Outlander and the Human Condition

In light of everything that has happened, it seems more than a little superficial to return to the regularly scheduled light program of mundane domestic life and sewing and knitting related posts with the odd deep thought here and there.  I do know from experience, however, that we cannot hold tightly to our first grief forever, and that a new normal does eventually reassert itself.  Grief always marks a person, and loss stays with you.  I suppose some of the pain of being human is that of loss.

Interestingly enough, I do think this is one of the larger themes of the Outlander book series--that of loss, of grief, of the slow process of putting one's life back together after irreparable change and trauma.  The traumas and losses experienced by the characters stay with them, become a part of who they are, influence the choices they make and the responses they have.  I think it is also one of the reason why the books resonate with so many readers--the themes are part of the universal human experience, and there is something there that anyone can relate to.  Outlander has given language to much of my own grief about Philip's death over the years; for that alone, I'm profoundly grateful to the series.  

So far, the Starz series has proven a good, if not entirely faithful adaptation.  There are some things that simply don't translate well to the screen, and some minor changes were made for story arc or thematic reasons, but for the most part, the episodes and experiences of the books are all there, played out on the screen.  We see Claire's frantic attempts to get back to the stones, and to Frank; we see her grief at the possibility that he is lost forever; we identify with Frank's despair and anger at Claire's perceived abandonment.  We feel Claire's increasing attachment to Jamie, her accommodation to living in the past, while at the same time trying desperately to hang on to her 20th century self.  

But enough about that.   I have a sewing post that I'll put up as soon as I can get photos taken, as it was another Historical Sew Monthly Stashbusting Challenge, and I plan to participate in Spring for Cotton, so I'm sure there will be some sewing-related posts for that as well.  I've gotten some knitting done lately as well, so I have a Yarn Along post ready for Wednesday.  In short, trying to find the new normal, which will include a lot of the old normal.  

Outfit details:

18th century petticoat skirt: me-made

Ralph Lauren sweater: via ThredUp

JCrew teal blue t-shirt: via ThredUp

Capelet: knitted by me

belt: etsy

The Injustice of Death

Tomorrow morning is Fr. Matthew Baker's funeral; Boo and I are getting on a train at 5:15 a.m. to travel the long distance to be there.  I'm so grateful to be able to attend, both for myself and to be able to support Katie.  I'm also anxious about the trip, as we have some unfamiliar transitions and we will be on a train for more than 10 hours tomorrow, as we make the return trip in the afternoon.  But it is important.  Funerals are important ways of marking time, of observing ritual, of bringing a kind of closure.  One of our seminary friends observed that this week has been a kind of far-flung vigil for those of us who knew him, either slightly or very well.

The late Fr. Matthew Baker's reach was far and wide. The tributes to him as a man, as a scholar, as a thelogian, as a spiritual father and brother, as an Orthodox Christian, have continued to roll in (Fr. Stephen Damick has a nice list here).  I'm not really surprised--Fr. Matthew was ever one to stay in touch with friends far and wide, to have deep conversations anytime anywhere, never to miss the meaning in the moment. Thinking about it now, I realize he was a very present person.  

(c) Princeton Theological Seminary

Eric Jobe, an old acquaintance from our Chicago days, wrote an thoughtful response this week, and especially apt, in the light of Lent and the coming Pascha celebration. We who grieve are many, and there is a persistent sense that losing Fr. Matthew, especially at this particular juncture, is unjust, unfair, too soon. Eric points out that injustice is part of our fallen condition, but that the cross and resurrection are our hope, our redemption.

"The story of Job is an exhortation to stand firm in righteousness even if the whole world seems to come crashing down upon you, even if God seems to be an adversary (“Why, God, could you let this happen?”). The doctrine of retribution does not explain everything, but there is hope…

And what is that hope? Will everything be restored like Job? Not in this life. Sometimes I think the ending of Job is a bit cheap, because not every righteous sufferer ends up blessed like Job.

But then we see Christ who is the ultimate righteous sufferer. The ultimate unjust suffering is that the sinless, spotless Son of God should be crucified by evil doers. We see then that Job is a type and an icon of Christ, who suffers unjustly yet maintains his righteousness throughout. And like Job, the Father raises his Son from the dead thereby vindicating him and proving his righteousness. 

I think we have lost sight of this aspect of the Cross and Resurrection, that the Cross was the ultimate injustice – “My God My God, why have you forsaken me?” – but by the Resurrection, God’s righteousness was proven.

When we suffer the injustice of death, we should not try to diminish what it is – an injustice! We should not try to explain it away as being anything other than what it is – something unjust has occurred, and if God has any control over the world, then he will give an account of himself, and this he does through the Resurrection of his Son.

The Resurrection of the Son of God is a promise and a guarantee that every injustice in the world will be righted, that the unrighteous enemy that is death has been defeated, and we will see that victory completed at his second and glorious coming, when “the dead in Christ shall rise and meet him in the air.”"

~Eric Jobe, The Injustice of Death: In Memoriam of Fr. Matthew Baker, Departing Horeb blog, March 2, 2015

Many have given to the relief fund for Katie and her children, but more is needed: please consider a gift.  Fr. Matthew spent the last decade pursuing his studies, and the Baker family has sacrificed so much already to allow him to do so.  They will need our prayers and our support for many years to come--this will be a long journey, and we who grieve must walk alongside the Baker family as best we can.

Memory Eternal!

Talking Tuesday: With Broken Hearts

I'm still reeling today from the shocking news of Fr. Matthew Baker's death in terrible car accident on Sunday night.  The roads were bad and he was returning home from Vespers with their six children, ages 12-2.  Somehow, none of the children were hurt, but Fr. Matthew went on to be with the Lord.  Presvetera Katie is still grieving the loss of a stillborn 17 week baby, Alexis, and is now left with six children to raise.  My heart just hurts for all of them.  The Bakers were our neighbors at seminary, and we have many memories of times spent hanging out with their family that year, and off and on in the years since.  Katie is one my mothering heroes, and I'm so grateful to count her as friend.  Fr. Matthew was a brilliant man, a serious and thoughtful Orthodox scholar, a caring priest, and so many other things.  Fr. Stephen Damick's tribute to Fr. Matthew says everything I want to, and more, as we were all neighbors at the same time.  I think Fr. Stephen describes Fr. Matthew perfectly:

"Not only did Fr. Matthew do all his homework when it came to understanding what he was talking about on any given subject (from physics to klezmer to, yes, Patristic theology), but he somehow knew how to synthesize nearly any subjects together. We used to joke that we could say something like, “Duran Duran, GMOs, and Apollinarianism—go!” and he could come up with authentically deep links between them.

He was someone for whom the world was not a series of subjects, but a single logos."

~Fr. Stephen Andrew Damick, "We Need More Spiritual Brothers: Losing Fr. Matthew Baker" Roads From Emmaus Blog, March 2, 2015.

I confess that it all just seems unfair (and more than a little unreal).  I know that God's ways are not our ways, and it is in these times that I am forcibly reminded of this fact.  In the meantime, please consider giving to the relief fund for Katie and her family, as Fr. Matthew was their sole source of support.  I hear that someone has arranged a temporary vehicle for them, and they are staying with the local priest, who is another seminary friend, so I'm confident they are in good hands right now, but this path will be a long and hard one, and I know they will need our love and support for many years to come.

Memory eternal to Fr. Matthew Baker!

HSM #3, Stashbusting: Hannah's Hooverette

Hannah and Albert

Today's post is all about Hooverettes!  I'm calling mine Hannah's Hooverette after a friend of my mother's family--she was surrogate grandmother to my mom and her siblings in the late 1950s, and I like to think she might have worn something like this at some point. 

A while back, I decided I really wanted to make a Hooverette.  Hooverettes, for those who don't know, are simple cotton house dresses that wrapped in the front and were introduced in the years after the Great War as an easy dress to wear for housework, but nice enough to wear out to the shops for the daily errands.  This style of dress was popular from the 1920s until at least the early 1960s, although back wrap versions were introduced in the early to mid-1940s.

They mostly wrapped across the front, so that when one side was soiled, the garment could be lapped the other direction to present a clean side.  I was especially intrigued after reading Jen's post about her own Hooverette adventures, and started collecting images of them after perusing her Pinterest board about them.  There were lots of newspaper versions that included drafting instructions, and most Hooverettes are very simply constructed of two fronts and a back with facings or bias binding.

Via Pinterest

After looking at a bunch of different iterations from the early 1920s up through the mid-1930s, I decided that my Marian Martin 9257 from the early 1960s could be modified to work as a Hooverette.

The pieces were exactly the same shape as many of the newspaper drafting guides, and there were plenty of examples from the 1930s that included bias binding instead of a collar.

The main changes I made to the Marian Martin were to grade it up slightly and to omit the facings and most of the waist shaping, as the early Hooverettes appear to be fairly straight up and down (most of them have a slight a-line shape to the skirt section, but there are no waist darts as such)  I meant to draft a collar like my inspiration pattern (Pattern 2068 below) but when it came down to it, I really just wanted to get the project done.  

Well.  Let's just say, the first go-through was not a success.  I think you'll agree that it looked like a hospital gown.  I think the fabric was mostly to blame, as the bubble print got lost at a distance and washed the kelly green color out to a nice hospital scrub green.  The general shapelessness of the garment combined with the color made it look ready for the operating theatre rather than something cute for washing dishes and making beds.

I thought it looked okay from the back, though.  The undershirt didn't help matters any either.  This fabric was a cheap quilting cotton from Joann that I had in my stash from the late fall, and it just doesn't behave the way that the premium quilting cottons do.  It wrinkles terribly, and feels like it has too much sizing in it.  The weave of the fabric is close to feedsack, but unlike feedsack, which drapes nicely, it is very stiff.  I washed it a second time in vinegar to see if it would soften any, but no dice.  I'm hoping a few more vinegar washes and vigorous spin cycles might soften it up. I asked on the Historical Sew Monthly Facebook forum what I should do to fix it, and a lively discussion ensued.

I experimented a little with the ties to see if wrapping them around to the front would help.  It did, a little, but I still couldn't shake the hospital vibe.  I drafted a collar and pinned it on, and while it looked okay, I couldn't get the ends to meet in the right place. Several people suggested contrast trim so I turned back my bias facing to see how it looked.  It was an improvement, but the green-on-green bias didn't seem like enough contrast.  At this point, I nearly binned the whole project.  I put it in my donate pile and tried to move on to another project, but I really wanted to salvage the trim I'd used since bias hem facing is a little hard to come by.

I ended up removing all the trim except the hem facing, and started fresh with some vintage yellow bias from my stash, turned to the outside.  The yellow by itself looked a little blah, however, and I pondered how to add in some additional contrast.



I really like yellow, red, and green together, and it is a frequent color combination from the 1930s-1950s, but I couldn't work out how to add in a pop of red without it looking odd until I remembered I had some vintage red ric-rac in my stash.  I'm not really a ric-rac girl (I know, vintage girl heresy, gasp!), although I like it fine on other people.  I think it feels too young for me or something.

I added the ric-rac to the edge of the bias, which was the perfect little pop of red without seeming too cutesy or sweet, I think.   I think the trim saved the dress!  I also managed to use up all but 6" of the trim in my stash!  This little piece is all that is left.  Win-win.

I made some ridiculous problems for myself while trying to fix the fit of the dress (I wanted the pass-through closer to the front of the dress instead of in the side seam, as in my inspiration photo, but not only did it look bad, but I cut it while wearing the thing.  So.dumb.  I darned over the area with a zig-zag stitch and reinforced the fabric behind with an iron-on patch, so I think it will be fine.

The top ended up just being too big, so I did an 18th century fitting thing and just pinned the excess flat and sewed it down by hand.  The back is a little wonky (it could also be how I'm standing, as it looks even on the hanger), but at least there isn't tons of excess fabric everywhere.  I also pinned two princess-type lines in the front and hand-sewed them down as well.  Not perfect, but it is a house dress, after all.  It is more or less functional. 

I can't decide if the front or back wrapped ties look better.  The back wrap is looser and more comfortable, in addition to being more correct for the garment/period.

I realize that I don't really have the ideal shape for this type of dress, but I also think that there is a lot of deceptive advertising going on here as well.  Several people on the HSM forum suggested foundation garments, but honestly, this type of dress was supposed to be worn without them (there is a long history of a certain type of women's garments that are meant to be worn without foundations, to give the body a break, or allow for ease of movement during heavy work.  18th century bed jackets and Victorian/Edwardian afternoon dresses spring to mind).

Also, if you look at the sepia photo of the 1930s ladies above, many of them are shaped just like me.  I think the garment isn't meant to be that flattering, actually.  It is a work dress, plain and simple.  I would also like to point out, for the record, that Mrs. Macguire, Sidney's housekeeper on Grantchester, is frequently to be found in a Hooverette, and she is definitely shaped a lot more like me than like those long slim pencils on the Sears-Roebuck advert!

That said, it is fairly comfortable, and I won't mind wearing it during the heat of summer or when my GI system acts up and nothing fits well around my middle.  I do think that wrapping the ties around to the front looks a bit better on me even if it isn't quite right for the period.

The Challenge: Stashbusting!

What is it? A Hooverette

Fabric: Green 1930s style quilting cotton

Pattern: Marian Martin 9257

Year: 1930-32

Notions: 5 yards vintage yellow bias tape,  about 4 yards vintage red ric-rac, about 2 1/2 yards kelly green hem facing

How historically accurate is it? 8/10  The shape of the dress is correct, the trim is period appropriate.  (Ric-rac was in use from the late 19th century, although I'm a little unclear when it became common on clothing--it was certainly in use on clothing by the early 1940s, and this style of dress persisted well into the 1950s)  The fabric is so-so.  It is cotton, which is appropriate, and the pattern is similar to 1930s cottons I've seen, but the hand/drape is off.

Hours to complete: about 7 (although it would have been more like four if I'd trimmed it in contrast the first time--I spent about four hours removing trim and reattaching it again).

First worn:  I wore the first version for a few hours one frigid day in early February, decided it was a disaster to look at and that it was too cold for a thin cotton dress; I wore the final version for photos at the end of February 2015

Total cost: $16.17 for the fabric (Creating New Traditions Dot Green), thread from the stash ($2.00), ~$5 for trim?  I usually buy vintage trim in destash lots on etsy and ebay, so I really don't know.  Pattern was in the stash but cost around $10 on ebay when I did buy it.

7QT: Around the House

Wow, it has been a long time since I did these!  So long, in fact, that I think I've not done one since Kelly started hosting them over at This Ain't The Lyceum.  (She is hilarious, by the way; I highly recommend reading her blog--her photos are epic)  

--1--

I could write about how Lent is going, but I think the less said about personal struggles in this direction, the better.  What I will say is that my particular discipline this year has been good for the noise in my head and the unrest in my spirit.

--2--

Some Lenten listening: I've always love Attend, O Heaven by the St. Seraphim Orthodox Choir.  It is one of the very few recordings in English of nearly all Lenten music (there are one or two tracks of Paschal tunes at the end, but they are easily skipped over).  I find that so many English-language collections of seasonal Orthodox music are either geared for Holy week (Thy Passion by the Boston Byzantine Choir comes to mind) or have so much Paschal music included that it is hard to find enough to listen to that is truly Lenten.  

I also have some Western sacred music recordings that I like during this season--the Tavener is technically Orthodox, being his take on the Lamentations service of Holy Week.  It is a beautiful rendition, but uniquely Tavener.  

I really like Grechaninov's Seven Days of Passion but again, better suited for Holy Week listening.  I also have several CDs of Slavonic music for the season that are nice, but sometimes it is nice to hear the hymns in English.  The little CD at the bottom of the photo ("Chants of Great Lent") is another very nice Slavonic recording of Russian nuns singing various hymns of the Lenten season.  I found this recording from the Kiev Caves while looking for a link for another recording and it is quite nice as well.

On Pandora, the Russian Orthodox Chant station is pretty decent, as is the Thomas Tallis station.  I like them for general listening, but they are especially nice at this time of year.

--4--

Via

Speaking of Russia, I find myself missing the Motherland a lot lately.  I guess because Putin is in the news all the time lately, I'm reminded of certain aspects my life there, and all the things I miss.  There are things I don't miss, and many things I regret not doing while I was there--mostly relationships that I didn't foster as well as I could have, and I didn't learn as much language as I should have.  I do still catch myself thinking in Russian occasionally, and am eager to take up language study again. Unfortunately, my fatigue levels make memorization difficult right now.  

--5--

On a completely different note, shortly before Lent started, I bought an oilcloth for our kitchen/dining table.  I've been looking for one for ages, and Mat. Anna put me on to the ones from Vermont Country Store. I picked the red gingham and am pretty pleased with it.  I do not love the off-gassing that it has been doing since I put it on the table, but I think that will dissipate with time. It really perks up my blue kitchen!  I've been slowly introducing red accents to the blue this past year and I like the contrast.

--6--

I also got around to framing the baby photo series of the kids.

When each child was about 3 months old, we had studio photographs taken at Sears or Penney's, and after Piglet, we tried to replicate a photo of each of them on their stomachs wearing a diaper cover.  

I saved the wallets and put them in a frame all together, and I'm quite pleased with the result.  Each photo reminds of different things about that stage--I can see how unhealthy and developmentally delayed Birdie was in her photo (she is struggling to hold her head up and steady and she is kind of peaky).

I hung it up on a wall at the top of the first floor stairwell that has been bare since the previous picture fell off and broke apart several years ago.

Original artwork by Audrey Eclectic

Also new on my walls is an Audrey Electic print--I forget who first blogged about her work (Jamie, probably) but I fell in love with all her prints.  I saved a bunch of them to my favorites and knew I wanted to purchase one, but couldn't decide which one to get.  I finally decided on this Madonna earlier this month and it is hanging up in the office/guest room now above my craft desk--it is just perfect (and much better than the Egyptian funeral portraits that have been hanging there for the past seven years)

--7--

Piglet counting on fingers--he comes by that honestly!  Many members of my family (including Piglet's namesake and my grandfather) counted on fingers for math problems.  My math whiz husband can't understand it.

Ponchik is really attached to this doll that my mom gave her in the fall--it has the highly original name of "Doll" (to distinguish it from the Cabbage Patch doll that she calls "Baby") but yesterday morning, she informed me that his name was in fact, Jack.

That's it for me!  Go see the other Takers of Quick at Kelly's!

Dressing Downton Abbey

It's been a while since I did a specific post on Dressing Downtown Abbey--I did a few last winter, but they were mostly late 1910s outfits from season three.  

Season five puts us in 1925, and while it isn't my first choice for favorite fashion period, I do like some things.  My 1920s love really tops out in about 1923, as that is about the end of the late 1910s-trends and hem lines go up and waist lines drop down dramatically.  It isn't a particularly flattering silhouette on me, given my waist-to-hip ratio, which at the moment is whopping 11".

But my hair cooperated in a most 1920s fashion today, and I decided my outfit needed to match.  The dress is this one from eshakti that I've shown here before, but the long lines of the sweater and necklace "cheat" the silhouette a bit to bring it more into the 1920s. 

As much as I'm a fan of showing what I actually wear every day, I put these shoes on for the photos because that's what I would be wearing if our streets and sidewalks weren't a complete ice-skating rink since the storm this past weekend.  I nearly broke my neck just trying to get these photos taken in these shoes--they have good soles and decent traction, but there really isn't any substitute for heavy flat boots in this weather.  I've been wearing my fur-lined boots pretty much non-stop.

My hair ornaments are from Mat. Anna at Cozy House Curios.  I had a small crocheted flower from a Stampin' Up! embellishment kit that I made into a hair clip a long time ago, and I liked it so much that I commissioned Mat. Anna to make me a few more in neutral colors.  I finally got around to attaching them to clips this morning and I went to town.  I really like them and highly recommend her work.  (She is a friend and a frequent commenter on this blog.  She did not ask me to review these hair ornaments, but I love them so much I wanted to give her some blog love!)

My awesome 1920s style necklace--a random etsy find last winter.

More hair clip shots--I'm really quite pleased with the shape of my hair today--I didn't really do anything to it after showering except to comb it with a fine-tooth comb, fluff up the curls and then start pinning.  The advantage of curly hair, I guess!  No need for marcel clips (although I do have some)  I spend so much time being generally frustrated with my hair that it is nice to have a few good days here and there.

It is surprisingly hard to get a good back shot of one's own hair.

The two front clips, in detail.

One of the back clips--I couldn't get a good shot of the other one, but it is similar to this one, just a little smaller.

It being the first week of Great Lent, my GI system has decided to go crazy, so this outfit was just the thing for today.

Outfit details:

Dress: eshakti

Sweater: Merona from Target

Necklace: etsy

Earrings: etsy

hair flowers: Cozy House Curios

Shoes: Portlandia

Tights: Heather Mocha from Foot Traffic via Sock Dreams

Yarn Along: WIPs

As per usual, I'm working on three things at once, and reading about four books at the same time.  I'm still rambling through Anne Hollander's excellent Seeing Through Clothes in addition to the below tomes.

I'm finally getting around to reknitting the soft-shoulder cowl that I made in November and frogged after wearing a few times.  I made a few mistakes on the steeks, and it was too long in the neck and a little too narrow in the shoulders and it just bugged me.  So I frogged it and set it aside.  I'm back at it with some modifications to fix the sizing issues.  I also started reading The Ascetic Lives of Mothers as part of my Lenten reading.  It is good, easy to pick up and put down, and very profound.  I'm trying to take it in small bits so I can really let it seep into me.

The 1918 pullover seater is coming along--the garter stitch is very mindless, and I'm curious about the construction of it, as it is done from hem to hem, with no shoulder seams.  I'm also making progress with Judith Flanders' The Making of Home.  As predicted, I'm completely fascinated.  Finally, a book that really gets at so much of my academic interest in domestic life and the sociology of house and home.  I'm eager to see where it goes.

I finished the striped hat, but it came out much too big, and as it was superwash wool, there was no chance of making it smaller.  (I'm not sure what went wrong--I got gauge, and I do have a big head, so I knitted the largest size, which should have been an inch of negative ease, but I ended up with about 6" of positive ease.  Not really going for the Rasta look, thankyouverymuch.  I frogged it and will give it another go when I finish the cowl.  I bought the Nicholas Carr book for my husband as a namesday gift and he just finished it, so I'm going to read it next.  We both loved his earlier book, The Shallows, and I'm eager to see what he has to say in this one.

Linking with Ginny for Yarn Along.