Garden Gear: no jeans for this chick

Sometimes I feel a little less than hip, what with my inability to dive into the obsession for denim that so many people have. I pretty much loathe denim. Except for overalls which no one but public school teachers seem to favor. I'd wear overalls (a la Doris Day probably, with a fitted waist) if I thought I could get them in my size. But I really hate denim. I would like to state here, for the record, that I do want to embrace it on others since absolutely everyone I know loves at least one pair of jeans in their closet. Let's put it this way: I'm never going to think you look best in your jeans. Never. I will always think you look better in gabardine trousers, or a non-denim twill, or dresses, or seer sucker, or skirts, or... you get the idea.

Probably the most commonly worn garden gear is denim. So what does a denim hating person wear in the garden? I wear absolutely anything that strikes my fancy. I don't believe in "nice" clothes versus "grubby" clothes. My closet is pretty equal opportunity. I mean, I'm probably not going to wear my super fancy ball gown* to weed in. But I believe in putting on an apron to protect my clothes from grime** which means that I'll wear whatever makes me feel good and will impress my plants enough to listen to me when I tell them to grow.

This pattern pictured above is fantastic. I managed to stick within my caloric goals yesterday in an effort to whittle away the excess pounds so that I can eventually sew this for myself. I just wish there was somewhere I could buy that hat! I like to look like some kind of farmer's wife pre-1950's, or I like to look sensible in handsome trousers to muck around in my yard.

My whole sartorial life has been carefully thought out as though I were perpetually preparing for a scene in a movie. It makes getting up in the morning more fun. Getting dressed used to be a moment of joy for me each day. Certain themes pop up a lot. I should also mention that every interpretation of a get-up is tinted with old Hollywood style. I might dress like a 1930's poor farm wife, but Hollywood style. I don't feel the need to wear darned cotton stockings with my dress. It's always the idealized version of itself that I aim for. If I dress like a peasant from the 1800's, I don't feel obligated to invite lice to my hair, nor to stop bathing for a week to get the true effect.

This pattern above I first got in a size 16, which I will never fit in again in my life. (Remember, this is vintage sizing). It doesn't make me sad to never be that size again, but I really love this outfit. You might even say I became obsessed with finding it in a larger size. The larger sizes are harder to come by and often you have to fight for them in stealth bidding wars. I like to believe that this is because so many of us out there are not tiny munchkins and so there's more competition for them. I gave the size 16 to my close friend Sharon, who, DAMN HER!, made the outfit and looks so cute in it that if I wasn't married and if I happened to be a lesbian I would have totally fallen for her.

Eventually I saw this one come up on E-bay in a size 20. I fought hard for it.*** This is the kind of outfit that you could do almost anything in. All you need is a good pair of work boots and you'd be good for a trip around the globe. Cute bra top which can be modestly covered by the jacket. Shorts for hot weather, and the cropped trousers for everything else. If I could wear this pattern, I might never need to shop again.

Wouldn't that be so cool? To never have to shop for clothes again? I LOVE clothes, shoes, and accessories, I just HATE shopping for them. Shopping has always been a painful lesson in how I am not standard. Even when I was thirteen years old and fit in a size 9 and was relatively thin. Nothing about my body has ever been standard. Which is probably one of the many reasons I became so attracted to sewing for myself. Who cares if your top half is a whole size smaller than your bottom half when you can sew something that fits that interesting body? Who cares if your waist is really small in proportion to your generous butt if you can draft a pattern that fits that (somewhat attractive) peculiarity.

I love that so many people here in blog land are sewing clothes for themselves. Not only people who are already experienced at sewing clothes, but so many people who are new to it are blazing themselves a trail to custom fitted wardrobes. It's an inspiration.

I had a talk with my mom yesterday. I have promised her I will work on how I talk about myself. In my head, out of my mouth, and out of my keyboard. I have promised to stop being mean about my weight. I am what I am. But while I try to make positive changes it is completely counter productive to constantly draw attention to what I dislike about myself. Better to make another peace apron for myself (because the other one sold even though it wasn't for sale) and make myself the dress I've been longing to wear.

It's another gorgeous day here in the PNW. The pear tree is blooming, the sun is out, and there is a latte here beside me that Philip made. Yum. So I'm going to go off dreaming about garments as I always do. I'm going to go see what all of you are up to now.

*If I had one, which I don't.
**although it must be admitted that I wasn't wearing one the other day while using bleach and now have a ruined shirt. See how important aprons are?
***And as you can see, I won it.

Body Blueprints

This picture was taken at a time when I fit in a size twenty vintage pattern.

I am here at the shop going through my whole vintage pattern collection. This is not a collection that will win merits for it's condition. I have almost no mint patterns. They are a raggedy bunch of historical blueprints for clothing. I have laid them all out on my craft table, separated them into groups according to type of garment to see what I have. I have collected heavy on the lingerie, aprons, and trousers. I wonder what that says about me, if anything. I have paid a lot of money for this collection because there were garments I desperately wanted to investigate closely for cut and shape. Trousers like Katherine Hepburn wore do not exist anymore. I mean, not in modern patterns. There was something marvelously buttery about the way those old trousers fell from her hips in graceful fluid lines. I look best in pants with the thirties and forties fit. They are hard to come by.

Bathing suits are another garment whose modern interpretation makes me look like some kind of squat hairy beast. The only bathing suit I ever looked good in was the cotton nineteen fifties one with the flirty attached skirt that I had years ago when I was as svelte as a person of my stocky build can ever be. I have only managed to buy two bathing suit patterns, one of which I had to fight a bidding war to get and paid thirty five dollars for. A suit for a siren. I treasure it. I enjoy looking at it. I don't know if I'll ever make it, but I am weirdly relieved to know that I have it. That this blueprint is in safe hands; will not be lost to dust and careless tossing.

Most of why I collected all these patterns, only a few of which I have made, is to preserve them. To study them and breath them in like old maps to the human form. I know what hips were like then; I know how covering them has changed over the years. As an experienced pattern drafter I also know how awkward some of these patterns are, how they could have been simpler. I think I've always had it in my head that I would copy them all and then sell copies to others who want the same blueprint. A labor mostly of love since copying such delicate material is like performing paper surgery.

Having these patterns is like possessing a living link to all the old movies I like to watch. I see Myrna Loy in some beautiful negligee and here in my hands is a pattern for the same kind of negligee, printed while she was still filming Nick and Nora films with William Powell. It feels like I'm touching her indirectly.

Most of my patterns are in a size eighteen or larger. Heavy emphasis on the size twenty patterns. As I have perhaps mentioned before, a size twenty in the nineteen thirties is not the same as a current size twenty. A size twenty back then is most equivalent to a size sixteen today. Here's something to note: a size eighteen in the nineteen thirties was considered average and medium (bust 36, hip 39) and today that's a size fourteen*. A plus size. But no woman back then would have been ashamed to be a size eighteen. When magazines published patterns they always made it a size eighteen.

So if a body measuring 36-30-39 is a size fourteen today, why on earth would any woman consider herself over weight at that size? I'll tell you something else, when I was that size I did not consider myself fat. I considered myself a healthy size. (Well, I was smaller than that when I got married and gaining twenty pounds to end up at a relatively healthy-though not skinny- weight did take some adjusting to. But as soon as I got new clothes that fit, I felt fine about myself.)

If Jean Harlow was alive today she would not have fit in a size two dress. Today we would call her a plus sized gal. But back then women were desperate to have her figure. But not quite as desperate as men were.



*this is comparing standards in patterns, not necessarily in ready made clothing which can really differ a lot. What with vanity sizing being all the rage it is impossible for a woman to know her "true" size, and having gotten used to the incredible diminishing numbers representing body measurements, the average woman would probably be shocked to find that her actual size according to measurements is much larger than she has been led to believe. All of it is essentially meaningless. I mean, a 36 bust is the same now as it was a hundred years ago: 36 inches. What's changed, which I find fascinating, is what we consider an ideal size and how that drastically changes every couple of generations.

I have wanted to conduct a survey for a long time in which I take women's measurements, ask them what size they wear in different garments and then compare that to the sizes on my vintage patterns. Body measurements are the only true way to compare sizes. I know what a body looks like that is 36-30-39. I do because I've had that body. My sister has always been smaller than me and she has been known to wear a size six or four, but what does that look like in numbers? That would be truly revealing information and would answer a lot of confusion.

New clothes from old patterns

(or: how to have brand new/old wardrobe)

A long time ago I fell in love with vintage patterns because what they represent is the chance to create completely authentic vintage clothes, but out of any material you want. In essence, they are little fashion time capsules. While being protected and cared for, we can always see for ourselves how a particular style was really cut, how silhouettes were achieved with darts and slashes.

I started to collect them in earnest. If I had unlimited funds, I would have an entire room of them. However, I don't, and haven't ever had unlimited funds. So my collection is limited in size. I have gotten many of them for cheap. But there are some that I have paid a lot of money to get my hands on because they were so delicious and so particularly what I would have chosen to wear had I been alive when these styles were in. And would like to wear right now.

My special emphasis is on thirties and forties patterns. Lingerie and slack suits have been my favorites because I think the lingerie of these periods is truly sexy. Without splitting crotches, they managed to make lingerie that was all at once lady like, but also so completely flattering to the female curvaceous form and sexy that if I was a lesbian, I would also be a lecher.

The pant suits (which I have not posted a picture of for some mysterious reason) I collect because no one cuts pants like they did in the thirties and forties. That's the fit that is most flattering on women with curves of any kind. The kind that Katherine Hepburn and Marlene Dietrich wore. Not these low waisted tight numbers that give every woman a muffin top waist, and that squeeze their butts flat. (Sorry if you like these kind of pants, most women do, so go forth and wear them with pride. Mine is one opinion, amongst the masses of people, who thinks women bulging out of sausage casings is unattractive. Don't worry, everyone else thinks your stomach oozing over the top of your tight pants is quite sexy!)

I also collect a lot of vintage apron patterns. Which is no surprise. I have tried to justify this collection over the years. I have thought that I will copy them all and sell the copies. I have thought that I would make them all for myself to wear. (I have actually made a few of my patterns up). These patterns you see here are all the ones that I have culled for Bitter Betty to possibly use in her Vintage Wardrobe Project. A few of them I have decided to give to her if she wants them, a few of them I cannot part with even though I will never fit in these sizes again, though I thought maybe she could copy them if she likes. (We'll talk BB!)

I have only collected sizes 18 and up. Believe it or not, size 18 in the thirties and forties was the average size. Usually it has a corresponding bust measurement of 36, waist of 30 or 32 inches, and a hip measurement of 39 inches. This is not a plus size, not even for today. That's a figure I will never again achieve in my life unless I become very sick, which I'd prefer to avoid. It's not stick thin either. In my opinion, this is a rather ideal size. Curvy, but not large, svelte, but not skinny.

What I'm personally aiming for is to fit a vintage size 20 which is plumper, while still being a very pleasing shape. I could certainly become a vintage size 20 again. With lots of work. Bitter Betty has got me inspired. If I was being my true self, in terms of my wardrobe, I would be wearing the styles you see above, mixed with modern garments too. I cannot fit into any size pattern I own, and that's depressing. So Betty's Vintage Wardrobe Project is inspiring me to get a little more serious about making some progress.

Plus, she's so freaking cute it kills me. Who wouldn't want to be that charismatic and lovely? (I'm talking about Bitter Betty, in case that wasn't clear.)

Since I won't be able to wear anything I might make myself for a while, I did think it would be great to fit some garments on my dress form that I can wear later if I reach my goal. If I never reach my goal? I'm not ready to admit that's a possibility. Since I started such a similar project for myself years ago, I can't possibly not take part in this project, it's so absolutely perfect, exciting, and to be able to do this along side like-minded creative people? No way am I missing out just because I'm fat right now. So I think I'll start making some garments and perhaps that will inspire me to cut the pounds away. Knowing that when I reach my goal I will have a whole cool wardrobe to slip into. Oh my. Yep, I'm excited.

Here's our new signage! It looks so great!!! (Mind if I use a few more exclamation points?) Frank Pons is the guy who made it happen. His company is called Ampersand Sign Workx. Don't tell me about the window display though. Once again, the idea was pretty cool in the old noggin, and when put in the window did not come together. Want to know why? Because I didn't start with a color story. RULE #1: START WITH A COLOR STORY.

Plus I think the Easter buckets will look nicer when I get the candy order in and can do them up properly in cellophane and ribbons.

I do like this window though. It's very simple. All it needs now is the Easter Bonnet decorating class poster. Which Philip still has to make. Today. Yesterday. Last week. Everything keeps getting in the way.

Incidentally, I just want to say: poor Brittney. It was always obvious that she had no class, but I feel so bad for her. It must suck to go through tough times in the public eye.

And also: is there anyone who ISN'T Anna Nicole Smith's baby's father besides me? And what's up with Zsa Zsa's husband making paternity claims and Zsa Zsa still being married to the stupid man? I feel so sorry for that baby. Oh poor wee one. What a way to begin life. Someday she will see all this coverage and know some things about her mother that maybe she won't enjoy finding out. And she'll know that Zsa Zsa's husband claimed he might be the father. And wait a minute....why the hell did he do that anyway? Does he want the orphaned little schnitzel?

I am really feeling bad for the children of celebrities lately. They are going to be the future personalities found with heroine possession and ODing outside trendy Los Angeles clubs. Or keeping zoo animals on giant estates and slowly go mad in front of the whole world. I'm pretty glad I was born amongst ordinary drug taking commune living mortals. That's starting to seem about five hundred times more wholesome than being born into the den of unreality amongst the fabulously rich and famous.

You know what terrifies me the most? That Paris Hilton is going to join the celebrity-baby-crazy-band-wagon and start pumping out the offspring with her many beaus. Because that's what you do when you love someone for a whole week, you celebrate that love by having a cute little living token of your deep attachment. You can always just ditch them onto a nanny when you get tired of parenting. Still, people will liken you to the Virgin Mary with that halo of virtuousness and that maternal glow you will carry now that you have offspring to show off.

HELLO. Back to reality here.

I'm off to get stuff done. I worked late at the store last night perfecting my apron pattern and cutting one out that I need to sew. I've got lots of late nights ahead of me. If I am going to lose weight, I need to have food on hand to bring with me so I don't have to buy food at the health food store which is actually all rather fattening and not that great anyway. The last time I had to work late for a couple of weeks, I put on pounds. I must find a way to prevent this from happening again. So have a lovely day everyone!