Thursday, May 21, 2015

I Call This One "Somebody Else can Press the Damn Skirt"

More Peau D'ane. Maybe? For her moon or stars dress? Who knows. This is another "here, take this tutu and this thrift store salwar kameez and make it a Cinderella dress"
I refrained from making another lace-up Swiss waist, but only because I don't want another teenager to hate me. ONE IS ENOUGH.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Princess Furball (or Whatever)

My instructions for this were just that it had to be a Cinderella dress that "looked like the sun". I'm not certain which version we are dealing with, but that pretty much sounds like Peau D'ane to me. Or Catskin, or Sapsorrow, or Princess Furball, or... You get the idea. Princess Furball was pretty much my jam back in elementary school. That and The Paperbag Princess.
So, anyway. Peau D'ane is a Cinderella story with a princess who goes to three balls, wearing three beautiful gowns: one as silver as the moon, one as golden as the sun, and one as sparkling as the stars. There you go, that is pretty much all you need to know.
I was given a plain little white romantic tutu and an ugly (and boxy) thrift-store Indian (?) skirt and blouse of orangey cationic chiffon with beaded front panels. And then told to do whatever. But without being able to fit the dress on the girl who will be wearing it, so it needed to be somewhat adjustable, stretchy, and forgiving. I was also instructed to add sleeves come hell or high water. This is what I ended up with using only the materials provided:

It really did not photograph well. And in the end I had to get it done in a hurry, so some of the sparkle and jazz that was going to go on the white bodice never happened. Sigh... Anyhow, I left the boob region mostly uncovered, for the sake of fit. The little underbust bustier thingy laces up the back (again, for the sake of fit) and I love it and want one! The sleeves are puffy, which you would be able to see if I had bothered to put the arms on my display form. The skirt is slit down the center front so that the white skirt tulle flashes through as she leaps, mostly to balance out all that white on the bodice that I couldn't get rid of. It looks pretty awesome on the girl, but I am almost sure she despises it because it takes so long to get in to and requires a helper. I dunno, guys, I just don't know.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015


The theme for this year's recital is Cinderella. All the Cinderellas. So many.
This is a goose hat for the little girls portraying geese/footmen in Tattercoats, an English variant of the story. I wish I could find a picture to show you, but the internet has failed me. Regardless, the hats are based on an illustration for a 1976 picture book version. You are just going to have to trust me that they are a pretty good facsimile.
Now, here's the thing. Each story was supposed to have five dancers doing their thing. You know, five geese. Or five lily pads. Or birds, or whatever. But it keeps changing. There are currently TEN geese. This is why I see no particular end in sight for this recital sewing. It's like little girls keep coming out of the woodwork. If you haven't been to class in six months do you really need to be in the recital? Holy cow, people.
Many goose hats:

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Can't Stop

The work. The work. It's endless! It just goes on and on! I am actually missing classes because I need the time and energy to make recital costumes! Aye carumba. And? I haven't even started on the adults, yet!
I will post some photos soon, so you know I am still alive.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

I can't so I will

I don't often feel compelled to post about something that is just going to go viral in 12 hours, anyway (I mean, I was tempted to complain about how saggy Misty Copeland's Odette tutu was, but I controlled myself), but this hit me right in the feels:
Here's where I found it (linky linky)

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Career Planning With RPrin

I'm sure everyone has their regional weird dancing road-side mascots. At least... I sure hope so. I would hate to think that only in California can you experience the joy of sitting in traffic while watching a dude in a chicken suit do a little two-step and wave a large sign extolling the virtues of the $4.99 lunch buffet...
Tonight on my way to class I passed a Liberty Tax sign waver that was really giving it his all. Quite an impressive display of commitment to the dancing mascot job. On my way HOME from class (admittedly, I left early, but still) he was STILL going at it! Talk about stamina!
Now, me? I have often thought about the possibilities. You could work on your dance moves AND get paid? How awesome is that? Probably really flexible hours, too. But no Lady Liberty for me, guys. For me it'd have to be Mr. Pickles. Work on your moves, get paid... BUT ALSO no one could tell who you are! Just make sure you don't wear really unique shoes or expose any identifying leg tattoos.
Imagine a person dressed in an anthropomorphic pickle suit busting out a tour jete or performing a graceful rendition of the Dying Swan. You'd want to go in and buy a sandwich, am I right?
Is it the perfect job? I don't know, but it's got to be better than retail.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

It Begins

Recital season. It isn't really approaching all that quickly, you know? It's a couple of solid months until the performance. Regardless, I am already working on costumes. It's good, really, to get started ages in advance because the Summer brings with it an early theater season and a wedding I have to sew for/do anything else I am asked to for. Also, apparently I am supposed to make all sorts of stuff from scratch for this recital? Which was news to me, but whatever. I've been dragging home piles and wads of tutus, dresses, fabrics, and even a couple of thrift-store wedding gowns that I am going to be chopping to bits. My sewing studio is already a sight to confound and distress.
It's not supposed to look like this.
 Would you believe I have a proper cutting table? You wouldn't know it from that stupid cutting board on the floor that I perpetually use to the detriment of every joint in my body...

Anyway, that is the state of the very small sewing-related union. I'm currently mid-way (or less, there might be more girls added to the dance) through turning five really ugly little tutus in to water lily costumes for a group of teeny tiny girls (maybe 5-6 years old? So small.) Here is an awful blown-out flash-in-a-dark-room-at-10pm glimpse of the progress:
Well, you can see what I'm getting at, anyway.
They would be much cuter worn with little froggy head dresses, IMO.