Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Ich bin ein... uh... Wiener.

So I know these little chats we have about image collections are just so important to you.  Yes.  They are.  You know they are.

Because you just couldn't get through your sad dreary day without more pretty pictures to distract you-- oh wait.  That's me.  Well, whatever.  Here's another batch of things to look at.

So.  Did I ever mention that my grandmother was from Vienna?  Well she was.  Oh man, was she.  Picture growing up with... say... Greta Garbo.  Only, you know.  If she was an executive assistant instead of a movie star.  My grandmother could get some serious European on.  This is a woman who could tie a scarf in twenty fabulous different ways while simultaneously putting on lipstick, doing her hair and discussing international politics.  While blindfolded.  And chain smoking Camel straights.  Throw in a Liberty of London blouse, some cork-heeled wedges and a cup of espresso and you have my grandmother circa 1974.  She was the best.

I have a point.  My point is, my grandmother loved loved loved all things Wiener Werkstätte.  That movement was pretty much over by the time she was a small child, but clearly it had some sort of deep influence on her.  Which she passed on to me, apparently.  Because I too love all things Wiener Werkstätte.

Unfortunately, I have yet to find a dedicated or substantial online image resource for this work.  Therefore I'm forced to gather up little bits and pieces here and there, which isn't very satisfying.  It also means I am now required to spend $39.00 on the "Textiles of the Wiener Werkstatte: 1910-1932" book I found on Amazon.com.  Forced, I tell you! 

However, I had to share this online find:

silk and leather shoes c. 1914 painted silk shoes, c. 1914

I love these shoes.   I found these on ArtLex.com under the “costume” page.

And not so coincidentally, these are the shoes I wore to work today.

liberty_shoes_converse Converse basketball shoes, c. 2006

Yes.  That is a Liberty of London “Ianthe” reproduction print on Jack Purcells. 

Maybe I can’t wear a scarf to save my life, but when it comes to shoes I can hold my own, baby.

And finally: If you have knowledge of a good consolidated online image library of Secession craftwork, pleeeease share!  Pretty please.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Chipper. Not the wood kind.

All day Monday I thought it might just possibly be Thursday.  Or more accurately, I hoped it might.  This isn’t really a good sign for the rest of the week, but I have determined to be cheerful and positive.  No, really.  I have.  Yes.  Me.  I am not making that up.

However, because the day was just too exhausting for words, I did not even remotely have any intention of sewing something.  In fact, I counted myself pretty lucky to have slumped down in my chair to watch the second half of “The Women".  No, not the fabulously over-the-top 1939 version starring the fabulous Norma Shearer with fabulous supporting performances by the fabulous Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, Joan Fontaine, et al.  No.  I mean the horrid 2008 version.  Yes.  That is how tired I was.  All I can say is Clare Booth Luce must be spinning in her grave.

So while I did not in fact do anything sewing related, I did manage to put the entire Burda World of Fashion Skirt Fiasco behind me and make a firm decision to Move On.  Um.  I didn't quite get to the What To Move On To part, but hey, it's a start.   Those Burda women will not get me down!  And yes, it is totally their fault that I keep laboring under the delusion that I am, in fact, 6 feet tall and not, in fact, 5 feet tall.  That is their fault!

Ahhhhh… in with the good air… out with the bad air…

In the meantime, here's another good image library link.  This is the Bridgeman Art Library based in the UK.  They have a nice collection of online resources that are relatively easy to sort through by topic.  And yes, they have a textile section (look under the "Crafts and Design" sub-heading).  The images are sometimes watermarked in places that obscure your view and there isn't an option to zoom in, which is unfortunate since there are tons of things that I would like to see more closely.  But for a quick eye-candy fix, this is a great stop.

Here's a random sampling:

french dresscotton block printed dress, French, 18th C. 

sketches with swatchesfabric swatches and fashion sketches, 20th C.

scarf 1920swoven scarf, 20th C

precolumbian embroidery pre-Columbian embroidery, 12th – 13th C.

coptic shroudCoptic shroud, painted fabric, 4th C.

mexican cross-stitch sampler Mexican embroidery sampler, 19th C.

boys coat lininglining from boy’s coat, Russian, 19th – 20th C.

chintz upholstery

Roller-printed chintz, English, 19th C.

tulip and rosecotton curtain, English, 19th C.

And now I have to feed my starving family.  Assuming I can scavenge something.  I’m like a wild puma that way.

 

Monday, February 8, 2010

Why Do The Burda Ladies Hate Me?

Clearly they have some sort of personal vendetta out against me.  Is it because I questioned their sobriety?  Because based on the truly disastrous results I had this weekend making up one of their skirts, I can only assume that their crack-addled brains have become hell bent on making my life miserable.  The fact that I chose a skirt from the April 2007 issue, printed three full years before I ever outted the crack-smokin' fashion ladies at Burda, will not sway me from my firm belief in their vindictiveness.  No.  It will not.

So I spent all weekend (and by "all weekend" I mean practically every waking moment from Saturday at 8 am to Sunday at 8 pm... yes, all weekend) trying to deal with skirt #136 from the 04/2007 issue of BWOF

BWOF 04-2007 136

BWOF 04-2007 136 ld

I was motivated to start my new and improved wardrobe (partly from the fact that my jeans are rapidly coming to resemble rags).  I very carefully and dutifully took my measurements again, because despite the fact that my little weight slider thing hasn't slid at all (long story), my measurements are definitely smaller than the were two months ago. So armed with brand-spankin' new measurements, I diligently looked up my size on the BWOF sizing chart and discovered.... that I wear exactly the same size that I wore before.   Uh… huh?

This should have tipped me off right there that I was in big trouble.  But do I listen to my inner voices?  Sure, when they tell me that famous TV stars really do love me (he does, Angie, he does!).  But when they're screaming "Cut a size smaller!  Cut a size smaller, for the love of all that's holy!!"?  Nope.  Not me.  When they also hollered "For Pete's sake you stupid woman, make a MUSLIN!!" I turned a deaf ear.  I'm perverse like that.

I could regale you with all the gory details, but to be honest I just don't think I have the stomach for it.  Let's just say that by cutting the size that was a teensy tiny bit smaller than my measurements called for I ended up with, well, a potato sack.  And of course because I decided I was making a "wearable muslin" (bah hahahhahaha!), I had already finished and topstitiched all the interior seaming and could only adjust at the side seam. 

Things I've learned: 

1)You can't really take in a panel skirt four inches at the side seam and expect good results.  

2)Fat people should not wear big skirts.  This does not do good things to their thighs.  Unless “cube” is the style they’re going for.

Now, in the interest of fairness to the drug-addled Burda ladies, I will say that there may have been several extenuating circumstances in this fiasco.

1) When I attached the waistband without any alterations, it mysteriously lined up perfectly with the side seams…. despite the fact that I took off at least two inches from the waist.  This makes me wonder if I somehow traced out the wrong size.  Either that or if I'd tried to make the skirt without adjustments, I would have been really pissed off that the waistband was too small.

2) The pattern calls for a mid-weight drapey fabric (like linen) and I used denim.  This was in retrospect probably not a good idea, as the skirt didn't maybe hang the way it was supposed to.  It was still humongous.  But it might not have been so atrocious if it was drapier.  Maybe.

3)  I clearly have some trouble with my brain when I sew.  Which is leading me to wonder if other people with what I can only term "learning disabilities" also sew and how do they cope?  Because the fact that it took me all weekend to make that flippin' disaster of a skirt (which isn't even finished yet because it still needs the waistband sewn down and a buttonhole), makes me think that I maybe have the wrong hobby.

Which leads me to a general question: Do you have dyslexia and sew?  Or do you know anybody who has dyslexia and sews?  Do they have trouble?  Or is it just that I'm stupid? 

Wait.  Maybe I don't want you to answer that.