There was a time (a time in which we still might be living) when every American woman visiting Mexico came back with a souvenir photograph of a zebra-painted burro, a tourist jacket, and a straw tote covered in yarn embroidery and palm-leaf appliqué. Heck, Mary had at least seven of the straw bags in a variety of colors and sizes before she ever even set foot in Mexico. It isn't that these souvenirs are terribly rare or terribly exotic, quite the opposite; they are rather inexpensive, readily available, and a definite rite of passage - passage across the Mexico-US border in which forgetful tourists begin panic-buying souvenirs for all the folks at home.
Tijuana - 1955 My grandmother (center) with my father beside her. My uncle is riding the burro.
In sifting through the wacky tacky archives, I found the above photo and one such straw tote bag, purchased at a thrift store. The body and the handles/hardware were in decent shape but the decorations had certainly experienced much sunnier holidays south of the border.
Looking very much like it had witnessed more than its fair share
of fiestas, this was the sorry state in which we found the bag.
In an effort to make way between the piles of newspapers and stacks of empty tuna fish cans for guests to maneuver through the hoarder's paradise that is wacky tacky headquarters, we are midway through an unprecedented clean-out. But the options to rid ourselves of this pitiful piece were quite limited - it was either fodder for the local landfill or a one-way ticket back to the thrift store (this would not have been the first time we paid for something at a thrift store only to donate it back again). The options to overhaul it, however, were limitless! It was time to break the buying/donating cycle and turn modern medical practice on its ear by taking this literal sad sack north of the border for a fun facelift.
I started by removing the shredded floral clusters and
giving the frayed yarn a well-deserved haircut.
Just happening to have yarn in shades of "close-enough" green and orange,
I grabbed a big needle and began to touch-up the embroidered leaves.
Mid-makeover, I liked the way that the my not-quite-a-color-
match yarn added some variegation and depth to the leaves.
Once the bag and the leaves were stabilized, it was time to complete the makeover; after all, there are serious responsibilities one must consider after deflowering a virgin tote bag. I suppose I could have tried to resurrect the palm-leaf flowers but they were so trashed, so lifeless, and so...brown; and it just wouldn't be a true "Crazy Crafty" project unless a strong dose of color was injected.
Continuing in my preferred medium of craft store yarn, I made
pom pom flowers in the other two colors I had in the stash.
A minimally invasive facelift with maximum results.
After all the effort of the sad sack makeover, I decided
that a fabric lining would be the perfect finishing touch.
With the tote bag complete, the thought occurred to me that anyone foolish enough to carry a full lamb's-worth of yarn around on a second-hand purse during the summer months might also need some protection from the sun (if not the curious stares of passers-by).
Using the purse as a guide, I embroidered a Put A Lid On It Sun Hat with the same leaf-and-pom pom-flower motif.
Just like the newly-refurbished tote bag, the hat is also topped by a pom pom.
As I've mentioned time and again, a matchy-matchy ethos is the backbone of wacky tacky design. So while the hat may not share a similar provenance to the tote the way a sombrero would, we think that this matching set is perfect for a Puerto Vallarta pool party or a caprice in Cabo San Lucas.
"Pardon me, do you know the way to San Jose?"
With all this talk of south-of-the-border souvenirs, we are in the mood to take a "Tijuana Taxi" for another round of swinging souvenir shopping!!! So much for our big clean-up and clear-out...
"Tijuana Taxi" - Heb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass (Scopitone)
I know what you're thinking, "MORE sun hats?!?!!! This fool has got to be kidding!!!" Well, as long as the sun shines in the great state of California, sun hats will always be a necessity. Furthermore, this post has nothing whatsoever to do with thePut A Lid On It Sun Hats by Mr. Tiny, currently available on Etsy (that doesn't mean that there isn't time for a shameless little p-p-puh-plug). Rather, this post has everything to do a with a vintage hat pattern that I unearthed from the bottom of a pattern avalanche that I received several years ago as a hand-me-down from my grandmother.
At first glance, the illustration led me to believe that the undated pattern might've been from the
late-'60s-'70s. After reviewing the printing and instructions, I figured that it was probably from the
1980's, likely a classic pattern that had been in print for a number of years by Muggins Original Stuff (a company from whom it appears an interested party might still potentially acquire a copy).
A one-sheet pattern, I nearly disposed of it, doubting seriously my ambition for creating sun hats (my, my, how times have changed). Recognizing that certain timeless styles remain perennially en vogue, I decided to retain it in the Mr. Tiny pattern archives, feeling deep within my hoarder's heart that it would eventually come in handy.
Hoping to invoke the spirit of Joan and Thelma, and evoke a style reminiscent of these other
floppy-hatted beachside beauties, I pulled the "Fun in the Sun" hat pattern from the vaults.
(Source A, B, C, D, E, F)
Also from the vaults came this sturdy rayon-linen blend printed with charming sprays of pink
dogwood blossoms. I've had this fabric so long that it has actually moved house with me twice!
I had the pattern, the inspiration, the fabric, and a free afternoon; nothing was to stop me from diving head first into this hat (please, do not pardon the pun; it only encourages me).
I decided to skip the frivolity of the scalloped brim (View 2) and the superfluous sunglass holder (View 3) in favor of the simplicity of View 1. That isn't to say that I followed the instructions word-for-word (definitely not my strong suit). I ignored the warning against fusible interfacing (for a reason known only to the high heavens, I used fusible AND non-fusible interfacing), I extended the depth of the brim by 2" all around, and opted to assemble the hat in a way that suited my dubious understanding of garment/hat construction as opposed to the pattern-maker's expert instruction.
Instead of attaching ready-made ribbons to the finished hat, as per pattern instructions,
I made my own ties out of the fashion fabric and sewed them into the seam for a more finished look.
I might not have fully committed myself to the instructions but I did love the editorial commentary peppered
liberally throughout: "Everything cut out? Machine threaded? Radio turned to your favorite station?
How about a can of pop and a couple of cookies? O.K....Everything in place, so let's get sewin'."
Radio? Cookies? Pop?!?!! If this was my grandma's house in the '70s-'80s, it would've
been Donahue on the TV, a handful of Excedrin, and an ice-cold chaser ofTab!
The hat went together quickly and easily but I, of course, failed to take any progress pictures - I wasn't about to disrupt my hat making rhythm!
Because our house model is out of town, I had to employ our far more
reliable, exceedingly more cooperative standby, "Hat-tie McDaniel."
Just imagine what it would like like with a little bit of hair!
The last departure I made from the original hat pattern was electing to eliminate the multiple rows of topstitching on the brim; I like the way it looks without but I think the topstitching would provide a bit more body and stability. I might change my mind by the time our live mannequin returns ready to model the complete look (yep, I can't help myself from making matchy-matchy hat ensembles). What a cliffhanger!!! Will Mr. Tiny take to the topstitch or will the broad brim remain bare? Stay tuned!!!
Have you sewn a hat before? Is it possible that Ms. Crawford would deign to don our "Fun in the Sun Hat?" What do you think, is floppy too sloppy, or would you wear a floppy, floral, flapper-inspired beach hat?
Where do we come up with these crazy phrases, phrases like, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth?" I have never found a single occasion to look any standard-issue horse in the mouth, let alone a benevolent gift horse. I must admit that until very recently I hadn't given much thought to this particular barnyard idiom. In actual fact, whenever the phrase was uttered I couldn't help but picture a nattily-dressed thoroughbred rapping at the door with a beautifully-wrapped gift box in hand hoof. But who was this horse and on what occasion would he be obliged to give me a gift? I kind of assumed that this was vestigial phraseology, lingering long after the demise of some ancient culture whose venerated horse figure, "Father Equus," - very much akin to our Santa Claus - once a year blessed the good, little children with a bounty of gold, and frankincense, and myrrh (if it's good enough for Him, it's good enough for me), and hay. However, the question remained, why would I look in his mouth?!!
Upon reflection, I suppose the real sentiment is that when given a gift (in this case a horse), it is decidedly bad form for one to appraise the quality and value of the gift (in this case inspecting the mouth of said horse). Instead, one should simply be thankful for the generosity behind such a spectacular gift - I mean, who at some point in his life hasn't wished (in vain) for a pony? This was a full-grown horse!
Our gift fabric...or is it our fabric horse???
Not so very long ago, our pal, Charles Phoenix, gifted us with roughly two-and-a-half yards of the most brilliantly-colored, vaguely-tiki (maybe rustic, mid-century Scandinavian folk?) printed material, exhorting me to turn it into something great. The yardage turned out to be a decent-sized, vintage tablecloth. As a collector of vintage tablecloths, I am typically one to "let sleeping tablecloths lie," unless they have completely outlived their use as such. This tablecloth happened to be in excellent condition; nevertheless, Charles had issued the gift with a specific challenge. Not wanting to appear the equine equivalent of the Grinch, I figured the best way to honor our great Gift Horse was to give his tablecloth a brand new life (and avoid even a fleeting glance into his mouth).
Proof that not all of my sketches skew blonde!
Letting the fabric be my guide, I opted to make Mary a three-
piece, tiki-inspired playsuit (shorts, top, and cover-up).
It was an outfit that seemed ideally suited for the scorching heat of the Viva Las Vegas car show and for her Ponyboy Magazinephoto shoot.
I thought it was a bit cheeky to feature the large flower pattern on the
bra top which also features traditional shoulder and halter straps.
(Photo courtesy of Alexander Thompson/Ponyboy Magazine)
After making a fully-lined top and shorts, the tablecloth fabric was running low. To subsidize it, I used a coordinating cotton in solid yellow for the body of the cover-up, binding the center front and side vents in tablecloth remnants. There was just enough material left to make patch pockets and a sash (finished with those signature yarn pom poms).
I trimmed the "Put A Lid On It" sun hat with coordinating yarn (vertical stripes and the obligatory pom pom) and bound it with the fashion fabric. Isolating a couple of flowers from the design motif, I machine-appliquèed them onto the headscarf. The sunglasses were an acquisition made during our trip to Japan last year.
(Photo courtesy of Alexander Thompson/Ponyboy Magazine)
In the end, by examining the fabric, measuring it, and determining its worth as a garment, I suppose that I am guilty of the very behavior I was so earnestly trying to avoid - looking a gift horse in the mouth. The thing is, I like what I saw and indeed it made me all the more grateful for the gift...or the horse. I really think this whole thing could be cleared up with some simple rewording; "Never look a horse gift in the mouth." "Never look in a horse's gift mouth?" "Never gift a horse's mouth without looking in it?" Shoot, when someone gives you a gift, just say "Thank you." Thank you, Charles.
These pictures are a bit of a bonus because they are probably my favorites from the Ponyboy style editorial by the generous and talented photographer, Alexander Thompson. Of course, my favorite photos feature an outfit of which I only really made half. The entire outfit is vintage, but the simple, dirndl skirt was made by me from a length of vintage material that was also a gift from Charles. Teal and white dahlias/spider mums highlighted in gold - they just don't make exciting border prints like they used to!!!
(Photo courtesy of Alexander Thompson/Ponyboy Magazine)
Replace "Ed" with "Tiny" and it all makes so much sense...
So where do you stand on the gift/horse/mouth issue? Have you ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, yea or naaaaaaaay? Did you like what you saw?
Soooooo....it has become apparent to me that our subconscious suburban safari has been extended, with us managing to trek even further into the sartorial Serengeti. You'll soon see what I mean....
I've been on a sewing/crafting kick that is showing no signs of stopping and that is something about which I will not complain. I'm getting a lot of satisfaction out of creating things that I feel are a better representation of my design sensibility and an opportunity to hone my skill set.
The last thing Mary needs is more options in her full-to-bursting closet but when I get the itch to create, she is always happy to make the trip to buy more hangers. With yet another example of Mr. Tiny's "Put a Lid On It" sun hats and a matching frock, Mary had a nice, new ensemble to don for the sun-soaked, grand opening of the Anaheim Packing House (est. 1919).
Anaheim Packing House - Anaheim, CA
Well, I guess that technically it was the grand re-opening. First opened in 1919 as the central location for the processing and packing of Anaheim's abundant citrus crop, the Packing House has endured the ups and (mostly) downs of Anaheim's old downtown. With a history that also includes life as a semi-questionable, less-than-savory living space, the Packing House has been completely rehabilitated with a definite eye toward historic preservation. It is now a community space that houses multiple cafes, bars, and vendors of artisanal foods. Things are looking up in downtown Anaheim!
As one might expect, it was a packed house at the Packing House on opening day. Fortunately, from patios to park space to a cozy backyard, the Packing House offers plenty of charming outdoor space. With friends, we escaped the crowds for some fresh-air photo ops.
Now do you see what I mean about our extended suburban safari?
I don't know why it didn't occur to me immediately, but this fabric print, an African
print (duh) from one of my favorite discount stores, screams mid-century safari!
Prints can be tricky for me (I usually dream in solid colors) but the
simplicity of the dress' silhouette required a print that packed a wallop -
perfect for a day at the Packing House!!!
I redrafted a halter pattern to include a peek-a-boo, triangular cutout in the back bodice.
It really is just a peek-a-boo; those ties ended up being pretty concealing.
I hadn't sewn a proper dress in a while so I decided to attach the fully-lined bodice to a 3/4 circle skirt.
I've always been a fan of repurposed buildings; the idea of living in an old firehouse, post office, church, or barn is very appealing. There must be a great thrill in bringing bustling new life to a space that has fallen into disrepair. The revitalization of the Packing House is a true inspiration; it is definitely the crown jewel of the new downtown Anaheim and we have high hopes for its long-term success!
I have earned the dubious reputation amongst the wacky tacky inner circle for having "visions." I'll concede that where others might see the ephemeral essence of a dollar-store decoration, I see a vision of a Halloween heirloom. Where others see the only the utilitarian use of the lid to a candy jar, I see visions of magnolia magic. Where others see the limitations of an ordinary, household placemat, I see visions of the Land of Oz. Far be it from me to refer to myself as a visionary, but when it comes to DIY hat crafting, the vision is clear - ignorance to proper millinery procedure is bliss!
The Bat Hat (reworked from a few 99¢ Only Store decorations).
The Sweet Magnolia Blossom (built on the lid of a candy container). The World's Biggest Munchkin (a manipulated, clearance-aisle placemat).
For once in my hat-making/trimming career (a resumé line item yet to be fully exploited), I decided to go a completely conventional route by starting with an actual and properly-constructed hat base. This time, where others would see a souvenir sunhat from Chinatown, I too would see a souvenir sunhat from Chinatown. I mean...it's a hat. But in this simple souvenir sunhat, I would also envision a blank canvas just dying for a bit of wacky tacky adornment. It was time to fire up every man's favorite power tool - the old hot glue gun!
One of the most life-affirming moments one can ever experience comes when all of the supplies required to accomplish a project are already on hand. One time (more than a decade ago) a friend tried unsuccessfully to teach me elementary crochet, so naturally, I still had a million colors of yarn poised at the ready; the green coordinated well with the fabric I was using to make Mary a playsuit. Knowing that a giant pom pom was unquestionably the icing on this conical cake, I set about to bind the edge of the hat and make a scarf tie with floral appliqués from the fashion fabric.
When one pom pom won't suffice, opt for pom pom trim (some prefer to call it ball fringe but I am not among them).
Using a range of hues from the rich ric rac inheritance bequeathed by my great-grandmother, I applied a combination of my two favorite embellishments.
I guess that there's no escaping the pom pom. To achieve the pom pom topper on this hat, I cut thin strips of an African-print fabric (China, Africa, America??? How's that for a multicultural headwear?). I gathered rows of the
same fabric to make the ruffled stripes and the kerchief tie.
I was surprised to derive nearly as much satisfaction from decorating conventional hats as I do from making them from found objects and repurposed materials. Yes, this turn at conventional hat decorating was definitely rewarding but I still needed to explore my more unconventional roots.
When I came upon this beauty at the thrift store, I was quick to grab it,
thinking I was the luckiest mock-milliner in the world to find a hat
worthy of Gidget's sun-allergic best friend, LaRue. It wasn't until
I saw the plastic liner that I realized it was a woven plant pot.
Adhering to the three-poms-are-better-than-one rule, I choose to believe that this is what the
designers at Hot Dog on a Stick were going for before they settled on their best design effort.
Have you tried your hand at hat making or hat trimming? Have you found the joy available to you in home pom-pom making? I have at least one hundred more ideas but I need to wait for Chinatown to replenish their hat supply. I guess I'll use that time to put the finishing touches on all the matching outfits. Stay tuned!
