My 2-month (with the option of an extension, if it goes well) wardrobe shopping hiatus and wardrobe refashion pledge

It took me four days to work out the details of this plan, so if you're wondering why the date says May 1st, but it didn't show up until May 4th, that's why.  Also, sorry if this post is boring - just a lot of words, and no pictures.  I promise that the posts that will result from this hiatus and pledge will be much less boring.

I have been thinking for some time about imposing a temporary wardrobe shopping hiatus on myself.

The reasons for this are threefold:

1. Over the past year-plus, I have undertaken a major overhaul of my existing wardrobe. This involved:

• Getting rid of a lot of items that weren't sufficiently benefitting my wardrobe.
  
• Compiling a list of very specific items to acquire in order to round-out my wardrobe.
  
• Creating piles of alterations and projects that could multiply my wardrobe's flexibility.
  
• Investing in a lot of wise wardrobe purchases, while making surprisingly few unwise wardrobe purchases.
  
• Implementing a new wardrobe storage and organization system that keeps everything in my wardrobe from "hiding."
  

Therefore, I'd like to see if I can limit myself to my existing wardrobe without getting antsy.

2. I have some major planned expenses looming, so ceasing wardrobe investments for a time would help ease the financial shock that I'm expecting.

3. I want to see if I have enough self-control to do it. My wardrobe is by far my most fulfilling hobby, so this is like asking my husband to stop trying new rock-climbing routes for two months, and instead keep improving his technique on the ones he has already tried.

The reasons why I hadn't yet committed to a wardrobe shopping hiatus are also threefold:

1. My line of work often requires shopping for clothes for actors and dancers, so I am constantly bombarded with temptation. For example: "The black dress I bought for that actress was simply darling and remarkably affordable. I should go back this weekend and get myself the rose-colored version." Incidentally, this is still one of my favorite dresses, three years later. Or, "So, that necklace didn't end up working for that character's costume. But it's so pretty. Rather than going to the trouble of returning it, how about I just don't submit the receipt for reimbursement, and that way I'll be paying for it and can just keep it myself?" This act of buying-by-default happens a lot, because doing as many returns as I do for my line of work is a huge hassle, so sometimes it's easier to just eat the cost of something and keep it myself, rather than bothering with the return. Fortunately, this time of year signals the winding-down of the theatre season and the academic calendar, so I'll be shopping for fewer shows, and therefore exposed to less temptation.

2. I have a beach vacation coming up, for which I'll need some basic items I don't own (like suitable footwear), and I also have a standing wishlist of very specific wardrobe items (see action in second bulleted point above) that I don't want to skip investing in if they happen to finally appear during my shopping hiatus.

3. I needed a kick in the proverbial pants.

Well, I got the badly-needed kick in the pants, thanks to sallymandy over at The Blue Kimono.

Sallmandy has pledged to buy no new wardrobe items (and nothing used, either) for at least two months, and in the process, to refashion items from her own wardrobe using the creativity, skills, resources, and tools that she has at her disposal. And she has invited the rest of us to join her. You can read more about it in her own words here.

So I'm jumping on board, but with one caveat, as follows.

Part 1 of 2 of my pledge:

I, Stephanie N, pledge to make no wardrobe purchases for at least two months (May 1 through June 30), except for possibly the items listed in my "These purchases are permitted to break my 2-month wardrobe shopping hiatus" list in the sidebar.

Yeah, this sort-of feels like a cop-out, especially when people like Jane of Work That Wardrobe manage to go a whole year with far fewer exceptions. But I couldn't think of any pleasing way around it. Item #1 is essential because I don't own any beach-appropriate footwear (I'm normally a no-toes-showing kind of gal). Item #2 only seems fair because a little splurging is what one does on vacations to places you have never before visited, and item #3 is an aspect of my wardrobe that has been embarrassingly neglected while the rest of my wardrobe has been re-worked over the past year.  Let's just say that the inside does not match the outside.  But items 4, 5, 6, and 7 have all been on my standing "wardrobe essentials wishlist" for over a year now (item 7 for over 2 years), and it's highly unlikely that any of them will magically show up at just the right price during this hiatus.  The point is, the exceptions aren't really all that exceptional.

Part 2 of 2 of my pledge (a significant variation on the pledge at Wardrobe Refashion):

I, Stephanie N, pledge to refashion, renovate, and recycle preloved wardrobe items for myself during my two-month shopping hiatus, and to create new wardrobe items myself without buying any new fabric or trimmings.

This part of the pledge is easy for me, since I occasionally do this already, and since I have a huge pile of alterations and dreamed-of projects waiting in the wings, as well as a significant stash of fabrics, trimmings, and notions. I will permit myself to purchase any notions necessary for completing projects, such as zippers, buttons, elastic or thread - but I expect those needs to be minimal.

Well, off I go.  Soon, I'll be sharing a major wardrobe-refashioning that I did for a formal event near the end of April.  It technically doesn't fit within the 2-month May-June commitment, but I definitely had this commitment in mind when I was working on the project.

Just in the nick of time... my entry for Audi's "inspired by interiors" contest!

I wish I could say that I waited to show this until the last day of April because I wanted it to be a late surprise entry. But the truth is that I actually found the challenge for this contest to be very tricky, much trickier than developing the ensemble that I put together for the practice round. You picked a good one, Audi!

I knew I wanted to use this sage green piece that I built a couple of years ago, because the lace in it reminds me of the latticework on the cabinets in Audi's inspirational interior (you can click on my photo to see a close-up of the lace). But I have always had trouble finding new ways to style it. I wore it once for a wedding two years ago with a bland off-white blouse, and haven't worn it since, although I think I have probably tried it on at least five times since then (not counting all the times I tried it on over the past month while trying to find a way to style the thing for this contest). You see, it was a skirt, and it used to look like this:
When I made the skirt, I was trying to make maximum use of a piece of silk dupioni that I had washed in order to make it more supple. So I cut off a strip wide enough to make a yoke out of it (you can make a yoke by using just the top portion of a basic fitted skirt pattern), and then I literally cut a hole in the center of the remaining rectangle and attached it to the yoke. So I used nearly every square inch of my precious dupioni. Attaching the lace helped to weigh the hem down, and also made it look like a tablecloth, which I rather get a kick out of. I like to embrace my inner Little Edie.

I took these photos last night, just before I changed out of it, gathered it below my bust, stitched it to an internal elastic waistband, and attached elastic shoulder straps. Et, voila! I like it SO MUCH BETTER as an empire-waist tunic, and I've already thought of a few other ways I can style it now.

I was also excited to have found a neat way to feature a necklace that belonged to my great-grandma. The necklace chain itself is rather ick, but the pendant is really nifty, and it reminds me of the sunburst mirrors in the interior image. So I wore it on a rust-colored ribbon to pick up the rusty orange hue of the chairs. And I wore some of my great-grandma's big fake pearl earrings, partly because the ball on the lamp base reminded me of them, but mainly because wearing them makes me happy!

Cardigan: Payhalf.
Belt: moi, inspired by one of Kasmira's.
Empire-waist tunic (formerly skirt): moi.
Skirt (navy blue pinstripe, peeking out from tunic): JC Penney.
Leggings: Mandee.
Boots: Apepazza.
Earrings: great-grandma's.
Necklace: pendant was great-grandma's, ribbon is from my stash.
Bracelets: Mandee, I think.
_________________________________
Updated post on 4/30 at 11:50pm: It occurred to me that it would be nice to add photos of the alteration that I did to turn the dress into a tunic, since the alteration point was covered by the belt.

Outside of tunic:
Inside of tunic:
And here's a close-up shot of my grandma's pendant:

Teacherly

I have been getting behind again with my posts. The temperature here was abnormally high over the weekend, getting up around 90 degrees (that's about 32 for those of you on Celcius), and will continue so over the next couple of days. So this ensemble looks quite out-of-season to me even though I wore it not long ago.

Wearing this dress always makes me feel like I look more grown-up. I imagine myself wearing it for my interview if I ever apply for a tenure-track position. I wore it last year when I had a meeting to discuss costume design ideas with a choreographer who had never met me in person before, because I didn't want her to think I was a student. I'm 30, but still get mistaken for a student quite frequently. I don't mind this, except when I'm talked down to or patronised because of the mis-identification.

I'll be out shopping for fabric or supplies for a show, at stores I have been going to regularly all 8 years that I have been in Philly, and when the staff (the same people who help me every time I am there and really ought to remember me by now) find out that I'm buying fabric for costumes for a university performance (because about 75% of my costume design work is for colleges), they inevitably say something along the lines of "oh, you're doing this for a school project - how nice." Or, they go the total a-hole route and sternly tell me that they don't give out free swatches, even though I have asked for none (apparently, students often ask for swatches for projects). Most of the Philly fabric stores don't treat student designers very nicely, which is stupid because those students are the ones who will keep their businesses going when they begin their careers. Since turning 30, it has been so much more fun to correct them: "Actually, I'm 30 years old, and I have been teaching college classes for five years now." It sounds so much better than saying I'm 29. I used to just skip mentioning my age and go right to the teaching bit. Wow, I didn't mean for this to turn into a rant!

When I first started teaching, I stopped wearing many of the fun, even mildy wacky clothing pieces and accessories that had characterised my personal style through my teens and early 20s. I got rid of a lot of them, and invested in what I thought was more professional, grown-up looking clothing. It helped a lot in my first few years, as it was sometimes difficult to get people to take me seriously because I was just out out grad school (and still looked like an undergraduate, it seems). But over the past year, I have been bringing back much more of "me" into my professional attire. This has made me SO happy! I feel comfortable doing so now that I am have become established here and am respected by my colleagues at the university where I work. Still, it's nice to have some teacherly ensembles like this one to fall back on.

Dress: Ann Taylor Loft.
Cardigan: Ann Taylor Loft.
Leggings: Mandee.
Earrings and necklace: Dots.
Boots: Appepazza.

Happy colors

I couldn't think of a good title for this one. These colors did make me very happy, though.

It looks a bit awkward when I slip on the armwarmers, but they keep me warm when my workspace gets chilly.

Dress: Chadwick's.
Sweater: Ann Taylor Loft.
Armwarmers: a dance supply store, not sure which one.
Earrings: Dots.
Broach: ?
Socks: Payhalf.
Leggings: Wintersilks.
Boots: Dansko.

Braving beige

I usually avoid beige, khaki, stone, and any other color (if you can even call them colors... I guess they're technically neutrals) that you might find in the breakfast cereal known as oatmeal. Because they make me feel blah. Not so with this dress. It's the cream-colored inset yoke that makes it work for me. And I bought it on clearance for $7.50 without even trying it on, while I was doing some shopping for a show.

And yes, in case you were wondering, that broach is a shiny replica of a Star Trek communicator. For years, I just kept it in my costume box. But I think it's really pretty, especially with the two different tones of metal. So, why not? Now that my status as a nerdy Star Trek fan is out in the open for all the internets to see, I can wear it proudly. And my students think it's funny.

Speaking of Star Trek, I'm still hoping for advice on which of these nerdy Trek-themed t-shirts to buy (scroll down to end of post). I'm only allowing myself to get one, and it's so hard to decide...

Dress: Old Navy.
Broach: "Star Trek: The Experience" gift shop in Las Vegas.
Earrings: a little hole-in-the-wall shop, somewhere in Philly.
Cable-knit leggings: Mandee.
Boots: Appepazza.

Little Red Dress

This dress was another Chadwicks @ Jomar score. I think I paid about ten bucks for it. Very comfy, and well-worth the price.


I realized recently that I ought to be taking some close-up shots, because small details like jewelry are so hard to make out in the crummy pictures I've been eking out of my camera. So here's a close-up of this fake pearl jewelry set (there's also a matching bracelet) that I found at a Rite-Aid drugstore (talk about random!) when I was in grad school.

Headband: Kmart.
Dress: Chadwick's, overstock at Jomar.
Cardigan: Chadwick's (I'm beginning to feel like a walking advertisement).
Fake pearl earrings, necklace, and bracelet: Rite-Aid.
Thermal leggings: Wintersilks.
Boots: Dansko.

La Falda del Día de Los Muertos

My spanish is iffy... apologies for any misspellings.

I found this skirt in a little shop on Olvera Street in Los Angeles. I'm a sucker for Mexican Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) -themed art and textiles. For example, this is one of my favorite murals (also an amazing restaurant, in case you ever happen to be in Philly).

The first time I wore this skirt, I ended up spending the night in the E.R. with a friend who had sewn through her finger. After which, I washed it in hot water. The skirt, I mean. Not the finger. Well, the E.R. medics took care of washing that and eventually got the needle out. I also thoroughly scrubbed and sanitized my person and everything else that I had on or with me. Because I don't even want to think about what kind of freaky infections you can pick up in an E.R. like the one we were in.

While I wouldn't call myself even remotely superstitious, it did weird me out a little to remember what happened the last time I wore it, especially when it occurred to me that I would be working on costumes (and often using a sewing machine) for fifteen hours straight on this day, due to a looming deadline, and that sometimes I wouldn't have anyone around to come to my aid if I sewed through my finger. Fortunately, the day and night passed without incident. The curse-that-I-never-really-believed in has been lifted.

Black wrap-shirt: ?
Camisole: Burlington Coat Factory.
Necklace and earrings: a little hole-in-the-wall shop, somewhere in Philly.
Skirt: a little shop on Olvera Street in L.A.
Thermal leggings: Wintersilks.
Boots: Dansko.

Legwarmers on the outside; newsie on the inside.

I have worn legwarmers in the winter months since moving to Philly about eight years ago. Because I am from Southern California. We aren't bred for real winters. I invested in two identical basic black thigh-high pairs so that I'd always have a back-up when the other was in the laundry pile. They certainly weren't trendy when I started wearing them. And they rarely showed, because I'd wear them under my jeans, pants, or skirts, and only for the purpose of not being cold.

So when legwarmers started to become fashionable among the younger set a few years ago, I was mildly annoyed. Because outside of a dance studio, do legwarmers really look good on anyone? But here I am, having finally succumbed to the legwarmers-as-outerwear 80's flashback trend, due to a cute display at a store in my neighborhood. I just couldn't resist... they have buttons and a fake underlap built into the sides, in imitation of late-19th and early-20th century gaiters or spats. Though I somehow doubt that the teens and tweens who are wearing these nowadays (ya, I put myself in mature company) actually get the historical reference.

Just add a pair of suspenders and a newsboy cap, and trade my skirt for knickerbockers, and I'd fit right in with the cast of "Newsies: The Musical."

Sweater: Z Ladies Boutique.
Necklace and earrings: Burlington Coat Factory?
Bracelet: Mandee.
Skirt: thrifted, probably ten years ago.
Legwarmers: Payhalf.
Shoes: Dansko.

PS: I'm not actually pigeon-toed. I'm just trying to show off the buttons and fake underlap.

I miss Nadine's "Strawberry Kitten's Playground" posts.

Does anyone know what happened to Strawberry Kitten's Playground? Nadine, are you out there?

I was always excited when a new post from her showed up in my Google Reader, because her style is both unique and adorable. And suddenly, they stopped coming. And the blog seems to have been removed. Nadine is a petite (at least, she appears so in the pictures), pretty, dark-haired, impishly sprite-like gal with mad sewing and design skills. She writes her posts in both English and German, which is fascinating.

A google search for "Strawberry Kitten" also brings up this website, which is fun and interesting, but doesn't seem like Nadine's to me. I miss getting to see the gorgeous outfits Nadine styles for herself every day, but even more importantly, I'd like to know that she's okay.

Dyed and Overdyed

(Same outfit, two different camera settings... the true color is somewhere between the two.)

I'm finally getting around to posting the fruits of my recent overdying labors, in answer to Kasmira's March recession challenge. I wore two overdyed pieces today.

First up, there's this jacket:


In a February post, I asked for opinions on what color I should dye it. Kasmira suggested a black/blue, and that was my back-up plan if a first attempt at a brighter color turned mucky.


One packet of tangerine Rit, some salt, and a large pot of steaming-hot water later, I've got myself a jacket that feels new to me. Even the buttons soaked up the dye! After stirring it in the nearly-boiling dye bath for a while, I machine-laundered it in cold water with regular detergent and a smidge of Synthrapol, which should have gotten rid of any residual dye, and will hopefully prevent the color from staining anything I wear with it.


I am thrilled with how the color turned out. I was hoping for a rich, deep rust-like shade. Since the jacket already had some red in it (pink being a very dilute version of red), I was hoping that the bright orange overdye would be partly subdued by it, and also would hang on to some red undertones rather than going toward yellow. I thought I might then have to overdye it with some dilute red to bring it further away from yellow, or with some dilute blue if it was too intensely orange (blue being the compliment of orange, a dilute overdye in it would reduce the orange's intensity). But my hoped-for color is exactly what came out on the first try.

Then, there's this blouse.


I actually have it in two sizes, which probably sounds silly, but I used one for ensembles that required a very snug-fitting shirt (such as under a sweater), and the other for when I wanted a looser look. I swear, this is the only duplicate of anything that I have in two different sizes!

They have been getting dingy over time, and rather than do another brightening/whitening treatment, I decided to dye them. Technically, this is not overdying, since to overdye something, you must layer one color over another color. But it has green stripes, and they got overdyed while the white was dyed, so I guess technically, it counts!


It absorbed so much more dye than I was expecting it would. Which is great, because I was worried about it turning out like dusty pink (don't really want to go there again).


I love this red-violet color that resulted, and I also like how the green stripes turned brown. This happened because red and green are complimentary colors, and when one is blended into the other, it turns toward brown.


I used a more diluted pot of blue, denim blue I think, for the other top.


I like them both so much more than the plain 'ol white that they were before! Hooray for dying and overdying!



Headband: just a fabric scrap.
Earrings and necklace: Burlington Coat Factory.
Blouse: Burlington Coat Factory.
Jacket: H&M.
Skirt: Strawbridges.
Boots: Appepazza.