Oh, wow. Sallymandy of
The Blue Kimono passed the Kreativ Blogger award on to me. I wish I could say that I was all nonchalant about it. But when I realized that by "Stephanie at Circle of Clothes," she was referring to me (it took a few seconds to process), I bounced up and down in my chair a little, and made an immature sound that goes something like "Eeeeeee!" And then I panicked for a few seconds, because I was all like, "wait, this means I actually have to do something."
So, I think I'm first supposed to list seven things I love. This was really hard. Narrowing it down to seven, I mean. Food comprised a good 2/3 of the starter list, so whittling it down got a little easier after I decided that I should first eliminate most of the food, along with the obvious and predicable items, such as
these boys,
this entertainment franchise, and
this hot geek.
So, here are seven of the not-so-obvious things that I love:
1.
Salt and vinegar potato chips. I did have to allow myself one food item. Whoever figured out a way to put vinegar flavor into powder form was a genius.
2.
Choreographing and rigging quickchanges. If I needed to, I could help you change your wig, gown, shoes, hat, gloves, and jewelry in thirty seconds or less. I have a knack for choreographing the quickchange process, and also for coming up with bizarre and useful solutions for rigging costume pieces so that you can get into and out of them quickly (and no, it almost never involves Velcro - yuck!). I get a huge adrenaline rush out of it.
3.
Flemish sour ales. Especially Duchesse de Bourgogne. Meet my special lady friend:
Image source: http://www.toerisme-leiestreek.be/leiestreek/eten.aspx?id=20105
4.
Not owning a car. Living where we do, owning a car would actually be a big, expensive incovenience. I love the freedom that comes with not owning one.
5.
Ballroom dancing. I love dance of any kind, but especially the ballroom and so-called social dances - waltz, foxtrot, cha-cha, samba, west coast swing, bachata, you name it. I performed and competed as part of a college ballroom dance company when I was in undergrad. I even built myself a wonderfully tacky ballgown when we started competing at the level for which costumes are required.
I haven't competed in seven years (not to worry - quitting competitions was one of the best decisions I ever made). But ballroom dancing socially can still give me a feeling akin to what I imagine euphoria must be like.
6.
Jeans-and-a-sweatshirt weather... even though I no longer own anything that qualifies as a sweatshirt. High 50s or low 60s and overcast, that's my idea of the perfect day.
7.
My mother-in-law. I adore her, and the feeling is mutual. I consider myself lucky.
And now, to show you just how much I deserve this award, I present this ensemble that I wore while teaching class last week:
Stephanie, Costume Warrior Princess
Saving the world from bad costumes (like mine).
Hee-hee! Full "why-and-how-the-heck!?!?" details will be presented in a post that is to come at a later date.
Now, I'm supposed to pass this award on to someone else. And it is with pleasure that I hereby pass it on to that jewelry-crafting, sassy-hooping, smart-dressing blogger Erin over at
Work With What You've Got. You rock!
When I was in high school, I made this dress as a birthday gift for my mom. That would have been at least 13 years ago. Then a couple of years ago, she offered it back to me as a hand-me-down. I gladly accepted!
No matter how warm it gets outside, I always have to layer on the sweaters and leggings (and in this case, legwarmers) for work, thanks to the obnoxious use of excessive air-conditioning in my building and on public transit during the warm months. With global warming and all, shouldn't there be a law against that?
I chose this jacket for Mervat's challenge because for a while after I first bought it (like 2 years, seriously), I had a hard time finding ways to wear it that don't involve pink. I felt obligated to match the subtle pink stripes in the jacket's plaid (the pink stripes are brighter than they're showing up in this washed-out photograph). Once it finally occurred to me that I should just treat it like a neutral because the pink stripes are subtle, I started having a lot more fun with it.
In one of her characteristically enlightening posts, Audi at Fashion for Nerds recently discussed how our tendency to reserve some clothes for only special occasions can be limiting, and how we can find ways to wear those special-occasion clothes for not-so-special occasions. This skirt is an example of how I figured that out for myself when I was going through a process of rediscovering and re-inventing my wardrobe over the past year. It has a matching camisole and bolero jacket, and so together, they look quite dressy. Here it is very long ago sans bolero jacket, as I can't find a photograph of myself wearing all 3 pieces. I'll try to wear the bolero soon, though.
I made the matching 3-piece set over ten years ago, when I was a college student studying in Paris for a semester. I wasn't permitted to be employed, and I was broke, so I had a lot more time on my hands than I was used to, but I couldn't afford to do any activities that cost money. So when I wasn't going for long walks, I was holed-up in my closet-sized apartment with discount fabrics and my sewing machine, which I had fit into my suitcase even though it meant I could bring fewer clothes with me. That semester was one of the unhappiest periods of my life because I was desperately missing my friends and boyfriend (now my husband of 9 years), and so lonely, while my far more well-funded peers in my program bonded over restaurant meals and weekend trips to Italy, London, Amsterdam, etcetera. And my stumbling French and my non-out-going-ness kept me from trying to befriend people outside my program.
Brown and yellow together is an unusual color combo for me. I did not realize, when I was getting dressed on this particular day (not actually today - I rarely manage to photograph and post my outfits on the same day), that I just happened to be wearing the school colors of the university where I work. But what was even more serendipitous was the fact that this was a day when it would be very appropriate to show one's "school pride." So a lot of people thought that I had intentionally worn the school colors. Oh, well.
Necklace: hand-me-down from great-grandma.
Might that be an oxymoron?
There is a special place in my heart for plaids like this. They bring to mind a number of pleasant recollections, namely: sitting next to a bonfire on Huntington Beach; my dad because he wears them all the time; and dressing "grunge" in junior high and high school. Even though I never fully embraced the grunge lifestyle, I listened to the music and often dressed the part: rageddy jeans with holes in the knees, imitation Doc Martens from Payless (I didn't get a real pair until I graduated), and a plaid flannel shirt tied around my waist. For a time, I had a huge crush on one of the stoner/grunge kids. He wrote beautiful poems, and I'd often see him toting around a tattered book of verses by Walt Whitman or Jim Morrison. Looking into his eyes felt like looking into the past and the future at the same time. But for a number of reasons, "we" could never be. Eddie H, I have often wondered what became of you. You were so dreamy when I was 16.
I haven't competed in seven years (not to worry - quitting competitions was one of the best decisions I ever made). But ballroom dancing socially can still give me a feeling akin to what I imagine euphoria must be like.
While I wasn't particularly thrilled with this outift, because I found myself wishing for one or two bright splashes of color, it does include an example of some recent wardrobe refashioning that fits in with the spirit of my wardrobe shopping hiatus and wardrobe refashion pledge. So I thought I should share it.
It was a relatively simple refashioning, but one that I'm proud of for its subtlety and craftsmanship. Unfortunately, I didn't think to take a "before" picture. When I purchased this lavender top, it was a short dress with kangaroo pockets that seemed awkwardly incongruous with the delicacy of the lace. I only wore it as a nighty, partially because it was so soft, but mainly because I couldn't find a way to style it that would satisfy my personal standards. Then when I laundered it, it shrunk a good 4", also sending the kangaroo pockets off-grain (a common problem with cheap factory-produced garments, as they're often cut off-grain in order to save fabric and costs). So to start with, I carefully removed the kangaroo pockets and further shortened and evened-out the hem so that the off-grain-ness is only noticeable by me (I think). 
