LaCroix, sweetie, LaCroix

If you've been keeping track of these things (and I'm sure you have, because WHAT could possibly be more important?) then you know about my long love affair with Christian Lacroix's beautiful Glove Seller costume, made for ABT a good 25 (or so) years ago. Well, since my original post and desperate search there has been a re-staging of the production, complete with an exhibition of the lovely costumes. And now, of course, there are ALL sorts of pictures of it!
And? I am going to share them all, because I can't stop looking at it!

(where I found it)

This fabulous picture is from a fitting.

(where I found it)

(where I found it)

Craftin' All Up in Here

I am completely in love with leotards that have mesh or lace components. At first I thought they would be cooler than sleeved leos ( I get SO sweaty), but I know better now and I still like the look. But DAMN they are expensive. Like, $40-60. In leotard land that is pretty darn spendy. So I said "to heck with that" and bought a cheap $17 camisole leotard on Amazon.com and a yard of stretch lace for $6 from my local fabric store and BAM:

 

It is stupidly difficult to photograph your own back, guys.

I begin to think the fates just don't want me to go to class

Okay, guys, so guess why I'm missing class tonight. Because the HVAC unit on my apartment has died so completely it can't be fixed and needs to be replaced, instead! Current indoor temperature: cold enough to wear a coat and fuzzy socks and still be cold. PLUS my sick rheumatic cat? She was doing swimmingly last week! But now? Not so much. So I am waiting for her vet to call. Soooooo....
No class this week, then.
Since I have missed so much class I've gained weight! I have no idea how much, but enough to make putting pants on an interesting struggle. Tomorrow I am cooking for Thanksgiving. The menu? Puff pastry/cheese hors d'œuvres, chocolate and cream cheese stuffed strawberries, truffles, and pumpkin angel food cake. Yes, sir, that right there is a great way to lose some pudge.
Aaaargh. 

check out these awesome thigh-high rainbow socks I have, though.

 (or you may have already, but that post got lost and I am out
of ideas so whatever) 

The courage of men TOTALLY fails

Sitting up late nursing a headache and waiting for the cat to calm down so I can administer subcutaneous fluids (YUCK, guys. Yuck.) and watching grainy and slightly (okay more than slightly) crooked videos of our studio's ballet recital (last Saturday) on YouTube. Thinking to myself oh how pretty they all look! And also OH I am glad I didn't try to do that. Seriously, guys. I get lost during tendus at the barre, trying to remember an actual ballet variation would be an exercise in ridiculousness. Especially right now with the moving and the cat stuff (and the gas tank on my commute vehicle being drained on two out of the past 3 work day mornings, and the plumbers in and out of the place every other day, and the having to work overtime several days a week, and and and...) I don't think my brain has room for choreography.
Maybe someday (as Aragorn once said) but it is not this day.

A Crown of Dead Bugs Sounds So Much Less Appealing

Oh, guys! Oh, guys! You know how my lifetime project is to make a classical tutu embellished in beetle wing embroidery? Well, I just found this incredible tiara online:

Did you just DIE? It's part of a parure (set with tiara, necklace, and earrings) made in 1884 or 1885 for Lady Granville from beetles given to her husband (the foreign secretary at the time) by the ambassador of Portugal.

On a different note: I am in the process of moving right now, and I am feeling decidedly low on energy as well as time. So, I apologize for the lateness of this announcement, but I want to thank Mercie et Chatons and The Traveling Dancer for nominating me for a Liebster Award. The "award" is actually not an award at all, it's a sort of meme, a pay-it-forward kind of way to help promote blogs that you read and love. I have basically no time (or brain power) to address it right now, but I will get around to it, I swear. Right about the time I can fish my actual computer out from behind the pile of boxes that is, in theory, supposed to transform a rather stuffy bedroom in to a sewing studio. I will keep you posted!

Not a real blog post

Just a video. Because I was compelled to watch it three times in a row yesterday...

Of Tutus and Beetle Wings

Like any crafty person I have what I think of as "lifetime" projects. I suppose you could call it a sort of creative bucket list (but I hate the term "bucket list". It sounds so stupid. I always visualize carrying around some big metal bucket with a leak in it). There are a lot of them. I want to complete a puff quilt (I started one years ago but then broke up with the guy I was making it for so PPPPBBBBBTT!) Build an herb garden growing wall. Stitch some ridiculously complicated  needlepoint version of the unicorn tapestries. One of my biggest lifetime projects has always been to put together a classical (pancake/platter-type) tutu (the whole thing. Bodice, skirt, plate/basque). I mean, I know how to do it, right? I just don't have any real reason to do it. I might at some point get stuck doing some horrid and disgusting alteration and/or repair work to one at the theater, but I really want to make one from scratch. Always have. Even when I wasn't dancing.
Recently, though, I was at a Renaissance faire with my peeps (yo) and saw a jewelry booth that reminded me of one of my other lifetime projects: beetle wing embroidery. If you're not familiar with it it's basically what sequins were invented to replace. In Asia (particularly Thailand, India, China, and Japan) there are these brilliantly iridescent wood-boring beetles. They only live for about a month, and afterwards you are left with their gorgeous exoskeletons. They've been used for ages as decoration, and pieces of fabric and clothing embroidered with them was always highly prized. You know that famous painting of Lady Macbeth wearing a green dress? This one:

That is actually a real dress. A theatrical costume. And it's entirely covered in beetlewing embroidery. you should click through here to see the real deal.
So anyway, I got to thinking about beetle wings and realized that my tutu project is going to need beading anyway... so... why not combine the two?
As this post is already too damn long I will try to wrap it up briefly.
Beetle wings come in lots of pretty color variations to choose from:

and my immediate thought was to sew them on to a black or dark green fabric. But, I am also quite taken with these antique pieces, where the wings are placed on a pale background:

So, now I have even more things to think about. Hmm... I'm pretty excited about how this tutu is going to turn out and I haven't even designed the silly thing yet. Of course, I have no one to make it for (excepting myself, and my weight is so unstable I certainly wouldn't want to do it now) and no room in my little apartment to store such a thing. But. I won't always live in a tiny apartment (hopefully) and as soon as I move I am buying some freakin' wings, 15 yards of diamond net and gettin' my groove on!

Never Was a Story of More Woe

Ballet! YAAAAY! Kermit flail!

For the past several years I have attempted to get my husband interested enough to go to a ballet performance with me. Our wedding anniversary and my birthday are right at the start of the ballet season, so there are always great shows going on that I would love to see (you know, for the occasion). But, my husband, bless his soul, while he's a wonderful man and happy to attend live musical performances and even some of the plays I work on, is not a dance man. He wasn't really raised with it and to a certain extent it's an acquired taste. So, while he is totally willing to attend the ballet with me he views it as taking one for the team, if you see what I mean. He imagines his boy parts will fall off as soon as the curtain goes up or something. I tell him (repeatedly!) that ballet dudes are super athletic stud-muffins who get to feel up the girl dancers like constantly, but OH NO it's still too girly for him (thank god he isn't a sports guy. I am willing to take almost anything in a man provided he doesn't watch sports).
But this year I decided TO HECK WITH IT and so I bought tickets for my mom and a girlfriend and we went to see Romeo and Juliet! YAAAAAY! Awesome!
I had a thoroughly enjoyable time. I probably haven't seen a live ballet for ten or eleven years, at least. Either they've put down some new and fascinating material on the stage or modern pointe shoes are SO much more quiet than they were 11 years ago. Squeaking and thumping was a constant component of the ballets I saw in my youth (eh, sonny!) and those gals in their pretty pale peachy Freeds were really super quiet. I know, because I got front row seats, yo. The better to appreciate the panting and sweating of the performers, right? Right.
Another cool thing: when I was ... maybe 11 or 12? One of the principal dancers with this company was a ballerina that I was SO in love with, named Nina Baratova. I got to see her dance the Sugar Plum Fairy, and it was totally the highlight of my year. She retired quite a while back but today we got to see her as a guest artist dancing Lady Capulet. I recognized her face on stage before I read the program, and that kind of amazes me. I have a miserable memory for names and faces.
Anyway, a lovely time was had by all, I tried not to fixate on the underarms of that purple dress that was obviously made with a dye that was no match for ballerina sweat, and I've had Pretty Piece of Flesh stuck in my head all evening. It's from the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack, almost the entirety of which (in fact, I hardly ever played this song, I didn't care for it) I used to listen to on infinite loop when I was in highschool, and that probably tells you exactly how old I am. Oddly enough, I didn't watch the movie all that much. But I still have that album on my iPod.

PS: It must be hard to die with your feet pointed so prettily. Twice.

PPS: Forget boys, I am going to the ballet with my girlfriends from now on.

Kickin' It Old School

I think what I love the most about Old School ballet dancers is that they just sort of look like regular people. They aren't waifishly frail and thin. They aren't devastatingly pretty. They are just ladies who rocked out in a difficult field.

Bonus:
I don't know what is going on, here:

Coinkydink

Because the internet adult ballet world exists as some sort of hive mind, Adult Beginner posted this photo at the same time that I took this one:

which is a spool of vintage rayon thread in an absolutely perfect ballet pink. Here it is sitting on my brand new and perfectly un-wrinkly dance tights, for comparison.

two great tastes that go great together

Here are two of my very favorite things in the world squooshed together for five minutes: Florence + The Machine and ballet:

Yessssss.....

Red Soles and Satin

Dita Von Teese's custom-made Louboutin pointe shoes.
No, really.
I ... I think I need to go lay down for awhile...

The Perfect Outfit For Those Future Pointe Photos?

Oh yes, I think so.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!!
The most amazing ballet ever in the world is coming to my state the DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY. But it's a 6+ hour drive! So, it's not exactly feasible.
But OH.
Oh.
OH OH OH.
I think I will go sit in a closet and rock mournfully for a few hours.

Poof, Puff, Pizazz!

The problem with ballet is familiarization. You stare at tutus and pointe shoes long enough and you slowly start to think of that sort of thing as... well... pretty. It's like when I worked at a fabric store. It wasn't a Jo-Anns type place it was a real fabric store that specialized in bridal, tailoring, and formal wear. And we had racks and cases and binders chock-full of sequined lace, Swarovski crystals, tiaras, tutu netting, etc. All the theaters in town, as well as all the pageant moms (shudder) and ice-skating costumiers shop there. And when I started I was kind of icked out by the bling, but after five years I had fully embraced the glitter and glam and I now paillet far more stuff than I probably should. I like to think I do it tastefully, but it is all relative. Anyway.
So. Ballet.
I was looking through best-and-worst-dressed celebrity lists (don't judge me!) and came across this on one of the latter:

 This is some variety of popular music star? I don't know, I haven't listened to radio outside of a grocery store in YEARS.

And anyway, I kind of liked it? I am not a big-skirt person. I kind of inwardly cringe whenever I attend a wedding with a bride in a giant poofy quinceanera skirt. My own wedding dress had a petticoat but was certainly not so big it forced my husband to stand several feet away from me. But six months of looking at tutus on the internet and I think this is adorable, guys.

 

The Red Shoesies Rockin' The House

So I earn my money by making things. But sometimes I get SUPER BORED of making clothes and working with big swathes of fabric and I just want to do something different for a day or two. So I make juggling bags and art dolls and purses and stuff and put them up online. Anyway, enough back story! Here is what I made last week while I was putting off doing real work:

 Vicky Page, guys! With tiny red pointe shoes, guys! Yeah, I know, right?

Of Pink Satin Slippers

Ballet is extremely tradition-based. Not just the actual dancing part, but everything else as well. The etiquette. The way you address a teacher, the way you end class with a bow and a round of applause (who are we applauding? Our teacher for giving a great class? Our stereo stand-in for a theoretical pianist? Ourselves? Way to go, us! Woo!) and last but not least the way we dress.
Thankfully lycra was invented and we don't have to wear baggy knitted stockings and knee-length dresses to class these days. BUT why wear tights at all? Isn't that a little silly? And the shoes! Now, don't get me wrong, I love the shoes. You all know by now how I feel about the shoes. But why the heck do we insist on wearing pink satin shoes with ribbons? It isn't really all that practical. There are better ways to do these things. Elastic happens, guys. But we still wear pink satin shoes with ribbons. Why, you may ask? Because when ballet really hit its stride as a performance art that is how women dressed. Like, all the time.  Here is what a pair of lady's shoes looked like, circa 1830*:

Remind you of anything?

*the picture of the silk slippers came from this site.

Pretty as a Peacock

So I found this amazing tutu picture and I had to share it. It's a classical platter tutu but instead of (or in addition to) a decorative plate over the net skirt it is covered in beautiful peacock feathers. The colors here are just amazing. Check this out, guys:

Okay, but I found it on Pinterest and it had been pinned twelve million times and linked from other people's links and blogs and tumblrs, so I don't really know where it came from. The farthest back I can follow it is this site. Anyway, if anyone knows who the image belongs to please tell me as I am happy to spread the lovin' all around. And if you own it and you are super pissed that I have it up just let me know and I will take it down. But, seriously? It's all over the place, dudes, so good luck with that.
(PS: no really, I am kidding, if it's yours and you object just drop me a line, 'kay? I might talk all big and badass but I am a total smush bucket, yeah?)

Pink Versus Pink

A study in the different meanings of the word "pink". My Pink leather motorcycle jacket (yes, I have a motorcycle license. It is much easier than ballet and is only slightly more likely to result in a broken ankle. Sorry, Mom!) versus my Ballet Pink leather dance slippers.

Some Of You Will Think This Post Is Creepy

Okay. So when I decided that I needed to take ballet lessons or I would die inside I had to cut a certain amount of chaff from my budget. Especially because last year I had a real job, and now I quotey-quote "work from home" which is sort of like saying "I am unemployed" only I have to feel guilty about sleeping in. Anyways. That $500 I spent on shoes last year was not going to be repeated this year (for the record, though, I got some REALLY AWESOME shoes last year) and the ridiculously expensive dolls were just going to have to wait.
Okay, okay, I admit it. There. Are you happy now? I admit it freely. I am a dolly addict. I don't mean creepy porcelain dolls or collector barbies or anything else that accrues any sort of value over the years. I mean gorgeous and stupidly expensive resin ball jointed dolls from Asia. If you aren't already familiar with them, you need to go look at this site. You will have a heart attack. Especially when you look at the prices and realize that those $600 dolls are BASE prices. Hair, eyes, and wardrobe sold separately. *Siiiiiiiiiigh* (It's not as silly as it sounds, I actually earn a pretty significant percentage of my living by making and selling teeny tiny 1/6 scale corsets and underwear. No, I am not joking.)
Anyway, like I said, ballet is expensive. So, sorry Too and Bee-A, but you will have to wait.
And just as I had finally made this decision and was feeling very secure about it?
I discovered these:

Do you hear that sound? It's the sound of my soul crying.

That's right, kids. Those are specially made pointed feet. For those ridiculously expensive dollies. So that they can wear Intensely Adorable pointe shoes. Just go and look at this picture and tell me that they aren't awesome.

Well, never mind, because I won't believe you anyway. Ballet. Shoes. Dolls. Spending money I don't have. My buttons. Consider them pushed.