Saturday, March 26, 2011
Holiday Ornaments, Keepsakes from a Wedding Dress
My most recent wedding dress experiments are holiday ornaments, continuing in the same theme as the tree skirt and stocking. All but one resembles a lantern. The lanterns start off as a quilted rectangle of the dress fabric, batting, and cotton backing. I use free motion quilting to secure all the layers and add depth to the lantern’s surface. For further embellishment, I add bridal laces salvaged from collected nuptial gowns. I also include additional purchased trim like cording, fur, rickrack, fringe, and pompoms to widen the variety of texture. After all the embellishment is complete, the rectangle is stitched into a cylinder form and hanging loops are attached. The medallion ornament is a quilted circle draw up into a yoyo. Lace is placed at the center of each side and fur stitched to the circumference. The medallion is a striking tree decoration and was the simplest to make. What surprised me the most was the amount of hand sewing I incorporated into the project. The lantern facing, hanging straps, lace, beading, and some trim required hand work.
I like the idea of a lantern for a repurposed wedding dress because it reminds me of the biblical parable of virgins lighting lamps. A wedding dress is a symbol, ritual, and a turning point in a woman’s life. The cultural image symbolizes she is on the cusp of a new identity. A lantern is a useful tool to help one find their way in the dark. Connecting the wedding dress and a lantern symbol could be a meaningful image or memory of a life changing event. The image of light in the darkest time of the year is also significant and could be expanded upon.
I continue to get more ideas for what wedding dresses could be. At present I'm following my holiday theme. Soon to come, my next wedding dress project is a tree topper.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Wedding Dress Turned Holiday Stocking
Have you ever considered another purpose for your wedding dress? Wait, do you remember where you put your wedding dress? It’s probably in storage, in a box, in the attic or hanging in some forgotten closet. A wedding dress after the ceremony doesn’t have to be forgotten, it can be a remade memory. Consider this example; transform the dress into keepsake holiday or Christmas stockings. Stockings, hung by the chimney with care, made from your nuptial gown could connect the family with what was once anticipated in a wedding, to what, in the present, is celebrated at each year’s end: hope, joy, and love.
This stocking was made from a white, crepe, gown with a narrow, straight skirt. The bodice and sleeves were heavily adorned with lace and beading mounted on netting. A light weight batting was used between the crepe and the lining to draw more contrast from the free motion quilting. The lace was cut away from the net sleeves and re-appliquéd to the stocking front. Sculpted lace from another dress was used to accent the heel and toe of the stocking. Ribbon and straight lace trim were used to vary the adornment of the stocking middle and add contrast and direction to the design. For further texture, the top of the stocking is trimmed in fur. The stocking measures 20 inches long and the foot, 13 inches wide. An elegant dress turned into an elegant stocking. The wedding dress finds new life in a yearly ritual of fun, much better than being stuck in a box.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Working the Family Business: The day the ceiling melted
word count 861
She climbed the ladder, a mini vacuum filling her arms and bulky boots covering her feet. Following her father, the girl made her way to the attic space above the carwash bays. With looped cord awkwardly dangling from the unbalanced mini vac, she stepped carefully on to the rafter struts. The attic, lacking a finished floor, had only exposed parallel rafters, 2 by 8s turned on end, on which to navigate. Between the rafters, the girl eyed the thin sheet metal ceiling of the carwash bay below, like an opaque rice paper window separating the two spaces. She wondered about it for only 2 seconds and then heard her father's call, "come over to the next bay ". They were repairing product lines. Each bay had a plastic tube supplying soap to a foaming scrub brush. These lines ran from the equipment room, through the attic space, and into each wash bay. The girl was helping her father make the repair. Always the tool gopher and clean up crew, the girl learned a lot from her father.
The girl often was asked to help with the family business, a self serve and automatic carwash. At age 10, she started off as her father's helper, replenishing soap and wax solutions, collecting dollar bills from the money changer, and filling the various vending machines. Later she, at age 13, would scrub white wall tires, squeegee window shields, and towel dry clean cars. Eventually she, at age 15, would run the automatic carwash, empty 50 gallon sized trash bins, and clean out the washed away muck in the drainage trenches. She was like the son her father never had. The girl was a helper, an assistant, a responsible daughter, heeding her father's steady stream of instructions.
"Come over to the next bay space, don't step between the rafters, stay on the wood" called her father from across the attic space. The few second day-dream was broken and she immediately stepped forward to follow her father's directions. However a problem occurred which sent her back into a dream, a nightmare rather. When she stepped out, her foot did not land on the wood rafter. Somehow, when she made her way forward, she came down in the wrong place. Her clunky booted foot, instead, met with sheet metal, the ceiling of the washing bay 15 feet below. As quick as it bore her weight, it also melted away like butter and she descended as if in a dream. In the nightmare, the mini vacuum, in slow motion, tumbled from her arms, end over end, down, down, down, with cord trailing into the bay below and crashing into a pickup cab roof, startling its owner who lost control of the high pressure washer gun in which he was spraying off his vehicle. The girl was jolted to reality, like an unexpected scare, as if a siren alarm went off in a silent room. Thud; her arm pits caught on the solid rafters. Miraculously, her arm span was exactly perpendicular to the parallel rafter struts, preventing her fall to the bay below. With a hard fast jerk, her outstretched arms stopped her downward momentum. She was stuck. Her legs and torso dangled through the mangled sheet metal ceiling of the carwash bay below. And to her horror and mortification, she realized her sweatshirt was also up to her armpits exposing her torso a stranger below.
At the same instant, her father and a shell shocked customer bolted into action. The father saw his daughter disappear. The customer unexpectedly found a body crashing through the ceiling while washing his truck. The customer climbed up on top of his pickup cab roof and wrapped his arms around the girl's torso, trying to save her. The father deftly ran across the rafters and grabbed hold of the girl's shoulders. They all pulled at once, not knowing the other's action. The father yanked up, the customer heaved down, and the girl stuck in the middle. Confusion and self consciousness flooded the girl's body but before she had time to utter a word, she was catapulted to safety. The father had the upper hand and adrenalin strength to pull his girl out of harm. And as quick as he saved his daughter, he was off to take care of the damage done to the stunned customer, offering a free carwash for his trouble.
The day the girl melted through the carwash ceiling ended early. She was sent home to recover from the shock and embarrassment of her missed step. She learned a valuable lesson about ceilings and rafters that day but she was back on the job the next weekend. Working in the family business was a good experience. It gave the girl a sense of confidence and competence for the mechanical world. Having responsibility at an early age allowed her to develop attributes of diligence and problem solving in real life circumstances. However the most valuable asset received from the family business but one not appreciated until adulthood was the instruction and attention given to the girl by her father, truly a time-released treasure.
She climbed the ladder, a mini vacuum filling her arms and bulky boots covering her feet. Following her father, the girl made her way to the attic space above the carwash bays. With looped cord awkwardly dangling from the unbalanced mini vac, she stepped carefully on to the rafter struts. The attic, lacking a finished floor, had only exposed parallel rafters, 2 by 8s turned on end, on which to navigate. Between the rafters, the girl eyed the thin sheet metal ceiling of the carwash bay below, like an opaque rice paper window separating the two spaces. She wondered about it for only 2 seconds and then heard her father's call, "come over to the next bay ". They were repairing product lines. Each bay had a plastic tube supplying soap to a foaming scrub brush. These lines ran from the equipment room, through the attic space, and into each wash bay. The girl was helping her father make the repair. Always the tool gopher and clean up crew, the girl learned a lot from her father.
The girl often was asked to help with the family business, a self serve and automatic carwash. At age 10, she started off as her father's helper, replenishing soap and wax solutions, collecting dollar bills from the money changer, and filling the various vending machines. Later she, at age 13, would scrub white wall tires, squeegee window shields, and towel dry clean cars. Eventually she, at age 15, would run the automatic carwash, empty 50 gallon sized trash bins, and clean out the washed away muck in the drainage trenches. She was like the son her father never had. The girl was a helper, an assistant, a responsible daughter, heeding her father's steady stream of instructions.
"Come over to the next bay space, don't step between the rafters, stay on the wood" called her father from across the attic space. The few second day-dream was broken and she immediately stepped forward to follow her father's directions. However a problem occurred which sent her back into a dream, a nightmare rather. When she stepped out, her foot did not land on the wood rafter. Somehow, when she made her way forward, she came down in the wrong place. Her clunky booted foot, instead, met with sheet metal, the ceiling of the washing bay 15 feet below. As quick as it bore her weight, it also melted away like butter and she descended as if in a dream. In the nightmare, the mini vacuum, in slow motion, tumbled from her arms, end over end, down, down, down, with cord trailing into the bay below and crashing into a pickup cab roof, startling its owner who lost control of the high pressure washer gun in which he was spraying off his vehicle. The girl was jolted to reality, like an unexpected scare, as if a siren alarm went off in a silent room. Thud; her arm pits caught on the solid rafters. Miraculously, her arm span was exactly perpendicular to the parallel rafter struts, preventing her fall to the bay below. With a hard fast jerk, her outstretched arms stopped her downward momentum. She was stuck. Her legs and torso dangled through the mangled sheet metal ceiling of the carwash bay below. And to her horror and mortification, she realized her sweatshirt was also up to her armpits exposing her torso a stranger below.
At the same instant, her father and a shell shocked customer bolted into action. The father saw his daughter disappear. The customer unexpectedly found a body crashing through the ceiling while washing his truck. The customer climbed up on top of his pickup cab roof and wrapped his arms around the girl's torso, trying to save her. The father deftly ran across the rafters and grabbed hold of the girl's shoulders. They all pulled at once, not knowing the other's action. The father yanked up, the customer heaved down, and the girl stuck in the middle. Confusion and self consciousness flooded the girl's body but before she had time to utter a word, she was catapulted to safety. The father had the upper hand and adrenalin strength to pull his girl out of harm. And as quick as he saved his daughter, he was off to take care of the damage done to the stunned customer, offering a free carwash for his trouble.
The day the girl melted through the carwash ceiling ended early. She was sent home to recover from the shock and embarrassment of her missed step. She learned a valuable lesson about ceilings and rafters that day but she was back on the job the next weekend. Working in the family business was a good experience. It gave the girl a sense of confidence and competence for the mechanical world. Having responsibility at an early age allowed her to develop attributes of diligence and problem solving in real life circumstances. However the most valuable asset received from the family business but one not appreciated until adulthood was the instruction and attention given to the girl by her father, truly a time-released treasure.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A Wedding Dress' Second Chance to Shine
One way to repurpose a wedding dress is to transform it into a keepsake Christmas tree skirt. The tree skirt should high light the dress’ best features. This dress, picked up at a local thrift shop, had a lovely beaded Venetian appliquéd lace panel on the center front of the bodice. It had complimentary lace windowed panels in the sleeve head as well as a large bow at the back waist line. The satin was off white with a shadow print pattern of roses and scrolling ribbons. It was an average looking dress and I like it better as a keepsake tree skirt. The dress yielded only enough to make the top of the tree skirt and I added lining and an inner layer. I also purchased extra trim to add texture and complexity to the original dress elements. I was hoping to make Christmas stockings to match the tree skirt but there just was not enough dress.
The newly made tree skirt highlights the center front bodice at 6 o’clock. The neckline is ornamented with the dress’ scalloped lace, shaped to form a dangling necklace. At 3 and 9 o’clock the sleeve panels are mounted. At 2, 4, 7 & 10 o’clock a decorative free motion stippling was applied to the plain satin. Narrow lace trim also radiates out at the same locations. The circumference is trimmed in a faux fur strip which also covers the opening edges at 12 o’clock. A closure is created with the large bow snapped at the center opening. My favorite element in this tree skirt is texture. When color is absent, texture takes over to add interest. Between the fur, stippling, lace, and beads, the eye has plenty of entertainment. This tree skirt has given new life to a garment that needed a second chance to shine
Jump Start – A 10 year old boy’s quest for better reading.
My young 10 year old son struggles. He’s a smart boy but is a slow stumbling reader. We’ve done testing and employed special education services. With many forms of intervention, he diligently plods on, but there have been frustrations. During his entire 3rd grade year, he outright refused to read at home. Because of his stress and anxiety over reading, I honored this refusal. But in 4th grade the dynamics were changing and I knew home reading was necessary for his success. Then, at the right time, a curious opportunity presented itself.
While on vacation, visiting family, a toddler cousin brought my son a book and asked him to read it. My son to his credit did not refuse. He slowly but successfully read the simple “I can read” book to his cousin. I pretended not to notice but silently celebrated because it gave me an idea. When we returned home, my son and I talked about his cousin and hatched a plan to send his cousin a gift. I nonchalantly asked my son if he would make an audio recording of his favorite picture books and send them to the little boy. At first my son gave a skeptical look, but I pulled out, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” and showed him the easy text. And to my surprise, he tentatively agreed. We set up a sound studio at the computer work station. A head set recording device fit over his ears. I had him practice each book twice before we made a recording. With his confidence building, each day we worked on the project for 15 minutes and ended up recording about 10 books.
Until one day, it all came to an end. My son rebelled. He declared no more picture books, no more audio recordings. A proclamation came from his lips; he was ready for chapter books. His friends were not reading picture books at home, they were reading chapter books and he should do likewise. So again, I honored his rebellion and now we read two chapters a day, at home.
More than an extra requirement, my son needed someone to acknowledge his struggles, anxiety, and stress over reading. Rather than add another demand for home reading, I realize that looking for opportunities which create a desire for reading, yield better results. My son is still a slow reader but he shows continuous improvement. He can now imagine himself reading chapter books like his peers and imagination is the first step in creating any reality.
Word Count 425
While on vacation, visiting family, a toddler cousin brought my son a book and asked him to read it. My son to his credit did not refuse. He slowly but successfully read the simple “I can read” book to his cousin. I pretended not to notice but silently celebrated because it gave me an idea. When we returned home, my son and I talked about his cousin and hatched a plan to send his cousin a gift. I nonchalantly asked my son if he would make an audio recording of his favorite picture books and send them to the little boy. At first my son gave a skeptical look, but I pulled out, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” and showed him the easy text. And to my surprise, he tentatively agreed. We set up a sound studio at the computer work station. A head set recording device fit over his ears. I had him practice each book twice before we made a recording. With his confidence building, each day we worked on the project for 15 minutes and ended up recording about 10 books.
Until one day, it all came to an end. My son rebelled. He declared no more picture books, no more audio recordings. A proclamation came from his lips; he was ready for chapter books. His friends were not reading picture books at home, they were reading chapter books and he should do likewise. So again, I honored his rebellion and now we read two chapters a day, at home.
More than an extra requirement, my son needed someone to acknowledge his struggles, anxiety, and stress over reading. Rather than add another demand for home reading, I realize that looking for opportunities which create a desire for reading, yield better results. My son is still a slow reader but he shows continuous improvement. He can now imagine himself reading chapter books like his peers and imagination is the first step in creating any reality.
Word Count 425
Jewelry Collage: A Keepsake That Could Last a Life Time.
In 1947, a young teenage girl, by the name of Betty Leonard was looking for a late summer boredom buster. Inspired by a magazine craft idea, she went door to door, through out her neighborhood asking for old costume jewelry. Accumulating a bagful, she created a collage, mounted on black velvet, from cast off pins and earrings. It was so tasteful, unique, and well made, that after 66 years, the jewelry collage still hangs on her wall. This type of collage delights the eye because the sparkle and texture of the jewelry richly contrasts with the lush nap of the velvet. It is fun to construct because deciding how to place the jewelry is like fitting together a puzzle. As in the case of Betty Leonard, it is a keepsake that could last a life time.
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