Sew What?! Santa Clarita Meets Santa Maria

Please stop me before I've gone too Chico's.  There is a fine line between bohemian/folky/ethnic chic and a full-blown Southwest nightmare - and I'm having to learn where to draw it.  Not that there is anything wrong with Chico's; it's only that Mary is just barely twenty-two and not quite ready to ride off into that great sunset of Santa Fe-senior sophistication.

Santa Maria in Mr. Tiny's Mexicali Folk Couture
Nevermind the blue wristband...check out those cool, cowgirl gauntlets!

This past weekend, Tiny & Mary were thrilled to be part of the annual Santa Clarita Cowboy Festival where we shared the stage with our pals Deke Dickerson and the rip-roarin'est kings of the Hollywood honky-tonk, The Lucky Stars.

File this under awkward family photos.
Dan, Mary, Tiny, Russ, Sage, Pappy, Andy, Djordje,
with Deke front and center...but where's Wally?!?!!

As the event landed within a few days of Mary's birth, she was definitely entitled to one new outfit, one that would hopefully work for our performance.  Ours was a daytime affair, so instead of going the rhinestones and fringe route, I opted for something a little more casual, a little more sultry, and a little more inspired by looks found south of the border.

Our little Santa Maria is still "on the fence" as to whether this looks
artistic or like the climax of an old-west melodrama.  Or maybe both?

In the steadily-reducing fabric stash at Mr. Tiny's Workshop, I discovered a remnant of multi-colored, woven fabric of indeterminate origin (my best guess is Peru).  The oddly shaped piece, garnered at an estate sale as part of a bin of fabric, had already been cut and used by its previous owner (a seamstress and lover of ethnic textiles); there was so little usable material left that I almost put it in the rag bag.  Mary rescued the remnant and it became the top of this two-piece entry into Mr. Tiny's Mexicali Folk Couture.

On the balcony with a balconette top.
I rather inappropriately think of those decorative accents at the neckline as
"eyebrows;" some perfunctory internet research indicated that tops of this nature
can be referred to as "balconettes."  Help me out here, vintage sewing pals???

Because I had only enough to barely eke out the bra-top, I began the hunt for fabric in a complimentary style.  I drove to nearly EVERY fabric store in the Western Hemisphere, even perusing the stalls at that lovable, little tourist-trap known as Olvera Street, to no avail.  I was not looking for a match.  In fact, I was happy with the idea of an altogether mismatched set.  Nothing I found, however, had the same weight, the same richness, nor the same quality as that damnable little scrap of fabric with which I began this whole mess...until I remembered that there was another, much larger, woven textile found in the same tub of fabric at the same estate sale, a piece I had looked at every day during my search but had tuned out because it was being used as a throw over a chair.

Using every last inch of the material, I gathered it into a long,
patio-style skirt, using solid black for the alternating tiers.

After the show, we went to explore the festival grounds, situated on the historic estate of William S. Hart.  The 1927 Spanish-Colonial mansion, the cactus, and the slowly-sinking sun were an ideal backdrop for a few photo-ops.

But maybe the sun had sunk a little too low for this picture...
Nevertheless, the view from the Hart mansion is 360-degrees of beautiful hill country.

Justifiably unsatisfied with my pitiful photography skills, Mary
set the auto-timer on her phone and captured this photo of herself.

As this was our first time at The Santa Clarita Cowboy Festival, we were unsure of exactly what to expect.  As it happens, the festival is a full family affair with activities for everyone.  Next year, I plan to make a long weekend out of it and listen to some of that cowboy poetry, hear a few more bands, rope 'n ride 'n wrangle, and get there well before all the barbecue is sold out!

Happy to finally be standing next to a real cowboy/frontiersman,
Santa Maria thought this guy was Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, and
Buffalo Bill all rolled into one!

Well, what do you think?  Have I strayed too far into the land of metal lizards and copious amounts amber jewelry?  Are this ensemble and this guy haunting your desert dreams?  Fortunately, with this photo set, I think we're giving neither Chico's nor any of our photographer pals need to worry that were moving in on their territory!

Mr. Tiny & the wacky tacky adventure team say, "'Happy Trails,' until we meet again, Mr. Hart!!!"

"Happy Trails" - Roy Rogers & Dale Evans

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Collecting: The Best Vintage Valentine Ever!

Sometimes I question how deeply rooted my understanding of the human condition is in the scripted television programs of the late 20th Century.  I was fortunate never to have experienced the grade-school humiliation associated with an empty mailbox come time for the yearly valentine exchange.  Frankly, it never even seemed like an option; twenty-eight kids in the class meant twenty-eight cards given and twenty-eight cards received (granted, I was in the first wave of Project Self-Esteem, better known as Project EVERYONE is a winner).  Nevertheless, many television shows presented the now-hackneyed construct of the well-intentioned but hopelessly-geeky kid, forlorn at the absence of valentine cards in his construction-paper inbox (see: Raph Wiggum, et al.).

Hopelessly geeky myself, I always found it hard to reconcile the bevy of Valentine's goodies I received first through fifth grade - even harder still as an adult when exchanging valentines is anything but compulsory.  Imagine my surprise when I opened my actual mailbox and found the best vintage valentine ever!  Sent from my pal, and major wacky tacky booster, Charlotte (via a mutual friend's yard sale), I found Günthers Karneval Fasching, a mid-Century, German booklet of fancy-dress fashions.

Günthers Karneval Fasching
After looking at this cover one too many times, all I can see is a sexy Jane Pauley!

While technically not a valentine (Karneval/Fasching is essentially Deutschland's answer to Mardi Gras), and sent with intentions entirely platonic, I can't help but view the timing and the cover girl's heart-bedecked top hat as a happy holiday greeting.  At only fourteen pages, this booklet is filled with the most colorful cornucopia of carnival costumes I have ever seen.  Get ready to have your socks knocked off!

I love the arrow and handwriting on this one; "dieses oberteil" means "this top/bodice."
I suppose we'll always be left to wonder what the bottom half looked like - if there was
a bottom half.  Flashing at Fasching; it is Karneval!

Aren't these incredible?!?!!  Often self-critical, I've been known to deride my own designs as being far too "costume-y."  I guess I'm not so off base considering that, with a few minor tweaks/edits, I would find it exciting if people wore the designs featured in Günthers Karneval Fasching as everyday clothing.  Even more exciting is that the pamphlet included the complete pattern to each and every costume.  And, if my high school German still serves, I understand that "each style comes in two sizes" very clearly printed and labeled on a two-sided pattern sheet...

Oh boy...
I've heard of vintage patterns printed in such a fashion but I've never been
confronted by such a mess!  Instead of going permanently cross-eyed, I might
just have to settle for drooling over the technicolor images. 

Thank you, thank you, Charlotte, for "Choo-Choo-Choosing" me as the recipient of your thoughtful gift (and for mailing it to me).  Any mail that isn't a bill, a ticket, or a jury summons is good mail.  Any mail that I can consider a valentine when my construction paper mailbox went dry more than twenty years ago is great mail.  Any mail that is a 1950s, German, Mardi Gras-fashion booklet is the best vintage Valentine ever!  Ich liebe meinen antiker Valentinsgruß!!!

"Sei Mein Valentin"

Happy Valentine's Day, you wacky tacky turkey necks!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Sketching A Showgirl

I am of the completely-unqualified opinion that everyone has at least a little bit of OCD.  Whenever I become self-conscious of my own bizarre behavior, all I have to do is observe the "highly-questionable" conduct of others and silently express my gratitude for not being totally out of control like the lady I saw on TV who must perform every task on an even minute (e.g. 12:20 flush the toilet, 7:38 turn on the light, 9:44 lock the door, etc.), or my friend who counts his steps (ten steps to the front door, twenty-three to the car).  I am so forgetful that I am lucky to remember to lock the door, let alone count down to the appropriate tick of the clock, and so lazy that I max out around fifty steps before I call it a day.  I suppose we're all lucky that our own little exhibitions of compulsive behavior don't seem that weird to us.  One odd way in which my OCD manifests is in designing/creating a sewing project, especially when it is a Halloween costume!

Until I begin cutting and sewing, I will endlessly sketch pictures of the design concept.
Unable to focus on any other form or figure, I will obsessively draw and redraw the same (or
similar) image over and over and over again on almost any available surface - napkins, shopping
lists, envelopes, paper plates, bills; nothing is safe.

Like obsessively...
I think the only reason I sew (a practice I've always viewed as a necessary evil), is simply to get the
idea out of my head and into real life, finally allowing myself move on to the next great obsession.

Creative sewing can sometimes mean releasing conceptual control and allowing the materials to dictate the direction a project will take.  Burdened with yards and yards of a ruby red, swap-meet-quality fabric that we'll refer to as velveteen (more like flocked "velvette" or something akin to those weird moleskin-type, inflatable neck pillows used for flying), and a couple yards of floral, raspberry brocade, it was obvious that Mary's Halloween costume would have to be some kind of showgirl.  The saturated hues of the velveteen and floral brocade were crying out, "Make us a saloon girl!"  Not willing to abdicate total power, however, I thought about something a little less specific - western influenced maybe, but hopefully evoking a bit of Hollywood glamour as well.

After nearly a zillion rough drafts, this was the final design, very
much inspired by showgirl costumes of '40s cinema.

Sure, there have been far better and far more elaborate showgirl costumes but I was actually pretty proud of myself for this design - mostly because the only thing I had to purchase was the zipper and, unable to find anything suitable, I drafted my very own pattern.  Having absolutely no technical knowledge of legitimate pattern drafting, I used Mr. Tiny's tried and true hope-and-pray method.  I was even more proud of myself that, however far from perfect, I only had to make a couple of minor pattern adjustments before cutting into the fabric. 

Breaking out every bit of red fabric and and red trim I could find, I
learned that every value of red matches if one just uses them all.

The majority of the fully-lined, boned, strapless, one-piece garment was made of the velveteen, featuring the brocade at the center panel.  The princess seams were finished by a red gimp studded with red rhinestones.  The bust was adorned with two-layer bow and the seat was finished with a giant detachable bow and tails.  The choker was a remnant piece of velvet ribbon tied at the nape of the neck.    I even got ambitious and made a matching drawstring purse.  After having made them for at least two other "Sew What?!" projects, I still couldn't get past the water wing/arm floaties; I think they finish the costume in a far superior fashion to some corny, store-bought gloves.  With the body of the costume well under way, it was time for me to tackle the headpiece.

Always the dreamer, I had visions of a giant headdress with a towering arrangement of ostrich plumes.
Given my millinery budget of zero dollars and zero cents, I settled instead on the two random pheasant feathers from my stash; already red, if a little dark, I gave them the old rattle can once over.  Built upon a fabric-covered buckram frame, the hat's bottom layer is a gathered length of red, nylon netting.  The next layer is the raspberry brocade trimmed in pom poms, topped by the red velveteen adorned with red rhinestones, and followed by a final spray of red netting.  

Hoping to teach Mary some kind of responsibility (insert laughter - or maybe sad trombone - here), I put her in charge of stockings and shoes.  Let's just say that the day before Halloween I was driving her around town looking for nude fishnet stockings; on the day of Halloween, the Imelda Marcos of the Americas still hadn't figured out her shoe situation.  In what must have been her attempt to elicit an anxiety-induced coronary, she handed me a pair of the most random, lucite-heeled, yellowing, plastic mules I had ever seen.  I immediately reverted to my hope-and-pray method for an extreme shoe makeover.

The silver insole notwithstanding, these turned out better than I thought.
Honestly, I should have taken a before picture.

I covered the heel and the strap in velveteen, having the exact length
 of leftover gimp trim to finish the raw edges (how's that for a Halloween
 miracle?).  Never satisfied to leave well-enough alone, I of course made
bows to match! 

The funniest part about this design is that I'm normally not one to make costumes that might be deemed provocative.  In the best of circumstances, I am wholly confused by the parade of overly-sexualized costumery (as outlined yearly by our pal, Kimmie) that marches forth during the Halloween season.  The fact that this costume is rather bare didn't even occur to me until we were at our friends' unbelievably-awesome and atmospheric Halloween party where I caught a couple of creepers ogling Ol' Stretch.

Rather than "sexiness," the intention of this costume was about invoking the spirit of
Annette at The Golden Horseshoe and other similar cinematic showgirls; I think it worked!

Well, what do you think?  Was the obsessive sketching worth the effort?  What was your costume this year - tell the truth, was it sexy?  More importantly, did you Trick-or-Treat?

"Trick-or-Treat" (1952)

We hope that whatever you wore and whatever you did, your Halloween nightmares dreams all came true!  We're already excitedly planning for next year!  HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny