STATurday

About two weeks ago, I stepped on the scale, and saw a number that terrified me, a number that felt like the last stepping stone toward the number I said I'd never go to again.

When I was 19, I contracted some sort of spinal virus that affected me like a stroke (among other things).  I lost a lot of gross and fine motor function on the left side of my body, and it took about two years to regain it.  During that time, I was sick a lot, and spent almost every non-working hour in bed.  As a result, I gained a tremendous amount of weight.  Toward the end of the second year, I started to feel better, and to regain control of my left side.  I started walking almost every day with my roommate, and made an effort to control my diet.  I lost some weight and then moved back to Russia and lost most of the rest of what I'd gained.  I vowed never to get that big again unless a gestating baby was involved.

This past year has been frustrating and scary--I've gained some weight (after losing only half of the baby weight from Ponchik) and I've felt like my body was spiraling out of control, bloating and expanding, unable to trust my body's signals.  This was all despite my efforts to be mindful of my caloric intake.

Something just snapped in me when I saw that number.  I decided that I was done with coddling my injuries, and that I needed to get my diet back on track.  I've been frustrated for a long time with the paucity of food options available to me, between the allergy restrictions and the fat/fiber restrictions from gastroparesis.  It occurred to me recently, after doing some more reading about gastroparesis, that a lot of symptoms I had chalked up to PCOS were in fact because of malnutrition due to the gastroparesis.  Even the rapid weight gains over the past year could be because my body thinks it is starving and holding on to every calorie it can get. I knew that I needed to get my nutrition on track.

I finally found a nutritionist who a) returned my phone call; b) did not hang up on me when I explained that I do *not* have diabetes; and c) was willing to work me, despite a rather daunting list of things I can't or shouldn't eat.  The basic trouble is in a healthy normal person, moderate fat and and high fiber foods are the ways that the body feels full without a high caloric load.   There is almost nothing in those categories that are okay for me to eat in any quantity.  The preferred diet for gastroparesis is white, mostly bland, and pretty soft.  In other words, the anti-diet.  I've tried to follow the guidelines, but I get frustrated with the small range of things available, once I cut out the food allergens, and I also end up feeling hungry all the time (and, paradoxically, bloated).  So I end up eating more fiber or fat than I should and paying severe consequences as a result.

The nutritionist and I spent a long intake session talking through my history, plus the restrictions, and came up with a few key things to try.  I immediately ran into difficulties for a variety of reasons, but after a follow-up call a few days after the intake, and some days to work out the kinks, I'm feeling better about my options.  

This week, I decided to give a birthday present to myself: I rejoined the gym I used to belong to before Birdie was born.  Their rates are much lower than when I was a member before, and their babysitting is much more reasonable.  The gym is about 3 city blocks from my house, and next to the Whole Foods that we frequent.  I feel hugely motivated to get into the rhythm of working out regularly again, and also to be better about hitting a specific calorie target each day.

I've been mostly housebound this winter with the kids' health issues, and spending 90 minutes in the car most days with school drop off and pick up, and going back to the T25 Beachbody workouts wasn't a great fit even though I really like the workouts.  I needed to get out of the house, and I needed something temperature controlled, because it is too hot in my house in the summer to work out at home.  So the gym was the logical answer.

When I was active with the T25 Beachbody workouts, in the fall and early winter of 2013-2014, one feature of the group support was a weekly check-in called STATurday.  We had to check in with the Facebook group and say how much we lost (or gained) in inches and pounds, and also how well we kept up with our workouts that week.  It was a useful touchpoint in the week.

I'd like to start doing that here, to chronicle progress and failure, to document the journey (again) and perhaps someone will find it helpful along the way.  I don't really know how often I plan to check in on the blog.  I'll have to feel my way through it.  I'm using My Fitness Pal again to track calories and exercise, at the request of the nutritionist, so I have a pretty good metric of how my week is going.

So here's the skinny (or, in my case, fatty) for this week:  I had my fitness orientation at the gym yesterday, which included a body fat test using calipers (the next best thing to hydrostatic testing) and the number was....troubling.  I was expecting it, given my weight, but it still gave me pause.  The trainer who met with me gave me a circuit to use for strength training, and I'm doing cardio on my own.  He gave me a target of 27 pounds to lose, which I feel is attainable, given time.

I'm trying to make good food choices most of the time, and not freaking out over times when I don't make a good choice, or when I make a bad choice intentionally.  I'm tracking calories closely, and telling myself again: This is the way it is going to be.  I've lost 2 pounds this week.

I've been doing interval training on the treadmill, which basically means I walk a lap at 3.7-4.0 mph and run a lap at 5.5-6.0 mph until I get to 2.25 miles and then I do a cool down.  It ends up being about 40 minutes and 2.5 miles for about 225 calories burned.  I need to replace the battery in my Polar Fit watch, but once I do, I'm going to start wearing it while working out, just to be more accurate about the burn.

I joined the gym on Wednesday, and have gone three days this week (I'm planning to go on Saturday too, and will do my 2.5 miles)  I did my cardio interval training those three days, plus a strength training circuit on Friday.  I got my first runner's high on Wednesday, and, while I was tired and sore after the next two workouts, I felt it was time well spent.

My plan going forward is to do cardio 5-6 days, and strength training 2-3 days.  I know that sounds like a crazy schedule, but I know that in the beginning, at least for me, consistency is the best thing for developing the habit.  We have some small trips planned soon, and I'm going to bring my T25 workouts with me so I can stay on track while I'm away from home.

I realize too that my daily routine is going to be different.  I need to approach this thing like it is my job.  I've been in the habit of doing a lot of my sewing in the mornings and knitting in the afternoons, and I'm not willing to get up before the kids on a regular basis to work out, so I'm going to have to give up a lot of my sewing time, at least for now.  In a way, that is okay with me.  I'm kind of ready for a sewing break, and my body has changed enough this year that my slopers are starting to be a bit off.  I need to do this for myself right now, and I've got enough clothes for the moment.  I can still knit or do hand work in the afternoons to give myself the creative outlet.

So week one: 2 pounds down, 7.5 miles interval training, 40 minutes circuit training

Bam.  Let's do this thing.

Fade to Blue

I post this dress under the "keeping it real" category--the heat and humidity finally broke after a torrential rain storm all day yesterday and I'm very grateful, but the bright light is definitely less than optimal for taking photographs!  Plus, I still have a flag growing out of my head because I don't know how to edit it out.  Also: my hair is having a freak out today because the humidity is so much lower.  Cie la vie.  

This is the blue seersucker dress I showed briefly in my Project 333 post.  It is exactly like the green one except I did a better job on the inseam pockets--I've done several dresses with them now, and I get a little better at it with each iteration.  I also think that the blue colorway of this fabric is a bit lighter in weight than the green, so it handled a little differently while sewing.  In any case, I'm pleased with it.  

I'm hoping to try some different accessory combinations (red!) soon, but today felt like a blue day, so I went with a blue and silver pendant necklace and silver bell earrings.  I've had the pendant since childhood (probably a gift from one of my dad's sisters at some point, if I had to guess) and recently bought a silver chain to put it on.  

I got the Salt Water sandals for my birthday last year, and I have to say, I didn't love them last year--they seemed to fit a little strangely, and I wasn't happy with how flat they are.  I have super high arches, and really flat shoes are not always kind to my feet.  I discovered this year, however, that they are wonderful water shoes, since you can get them wet without damage, and my old flip flops were deader than dead after ten years and needed to be replaced anyway. The Salt Waters also fit better after having been thoroughly soaked a few times.

With all the rain we've had this summer, I've been wearing the Salt Waters a lot more, and they have really grown on me!  I've been going to physical therapy for my feet this spring and summer, and I seem to be tolerating the flat soles much better.  Maybe I'll get a red pair at some point.

Not much to say about this dress--I did do the bias contrast on the sleeves a little differently on the this one.  On the green dress, I didn't really know what I was doing, and ended up having to hand stitch the bias to the outside of the sleeves, which is fine, but not quite as neat as doing it to the inside.  This time I was more confident in my process and put them on just like my regular bias tape application, and it worked just fine.   I also machine stitched the neckline and hem, because I made this during a particularly hot and humid stretch of days last week and I just couldn't bear to deal with hand sewing it all down.  I used a stretch needle on the machine to help with the high percentage of mechanical stretch in the fabric.

I do have an obi-belt cut out for this dress and the green one, but can't muster the energy or interest to finish them.  Ditto for a self-sash.  Accessories for next summer, I suppose.  

And a funny for your Thursday morning; the boys are in French camp this month, and for Bastille Day, they made these frog faces out of apples, marshmallows, grapes, and chocolate chips.  My husband picked them up from camp that day to take them to swimming lessons, and dropped the frogs off at home without my knowing.  So this was my view when I opened the fridge to start making dinner:

I admit, I laughed.

Outfit details:

Fade to Blue seersucker dress: me made

Silver heart necklace: gift given in childhood

Earrings: antique mall (but probably originally from 1942 Sears catalog)

Salt Water sandals: birthday gift last year

Belt: etsy

HSM #7: Accessory: Sing Me a Song

I've long been a fan of rayon challis.  My very favorite dress (above) was a random thrift store find from the 1980s.  It has a 1940s vibe to it, and I'm really sad that it doesn't fit me right now.  When it fit, I always felt good in it, and I really liked the flow of the dress.  I don't quite dare to take it apart and make a pattern from it, because I'm not sure I can get it back together (all the edges are serged, which presents a number of difficulties in this direction).  I'm still hopeful that it will fit again some day.  

Recently, Lauren from Wearing History recently had a fantastic sale on the custom printed rayon fabric used for the Maisie sash and dress and the Norma Jean blouse.  Even though I supported the Kickstarter campaign (and I love my Wearing History canvas bag!), I didn't buy any of the ready-to-wear garments for a variety of reasons.  But the per-yard price of the fabric was too good to resist.  

So.  Rayon challis.  It represents a kind of fabric frontier for me, as I've been scared to work with it.  Some rayons are very shifty and difficult, and others are nice and behave almost like stable cottons.  It is also strangely hard to find any in nice prints.  Gertie has a couple of them for Joann's (I bought the cherries print when it was on crazy good sale recently) and I sometimes find a random bolt when I'm in a physical store, but mostly, the rayon challis I find comes in solid colors that I wouldn't want to wear, and in a quality that doesn't seem nice to me.   

I did let this fabric sit for quite some time.  I washed it right away, and then asked some advice of a Facebook sewing group I'm in.  One of the gals recommended using stretch needles, and so I had to wait for a packet of them to arrive before attempting to work with this fabric.  It actually was quite easy to work with!  It was stable while cutting (much more so than the linens I've been working with) and pressed easily and sewed well.  I cut a modified sweetheart neckline, just for something different, and finished the raw edges with white cotton bias tape that I sewed down by hand.  My only complaint is that my Frankenpattern behaved completely differently with rayon, and my dress ended up at least two sizes too big on top.  And the bodice came out about 2" too long.  I'm not really sure why this happened.

I had a little tantrum and threw it in the time out corner for a few days before putting the thing on inside out and pinning out the excess.  I had hoped I could fix it without reinserting the zipper, but it was not to be.  I had to unpick the whole bodice from the skirt (including the zig-zagged edges!) and remove the zip.  I pinned out 2" on each side seam, and pin-basted the skirt higher up on the bodice.  I sewed everything back together, and I'm really quite pleased with it now!!  I was worried it would feel too dressy, but actually, now that I'm wearing it, it feels just right for a day dress.  

I did make a soft sash to go with it, but I kind of like the green belt instead.  I actually have several belts that coordinate with this print.  I tried buttons on the bodice, but they just got lost in the print, and I decided that simpler is better anyway.  (Plus the buttons really pulled the fabric down--rayon challis is quite drapey).

I also decided to make my Historical Sew Monthly submission for July to go with this dress.  This month's theme is Accessory.  (I have one other item to put into the challenge, but I have to photograph it!) Felt brooches were quite common in the early 1940s, and I've long been enamored of them.  I've been wanting to make a floral posy for a while, but when I saw this print, I knew my first try was going to be a music note. 

 I spent a lot of years playing the piano and organ, singing in choirs, directing choirs, playing in orchestras (bassoon) and various symphonic bands.  I thought a music note was extremely appropriate to my history and interests, as well as a bang-up accompaniment to this dress.  I've also seen a bakelite musical brooch set on etsy, so I knew it was era appropriate.

I went with navy blue felt, because the green and pink I had didn't quite match, plus I knew that navy would go with some other items in my closet.  I made a template from a google image print out, traced it on the felt with tailor's chalk, cut it out double and then used a buttonhole stitch to finish the edges.  I sewed two brooch pins to the back since it is a tall piece--my experience with my V for Victory brooch is that these larger felt brooches really need two pins to be stable.

I'm pretty pleased with the result, and hope to try some more iterations soon.  I bought a pdf of a 1940s brochure on making felt flower brooches and would like to try a few from it at some point.  This music note was a nice dip into the waters of felt brooch making.  It is also lightweight enough to wear with the rayon and not pull it down or wreck the fabric.

First pedicure of the season!  My husband would have preferred color on my hands as well, but honestly, it isn't hardly worth the money since my fingernails often start chipping on the way home!

The Challenge: Accessory

What is it?: A novelty felt brooch

Fabric: Eco-felt (polyester felt made from recycled plastic bottles)

Pattern: self-drafted but based on novelty brooches of the WW2 era

Year: 1940-1945

Notions: thread, brooch pin backs

How historically accurate is it? 9/10.  I used polyester recycled felt, whereas a period brooch would have been wool felt, but I kind of think that the recycled felt is more in the spirit of make do and mend.  I also used polyester all-purpose thread, whereas cotton or linen thread probably would have been the norm (or even wool yarn in fingering weight).  The style and size are historically appropriate, however.

Hours to complete: It was a fast project--probably an hour.

First worn: July 14, 2015

Total cost: ~$2 (the felt was part of a larger pack, and the brooch pins came in a larger pack of 50 or something like that)

Outfit details: 

Melody rayon challis dress: me made using basic frankenpattern

Music note brooch: me made

Bell earrings: Antique mall, but originally from the 1942 Sears catalog

Shoes: Naturalizer via ebay

Project 333

I've been reading Stephanie's blog for a long time now, and I really enjoy reading about her sewing ventures, as well as her efforts to create a vintage capsule wardrobe.  I'm ever in favor of a minimalist closet, and of being very intentional about my sewing efforts, so her latest blog post caught my attention.  I've heard of Project 333 before (possibly from Stephanie); the idea is that you choose 33 items for your closet for 3 months, and then rotate again in 3 months, according to the season.  I've sort of used it as a rough guide to my clothing for the past year or so, but I still felt like getting dressed in the morning was a lot of work.

I've been doing some reorganizing and sorting, as part of my ongoing effort to keep our family's clothing simple and pared down.  For a long time, I've stored off season/maternity clothing in soft Rubbermaid and Ziploc totes under my bed, as there is a scant 4" of head space under the running board, so hard-sided bins will not fit under my bed.  I use two XL 10 gallon Ziploc totes and two small 5 gallon Rubbermaid totes.  (I use the 15 and 30 gallon Rubbermaid totes for other soft storage needs throughout the house and like them very much).  

I ended up sorting out my own stuff yesterday, and ruthlessly piled items by season, fit, wearability, etc.  I pulled everything out, including off season stuff or clothes that don't fit well right now, and I realized then that my clothing was sorting nicely into seasonal piles.  A few months ago I put a bin in the basement for the few maternity items I'm keeping, plus some vintage stuff that is too small or fragile to wear regularly.  I added a few more things to it after my sort yesterday--mostly some hand mades that I like but am not wearing regularly for one reason or another. 

I decided to put all the spring-related items into one five gallon tote, all my winter skirts in another five gallon tote, all the fall stuff into one of the extra large Ziploc totes, and the winter stuff into the other. There is a bit of overlap with the seasons, obviously, particularly with cardigans and skirts, but for the most part, it is neat and organized. 

 I'm giving up on the idea of having a wardrobe that works for the whole year--it just isn't realistic when you live in a climate that swings from 100 degrees to 10 below throughout the year.  And while having a dress-heavy wardrobe is easy in some respects, I do like options with my cardigans to keep my dresses feeling fresh.  (I also struggle dreadfully with feeling cold in the winter, so sometimes I'm wearing many many layers just to be comfortable in my house).  I'm aware that a full drawer or bursting closet is stressful to me, but I have to balance that against my daily clothing needs and my laundry cycle (which is quite long in the summer time)

The end result is that I finally feel like my summer wardrobe is useful, and also that I have a logical place to go for the next season when it is time to switch things out.  I made a list of all my clothing, organized by season, and then started counting, and it turns out that I have between 26-30 garments per season, not counting shoes, accessories, and undergarments.  I have four pairs of shoes in the vestibule, which feels like enough for variety but not too much to clutter up the shoe shelf.  I may put the closed-toe navy sandals back in the basement as I wore them a lot this spring, but not as much since it got really hot and nasty (plus I'm hoping for a pair of red shoes for my birthday in a few weeks!)

So here is my Summer 30:

Separates:

Red 1940s twill skirt

Green linen-cotton Hollyburn skirt

Navy linen skirt (pictured at top of post)

White linen skirt

Feedsack blouse

Art Deco blouse

Bunny Blouse

Vintage floral lawn blouse

3 cardigans (one not pictured)

2 knit t-shirts (the other one pictured at the top of this post)

Dresses:

Green and blue seersucker dresses (blog post on the blue soon!)

Vintage medallion seersucker dress

Watermelon dress

White voile dress (eshakti)

1934 Seersucker dress

1922 One Hour Dress

Chambray dress

Pink linen dress

Mesa dress

Baby Got Quilt Back dress

Fa So La dress

Green Geometry dress

Spotty orange dress

Melody rayon challis dress (blog post coming soon!)

blue knit dress

Green cookie book dress (cut but not sewn yet)

I'm not counting things like belts and jewelry in my list, because I tend to rotate amongst a small set of items anyway, and I use my belts and jewelry for variety with my dresses, since I don't wear a lot of separates right now.  My waist measurement changes enough that I need options for belts/sashes, etc.  30 garments give me a little bit of leeway to buy or make something else this season (although, honestly, I'm ready to stop machine sewing for the season, given the heat; the Green cookie book dress might have to wait until fall).  There are a few dresses that I wore a ton in May and June, but am not reaching for now that the heat is really on, and might get reclassed in my spring wardrobe, as it is a little on the light side.  We'll see how the rest of the season shakes out.

I suppose if this is helpful to anyone besides me, I might revisit it again in the fall when I change over. (I might do so anyway, just for my own amusement).

Nike Dress

I'm calling this one the Nike dress, because I nearly psyched myself out about it, but then gave myself a mental slap and told myself to just get on with it.  Just do it already.

I decided in early June that I really wanted a plain linen dress, something that would work with my skin tone, and be cool and comfortable for the summer.  I wanted something very loose and unfitted, and I wanted a dress with minimal seams, since linen frays like crazy.  I found some handkerchief weight linen on fabric.com for under $8/yard, in a bright fuschia pink and decided to take a chance on it.  It arrived while I was away, and it took about a week to both get it to the house, prewash the fabric, and then decide what to do with it.  

I cut this dress just like the cool as a cuke seersucker dress.  I cut my frankenpattern all in one, eliminating the waist seam, and cutting inseam pockets from a random pattern piece I found my pattern box.  This linen was extra shifty, and didn't soften as much in the wash as the navy blue linen did (although I think it will soften more with time and beating in the dryer), so it was a bit of a stink to cut.  The sleeves came out slightly shorter than I expected, and the hem came out kind of wavy.  I ended up losing a couple of inches to the length in trying to straighten it out.  It is still a bit uneven, but at a certain point, I just had to throw up my hands and say good enough.  #horseshoesandhandgrenades

I was able to use bias binding on the raw edges, and machine hem everything, which was nice.  It is loose enough that I can pop it over my head, so I could skip inserting a zip, which was also nice.  Linen can be finger pressed pretty easily, which is a nice feature when you are working with it, as it does save some time at the ironing board.  I pinked and zig-zagged all my raw seams, and did a slightly different order of construction so that I could sort out the shoulder seams, which were not wanting to match up.

I ended up adding a small tuck to each shoulder, which was a nice little decorative touch--I may do it in the future instead of trimming the shoulders to match.  It does make the bodice fit differently in the back, but I think I like it.

It is fairly wrinkled, after a day in 93 degree heat and high humidity, plus 90 minutes in the car between camp drop off and pick up for the boys, so I'm a bit worse for wear at this point, but I actually think that wrinkles are just part of the fabric when you are working with 100% linen.  It is light and cool and the color is good for my skin, so I'm going to call this a win.  I did make a soft sash to cinch the waist, but it is so hot today, I didn't want to wear it, and actually, it fits better without it anyway.  I guess it is kind of trapeze-like, but honey bear don't care.  I suppose I should get my hair into a beehive or something and channel the 60s. (um...no)  The color was kind of hard to capture--it is a very bright blue-pink color--probably about the only shade of pink that works with my skin tone!

I understitched the pockets, which really helped them to roll to the inside--this is the first time I've had good success with this technique.  I'll probably do it on future iterations of this dress (I have another seersucker dress in the hopper, plus something planned for fall)

This is probably the only photo that is true to color--the light was terrible with all the heat, but that was the best I could do!

Nike dress: me-made with Lightweight Pure Linen from fabric.com

Necklace: Beadforlife.com (bought at a small coffee shop in Jefferson City, MO on my last trip)

Earrings: gift

Shoes: naturalizer via ebay

Get Over It: Revisiting Wildwood

Please forgive a rather navel-gazing post.  I sometimes find it helpful to think out loud, so to speak, and this is my thinking space, so...

I will be the first to admit that I tend toward black-and-white thinking.  I've learned to see and appreciate gray areas as I've grown older and my life has gotten more complicated, but I do tend to a certain rigidity, particularly toward myself.  I have some perfectionist tendencies, and I'm pretty hard on myself, and find it hard to give myself grace.  

I also have a tendency to either give up on things too quickly, or, perversely, to hang on long past the point of reason.  I think some combination of these traits in me are part of why I am constantly overanalyzing my sewing, or my clothing, or both.  Sometimes it works in my favor: I can easily give up on things that don't fit well, or don't suit my coloring, or just didn't work out for one reason or another.  Sewing is a constant learning curve, and like the craftsman, I try to learn from my mistakes and do it better next time, to get closer to the image in my head.

The problem for me at the moment is that I don't have a good image in my head.  Or rather, I don't have a coherent image in my head.  I kind of like some of the lagenlook stuff, in part because it would suit my body for the half of the month that it does.not.behave, and in part because I just like the look of it.  I love the late 1910s, but not for warm weather.  I still like the fit and flare silhouette of the 1930s/1940s, and that is pretty much what I wear, but I'm still trying to figure out how to to dress my changing body well in a way that feels good and age-appropriate to me.

I need to get over myself.

I've made a lot of things this spring and early summer; some were complete failures, some were just so-so, and some were really good additions to my closet.  I think because I sew them myself, I have this feeling like everything should be a win, but even with ready-to-wear, that is rarely the case.  I hardly buy RTW any more (except for accessories like cardigans or undergarments), so I forget this.

I know it probably seems like my closet must be bursting at the seams, but it really isn't.  My tiny Victorian closet (4' long x 13" deep) can only accomodate 14 hangers at most, and the hangers can only hang front to back, so I'm naturally limited.  I'm trying to think about my wardrobe more seasonally.  It is tempting for me to want to make things that I can wear year round, but the truth is that I don't wear certain things year round.  I wear some colors in summer and others in winter, and generally don't mix them.  I have some pieces that can be worn three seasons, but almost nothing that is year round.  And that is okay.

I'm trying to be better about rotating things in and out of my closet with the seasons.  Take this dress, for example.  I made it in May, thinking it was going to be this great summer staple--a Tokyo Train Ride dress for the warm months--but it just hasn't been.  It fits pretty well, the color suits my complexion well, and I do really like the print.  It light weight enough for really disgustingly hot weather,  but I just haven't wanted to wear it in the heat.  I was almost ready to pass it on (sorry, Donna!) but then I stopped and took a beat.  It is actually a great spring dress, for those days when I want something lighter in color, to wear with boots and a sweater.  Or those weird days in May where you wear sandals and a cardigan and ditch layers as the day wears on.  Which is okay.  

I've made some great summer dresses as well, and I'm starting to get a better feel for what I really do wear in the high heat and humidity.  For whatever reason, it is hard for me to project myself into the heat when I'm sewing out of season, so I think the lesson of this dress is that I need to sew for the season I'm in, rather than the season I'm going into.  So even though I'm crushing on fall colors right now, and dreaming of my fall projects, I'm going to hold off starting any of them until September at the earliest.  I still have a few summer projects I'd like to finish.

The keen-eyed will notice that I've ditched the buttons--I like it much better without them.  I also like it better with these more neutral low-contrast sandals.  I do think it could benefit from a slightly shorter hem (which I may get to one of these days), and I made the unfortunate mistake of photographing it several days during May when my middle was VERY bloated, and seeing those pictures made me remember how I felt like I was busting out of the dress all day, but in reality, it looks fine, and I'm trying to accept that there are just some garments that are only going to fit/look good for a small portion of every month.  I'm wearing a lot less jewelry these days, and my hair routine is very basic right now; I think that plays a role in how I wear my clothes as well, and I'm trying to be sensitive to these changes when I plan new projects.  

It has been hard for me to give up a very focused 1940s vintage look--I liked it very much, and felt very good in my clothing, but my body was a little more cooperative on a daily basis when I started with it all, and I felt less old.  It was a lot of fun to play with accessories and hair flowers and different hair styles.  But then my hair started falling out again, my gastroparesis has really flared this year, the weight has piled on, and I'm just busier as the kids are getting older.  Just life stuff.  In Janet Stephens' video recreating the hairstyles of Faustina the Younger, she notes that the elaborate hairstyle sported by the Empress as a young woman changed over time to a very simple braided chignon.  She speculates that it has to do with running a household with a large number of small children, but also a reflection of the Stoicism embraced by her husband.  As I ponder how best to navigate our post modern life, to live a simple life, to try to reclaim a premodern, pre-consumer mindset, and everything that goes along with that, as well as running a house with many small children, I suppose my own aesthetic is bound to change and simplify as well.

Outfit details:

Wildwood dress: me-made (pardon the discontinuity of photos--I had taken photos of this dress three times in the last two months)

Earrings: hand me down from my mom

Sandals: Naturalizer via ebay

By the Work of My Hands

My friend Willfulmina (her blog handle, not her real name!) writes a wonderful blog about her doing and making.  She spins and knits, bakes, cooks, and sews, and generally works hard to surround herself with handmade or craftily re-purposed things.  One thing I really admire about her approach to crafting is that it is in service of the life she has made with her family, rather than something outside of it.  It is very much an older approach to making and doing; one that seeks to serve the needs of the household and to enhance what is already there, rather than simply add to the "stuff" in the household (not that there isn't a place for this sort of making, but sometimes, the means don't serve the ends).  

She writes:

"The life I have cobbled together is full—of delicious babies wearing handmade clothing, of creating—every which way, all day long, of a husband who is proud to wear the things I make him out in public— then texts me when people compliment them.  I really love my life and I am proud of it.  I want to share more of it here.  So to the man who said I had my hands full—yes!  They really are.  And I like them that way."

I really love thinking about creating in this way--as a service to the family, as a way to support the life you lead.  I always struggle to find the balance between creating for the sake of having busy hands or closet variety, and creating in the service of adding something to the world or learning something new. 

I recently finished reading Matthew B. Crawford's first book, Shop Class as Soulcraft.  I have his next book in my stack, and am eager to read it, especially after finishing this one.  He writes about the ways in which trade work is undervalued in our current economic system, and how (the vastly more popular) knowledge work is so devoid of human agency and meaning.  

"What follows [this introduction] is an attempt to map the overlapping territories intimated by the phrases "meaningful work" and "self reliance."  Both ideals are tied to a struggle for individual agency, which I find to be at the very center of modern life....Both as workers and as consumers, we feel we move in channels that have been projected from afar by vast impersonal forces.  We worry that we are becoming stupider, and begin to wonder if getting an adequate grasp on the world, intellectually, depends on getting a handle on it in some literal and active sense." (7, emphasis in original text).

I think there is goodness in conquering a craft, in taking the time and attention to learn and learn, and learn some more, and to continually plumb the depths you do not know and still want to learn.

Writes Crawford:

"This seems to capture the kind of iterated self-criticism, in light of some ideal that is never quite attained, whereby the craftsman advances in his art.  You give it your best, learn from your mistakes, and the next time get a little closer to the image you started with in your head....Craftsmanship means dwelling on a task for a long time and going deeply into it, because you want to get it right" (13, 20).

He writes about how trade craft is something that is visceral, creative, and integrative, as well as being soul-satisfying at the end of the day:

"We want to feel that our world is intelligible, so that we can be responsible for it.  This seems to require that the provenance of our things be brought closer to home.  Many people are trying to recover a field of vision that is basically human in scale, and extricate themselves from dependence on the obscure forces of a global economy" (8).

Another point he makes is that tools are something integral to the human experience, and that to remove agency from tools (and the wielder of said tools) is to remove meaning, creativity, and to objectify or monetize everything.  He notes that so much of what we think of as "creativity" is really just "choosing", and that those choices are largely dictated to us by a bevy of marketing executives whose purpose is not to foster the creative self, but rather to make money (68).  He notes that as our society has become monetized, so too our wants and needs become disordered and chaotic, and we lose our ability to create, to have agency not only over our stuff, but over the doing in our lives.  He takes his argument a step further in his discussion of tools and technology:

"Countercultural people on the Left and Right alike complain about "the problem of technology."  The complaint usually centers on our alleged obsession with control, as though the problem were the objectification of everything by a subject who is intoxicated with power, leading to a triumph of "instrumental rationality."  But what if we are inherently instrumental, or pragmatically oriented, all the way down, and the use of tools is really fundamental to the way human being inhabit the world....If [Anaxagoras and Heidegger] are right, then the problem of technology is almost the opposite of how it is usually posed: the problem is not "instrumental rationality," it is rather that we have come to live in a world that precisely does not elicit our instrumentality, the embodied kind that is original to us.  We have too few occasions to do anything, because of a certain predetermination of things from afar" (68-69, emphasis in original text).

There is so much good in this book, I can't say enough about it.  I think his cosmology dovetails very nicely with my friend's way of making and doing.  It is what I aspire to--that the work of my hands would be in service to the life of our family, of our ethos, of our household, and that, at the end of the day, I would find it all very satisfying and soul-feeding. 

Sometimes I get in my own way, overthinking, over-analyzing everything.  And sometimes the reality is that I can't do all the things I want to do when I want to do them because the reality of modern life is one lived largely in isolation.  I think what is hard is the sense I have that what I make is optional, or just a hobby to do when the household tasks are complete.  I want to really take in this mindset that what I make is part of the tasks of the household, and that it is all integrated somehow.  There is also a kind of internal tension for me, in that I primarily make things for myself (although I am constantly fixing or repairing things for others in my family), and the making feeds me, but when I make for others, it doesn't; energy goes out rather than coming in. I do occasionally make things for others, as a favor, or the odd commission, but I can't make a habit of it because of how much it takes out of me.  I can't explain it, and wish I could.  

It is true that my children are still at an age where they demand a ton from me, at all hours of the day and night, and there are the health issues and so forth, so there isn't much going into me outside of my own (admittedly selfish) creating.  I do hope that as we all get a bit older that I will be able to better integrate my making into the needs of the household. 

All book quotes from:
Matthew B. Crawford, Shop Class as Soulcraft. New York: Penguin, 2009.