the end of work. But this is an immediate solution to a problem.If you're cold, you put on a hat.

Secondly, I really like to make scarves. They've become the knitting addiction of choice for me. I can cast on an easy one and blow through it in a few hours or pick a fancy lace or cable pattern and work on it for weeks. I can knit them on the bus or in line, at the theater, or in class, or in front of the TV. I have a box full of the things since almost everyone I know already has one. You've only got the one neck so how many scarves do you really need?

Thirdly, and most selfishly, I'm running out of room to buy yarn. I have a fairly impressive stash at this point and I'm under interdict to not buy anymore. When you find yourself sneaking more yarn into the house and hiding it in the liquor cabinet you know you have a small problem.I'm fairly sure I'm addicted.

One of the reasons I have so much yarn is that I inherited a large amount from my grandmother. While she was a busy and active woman, my grandmother didn't actually knit. She used the yarn to make canvas cross-stitch pictures. That means that all the yarn she bought was the cheapest acrylic possible. I haven't been knitting with it because the wools, cottons, and silks feel better on my hands. The acrylic isn't *nasty*, it's just not what I prefer to touch. Which is where the questions come in for me. If I knit a scarf from bubblegum pink and white acrylic, something I'd never ever wear unless I was desperate, is it appropriate to give it away? Just because I don't care for it, will someone else still love it? If you're freezing to death do you care if your scarf looks like someone skinned a Barbie?

I think the answer to these questions is "Start knitting!" and I'm doing my bit for now. Tonight, I'll go knit in a sandwich shop, tomorrow I'll knit on the bus. My motivation is clearly not without some self-interest, but I hope I can also do a little good along the way.