Day Seven

Day Seven was productive. It saw Amena's dress as complete as possible (I need hooks and eyes and red seam binding and I'm making the belts when the dresses are done because I need black interfacing for them) and hanging in her closet. Laura's dress saw much progress and could quite possibly be done sans the belt by the end of today. I also would like to have Katie's pattern done by the end of today.

I like to draw the sewing lines on the side I'll be sewing--makes it easier for my visual brain.

It does look different. Lots of sputum; probably good you can't really see it.

We will see how that goes as I think I finally figured out that I have bronchitis. All the symptoms fit and guess what I should be doing to combat it? Rest and reduce stress. Yeah. You can probably guess how that's going to go over.

On the mannequin at end of day. It really was end of day. After 11:00. So why the heck am I up now? It's 5:59 and I've been up for more than half an hour.

Up close on the inside of the lining. Good thing it's the lining, eh? That right side (left in the picture) looks like I did a terrible job with the iron.

Speaking on the iron, I need to go wake it up so I can use it and get to work. Joanna and I are going shopping for the rest of the necessary items for finishing up these dresses and getting hers going. I guess I shouldn't stress too much, really. We do have two and a half weeks and barring any unusual circumstances. Knock on wood. 

Day Six

Finally made it to Day Six and about time. In spite of feeling like proverbial crap, much was accomplished. 

This is Amena's dress. It only needs three things. Can you guess what they are?

I had Amena try the dress on before I set the sleeves and, wouldn't you know it, it needed some adjusting. I wasn't going to do it last night because I was so tired and feeling a bit loopy but I went ahead and it turned out alright. The sleeves were amazing. The first one was almost perfect--I only had to snip a couple of stitches because I'd started sewing with the dress on top and decided it would work better with the sleeve on top. Where the stitches joined there was a little bubble. There was another minor catch that required the snipping of two stitches and sewing a couple dozen. I was almost afraid to do the second sleeve but it turned out even better--I didn't have to do anything to it other than admire it.

I don't know why I like pictures like this. They're just cool. What will it look like at the end of Day Seven? Only time will tell. Like about thirteen or fourteen hours.

By the way, huge thanks to Margaret Armstrong for the loan of the dressmakers dummy.

Days Four and Five

I am sorry to say that I have no picture from Day Four. I am also sorry to report that there were so many days of no sewing between Day Three and Day Four and again between Day Four and Day Five. At least there will be no no sewing days between Day Five and Day Six.

This is a pile of pieces of dress all marked and pinned and ready to sew darts. As soon as a couple of boys get their work done, the table will transform from school to sewing.

Day Three

Day three was not very impressive. I knew I had to do SOMEthing so I did start transferring marks. What a fun chore (read that in monotone). There are entirely too many darts for this pattern so my thinking it would be a breeze considering each dress has only ten pieces (that's including the lining but not the belt) has changed. Once it's marked and the darts are sewn, it'll be a breeze. Not that darts are hard, mind you, just time consuming.

Got to take the pattern off and then put it back on one piece at a time. Yes, I know there are other ways to do this but this is the way I do it and if it takes more time, it yields consistently good results which is why I do it this way. So there. Notice the chunk out of the side of the pattern. I swear they make tissue paper thinner than they used to.

Sometimes I use a pencil but since this isn't going to be washed and a pencil didn't really work, thread it is!

That's white thread I used, by the way. The red just kind of soaked in.

And that's all she wrote. I didn't even get Laura's dress completely marked. Today should be better.

Dresses for Joanna's Wedding, Day 2

Time to get busy making dresses for Joanna and Lincoln's wedding. It is October 10th which means I've basically got five weeks to make three bridesmaid dresses and Joanna's dress. Not impossible by any means but no time to dilly dally, either. This is what day two looked like in part:

Lots of red. And have to have something going on the laptop. 80's pop on Pandora for yesterday. Interestingly, lots of Billy Idol kept playing so we had White Wedding and Dancing with Myself which were both appropriate I thought.

Laura's had to be lengthened and Amena's shortened. Actually, I had to take a quarter inch from Laura's above the waist and add two inches below. I had to take half an inch from Amena's above the waist and one inch below.

Just FYI, day one included altering the pattern for Laura's dress. Day two included altering the pattern for Amena's dress as well as cutting out both minus the black belt.

The Dress (I hope I haven't overused this for a title)

Working on the loops here. I needed a foundation for the buttonhole stitch I planned to use and I needed it all to be well anchored. What I did was take a double strand of a mediumish crochet thread and worked my way from left to right, taking two stitches every inch. That worked pretty well.

Then I worked right to left doing a buttonhole stitch along the entire length--it was something like twenty-one inches from top to bottom. I finally figured out how to make it look really good on the last six inches. :) Of the second side.

One side done, one side pinned so I know where to make the anchoring stitches.

Working on the hem here. Many times around, it was. Once to pin, once to baste, once to cut, once to sew the hem lace, once to actually sew the hem. And that is not counting the time or two or three with the iron.

All finished! Aren't they loverly? I wish I'd have gotten some up close of the back and the lace at the bottom of the bodice but once I see all the pictures taken, perhaps I'll find something. All-in-all, I am quite pleased with the end result.

This is mostly hand and skirt but you can see some of the lace at the bottom of the bodice. It is lovely lace--I really like it. Laura really wanted it up above the seam; I think I'd rather have covered it. Still, it's all good.

The back. I just absolutely love this. Honestly I could not keep my eyes off this girl.

And this picture I just love. These two are great! I think I'll keep both of them.

Daughters of the Moon Sisters of the Sun:

Young Women & Mentors on the Transition to Womanhood

by K. Wind Hughes & Linda Wolf

What an interesting book. What diverse backgrounds these girls came from. It almost makes my life look like a walk through the park. Almost.

There was a time when I wished more than anything that I’d been born Native American. I remember the secretary of the school coming in to each classroom at the beginning of each year asking if anyone was part and I so wanted to raise my hand. Now, I do not remember if anyone ever did. Then, when I was about 10, my maternal grandfather learned that his mother was actually part Indian. She said eventually that it was Cherokee (which is what everyone says). The reason she put forth as to why she wouldn’t admit to that or the fact that she had any Native American blood because she and her family lived up and down the California coast from San Francisco to around Arcata (my grandfather attended something like 17 schools before graduating from high school) and part of this time was spent amongst the Hupa Indians who, according to her, might have become hateful if they’d known she was Cherokee. Whether or not it was actually Cherokee blood running in her veins, we do not know, but her father looked as if he might have been (although it was supposed to be his wife who was). Whatever blood it was, it would have originated in the eastern part of the US sometime in the mid-1800’s. I was happy just knowing that one sixty-fourth of me might be Native American. It didn’t change anything about me, but it made me feel good.

Now, having lived for a few years in New Mexico in close proximity with some Navajos, I am glad that I am who I am because I now understand that we all have our own trials, our own strengths, our own weaknesses. We are each an individual and this is a good thing.

I’m actually having a difficult time writing about this book because there are so many ways to respond to it. I think that an overall theme is that girls need to know that they are loved and cared for and respected and that they matter, not that they are just objects sometimes to be looked at, admired for our apparent beauty, used, or abused.

One of the experiences from New Mexico that really sticks in my mind is when a Navajo friend and I happened to be driving by a laundromat. A Navajo woman was lugging a basket or two of laundry out to the car and her man was sitting in the car taking a nap. My friend joked that Native women are tough—they can do anything. While I would agree, I would add that all women are tough and can do anything if they just set their minds to it. Being tough and doing everything takes its toll on us—those Navajo women are tough and they can do anything. The trouble is that many of them, especially those forced to do everything because they are with a man who will do nothing, look old far before their time. Some women who were my age looked twice as old and I find that incredibly sad. They not only had to do everything, they were often beaten for doing it simply because their men had nothing to do but drink and abuse their women. That is no way to live for the women or the men or the children who grow up with nothing but this example and thus perpetuate the cycle. In fairness, there were many Navajo men who were wonderful husbands and fathers as well (and their wives didn’t look twice as old as they were).

I really like how Tasha Flournoy (page 151) began her section: “I don’t see myself as black or African American. I see myself as a human being.” My oldest daughter is half Mexican and her children are half Korean. One of my favorite cousins is half black. In my mind, diversity is beautiful. If we were all the same, it would be a very dull world. However, we need to sometimes overlook some of our differences and focus on what we have in common.

Ultimately, while I do not agree with all the views expressed in this book, I do appreciate the honesty with which each of the contributors responded. Growing up seems to be fraught with difficulties and challenges no matter who or where or when we are. An open and honest communication would perhaps make a difference in the lives of some and if it made the difference in enough lives, then perhaps we would finally begin to see a difference globally.