On The Hunt For The Ever Elusive Sloper...
(An exciting post in which I talk about really esoteric pattern drafting needs)
I'm feeling generous today and will give you three guesses what kind of clothes I was into wearing at the time I made this sketch. That's a lot of guesses and I think you should know that I will judge you harshly if you need all three of them. This sketch was made in either 1990, or 1991.And another thing: get a load of that really long neck on the babe to the left! Now why do people think long necks are so attractive? I'm stumped. I think it looks gangly and kind of wrong. Meanwhile...the other babe seems to have no neck at all. What does it say about me that I prefer the no-necked babe to the one who obviously used to wear neck-elongating rings around hers? Does it mean I'm vain since I have a short neck myself?
I have been designing cobbler aprons and smocks for a very long time. Back in the dark ages when I had a waist but no meds (so I was actually quite miserable in spite of having a pretty darn nice looking size 14 off the rack bootie. Funny how that works, huh?) I designed quite a lot of garments that I would have made if only I could have gotten my hands on a decent set of slopers. Unless you are already a fashion designer/pattern drafter, you probably don't know what "slopers" are, huh? They are basic master patterns from which all other patterns are drafted.I made a perfect set at the Fashion Institute Of Design And Merchandising in San Francisco. Incidentally, they say they continue to help place alumni in jobs, don't believe the hype. I called them for job leads about seven years after graduating and they did exactly squat for me. They were actually kind of mystified about why I would come to them looking for job leads when they had already spent the twenty thousand dollars I paid them for teaching me to draft patterns and sketch poorly*.
Back to the slopers... Over time I lost a couple of essential pieces to my perfectly trued slopers in size 10 (which would now probably be equivalent to a size 6, maybe even a 4 at this point judging from the body size of people who claim to be a size 4.). Losing any piece of a set of slopers renders them useless. I could have made myself a new set if only I had gotten myself a professional dress form. But since those cost over $600 which I just didn't ever seem to have, I invested what has ended up amounting to over six hundred dollars worth of less useful cheaper dress forms as well as a set of slopers that turned out to be complete shit. I have learned a couple of valuable lessons here:
- Never lose the perfect slopers you made in design school and which took you an entire semester to perfect. Especially if you got an A in the class based on their perfection.
- Spend the amount of money you need to to do a thing right or you'll end up wasting the same amount trying to do it cheaper and less well.
- "Just My Size" foam dress forms suck. Yeah, I wasn't sad when mine melted in the great attic fire of 2003. Adjustable dress forms are slightly better. But there's no substitute for the real thing and some day I just might have to buy myself a paper mache dress form covered in canvas and all the proper seam markings.
I have noticed that many writers don't get published or hit their stride until rather later in life. This seems to work out fine and may explain why I have not felt that I must be published right this second or lose all chance of ever being considered worthy of print. But has there ever been a designer who came to it late in life? I don't think so.
My love affair with fashion is one that I cherish and I won't be giving up on it any time soon. Perhaps I'll hit my clothing design stride when I'm a very ripe 70 year old and stun all the arrogant little upstarts who think they're going to conquer the world. I could show them a thing or two right now at 38 years of age.
Which makes me sound like the arrogant one. But just imagine me sending normal sized people down the catwalk to a stunned audience, the clothes are so cool everyone watching wants to look like a peasant homesteader too, and they are expecting some chain-smoking punk to take bows at the end. Instead...here I come, as fat as a seal, leaning on a cane because I've just gotten my hip replaced, and I'm sporting my blue-washed hair in a very mediocre bob because I still can't find a good hairdresser...and I become a smash hit because it's all too irresistibly odd...
*It really isn't their fault I can't render fabrics and patterns to save my life.
Note: hopefully you all already know this: everything on this blog, especially these amazing designs here, is copy-righted to me. Me, Dustpan Alley, aka Angelina. But I didn't really need to say that, did I? I can't actually figure out how come I haven't already put the standard caution on my blog. Does this mean I think no one would want to steal my coolness factor?
