Crazy Crafty: wacky tacky Tree Toppers Two Ways

Grandmas are so crafty, spending countless hours leading up to every holiday ping-ponging between their Pfaffs, tangles of yarn and crochet hooks, and shakers full of glitter.  The only thing more comforting than learning the myriad ways in which pom-poms and bits of felt can be transformed into everything from tree skirts to toilet-paper cozies was the warmth of being gathered into the suffocating succor of her bosomy embrace.

This Christmas' Crazy Crafty projects should prove every bit as comforting as granny crafts of yore; but just imagine, instead of a sweet old granny, a large man of equally heavy bosom slinging a glue gun as hot as a two-dollar pistol.  Struggling every year to find the tree topper of my dreams, it finally came time to make one - or two - of my own.

Early drafts of potential tree toppers were expected to follow the cone-shaped body of this
angelic Phyllis Diller lookalike.  But Phyllis' stick-straight lines just weren't going to cut
it for the more womanly angel that I had in mind. 

Inspiration struck in the curvy form of a bell!  As per usual, my craft-making ethos is, "If it ain't in the stash or it can't be found at the 99 Cents Store, then it's probably not going to happen."  So, I headed to the mecca of the impecunious crafter, finding among other sundries a set of three graduated, silver bells.  Gathering metallic rickrack, tinsel pipe cleaner, glitter tulle, and the disembodied doll parts that my brother and his wife found in a dark corner of their garage (p.s.  If you think I'm creepy, what does that say about them and their garage), I began to assemble my angel.

My supplies - if it doesn't include a toilet-paper roll, liquid-soap bottle, or
cottage cheese container then it doesn't really count as a granny craft, does it?

"If I were a bell, I'd be ringing!"

I covered the cardboard roll with colored paper and secured it inside the large bell base.
I shrouded a smaller bell in glitter tulle and finished it with a band of rickrack at the
bottom and at the neckline.

I "fleshed out" the upper arms with tinsel pipe cleaner. 

You little snow angel!

I fashioned the wings and the silver petal peplum out of a deconstructed Christmas flowers from the 99.
The skirt is several layers of the tulle, gathered and then trimmed in rickrack. 

I won't say that my mom was dismayed exactly; perhaps "confused" is a better word for her mental state when she discovered two of her thirty-something sons excitedly discussing the merits of DIY doll making and the results of such.  Forgetting about the bag of doll parts he had donated to the cause, my brother though that the snow angel was vintage - a compliment indeed!

Maybe she couldn't appreciate it because she hadn't notice how liberally
I applied the half-used packet of sticky-backed rhinestones to the skirt.

Never one to leave tacky enough alone, I spied the one remaining unadorned figural lady lamp among the wacky tacky archives (you may recall from the Crazy Crafty post about "The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Lamp" that independently of one another, each of my brother's gave me the same sexy-lady lamp base).  Momentarily angry at myself for heretofore overlooking her obvious holiday charms, I quickly realized that it was not too late to explore her tree-topping potential.

"Merry Christmas, boys!"

Following similar steps to the snow angel tree topper, I made a teal under dress with a full circle skirt and an over dress of teal netting trimmed in iridescent rickrack and rhinestones.

Wanting to disguise the socket, I found among the christmas hoardings a fully-lit, flashing tree topper.
Remembering that there exists such a thing as a socket -to-outlet converter, I hid the wires and plugged it in.

I think the tinsel headdress transforms this snow girl into
 a full-on showgirl - an ode to Electra from Gypsy.

Devil or angel?
I even made her stacks of rickrack-and-rhinestone bangles!

"I'm electrifyin' and I ain't even tryin'!"

Here shine the two of the wacky-tacky-est tree toppers in all of their glittering, yuletide glory.

Do you ever get the feeling, like you've created a cherished family 

heirloom before you've even had time to share your project?

I do.

As you can kind of see, the snow angel was awarded pride of place rather
than our version of "the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window."
It's a good thing for the runner-up that we have erected two christmas trees this year! 

Have you made any Christmas crafts this year?  If you're not thrilled with who sits atop your tree year after year, remember that granny always said, "Idle hands are the devil's playground;" get those holiday hands busy and make your own wacky tacky tree topper!

"You Gotta Get a Gimmick" from Gypsy (1962)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Lamp

Bad taste runs in my family.  For the sake of familial accord at the holidays, however, I'm not naming any names.  But there is a certain relative of my mother's who is notorious for her living room, an unprecedented combination of purple chenille sofas, red-and-orange throw pillows, modernist art in a traditional-southwest palette of peach and turquoise, and reproduction Louis XIV-style chairs upholstered in toile.  It doesn't end there.  Like the shallowing gene pool of European royalty, I am a victim descendant of inbred tackiness.  When my paternal grandparents were alive, they made their home in the desert where "rock lawns" are not an unusual landscape option; they decided to up the ante by covering the rocks in their front yard with a rich, if wholly-unnatural, coat of deep-green, semi-gloss paint - touching up annually or as needed.  Somehow, instead of disdain, I find comfort in my forebears' gifts of eclecticism and spirit of make-do that were certainly a byproduct of Depression-era economics.  wacky tacky courses through my veins.

It should come as no surprise then that I was beside my self with joy when my older brother gifted me a figural lamp in the shape of a woman.  It didn't matter that the lamp came with no harp, no shade, no base, and more than a few nicks and dings.  He couldn't even be bothered to throw down a lightbulb.  No less than ten years later, I have finally made time to give this lady lamp a makeover and allow her to really shine!

This old girl has definitely been around the block.

Fortunately, the wiring was sound, so all she needed was a skirt, a shade, and some TLC.  I had spent portions of the past decade halfheartedly searching for the proper base.  It wasn't until I was making the Put A Lid On It Sun Hat for Mary's Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Matchy-Matchy Rufflekini, that inspiration struck.  I didn't need a factory-issued base; would Grandma have bought new or would she have just made-do?!?!!   All this crazy crafter needed was a sun hat, a glue gun, and a dream!

The chipped paint on her yellowing face and an improper base might turn
some vintage purists away.  I, however, like the character of an imperfect
piece and the challenge of a make-do craft project.

The strapless bodice, opera-length gloves, and hands-behind-the-head posturing all seemed slightly provocative, implying that this was a lamp that could really "turn on."  In researching similar lamps, I found that the earliest examples of this style were really quite demure; the bodies were originally ceramic, affixed on a domed, wire-cage base covered in a fabric skirt (housing another bulb as a secondary light source), and topped with a dainty, ruffled lampshade.

Two views of the lady lamp on Mary Sue's (Reese Witherspoon) dressing table/desk in a
scene from Pleasantville, proving the lamp's provenance goes back at least as far as 1998.

When Underwriters' Laboratories, Inc. took over the patent, they 

began producing this and many other  lamps in molded plastic.

A basic sun hat would become the new skirt/base for the lamp.
To accommodate the cord, I cut the point off of the hat and created a
reinforced hole in the lower side panel where a small hole already existed.

I had the lamp.  I had the foundation for the skirt.  What I was lacking was direction.  Should I go authentic "repro" or should I go full wacky tacky?  Well, it took only two seconds before that question answered itself.  But I still needed inspiration...

wacky tacky, for sure...but I just couldn't get past the inherent va-va-va-voom!!!

"Pardon me, I'm undressed!"

Yes, the pose was saucy.  Yes, the extant examples were ladylike.  Was there a wacky tacky way to split the difference?  To quote wacky tacky icon, Carmen Miranda, "Sim, Sim!!!"  "The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat" would become the Lady in the Tutti Frutti Lamp!

An electrified ode to Ms. Miranda!!!
The skirt's ruffles are made of the same sparkling material from which Mary's most recent Happy Holiday Frock
was made (only in the acid-green colorway).  I strung a cluster of beads in an attempt to recreate Miranda's iconic layered jewelry.  I sewed on the puffed sleeves by hand before digging through my basket of whatnots to find
two fruit clusters that I salvaged from a weird pair of thrift store sandals.

 I added some flowers and leaves and fixed the hip corsage to the gold
rick rack trim.  There was already a lot going on but she still needed a topper.

The only item that I had to purchase for this project was the
least-expensive lamp shade that Ikea had to offer.  I, of course,
had to paint it gold inside and out, add a couple of fabric ruffles
bound by rick rack, and finish it off with the matching fruit cluster.

The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Lamp in action with my 1940s
Carmen Miranda Coloring Book (a special gift).  It just so happens
that we, like a million other Americans, have some of the same mid-
century, French Provincial furniture seen on the set of Pleasantville. 

I didn't want to permanently secure the lady lamp to the skirt/hat/foundation; just in case I ever got the 

notion to transform her again, I cleverly stabilized her by attaching the two uppermost layers of the skirt 

to each other and putting a sort of gasket inside the hat.  I love the fact that I didn't touch this lamp for
ten years and all of a sudden I think I'm going to need costume changes!!!

Did I mention that bad taste runs in my family?  No sooner had I started this Crazy Crafty project than my younger brother told me that he had the exact lamp in the exact same condition just waiting for Mr. Tiny's Copacabana Makeover.  It might not be too long before the Lady in the Tutti Frutti Lamp has a twin sister!  In fact, rather than a lamp, I might transform the twin into the most glorious toilet paper cozy that ever was!!!  Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi like that very much!

"The Lady in the Tutti Frutti Hat" - Carmen Miranda

from The Gang's All Here (1943)

"Boa Noite e sonhos doces, você wacky tacky gargantas do peru!"

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny