Armpit gussets tutorial for Aunt Nancy

Hi, fellow residents of style-blogging land. Sorry for my long absence. And this post isn't going to seem like much of a return. I still take photos of favorite ensembles occasionally, but I have so many dozens of outfits waiting to be blog-shared that I'm sure I'll never get to most of them. Other stuff in life has simply taken precedence. BUT I WILL RETURN TO BLOGGING THIS SUMMER!!! I'll have much more "me" time over the coming summer months than I have had in a number of years, so if I can't manage to fit blogging back into my life this summer, then I probably never will.

So, I was going to e-mail my Aunt Nancy these photos with explanations, but I realized it would be easier to share them in a blog-post format. She was talking about how she often encounters arm-lifting problems in garments she makes with set-in sleeves, so I said I'd share a solution I often use for that problem. I insert little bias-cut football-shaped gussets into the bottom of the armscyes. They aren't very pretty up-close, and they are a bitch to sew, especially when you're figuring out how to insert them for your first time. But they usually hide fairly well, and they can make a world of difference in terms of comfort and movement-capacity.

I apologize in advance for the poor photo quality. I took these with my iphone and mailed them to myself so that I could get this post up right away.

So take, for example, this leg-o-mutton-sleeved bodice:


Here is what the underarm looks like with the gusset in place:


And here is a view from the side seam:

I hope you can make sense of this shot. I lifted the arm all the way up and back, and folded the bodice in such a way that you're looking directly at the side seam, so you can see how the gusset is inserted horizontally between the bodice and the sleeve.

Here are some sample armpit gusset patterns:


Note the grainline: not horizontal, not vertical, but on a 45-degree angle so that it's cut on the bias. I was taught that this helps with stretch in that area.

The length and width of the gusset is something I always just guess at. Basically, you want it to be as big as it needs to be to get the job done, but not much bigger than that, because the larger it is, the more it might show. Sometimes, I'll simply go ahead and attach the sleeve before a fitting but leave about 6" under the armpit unattached, and then I'll decide in the fitting how long and how wide I want the gusset to be.

I also occasionally use another solution, that of actually modifying the sleeve and bodice pattern pieces so that the gusset allowance is built into them, so you don't end up with an ugly wedge-shape in your armpit. But it's too hard to explain that method here. And I find sewing them much more difficult, and then if they don't work, it's not simply a matter of taking them out and putting in new ones. I basically only use that solution if a designer insists that they don't want the football kind.

Gussets are wonderful little tools. A gusset inserted vertically into a bodice's side seam - at about the same level or a bit lower than this one, but up-and-down instead of side-to-side, and perhaps shaped more long and narrow than these examples - can make it fit an actress whose bust is just a bit too large for it. I have also used them in crotch seams: from front to back in order to give a performer more freedom of movement and prevent them from splitting their crotch seam in performance; or horizontally from side to side in order to ease "package issues" if a male performer has a particularly large front bulge and his pants aren't laying smoothly over it. That's one of those things we'll notice in a dress rehearsal, change it in time for the next run of the show, and just hope the performer doesn't notice it and ask about so we don't have to explain that their package was distracting because it was bulging too much. There are lots of other applications for gussets of all shapes and sizes, but I'll stop here.

I hope you get to try this sometime, Aunt Nancy. I want to see how it works out if you do!

Stage blacks, loss, and comfort

A few Sunday nights ago, something happened in my personal life that really threw me for a loop. I suffered a loss, in a way. There was not a death or a divorce or anything that typically comes to mind at the mention of a loss... but I had to give up something very dear to me, and it tore out a piece of my heart. That is all I can really say about it publicly. The situation has mostly ameliorated itself since then, but at the time, it felt like something I would never be able to get over.

So began a hellish tech week at work for a show that opened on the following Thursday. I had already known that the week was going to be awful due to the projected 15-hour workdays and only 4.5-5 hours sleep per night, which is typical for tech weeks in my line of work. You just suck it up and push through it. I had to dress for comfort, I needed to wear something I wouldn't have to think about much, and I wanted to never look in the mirror and feel frumpy or wish that I had worn something that makes me feel more confident. And, since I train my student wardrobe crew during tech week, I usually wear an all-black or mostly-black ensemble on the first or more dress rehearsal day(s) in order to be a good example to them of how I expect them to wear stage blacks for every dress rehearsal and performance.

Partway through Monday, I decided I should go with all-black ensembles for the entire week, embracing the ephemeral grief and making a wardrobe theme week of it, thereby making the best of the crummy situation by using it as Circle of Clothes fodder. There is something about mourning garb that I find comforting, so it helped ease my troubled state of mind. When anyone at work made an observation about my nearly colorless wardrobe that week, I simply chalked it up to dressing for dress rehearsals. Also, I feel really confident in black.

I did allow myself to bring in some accent colors, but only if they could be easily removed in order for the ensemble to be all-black for backstage purposes.

Monday:Sheesh, could I look any more morose?

Apparently so:I meant to remove those gloves for the photos. Sometimes it's terribly cold in the costume shop, so fingerless gloves are one of the ways I deal with it.

Tuesday:I always feel so pretty in this tunic. The princessy sleeves have a lot to do with it.

Wednesday:Notice how my mood was already starting to improve?
Your mood would be improving too, if you had a little wooden bird perched upon your shoulder!
On Tuesday night, someone dear to me had called me a "strange girl," so the quirky details of Wednesday's ensemble felt very appropriate.

Thursday:I'm imagining myself a 1940s starlet, bravely wearing pants and in need of a cigarette holder despite the fact that I don't smoke... but I think I just come off looking pissed again.

There, that's better:
I wrote earlier than I allowed myself to add accent colors to my all-black ensembles if the colored items could be removed for backstage purposes, meaning that all the accent colors had been small accessories until this day - but I'm cheating a bit with the buttons on these pants: the dresser aprons my students and I wear when working backstage would cover them completely.

I LOVE these pants. I had grown out of being able to wear them comfortably in recent years, but hung on to them because they're so cool. My recent unexpected weight-loss (explained in the post before this one) and ab-toning has made them fit better than ever. I love that they are nearly too long on me, especially as they appear to be in this no-feet shot; because it is so hard to find pants that fit my J.Lo-booty and my long legs at the same time, having pants that are almost too long feels like a luxury. The length when I'm standing still like this looks a little odd, but when I'm walking or sitting, they're fabulously dramatic.

This was my first time wearing Chinese hair sticks. It's hard to see them in any of these shots, though.I've had them for years, but only pulled them out because I was looking for more black hair accessories. I can't believe I never tried them before, because they're awesome. Hopefully I remember to use them more.

Friday:After the draining week, I enjoyed taking a scheduled furlough day that Friday, running errands and going to appointments. There was no need for me to wear stage blacks, but I continued the theme anyhow. It is fortunate that my snow boots are also black, because I needed them that morning.
I found this necklace at a little open air market in Buenos Aires. I hope I get to go back there some day, especially now that I can call myself an Argentine tango dancer. But the main thing I want to go back there for is to make more unique wardrobe acquisitions!

I could have easily gone another week with all-black ensembles without repeating any items except shoes and maybe my black thermal leggings. So, which did you like best? Or least?

Jane's Spring Capsule Wardrobe Challenge

I decided, rather last-minute, to join in Jane's Spring Capsule Wardrobe Challenge again.

I used to think I looked awful in brown. Then I bought the world's greatest boots, making it practically necessary to (oops, I guess I'll have to!) start incorporating brown into my wardrobe. It's still not the best color on me, but I have learned that some browns look much better on me than others, and I've learned how to accessorize in a way that helps keep me from feeling blah in it. So as a challenge, I decided to make this week mostly about brown, limiting myself to just one pair of shoes in - you guessed it - brown.

Rather than planning everything out on paper like I did last time, I winged it through Wednesday, not counting my items until figuring out what to wear for Thursday and Friday. But looking over these photos, I just realized that I may have failed, because I forgot to count my purse. I use the same sensible black purse every day, no matter what else I'm wearing (and I will keep using it every day it until it's so tattered that it must be replaced with whatever I can find that is almost exactly like it in form and function, just as I did with its mother and its grandmother), so I think of it as an extension of my body.

My ten wardrobe items (not counting aforementioned purse):
1) blue jeans
2) brown cable-knit leggings
3) brown knit mini-skirt
4) dotted purple sleevelesss top
5) purply-brown metallic-woven jacket
6) brown cardigan
7) gold sweater-dress
8) refashioned purple-brown floral-print tiered dress
9) boring brown Dansko clogs
10) green crochet flower pin (I forgot about this item when keeping track of my accessories, because it is necessary to use a pin to keep the jacket closed, so it ended up being counted as one of my ten wardrobe items)

My five accessories:
1) brown wood earrings
2) brown shell necklace
3) red/orange/mustard bead earrings
4) red bead bracelet
5) sensible brown plastic headband

And my permitted outerwear of coat, scarf, hat, and gloves:
And now with the offending purse that sends my items over the limit if counted:
I don't remember if I've shared my outerwear on this blog before. Well, in case it isn't obvious, I LOVE this coat. It has become so worn and threadbare in recent years that I have had to patch it extensively from the inside on both elbows, on my left back shoulder, in one armpit, and over a huge area of my left hip. But it only shows if you look closely. People are always shocked when they notice it. I should show how I did that sometime. I have been trying to find a suitable replacement for two years, but finally accepted that I'm just going to have to make a copy of it. The process has already been started, but it looks like I won't finish it in time to wear it this winter.

Well, on with the show. Monday:
This jacket is made of a beautiful metallic weave. I wish I had a close-up shot to share. I bought it for maybe $10 at Jomar a few years ago. It was a sample piece, unwearable because the collar, while interestingly dramatic in theory, was completely wonky and unmanageable. A saw a lot of women excitedly try it on, then put it back in disappointment. Lots of factory rejects and failed sample pieces end up at the Jomar. So I refashioned it, taming the collar into its present form. I have to use a pin or broach to get it to lay nicely when closed, but that's part of the fun of it.

Tuesday:
I also wore the jacket over the dress that day, but forgot to photograph with it.

Wednesday:
Note: I wear scissors and a key on a cord around my neck for work every day, so it's not one of my accessories, or at least, not intentionally.I got a lot of mileage out of my sock collection this week. I figured I could do so since hosiery and underwear don't count in the ten items and five accessories, right? I'm wearing two pairs here, but it looks like three. Can you identify which layer isn't really a separate pair? :-)

Thursday:
You probably can't tell from the photos, but I have lost some weight. Between August and December, I lost about 16 pounds, dropping from 143 to 127. I wasn't even trying to do so. I was even a little worried at first, when I weighed myself in November and realized that the new looseness in my clothes wasn't just my imagination, but a concrete and rather large number. But I had simply made some lifestyle changes: less blogging/reading/commenting, starting a minimum 2-year hiatus from professional costume design gigs, taking pilates and belly dance classes about once a week, bringing ballroom dance back into my life in a huge way, and not coming home exhausted and starving from 15-hour workdays and scarfing down a bunch of carbs before passing out. Since free evenings that had been previously spent out for dinner and drinks with friends or at home on the couch (either of which involved alcoholic calorie intake) are now spent out dancing (and I can't drink and dance, or at least not ballroom dance), there has been a sharp inversion in my calories-consumed-to-calories-burned ratio. Since then, I seem to have stabilized in the 126-128 lb range. I feel great (albeit a little sore-footed and swollen-kneed sometimes, from all the dancing), I'm doing what makes me happy, my abs have never looked this good, and my body seems to be telling me that this is the size and shape it wants to be. I felt great about my body and all my jiggly bits even at my peak weight of 143, and I kinda miss what I had begun to fondly call my beer bump, but I'm thoroughly enjoying fitting into clothes I had grown out of and was about to give away.

Anyhow, the only reason I brought it up: beneath these jeans, I'm wearing a pair of medium-thick leggings and a pair of yoga pants with a fold-down waist (adding further waist thickness), and they still look a bit baggy on my butt. When the weather warms up and I no longer need so many layers, girlfriend is going to have to do some jeans-shopping.

Friday:

Okay, that's everything. I really need to polish those shoes, eh.

Halloween 2009, Part 2

I did warn you that this was going to be corny, didn't I?

I present for your amusement: Barbecued Corn on the Cob!

Thanks to Sarah L. and Melissa Z. for taking all the photos. They're so much better than they would be if I had done them myself.

So, I must confess, a lot of people didn't get it. Some people did, but I was also mistaken for a flower, a sunflower, a fairy, and a pineapple. I can see why. But ooh, costume ideas for next year, maybe?

I had thought that my hair messily pulled through a hole in the top of the hat would be a good clarifier, representing the silk at the top of a cob:


But I think the "wrapped in aluminum foil" part threw off a lot of folks.

I also wore it earlier in the day to ride my bike up to Greensgrow Farms to pick up our CSA share. That's where a friend took the first few photos above, in an environment where I fit right in - tee-hee! Overheard while I was flying by with my American flag flapping behind me: "Look mommy, it's a pineapple!" "No sweetie, I think she's corn." And then there was the guy who gave me a thumbs-up from his SUV, saying: "Hey, that's so corny!" And the mod hipsters shouting from their VW bug: "You're awesome!" And the woman who stopped her male companion to point and say: "Oh my god, that's hysterical." I noticed lots of cameras and cell phones snapping, especially as I made my way home through the touristy areas around the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. I made a point of waving to the people in the tourbusses, imaging I was a mascot or ambassador welcoming them to this city I love so much. Totally made my day! It's not about the attention, but about the affirmation: people get it; or even if they don't get it, they like it; and gosh darn it, I made them happy. For a brief moment, I made them smile, laugh, chuckle, guffaw. I wish I could do this every day!

It's too bad I don't have photos of myself on my bike, with the hat attached above my bike helmet (I'm a safety girl). Because it was pretty funny. I also wore this out dancing, just as I wore last week's costume out dancing, but this time, it was just an Argentine tango milonga. Argentine tango is all done in closed position (partners facing each other, arms always in contact), so there was very little risk of my partner getting stabbed in the eye by the top of my husks. Not so, with last week's funnel!

I won the Greensgrow Halloween Festival costume contest, but only by default. Because no one else entered. Booh. The prize was a big pumpkin, but since my bicycle was already loaded down by the big share pick-up, they gave me a $15 Greensgrow certificate instead. Yay for local, sustainably-raised foods!

And of course, this post wouldn't be complete without my signature superhero pose. "It's a flower! It's a pinapple! No, it's SUPER CORN!!!!!!"

Halloween 2009, Part 1

Advance warning: True to form, this turned into a lengthy post with lots of blah-blah-blah, yet I can't bring myself to make any more cuts. So if you want to hear the whole nerd-tastic spiel, then read on, but if you just want to get to the photos, you should scroll down.

Upon learning that I design and build costumes for theatre and dance for a living, strangers often remark that I must always have amazing Halloween costumes. This can drive me nuts. For one thing, it can feel like a lot of pressure, when I'm running around like mad working on costumes for actors and dancers, and then someone expects me to also develop a brilliant costume for myself. I could also go off on how offensive such remarks can feel to someone in my profession, because developing a vision for an entire ensemble of performers is a so much more complicated (and, it must be said, usually far more intellectual) pursuit than developing a Halloween costume for myself. But that's all I will say about that.

In truth, I love Halloween and its excuse to wear a costume just as much as the next gal, and I did have some pretty cool costumes in high school and undergrad. But since then, through grad school and my career path to date, I've been so perpetually busy and/or exhausted that I have only bothered with a costume in two of the last eight years. But the stars have all aligned perfectly this year, and I'm about to lend some credence to the remarks of said strangers. Seriously, the timing couldn't be better: 1) Halloween is on a Saturday this year, and there is a party I can go to, and I had a one-week-early Halloween-themed ballroom dance social to attend this past Saturday; 2) the production schedule for the shows I'm working on is such that, for once, Halloween does not land just before or just after a show opening, so I can afford the time to do something for myself and even go out on the weekend; 3) I happened last week upon a completely insensible, not-appropriate-for-work-or-errands-or-even-going-out-clubbing (the latter of which I don't do anyhow), silvery, scrunchy, delicious skirt in the window of one of the tacky cheapie shops where the high school girls (and, um, I?) shop in Philly, and I HAD TO have it.

Which meant that it had to become part of a Halloween costume, because when the heck else am I going to be able to use it? Which meant that I actually had to do a Halloween costume this year.

So I bought it, took it home, modeled it with my nearly-just-as-insensible-and-also-somewhat-tacky silver boots, and tried to figure out what I could possibly do with it: "What's silvery and metallic? A robot! The Tin Man! Aluminum foil! Garbage cans! Those windowshades my mom once used to protect the dashboard in her car!" And then I thought of something so silly, so nutty, so corny, that I HAVE to do it. And I've been working on it a bit each day. But I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it in time to wear for the ballroom social this past Saturday, so I went with the Tin (Wo)man idea, which is totally cheating because I already was Tin Woman for one Halloween in undergrad. I should share pictures of that some day. That year, I made my not only my costume, but also the costumes of friends who were Dorothy, the Cowardly Lioness, and a very sexy Scarecrow.

But I digress. I present Tin Woman v2.0:


Throwing this together was actually ridiculously simple. I purchased a pair of those wonderfully tacky silver metallic leggings that are in almost all the teen-focused clothing stores in Philly right now, basted a red felt heart to a sweater from my closet, and rigged our kitchen funnel with elastic. The "oil" shooting out the top in party-favor fashion is simply what happened when I safety-pinned the elastic in place and decided not to bother trimming or hiding it.


I loved wearing this, and I even managed to dance all night in the boots - rumba, bachata, waltz, tango, foxtrot, hustle, swing, cha-cha, viennese waltz, you name it. I had brought along my ballroom dance shoes, thinking I would feel the need to change into them at some point, but nope. It was awesome. I felt like a princess! A princess with tacky thigh-high boots! A costume warrior princess! Woo-hoo!!!!!

But this Tin Woman costume was just a place-holder for what is to come, if my plan succeeds. Before I went to bed that night, the funnel was in the dishwasher, the elastic was back in my stash, the red heart was un-stitched, and the sweater was tossed in the wash. Like my dreamy night of dancing, and like Cindarella's pumpkin coach, it became only a memory.

With luck, a bit of creative rigging, and courage in the face of potential public wacktitude, I hope to have a most amusing "Halloween, Part 2" post to share with you early next week.

Accepting Autumn, featuring a refashion

So, this is what I wore on Monday of last week (yeah, I don't think I will ever be one of those bloggers who manage to photograph and post on the same day), when I was starting to accept the fact that it was getting to be time for scarves, coats, gloves, legwarmers, boots, etcera. And boy was this a good thing, because toward the end of last week and over the weekend, it got frickin' ridiculously cold for October in Philly. Then it went and got up to 70 degrees today. I'm SO CONFUSED.


But the main reason I photographed this is that I'd like to feature more of the things I refashion or make, and this dress/tunic (the store marketed it as a "dress," but with my legs being so long and with the bottom layer being sheer, they've got to be kidding) is refashioned.


This was its first outing. When I bought it, I knew it was a completely insensible purchase. I failed to get a "before" photo, but here are some "in progress" photos. Try to picture as it was originally, four tiers with no waist or midriff definition, making me look like a dumpy, frumpy box. Take my word for it, it was unflattering.



Elastic to the rescue! It turned the top tier into a fitted bodice rather than a frumpy tier, then I trimmed the fabric that stuck out below it after it was stitched in place. The bow you see above was part of one long strip of fabric that served as the shoulder straps and gathered the neckline. I cut the bow, closed-up the center front slit invisibly, secured the shoulder straps in place, and used the bow fabric to make a belt to cover the ugly elastic.


It's secured at three spots across the back, then hooks and bars under the goofy flower. Since it's not stretchy fabric, I couldn't just stitch it in place over the elastic all around, as I wouldn't be able to put it on then.


I had intended it as an addition to my summer wardrobe, but I guess it's going to have to celebrate its infancy as a layered piece over the winter.