Fraggles Never Fool Around, Fraggles Never Shirk...

Workin' workin' workin' workin'...
As I plow in to the final few weeks of recital sewing for the year I face down the largest challenge of the season. Because apparently making ten firebirds and ten gnomes and ten rabbits wasn't enough...
Dragons. I'm suppose to be making dragons. Mostly what I am supposed to be making is miracles. "Here, take this 30 year old leotard that looks like someone ran over it with a car and make it in to something fabulous. But not TOO fabulous, because we have to be fair to all the kids. Have fun with that!" Sigh...
My task is to make dragon costumes from around the world. Dragons for many cultures and countries. Which is commendable enough, but for cryin' out loud.
My "Egyptian" dragon was given to me as one extremely ugly nude unitard and a picture printed out from Google image search. It is a nice enough drawing, very pretty, but I am pretty sure that it has very little to do with actual mythology. Egyptian history is divided in to the Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom, and New Kingdom, right? I think of this dragon as coming from the DeviantArt Kingdom.
Anyhow. The dragon has no feathers, no scales, no demonstrably "dragon" characteristics. It has wings but I didn't really want all of the dragons to have wings because so many of the dancers are also going to be firebirds. But the only other really distinct features of this drawing are it's collar and cuffs (which I did) and it's long pointed tail.
Now, let me tell you something about tails on stage. I learned this while working on a professional production of CATS! several years back: from stage there is a REALLY fine line between what looks like a tail and what looks like a great big novelty wang. On a nude bodysuit it was just... not a good look. I do not want the little boy wearing this costume to be mercilessly taunted about it for the rest of his life. I mean, it's bad enough he has to be the only little boy on a stage full of girly girls anyway, right? So, the tail was vetoed. Wings it is. Of course, Egyptian wings are awesome and amazing, but also super annoyingly intricate. This whole costume has been a lesson for me about not biting off more than I can chew and simplifying everything because no one but me will notice the difference anyway.
I will present this costume to the gal in charge today, here's hoping it is met with a round of hearty "oh you are just so creative"s rather than shocked and slack-jawed disapproval.

PS: I have reached the point in the recital season where my sewing studio looks like this and all I want in the whole world is to be able to vacuum the bloody floor:

not that I can FIND the floor...

Dear Danskin,

Why U put such big ugly tags on the OUTSIDE of your dance skirts? ARGH.

PS: I do love this, though: When you tear open a garment and find a little memento of it's construction frozen in time, like this chalk mark at the CB waistline. Makes me feel a little closer to the other hands that have worked on it:

Stop Trying to Make Fetch Happen

Every year come recital time we have a few solid weeks of experimentation in the classroom while the choreographer (my teacher) works out her game plan. And every year we seem to end up doing endless turns around the room in a circle. This never works. Never. It makes people dizzy to the point of colliding with one another. It never looks good, and it's tortuous to practice until it does look good, so eventually it just tapers off and we forget it for another year. I'm hopeful we have gotten it out of our (AKA my teacher's) system for the current year, but we may be stuck with it for another month or so until it really sinks in that this isn't happening.
Stop trying to make this happen. It's never going to happen.

Wherein I Complain a Lot

So. How's the ol' dance world going? Over here I've just been overwhelmed and stressed out for a few solid months, but my part in the recital preparation is complete, so I feel a little lighter emotionally. Of course... now the people I have turned it over to are doing strange things like sewing hot pink trim on to my carefully constructed flame orange dress and trimming meticulously created white skirts in wrinkly grey ribbons... but you just have to learn to let it go. I guess.
I can damn near see the whole floor in my sewing room, now! So many bedraggled old tutus have finally left my presence. It's sublime.
While struggling through this year's miasma of sewing, design, and actual dancing, I stopped attending my regular pointe classes. It was just too much to deal with all at once. I have decided, I think, that I just can't do two and a half solid hours of intense cardio. It's exhausting, and not in a good way. There are not enough spoons in my proverbial drawer. There is a problem, though. I mean aside from the feeling of defeat at not being able to do this incredible thing I busted my ass to achieve. I know I am the first person in the entire history of the world to say this but... I am pretty sure my poor feet would feel 100% less awful right now if I was taking pointe again. Isn't that ridiculous? But it's true! My arches aren't getting stretched the right way, my muscles aren't as strong so they don't support me as well. The whole thing is infuriating, to be honest. I WANT to do pointe. I ENJOY it (for some reason?). But it also makes me feel better. Dancing, in general, helps my pain levels and joint mobility so much. I never notice how much until I don't do it for a while.

In other dance related news: I have just discovered these crazy floating Russian dalek dancers, and while they are the least exciting dance troupe you have ever seen they are mesmerizing and amazing and put one in mind of beautifully creepy automata like the Schloss Hellbrunn mechanical theater. I imagine there are lots of interesting steampunk possibilities, here. Also, I want to know how they do that, because I totes want to pull off that little party trick:

skip ahead to about 1:30 to check that madness at the door.

 

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.

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.

Tattercoats

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.
Anyway.
Many goose hats:

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.

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.
See?

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.

The Ides of March. Or Whatever.

"You are so good at this"
That's a nice thing to hear your teacher say, while standing directly behind you at the barre. We were, for the record, doing some crazy développé variation that included strange fondu-esque synchronized leg straightening. I was hitting it out of the park, I guess. Because I am just a badass like that. In all honesty it's probably the only thing I did well all night, but you have to take what you can get.
I've also been getting a lot of praise on my posture, lately. I have two lovely curves in my spine which freaked out my pediatrician and make standing up straight a matter of opinion more than anything else. I get SO much crap for my posture. Like, constant crap. For some reason I recently tried straightening my back by pulling my pelvis all out of whack and pushing back as hard as I possibly can with the lower third of my spine. Apparently that did the trick. It does make balances easier, I'll give it that.

Blargh. March. I really hate March. Nothing good happens in March. I am having a hard time not feeling like punching everyone I meet right now, so please excuse the terrible lag in blog posts! I am winding up for a VERY long and stressful Spring and Summer, in which I will be working like a dog and trying to be a good maid of honor at the same time. Recital season is approaching fast and I've already been tasked with figuring out how to turn a bunch of kids in to geese and a bunch more in to water lilies (water lilies are... they are round, flat, green things. Here ya go, kid, I made you a swathe of green spandex stretched over a hula hoop. Now look graceful! Haaa... no. I promise not to make any small children suffer. Much.) Mostly I am looking forward to September, simply because I will be done with all these obligations. That should tell you something.

What Did You Pull Out of the Tutu Box Today, RPrin?

"A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever" - John Keats

People give you stuff when you sew. Like... "Hey. My granny just died and I was cleaning out her closet and I found this garbage bag full of polyester double knit and plastic beaded fringe from 1974 and I thought of you immediately!" And of course you accept it, because that's really nice (and besides their granny just died so you feel bad for them). And... well... because you can't pass up a sack of fabric! It might come in handy some day. You never know what treasures could be in that sack! I've got lovely silk brocade hanging in my closet that was buried at the bottom of a garbage bag full of broken trim and powder blue metallic netting.
Apparently, if you run a ballet studio people do something similar. But with costumes. "You teach ballet! Wow! You won't believe it but my second cousin's great aunt's neighbor's niece used to do jazz and tap and somehow I ended up with an entire storage unit full of AMAZING costumes!" Your gratitude is assumed.

In preparation for the studio's big Summer recital I am going through tupperware bin upon tupperware bin full of random tutus, leotards, and other costume bits and bobs that somehow ended up in the studio's possession, weeding out the ones that are beyond hope and fixing the most egregious flaws in the remainder. I have spent a couple of weeks, now, going through these, and it's totally awesome, to be quite honest. Especially because I get to remove/trash the ones I would rather burn than work on (a rare and empowering experience in the world of costuming!). Below I present some of the most heinous incredible creations that ever graced the form of a 7 year old in tap shoes and pigtails...

Now. Some of them aren't so bad. This one, for instance, could use to be soaked in Oxiclean for a month and gone over with a steamer to remove wrinkles, but you can see what they were getting at, anyway:

I'm thinking Tinkerbell.

And there are things that... well. They aren't really SO bad. Not when you consider that they must have come from 1987:

I mean, yes, it's ugly. But check out that sky-high French-cut leg opening we've got going on, here. You

just can't be mad at a leotard inspired by Jane Fonda AND Gunne Sax, can you?

No. You can't.

Of course, then there are things for which words seem inadequate:

It inspires one to poetry, does it not?

The neon pink fringe

it lay-th below

acid green sequins,

all aglow...

And then this happened:

I want to point out that this neon yellow and pink

leopard print unitard, here, is an ADULT size small.

Adult. I am just going to leave you with that.

Great Big Pile of Nope

"In your professional opinion, are these tutus worth keeping?"

Nooooooooooope.

ze Queen and ze firebird

How is the "no ballet in opera" scene from Amadeus not on Youtube? How am I supposed to make this post even vaguely related to ballet without a visual aid of the most ballet-related thing going on in my life right now? GEEZE, PEOPLE!
My husband has been gone to visit family for the past few days and I have spent my alone time eating entire pints of sherbet straight from the tub and watching movies set in the 18th century for fabulous rococo costuming inspiration (so depressing, all these movies! All of them! Why are there no happy movies with panniers and giant hair?) and because I am reading a biography about Marie Antoinette.
Did you know Marie Antoinette was a dancer? Ballet was different, naturally, than it is now, but she loved to dance. Here she is performing a ballet with her brother at a state wedding:

Last week my teacher gave me a copy of all the videos from last Summer's recital. All my costumes! Eeeee! The Firebird looked so cool! I wish I had stills to share with you guys, or that the videos weren't in such a shitty low resolution that I could take screen caps that weren't awful. It looked really nice moving around, with all the flamey bits swishing about. Sigh...

I would blur out faces but the resolution on these is so dreadful that I am pretty sure they count as anonymous.
PS: I am not responsible for the weird little poky-outy feathers at the edges.
Someone just did that. I had no control.

Blog Maintenance and Life Update

I've gone through and added some new related blogs, and removed a few that haven't been active within the last six months +. If you are one of the people I dropped, never fear! If you post again I'll pop you back in to the blogroll. I'm just trying to keep it tidy up in here, up in here.

The studio is closing in on it's recital (just a couple more weeks and then I get to take pointe class without running through Swan Lake like a million times. Hallelujah!) and I am down to the wire on a few remaining costume things that need finishing up. Just embellishing the Firebird's leotard and whipping up two more little peasant bodices for the kids (six total, I think). I will be extremely thankful when it's over and I can reclaim my sewing room. You can't even walk in there, it's ridiculous (tutus, man, they take up a lot of space).
To add a little extra to my plate (because I totally needed that) my summer work schedule has just kicked in. So, now my days off are rare and precious and the arthritis in my hands is going to need a lot of babying. Right now I am building a new show, so basically I work 8 hours a day making bodices and then I come home and... make bodices. I am going to be pretty tired of bodices by the end of this week, let me tell you.

Here is the Firebird's tutu embellishment, done and out of my life. sadly you will just have to believe me when I say it has lots of texture and looks interesting in motion:

Oh man, guys. I wanted to bedazzle this thing SO BAD. I had to stop myself with sequins in hand TWICE. It just... it just needs glitter. It does. Everything needs glitter, guys.

How is the Firebird Tutu Going?

Well, I don't know... but at least I'm ready for the Royal Ascot.

"Heart beats speed up

I have never been so keyed up!"

Firebird: Part the First

One of the more daunting projects I have been tasked to complete for the studio's recital is the transformation of a drastically normal black Sansha rehearsal tutu (with a serious case of the chicken butt) in to a Firebird soloist costume.
If I was doing it with no limitations I would probably dag the netting and taper it back from a shorter poofy front to a longer and more sleek "tail" at the back. But, these suckers are spendy and we need to be able to rip it down and refashion it next year.
So far I have just about figured out what I am doing with it. Here is a progress shot. Not that it is in anything like finished condition, here. For one thing there will not be any weird gaps in the flame-y fabric overlay, and the wonky bit at the back will hopefully evolve in to more of a tail-like thing as I go. The extra bunchy stuff at the waist will be tacked and folded over to create a short layer of points that "float" with the dancer's movement.

Right now my problems are: A) this is going to require a curved needle to implement and in all these damn packages of needles I seem to have there is not a single curved one to be found (they are STUPID hard to come by, I think I have owned two in the past fifteen years. There was a near-sacred one in my mom's sewing tool box when I was a kid. I used to be utterly fascinated by it, as well as the electric shears that she steadfastly refused to part with but never actually used), and B) in the perfect world I would be working on this while it was on a pants form, or dress form with legs. As I do not own one (so sad) I am going to have to put it on and attempt to sew it WHILE I am wearing it (I will have to put in on backwards to do the butt!). This is only an issue because the panty part of this sucker is stretchy, so you just pull it on over your hips rather than hooking it together down the back. I wouldn't even bother if I was certain exactly how big the girl wearing it will be, but as it is I have to allow some stretch and wiggle-room so it's gotta be done while the skirt is held taught. I think I am going to have to borrow a bar stool and sit on that while I work, because sitting on the floor is already getting pretty tiresome!
Okay. I am done rambling, now. In my own defense my two glorious hours of sleep last night are being buoyed entirely by sugar and caffeine right now. I think I will go lay down and hope for the best before I try to work on something and just screw it up royally.

the Purple Tutu

Still working on recital costume repair/alteration/etc.
You see this tutu?

This tutu makes me sad. It's not constructed badly. It's made from a pretty standard pattern. There is a full underlining/flat lining. The basque and bodice are separate pieces. It's all as it should be. But the materials they chose to make it out of? They are awful. The acetate satin is bad but forgivable. But that skirt, regardless of the fact that it is constructed exactly the way a classical tutu should be constructed, is made with such limp and lifeless tulle (that has then been washed a hundred times, probably) that it just sort of... droops. It makes me sad because someone must have put so much time and effort in to it, and the result is so... just... sigh...
Oh, and it was closed all the way down the back with velcro. I don't know if you have ever accidentally caught tulle (or lace, or your pantyhose, or that beautiful silk chiffon blouse you just made...) on the scratchy side of a piece of velcro, but it's insanity. I couldn't even wear my wrist braces while working on this thing because the tiny edges of velcro that hold them closed kept catching on the tulle and shredding it. As you can imagine, the velcro closure has done horrible things down the back of this little guy.
My seamstress's heart. It aches for you.

Don't Glue It, You Have Sew Much to Live For!

You know what is awesome? Slipping on the carpeted stairs (because you are wearing slippery satin shoes with fuzzy socks on top) and falling all the way to the ground floor, hitting every single stair along the way. Every. Single. One.
Did I break in my pointe shoes, or did I just break myself? It was one of those things where you think to yourself "you know, this is really dangerous and I could really hurt myself" a split second before it all goes wrong. I am lucky I didn't break anything.
That happened last night. Today I feel... like I just fell down a flight of stairs, honestly (also stupid, I feel really really stupid). Both elbows are skinned and bruised, my butt looks like I was hit with a two by four (actually I was hit with half a dozen two by fours...), and I appear to have majorly pulled every single muscle in my upper back/neck/shoulders. You know that whole port de corps en ronde thing? Yeah, that SO isn't happening right now.

On the recital costume front:
I was sent home tonight with this... thing (there is no nice name for it) and told to remove the junky lace apron and ugly trim across the front (it's going on an ugly step sister in Cinderella, BTW) and to generally clean it up (at work we call that "making it pretty" which is just a nice way of saying "this thing needs some serious help. Please. Stage an intervention")

Only problem? As soon as I got it in my lap with a seam ripper in hand I discovered the awful truth. It is all attached WITH GLUE. Uuuuuggggghhhhh...

On Your Bod, In Your Class

Spending a quiet evening (hubs is asleep because our neighbors were up past 3am playing UKELELE directly outside our bedroom window. Yes, words were exchanged.) turning second-hand salwar kameez in to approximations of sarafan for Firebird's dancing princesses (which will be portrayed in this year's recital by adorable four year olds) and wondering why on Earth you always see pictures of women en pointe with no tights on. Because these new shoes I am attempting to break in right now (and was too lazy to fetch socks for) feel like they are honest-to-god lined in sandpaper.
In other recital-I-am-not-in news: there are lot of really stupid silly strange unusual things that swans do. Like hopping backwards in arabesque. Hop hop hop. I do not want to hop after two hours of class. I want to take off my shoes and have a cocktail.