Come and gone...

Once again the Stardust Ball has come and gone. The Rockabilly Circus was what one might term a success, if one were possessed of the habit of rating every experience meticulously. I would be lying if I said I was not one of those people. The truth is, I am cursed with the desire to relive and debrief every moment endlessly, much to the exhaustion of my friends. In any case, while I feel we could have amped the energy just a notch, we did respectably, and I got some heartwarming praise from a few people whose opinions I treasure. So there you are.

As everyone knows, it was also my birthday, and that made for an interesting evening. I got cake and kisses, as well as some marvelous presents. Princess Japonski went out of her way to make this a birthday worth something, and she outdid herself. First and foremost, flying cross country for three nights of debauched tomfoolery with her favorite rockstars, and some imported rockstars, was above and beyond the call of duty. Then she provided champagne and cake, style advice and many soothing words of encouragement, and a Johnny Cash DVD. Clearly, they broke the mold when they made her.

I have thanks to offer everyone who worked so hard to make these few days so astounding, including my mom and my ex (may he never get another mention in these pages) who made sure Miss Thing and Cap'n Jack were fed and clothed and kept out of traffic. Also every fan who turned up after the relentless barrage of promotion I subjected you all to. And the person who donated the coach for the stage, complete with skelly driver. And to my friends, who always know just what I want and how to bring it. And to the Dusty 45's, for being talented and handsome and accommodating, even if I may not let Billy stand on my bass again. And of course to my band, without whom the magic just could not happen.



Now I get to do it all again, without the bourbon, because it's Bea's birthday. There will be more pink things, if only marginally, and fewer people in costume, f only marginally, but I expect it will have the same general flavor of mayhem, because, after all, she is my very own.

Another post about my hair.

I have been meaning to do this to my hair since July, when I was in New York. But I'm a wimp. I've had the bleach since August, and the color for about three weeks now. I just managed it last night. And it's sort of anticlimactic, which frankly is the story of my life. It's a little pinker than it appears in these pics, but not by much. I was too scared to bleach it the way it needed. Next time.

I am further along on the costumes than I thought I was going to be. Miss Thing's is in fact nearly complete, but I don't have pictures because I have come to hate my mother's digital camera and have done nothing to replace it with one of my own. My own costume is perhaps 65% wearable, and 48% complete (it needs tons of embellishment). I really should stop messing about on the net and go do that right now...

By the way, I'm on the phone with Princess Japonski in these pictures.

Happy Birthday!

Okay, so Princess Japonski actually had her birthday several days ago. Two and a half weeks ago, to be precise, which puts us squarely in the no-man's land in between her natal celebration and my own. I have been waiting a long time (more than two weeks) to write this post, because for some reason, the USPS decided to take its own sweet time delivering the present I slaved over for her. Finally, she got it, and finally, she opened it, and so FINALLY I can show you all what she has that the rest of you (well, except for one) do not. I am happy to introduce to you, that unmistakable icon of Christ's love for man personified through the Catholic Church, The Sacred Heart of our Savior, Jesus:



And the beaded representation of His blood, and the thorns that show the weary pain of mortal existence (as represented by some metallic embroidery thread):



I jest, perhaps securing my bunk in the Dormitory of Eternal Torment, but it was really meant in respect. And because, truthfully, who hasn't want to make the Son more approachable and human by cuddlifying His iconography?

I did make her something else, but I'll let her relate that story. You can pursue the rest of this story over at Letters to Bea.

The US Postal Service is so slow!

I finally got all the fabric for the costumes, and I started work on it all yesterday. As usual, I am terrified to cut into any of it, so I am just hovering around the edges, making things out of my stash. Read: constructing only things I know how to make already. This happened to me last year, too, and I was (mostly) satisfied with the way my costume turned out. Someday I will replace all the trim on that one, though, because I hate that it's so slipshod. Bea is completely in love with the stuff i got for her tail, and if allowed will wrap herself in it entirely. I think that instead of just a skirt, which is what I had in mind before, I will make her an Empire-waisted dress, just to take advantage of the glorious pink-ness of it all.


You can kind of see in that last picture how the holographic foil is wonderfully rainbow-y. The frilly hotter-pink stuff is mine. Originally it was going to be just for the top, but I think I will try to incorporate it into a tutu somehow, if I get my hands on a ruffler foot or something.

I WANTED to show pictures of what I made for Princess Japonski for her birthday, but since I keep forgetting that New York is the other side of the planet, practically, she has not yet received it, and I refuse to ruin her surprise. So you have to wait, too. I'll post terrible pictures of its awesome as soon as she opens it.

I am mustering up my courage to cut fin pieces today. Wish me luck!

It's time to sew for Halloween again!

Actually, it's far past time to start sewing again, but since I've been occupied with planning and playing gigs, and friends visiting, and last minute(to me, seven weeks ahead of time is last minute) changes of plan, I am just now settling in to really get some work done. H.and I, because we are remarkably similar in our tastes, got all giddy and excited to dress the band as a circus troupe for the High Holiday. She will of course be the ringmaster, although I secretly covet that exalted position, and I will be the equestrienne/tightrope-walker/acrobat/sitter-atop-elephants/etc. Or the knife-throwers assistant, which only makes sense if there is a knife thrower, I think. Anyhow, I am determined to keep the costumes as 40's/50's pin-uppy as possible, so I am thinking that I will take my costume in a sort of burlesque, Dita Von Teese direction. But still sort of based on the Ceil Chapman aesthetic that I was basing my original costume on. I have already ordered black satiny stretch stuff and pink fluffy mesh stuff and I have some black point d'esprit that I have been hoarding like gold for two years, so that's in as well. I'll dye a few of last year's ostrich plumes pink, and we're golden.

Miss Thing (you know of whom I speak) wishes greatly to be a mermaid this year. A pink one. Okey-doke, say I. Oh brother. What have I gotten myself into? I managed to steer her away from her covetous longing for the officially licensed Disney Little Mermaid nonsense, and am instead contemplating making her one of the pictured tails, complete with fluke.



I am tickled by the idea of the long tail on a train, but I don't know how realistic that is for a fiddly preschooler. I suppose the ankle-length skirt with the floor-length flukes will have to suffice. We've ordered fabric for this, too, a silver on pink spandex extravaganza, with silver for the shells and even (this is how cool I am) some glissenette to make a shirt out of so the fight about a warm coat is preempted.

I am getting over the end of a wicked, grotesque ear infection that required antibiotics and a full two days in bed. Once my hearing returns (!) I will start the muslins for these. I am not using patterns for Li'l Bit's, and mine I am using a dangerous combination of several heavily modified things I have laying about the house, as usual. Oh, and for those who care, Cap'n Jack has decided to be Danny Zuko from Grease, so all that's required on that score is some pomade and a cheap leather jacket. Awesome.

I want knee socks.

I think that a key component of my fall wardrobe (should the Southeast Alaska weather cooperate) is going to be knee socks and high heeled Mary Janes. I don't have any, yet, but I am looking at a few pairs on eBay that will probably suit me fine. These red T-straps in particular are fetching. I think a nice heavy charcoal over-knee sock in a textured wool would look really cool with them and a black skirt. I am also loving the look of a tiny peeptoe over contrasting tights or socks. With the right dress, it could be so mod, which is very in right now.

I am attracted to brightly colored shoes. This is obviously wildly apparent to anyone who has known me for more than ten minutes or so. I have a closet full of them, and right now they only see the light of day when I have a gig. Maybe I should move somewhere with more of a night life.

Yes, that's a pompadour. No, you can't touch it.

I wore a little pompadour to work today. Nothing exciting, I didn't break out the Lay-rite or anything, but I was pretty surprised by the response. I got everything from, "Wow, you have really big hair!" to "Isn't the anniversary [of Elvis' death] next week" to a bad rendition of America sung to me in mock Puerto Rican accents, just like in West Side story.Now, I am not hardcore kulture like some of the kittens out there (and I have just exhausted my use of the lingo), but it's not like I never dress up, either. It got me to thinking about how we have a kind of weird reverse lookism in this town. When I am in a big city, Seattle, or recently the Big Apple, I often feel a little provincial, because frankly I can't be bothered to make the effort. But here, I feel so high maintenance sometimes that it embarrasses me.

Take, for instance, my outfit at the recent Homeskillet Festival. It is completely undistinguished for any self-respecting vintage-lovin' girl with a sewing machine. Look, the crinoline's not even as big as my bass! Any yet, you'd think I wore a wedding gown to the grocery store for all the excitement it generated. I don't know about living in a town where you are immediately suspect if you leave your house in lipgloss.

But back to the pomp. Vintage hair is BIG right now, awful pun intended. Amy Winehouse and Lily Allen are both proudly sporting beehives, and in the link for Lily, you can see kind of what my pompadour looked like today. My hair in back is shorter, but the little lift in the front was the same. These two are everywhere! 17 year old girls all across America are purchasing dusty cans of Aquanet, untouched since the Tawny Kitaen school of hairstyling was popular! Why, then, am I being abused for a simple, tiny (not even 4" high) pompadour? Because there is not exactly a brisk trade in maquillage in Sitka, that's why. And I am eternally an exception, never a rule. Thank the deities.