"Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" (reference to '70s TV series The Brady Bunch). These pants could have walked right out of that show. Or The Partridge Family, another TV series from the same era in which "a widowed mother and her five children make a hit record." Sounds plausible to me. These baggies remind me of the Partridge's concert tour bus, painted patchwork-quilt style. No bus for me, but I have a lunchbag handbag with trailers on it.
I did it. I did something huuuuge. I gave a talk about my style to the Vancouver Guild of Fabric Arts. Deb, the head of their programming, invited me several months ago. I ignored the impending date for quite a while, but then SUDDENLY, out of the blue, it was just over a week away. GAAA! Like I always do, I freaked out like a true professional.
This talk was the first time I've done public speaking since I gave my talk called "Unlearning How to Paint" a few years ago. This was more like Unlearning How to Dress or Unlearning the Style Rules. I seem to be wasting a lot of time learning then unlearning things.
I had to hike the pant legs to show off these over-the-knee boots I'm crazy for.
I had to wear them again before/if it ever gets warm.
The talk was called Confessions of a Closet Diva and it featured several costume changes. I went into it dressed a bit like a sausage, piling on layers of outfits under my oversized drop-crotch jeans and an oversized blouse like someone who'd exceeded their luggage allowance at the airport and had to wear the excess.
Bit by bit I revealed the next layers, while Vancouver Barbara, who is also a member of the Guild, held a sheet in front of me as my lovely assistant. Judy, another member of the Guild whom I've featured on my street style blog, kindly provided impromptu game-show vocal stylings during these interludes. Let me just say - the audience was STELLAR!! Simply STELLAR!! I couldn't have hoped for a more safe and encouraging environment.
So there I was, stripping down in front of a room full of strangers, pretty much, just like those dreams you have where you're naked in public. In my case, the dream came true. Too bad we can't pick and choose which dreams we have come true and when. Heh.
Did I tell you I was asked a while ago to be in StyleLikeU's What's Underneath project, the one where you strip down to your undies in front of a camera while you're being questioned about your life by someone off screen? The sessions often end in tears. It would have been excellent exposure (heh) with hundreds of thousands if not millions of viewers, but, while I was truly honoured to be asked, I declined. Definitely, it could have been another dream come true though.
That's all I'll say about the talk (and stripping), except that the feedback I've received from the presentation so far has been extremely encouraging, with even suggestions that it was more like performance art and would maybe work for the Fringe Festival, which is like an off-off-Broadway-by-several-thousand-miles theatre festival of fringy works. I love fringe! And dingle balls too! That would be awesome. Of course my reaction presupposes that comparing my talk to performance art is a good thing. Heh.
So my mind is turning, turning. Every time I scare myself by doing a new thing, my mind starts hurtling into new territory. I'm afraid of what I'll want to unlearn next.
You may note the wrinkles around the crotchal area, rather accordion-looking. That particular instrument doesn't exactly evoke the genre or rhapsody one would prefer in that area.
And this last photo, I'll explain. As a member of the media, on May 13 I attended a big fundraiser event for Positive Living BC, which assists people who are HIV positive. There were about 100 actors/models in the show, including, happily, two of the people I styled with Su Bennett for the fashion show of My Sister's Closet's parent organization, Battered Women's Shelter Society, a couple of years ago (here): Stella Panagiotidis (IG here) and Marc Swiednicki. They were outstanding.
I arrived at the venue during cocktail hour at 7 p.m. and didn't leave until the show was over around 11:30. It was a long evening but bursting with talent, generosity, and caring. While I was walking home, I ran across this man whom I'd seen inside earlier. He was waiting for a taxi to take him home. This photo I took of him standing there without his shoes on sums up the whole evening, along with the exhaustion of accomplishment. Unfortunately, I didn't get his name.
I posted on the event on my street style culture blog, Culture Serf. You can see it here.
That's it for this week, sweet chickens.
No blog post these days is complete without linking up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style and her Visible Monday, and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb and her #iwillwearwhatilike. I'll probably see you there.
Have you done anything scary lately? Like drink expired milk? Walk when the hand is flashing? Do tell. I usually respond to comments but I'm later (than usual) this time.
A gown I love, but can I wear it? Well, technically, yeah I can, but the design has a puddle hem. Great for cleaning sidewalks. Great for dusting floors. How about I just stick a bunch of Swiffer dusting cloths under it and swan around the house as part of my glam-up-my-life project?
I have no choice but to be carried when I wear this gown. But seriously? No matter how romantic that sounds, being carried is usually not terribly comfortable in real life, especially in a dress with drop shoulders and strapless underthings.
This outfit is like Morticia Addams on Skittles. Too bad my hair fell down.
I took this photo of the dress in the concrete box. So much better here I think.
And then there is the fear of being dropped, hard, awkwardly, or slipping slowly, inexorably out of deceptively muscled arms until I end up with one leg half-dragging/hopping through the dirt. Piggy-back would work but only if I knew my carrier well and had a riding crop and rallying cry. "Onward ho!" Maybe not - why do words change meaning?
The fireman's carry would work, two people with crossed arms, chair style. Oh yes. Yes, that would be splendid, but I'd need to find two people who get along to accomplish that - harder than it sounds. I simply will not act as no man's land between two warring factions with their fists near my buttocks.
Below I practise the safety position.
I could hoist the dress and carry the hem or get someone else to lift my train, but then what's the frigging point, right? You are probably thinking, brides handle these awkward situations all the time - well, heck yeah, it's kind of an inauguration for what's to come in marriage, isn't it?
I could actually give up and walk normal style in the dress and let the hem do its dirty work, but I cannot ignore the increased risk of tripping and falling on my face (which, by the way, I did when Suzanne visited, I was not wounded). And now that my life odometer recently turned over again (the reset is faulty and doing it is perhaps even illegal!) there is the risk of bone breakage.
I would never, ever sit down here. Hahaha!!
Let's say I do get to my swanky destination clean and unharmed, dignity intact, the clingy nature of the dress means I would still be picking at my garment immediately upon arrival, preferably in the privacy of a bathroom - oh yes, exactly where I want to be (eyes roll), looking almost fabulous next to the toilet. Not only that, I'd be wasting precious trough time at the buffet and bar, assuming the other glitterati hadn't cleaned them out already, not having been detained by a prior summit meeting on the Puddle Hem Situation (PHS).
I am looking forward to advances in remote control helicopters which could safely air-lift me to such events in such hems. All I would need to do is clothespin-shut the bottom of the dress so that gawkers on the ground would not get any free shows or showers because I'd probably be scared out of my wits - which could, now I think about it, also be problematic.
Sigh.
I bought this gown from Talize thrift store - I don't remember, but I think Suzanne pre-picked it for me (she also did that for my fave maxi denim coat). I'm glad it was only $16. If I charged by the word for this blog post, the cost would have dropped considerably already. Hurray! Not a waste of money after all. For those of you muttering "scissors," wash your mouth out with soap.
AND -
As I mentioned in my previous post, I met up with Suzanne Carillo for a day of high tea, thrift shopping, and my first-ever evening at a comedy club, and then a few days later Sue of A Colourful Canvas joined in too for a day of thrift shopping, filming, and dinner that lasted hours and hours, during which time we solved all our problems forever. Yay!
Below is the video I edited together from filming we did at Talize thrift store in Delta, BC, not too far from Vancouver. The story was put together by Suzanne based on her blog post 20 Thrift Shopping Secrets for Quality Treasures. Would you believe we jotted the ideas down on a napkin at the comedy club? Heh. Other shoppers seemed to think we were having too much fun. Indeed we were. You can see this dress in the cart near the end of the video. Heh.
TA DA!!
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There's more news but I shall spare you. If you've made it this far, you need a gold medal for diving over the finish line. It's busy here. Good.
I'll link up with Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb. For not actually wearing the dress except in the stairwell so far, I certainly got around. Heh.
