My Semi-Regular, Mostly-Every-Month Podcast with The Fabulous Jill Berry

You never know exactly what you'll get with someone when you call them up for a podcast. Oh, sure: there are the people I already know, people I've talked to before. Then I have a pretty good idea that they'll be interesting and entertaining. Other times, though? Sometimes I just wade in blind and hope for the best. With Jill, it's always easy, and I know I don't have to work too hard: I know I can just ask her what she's working on now and then sit back and let her take me on some fabulous adventure. She's never, ever boring, and she's always up to something new. (I think living in the same house with her would be exhausting, but it would be fabulously fascinating, too). This month she's preparing a new workshop where she's going to teach students to copy other artists.

Yep, that's what I said, too.

Click on the player below to find out what she's thinking here, and then go here to see her new-and-improved website and find out more about that fabulous give-away she mentions. Yowza!

What We're Reading

I'll go first, OK? And then y'all~~

Last time I mentioned 11/22/63, by Stephen King

 I read it, and I enjoyed it, and I finished it--quite amazing, actually, given how long it usually takes me to read something and the fact that this baby weighs in at 849 pages (because you know I read the afterword, too). As Chris said, it got pretty wonky in the middle, as if King wasn't sure which way he wanted to turn and was having trouble straddling the line: romance? Historical fiction? Mystery? Hard to reconcile Jimla and George de Mohrenschildt, you know? They could both have been left out, with the focus on the romance and the assassination, but I know the bits about de Mohrenschildt were included because 1) they lend verisimilitude and 2) King did a ton of research (a stack of volumes as tall as he is, I think he said), and if you do that much research, by golly, you're going to figure out a way to get as much of it in as possible. [Take it from someone who hates research and has done a ton of it: if you do it, it's going in there somewhere even if you know it shouldn't. You have to resist the compelling, gritting-your-teeth urge to cram it in.]


Anyway, I liked the book and read way more every night than I usually do, staying up until 1:30 to get in another short chapter or two. Many years ago I read everything I could get my hands on about the Kennedy assassination, including the Warren Report, so I'm kind of a geek.

I did gritch at King for misspelling Killeen. One might argue that he was making up the names of towns, but he didn't change Midland or Odessa, Dallas or Ft. Worth, so why would he change one letter in Killeen? Grrrr. Drove me nuts, as you might guess. But he tells a good story, and the ending wasn't what I had guessed it would be--about 2/3 of the way through, I was sure I knew what was going to happen. I was wrong, and that was delightful.

 Then there's Advanced Style, Ari Seth Cohen's book titled after his popular blog. I've podcasted with Ari and with Debra Rappoport, and I was eagerly awaiting the release of this book. I even pre-ordered, which I hardly ever do.

I'm not going to say much about this book because I really do believe that if you can't say something nice, you should just be quiet. I was disappointed. Many of the photos I'd seen before. There isn't much descriptive or explanatory text. Most of the people aren't identified at all--no name, no caption, nothing. The point of it all is that seniors can be stylish, and so age is something that's an integral part of the work. Because of that, you'd like to know how old these people are, mostly so you can marvel and say, "My god, I hope *I* look like that at 102!"  That was included only in the few people who got some text. Apparently there's also a documentary film being made, but they have to raise money to do that, and so every morning I'm getting an email wanting me to watch the trailer and donate.

I so wanted to love this book. I'll keep it just as reference, but--well, never mind.

 Then there's this one, Some Assembly Required, by Anne Lamott, and it's another huge disappointment. When I first read Operating Instructions, I was hooked. I loved it, I read it again, I bought the book and read it again. I laughed out loud at Lamott. Over the years, I've used my favorite lines from that book: "she could suck a bowling ball through a garden hose," and "when Jesus left Chicago." I bought Bird by Bird and loved that. I found her fiction unreadable, but that's just me. Then Traveling Mercies, Plan B, and Grace came out, and I heaved the big sigh. With the first two books, you had the We're All So Damaged and Only Jesus Can Help Us, but I was willing to give those parts a pass because she was witty and laugh-out-loud funny and insightful and just a really good writer. But with those, it was as if her agent and publisher licked their index fingers and stuck them up in the air to see which way the wind was blowing and came down on the side not of quirky wit but of deep damage and religious fervor.

And right here I cut out the snarky parts where I vented my spleen and pointed out the part of the book where I said, sitting in bed, "Oh, come on. Give me a huge break here, people."

We'll leave it at that.

Then here's Moe checking out the books that are up next. Most I've ordered as research stuff, but the one on the far left, Precious Objects: A Story of Diamonds, Family and a Way of Life, and the one on the right, Thinking Fast and Slow, seemed promising. The former captured me when I read the first couple pages--some books I pick up just because of the writing, and the latter, it seems, was one I'd read about in the NYT review of books.

I've got another big stack beside the bed, but they're not up for a while, so I'll stop and let y'all share what you're reading. Good, bad, interesting--we want to hear!

XO

Podcast with Becki Smith

I love talking to Becki. Not only is she way cool, but she makes me feel sane: knowing that the gritches I have about living in this town in the West Texas Desert are not just about me but are, in fact, shared by other people who don't quite fit in? Pricless, indeed.

You may have seen these photos before, posted when The EGE and I visited Becki's new studio in 2007. I love them--I'd love to post every one he took so you could have the experience of visiting this amazing place and seeing more of Becki's work. Those are some of her paintings on the wall behind her head:

Did I mention cool? I love the way she dresses (Keens, lots of linen), I love her art,

her studio,

 her vast and amazing collection of Stuff. Oh, my.

 This totally creeped me out, so you know I adore it.

 One of the color drawers. Black.

 Another color drawer: blue.

Do you know what this is?

This conversation did, indeed, feed my soul. Hearing her talk about things nobody else ever talks about was like a balm for me. If you live in a place like Midland/Odessa, and you love your house and, like me, couldn't ever afford one like it anywhere else in the country, what are you going to do? If you're Becki, you find a way to make an oasis for yourself, a place that nourishes your creative spirit and provides you with the atmosphere and energy you need to make what you make. I hope you enjoy our conversation as much as I did. I keep listening to it, nodding, going, "Ahhhhh." 

Here's her website where you can see more of her work. 

Thanks, Becki!  XO

Decon Over Coffee

Instead of stitching this morning, I did this:

I sat out on the porch with coffee and some new sharp scissors, enjoying the morning before it hits 105 this afternoon, and deconstructed all the navy, brown, and tan t-shirts. Also one funky gold one. This is really exciting because I've got the raw material for whatever I want to try next. Another skirt, I think. As soon as I take a walk, call in for a meeting, do a podcast, start editing the audio, get another draft written, and get the overdue library books back before I have to pay a fine, I can do whatever I want.

Meaning: tomorrow, probably.

More Tweaking

Obsessions tend to take a lot of time, and the bad thing about that is that I don't have tons of finished projects to show y'all. What I do have is the green-and-turquoise fitted top, now with some beads (bugle beads on the turquoise waves). I'm wearing it to see if I like it well enough to keep beading. I think so. While it's a couple of incarnations ago--before the NYC version--it's amazingly comfortable, and that's always a good thing. The top is too full in front at the bottom, and so it folds over on itself. I'm working on that--I hope the tunic I'm making from this same pattern has that issue resolved--I should know tomorrow.

 

With it I'm wearing a skirt I made today out of four t-shirts. I made a skirt when the first Alabama Chanin book came out in 2008, and then I didn't do anything else with it until now. That skirt has always been too big, and so now that I've taught myself how to do the Cretan stitch (buying a better embroidery book and then translating it from right-handed instructions to left-handed), I added elastic to the waist to make it stay up. And then today I made this skirt with the skirt pattern from the new book, marveling on the changes in size (the size charts have changed some). I think I like it--it's very comfortable. I had to take the waist up some with elastic--these skirts look small when you're sewing them, and so you make the seam allowances smaller and try to give yourself more room and then, when you're finished, you realize it's too big. I think I'll go down half a size for the next skirt, but this one is definitely wearable. I get The EGE to take photos so I can see better what I need to do next. This last photo was to show how much movement I have and to check the length. I think it needs to be about half an inch shorter--I like skirts to fall right at the bottom of my knee or go all the way to the floor.

I like the idea of having parts of the t-shirts showing:

I think it's a t-shirt from a dove hunt. Shudder. I had four large t's in this color--with some slight variation--and so thought I'd go with this. Next time I'll actually plan the placement of the logo, if there is one and will think about color blocking, maybe. I'm still trying to see what's possible with recycled t-shirts but can't get really creative until I get the master patterns.

Tweaking

I wrote a post with the same title--"Tweaking"--over at CreateMixedMedia.com this week. This isn't the same post; this is about my own adventures in tweaking, but you might want to read that one first. Or not. They don't have much to do with each other except they're about my current thought obsession (as opposed to my other, main obsession: creating this wardrobe by hand).

So. Where I am with this right now: trying to create one master pattern for each garment I want to make in multiples. There are some things in which I have no interest--the hat, the t-shirt, regular tank tops--most of the tops, in fact. I don't need those. I have approximately 1 gazillion tanks tops (maybe 50? hard to count that high) in every possible color, and about the same number of t-shirts in varying sleeve lengths. Let's be honest: I do not even want to know how many cotton jersey shirts I have if you include everything from tanks to long-sleeved t's. Some I dyed, some I bought in colors I liked. When they're on sale, I fill in the gaps so I have multiples in the colors I wear all the time. In the summer, these tanks are my staple. And, yeah, I know I'm supposed to be thinking about covering my upper arms because it's what other women my age talk about all the time, and no, my arms aren't any different from theirs. But you know, I don't give a crap about that, and here's why, a story I've told before: We had a friend years and years ago who taught math. She was gorgeous and elegant, a very fashionable dresser (think lovely high-end linen sheaths with pearls and high-heeled sandals). She was telling us about standing at the chalkboard one late-spring day, explaining a math problem to her students and looking down and noticing the flesh of her upper arm moving as her hand moved across the board and becoming entranced--and horrified--as she watched it and then looking up and noticing all her 9th-grade students watching her watch her arm and become horrified themselves. And she said that was the last time she ever wore anything sleeveless. We laughed. A couple years later she died of ovarian cancer. I don't think she was even 40 yet. And I think about how silly it is for us to worry about sagging upper arms and to avoid wearing things we like because of it in a life that's way, way too short for those kinds of worries.

But. The issue with tank tops is that while I'm fine at home and outdoors, if I go into Starbucks or the grocery store or anywhere else where *I* don't set the temperature? I totally freeze. I know other people like it colder than I do--way, way colder--but it seems so silly to keep huge stores set at 65 in the summer in West Texas, where it's often over 100 degrees and even 75 would feel refreshingly cool by comparison. But no. So I carry some kind of sweater or wrap with me everywhere. The EGE freezes, too--one more reason we get on so well--and there are always a couple of sweatshirts in the back of the SUV.

So: all this to say that one of the things I want to make in many, many multiples is the bolero, which Alabama Chanin sells for $265 in its plain, unembellished form. That will be another post, though, as this is about tweaking another pattern.

While I have tons  of tanks, I want something longer, tunic length, that fits loose at the bottom. You may remember that I started out with the Alabama Chanin basic t-shirt, with no sleeves.

 I changed the pattern some because I don't like necklines near my throat. I don't remember what else I did to it, but I tweaked it a little.

 What I failed to do, as you may remember, was check the size. I made it in a medium, and it was so snug I couldn't even get it on Ricë. So I cut it up and front and back and added a center panel. Now it fits, but it's dorky and shapeless, and I doubt I'll ever wear it.

 Look at that. That's just hideously unattractive. Bleah. I can't believe I even finished it--but of course I did, as this was all an experiment to figure out where to go next.

 For the next attempt, I used the fitted top pattern, the one you can make in any length from a tank top to a floor-length dress. I like the center seam and the lower neck, but I raised the neckline a little. Not enough, alas. This is how it turned out. It's so low in the front that there's no way your bra is not going to show. Plus the pattern, which the book says is designed to "give your bust a boost" or something like that, is just weird. I don't know how it's supposed to boost your bust. All it does on me is gap open at the center, and the neckline is so wide the straps won't stay on my shoulders. To make the neckline not pucker, the straps need to be pulled out another inch to the sides, but Ricë and I are not made that way. I have broad shoulders, but I am not a fullback for any major football team. Nor do I play one on tv.

 So tacky.

 Please.

 But I love it with the first bolero (more about that later):

So what I do is turn it around backwards and wear it that way: the back neckline is higher than in the front, and there's not that supposedly-bust-boosting extra fabric, and this works--although the armholes are still wonky and stick out in an odd way.

So much nicer, yes?

On the next one I trimmed the center seam to remove the part that's supposed to "boost the bust" and trimmed the pattern under the arms, as well.  Much better, but still a little bagginess in the center front.

 See where it wrinkles right there?

 I haven't stitched the bottom trim in place--I plan to stitch and bead that part but wanted to keep tweaking the pattern and get that right before I stopped and started doing more handwork.

 More tweaking before I made this last one, which I just finished this morning. It was made from a NY something (Yankees or something-else-I-can't-remember; The EGE keeps telling me and I keep forgetting. All I know is the Yankees) t-shirt. I wanted to see if I could incorporate the logo into some design, and this is what I did:

 The dark blue t-shirt is thick and soft, and the black t-shirt was average. I hate thin t-shirts. I think they're tacky, like cheap nylon or something. I'm learning as I collect the shirts from Goodwill. Some will go back, now that I've started working with them and can really tell the difference in quality.

 It hangs a lot better when I'm wearing it over jeans. Ricë, alas, has no legs.

I loved this project even though I got stumped for almost a week trying to decide what to do with the bottom. After I got the skyline sewn in place, I had several ideas:
1) Add beads for the windows. I thought about black bugle beads, which would look like windows at night, or deep yellowish-gold bugles for lighted windows, maybe making some gold and some black. Or ever clear or white ones. The problem with this idea--and the reason I ultimately rejected it--is that it would require spacing and much tedious placement, possibly measuring and/or counting. And as you know, I don't go there. I could see myself becoming more and more obsessed about the placement of the "windows" until I drove myself nuts. It would look fabulous, but it just wasn't worth it.

2) Then I thought about creating the rivers along the bottom with black and/or gunmetal bugle beads and dark stitching for slight waves. That didn't seem to go with the graphic stitching around the edges of the buildings, though--it seemed to be a whole other mood. It would have provided a nice weight to the bottom, though.

3) Stitching text all around the bottom--maybe the story of our trip to Manhattan and the book signing and wandering around the city for three days with Wendy. Maybe just words--I could get The EGE to help me come up with a bunch of evocative words. This would be time-consuming, though, and I haven't yet perfected a way of transferring marks to cotton jersey. Pencils stretch it. I trace patterns with thin bars of soap (thanks, y'all, for that idea!). But lots of words? On black jersey? Eh. And since I haven't actually even WORN the top yet, I don't want to spend hours and hours more on it. It may not actually be perfect after all, and so I'll wait.

But I loved making this because I can see that I'm getting closer to where I want to go. Someone mentioned last week that the Alabama Chanin style is just about appliqué and stencils and beads, and that's true for the AC style. While I love some of the really heavily embellished pieces and hope to make similar ones of my own at some point, that's not really what my project is about. I don't want an Alabama Chanin wardrobe, where people could look at it and go, "Oh, you're wearing Alabama Chanin!" What's appealing to me about this--what's got me obsessed--isn't about doing things the way they do them; it's about taking the technique--stitching cotton jersey entirely by hand--and seeing where I can go. Images. Graphic designs. Color. Text. Journal garments. The ability to do that on really sturdy comfortable garments--as opposed to denim, which doesn't give, or linen, which is good but won't make a comfortable top (I don't like shirts; I like knit tops that don't bind across my shoulders)--is completely entrancing. And to do it with recycled t-shirts and to show people that you can do that and make fabulous things you love? Well.

Yesterday I tweaked the pattern one more time--a tiny bit more fullness across the chest, nip in a little at the waist, flare out more at the hips--when I wore the red one to dinner with friends, she said the thing she liked best about it was that it had a shape, unlike most tank tops, and I thought about that and realized that's what makes it worth making more of; otherwise, if I wanted something shapeless, I could just wear the tanks I have already. And I made it from a XXX-large t-shirt to get it as long as possible. I'm getting to the point where I'm going to have to buy some yardage. I can piece recycled t-shirts together to make knee-length dresses, and I plan to do that eventually, but I don't want to go to that much effort while I'm still trying to get all the proportions right. I don't want to do a ton of work until I'm sure it fits the way I want it to with no pulling or gapping. On these longer tops, I don't want them to hang straight down because then they'll constrict my movement and they'll be shapeless, like that first one up there. On the other hand, I don't want a huge bell-shaped flare, either. And because I have no real sewing background, it's impossible for me to look at a pattern and know how it will fit. Plus I've discovered that the photos of a garment in the Alabama Chanin books are no guarantee, either. The models are models, after all. They have no real shape (and no bras that need to be covered by shirts, either). And the pieces in the book are not exactly like the patterns, if you look closely. The armholes have other treatments, some pieces have more seams. Creating a perfect master pattern is, indeed, an adventure. And one problem is that, with each incarnation, I get further and further away from the pattern provided in the book, meaning that if I lose the last pattern I made, I have no idea what tweaks I did to get there. Yikes. I've taken to numbering the patterns and saving them all for reference. When I get The Perfect Pattern, I can toss all the others and go from there.

So that's what I've been up to over here. And although this post isn't about My Bolero Adventure, I'll show you one photo (OK, two) of the second one I've made. The first one, the red one up above, is still being embellished. I love it, and so this second one is a little more complex. So far it's stenciled and has reverse appliqué. Today I'm going to add some regular appliqué, and then I'm going to begin stitching and beading. I know it could stay like it is, but I'm not of the Less is More School; I'm of the More is Never Enough School, and I'm happy there.

So I've got this to work on this weekend, plus I'm appliquéing a bunch of The EGE's t-shirts--that's a whole nother post--and I've got another bolero cut out and ready to start, the longer fitted top ditto, the sea green and turquoise one to stitch, the purple poncho with all the x's to stitch, the pink-and-fuchsia poncho to stitch--and I want to cut out at least one more thing to work on. Yikes.

Did I say obsessed?

I hope all y'all have something equally as compelling to work on this weekend--there's really nothing better. Sitting on the front porch with The EGE, stitching while he reads the paper and we talk and watch the birds? Pretty much as good as it gets~~

Thanks for coming by~~
XO

And Here Are Our Winners for The Week

Thank you to everyone who participated by leaving comments. I wish I had enough to send one of each to everyone, just because you're all wonderful and deserve a treat. Alas, I have just one of each, and here are the people who win them. Now, there's a caveat, something I've learned the hard way: if you live outside the US and I pick you, I'm going to ask that you send me a SASE. I hate to do that, but it's the only way I'm going to send things internationally. There's no media rate--the reduced rate I use to send books and CDs and DVDs here in the US--for foreign postage. Plus I hate filling out the customs forms and the shipping label and all that stuff. It makes the trip to the PO even less fun than it is already (I have come to loathe trips to the post office, but it's OK because I go only every couple months). If that doesn't work for you, just let me know, and I'll pick someone else.

OK. The first winner of Patricia Mosca's book, Permissions Slips for Your Heart and Soul, is Julie. She said she knew someone to whom she wants to give this as a gift, and I liked that: I like to imagine Julie reading and enjoying it and then passing it on to someone else who will read and enjoy it.

Next is the stamp carving DVD, Stamp Carving Innovations by Gloria Page, and that goes to Zom. Zom lives in Australia, and I thought this little DVD was light enough that we might be able to send it without taking out a loan. Zom, if sending a SASE doesn't work for you, just let me know and I'll pick someone else, no problem.

Then the book, Surface Treatment Workshop, goes to Carol over at Bloody Frida.

Congratulations, y'all! Send me an email with your address, and I'll get these in the mail. And thanks again for playing! XO

Podcast with Lorri Scott

Lorri needs to live next door to me: we'd sit out on the porch in the afternoons and stitch and exchange ideas, and we'd thrift together--we look for different kinds of stuff, so it would work out without hair-pulling and biting, I think--and it would be fabulous. While I can't remember exactly where I met Lorri--because we've gotten to schmooze at several art retreats over several years--I can remember when I first saw her work (she wasn't there that day) because I have a video of it. Check out The Totally Cute Mary Beth Shaw and her brand-new Lorri Scott purchase at vendors' day at Art Unraveled in Phoenix:

Isn't she fabulous? And aren't those clothes fabulous?

OK, so here's more from Lorri:

Lorri Scott

Artwear by Lorri Scott

Artwear by Lorri Scott

Artwear by Lorri Scott

Artwear by Lorri Scott

Click on the player to listen to our conversation, and go here to read her blog and here to check out her Etsy shop.