Will loathes this chore as much as anyone can hate something that's not facism, and requires at least one, and sometimes two, Come to Jesus talks before she can finally bring herself to do--the horror!--Something That She Does Not Want To Do.
The pro to this is that she'll wear anything that fits. Just does not care. Literally pulls the top items out of her shirts bin and pants bin and puts those items on and wears them, utterly oblivious to how she looks. Syd, on the other hand, although she is happy to try on all the clothes that I present to her, is far pickier about what she'll actually wear, and since by the time something is her size, it either goes to her or to the donation bag, there's more in-depth conversation about what might go with what else in her wardrobe, if something that she doesn't like now would be improved with a stencil or the judicious application of scissors or perhaps with vat dyeing, if maybe she'd rather wear it in the winter with something warmer underneath, etc.
You'll be simply shocked, I'm sure, to know that my wardrobe is a lot more simple. I made do with one pair of shorts last summer, but I wanted more this summer, so I went to Goodwill, found three pairs of pants that I liked, bought them, took them home, cut them off at the knees--
--and hemmed them. Done and done!
I also wear a lot of drawstring jammies around the house, so I figured that while I was at the sewing table, I might as well mend the ones whose drawstrings worked their way out over the past few months:
Done--
and done!
If you've never replaced a drawstring before, here's how to do it--it's super easy.
So that's our summer wardrobe taken care of, although I know that the kids long for more leggings, their favorite piece of clothing to wear (also the most fragile, easily stained and highly prone to tears, grr!). Leggings are actually pretty quick and easy to make, and I've even figured out a way to make them out of old T--shirts, so they're for sure on my to-do list...
Syd had big dreams for her Trashion/Refashion Show design this year. She wanted it to have a wrap skirt that she'd unwrap, mid-runway walk, to reveal as wings. A giant hood. Black velvet and silver sparkles.
And she wanted it to be covered in twinkle lights.
We went through several iterations of this dream, she and I, in between selling Girl Scout cookies like our lives depended on it, especially with that skirt. Twinkle lights, AND a transformation from wrap-around to wings, which means that we obviously needed two skirts, because she can't be skirt-less when her wings are revealed.
I did eventually figure out a way to make it happen using prodigious amounts of Velcro, but in the meantime I transformed a pair of black pants and a fancy dress into an underskirt so nice that Syd decided that maybe the wrap-around skirt part of the wings (and most particularly, with the wing fabric being so plain) could be ditched. The outfit, to be sure, did already have enough going on.
Instead, Syd cut out wearable wings--
--and decided on a runway move that would hide them until a big reveal.
Fortunately, the rest of the outfit went more according to plan. Syd thrifted a couple of pairs of black velvet pants and a single silver blouse that I used every inch of for the hooded shirt that I sewed her--I'm especially proud of the epaulets that used to be part of the shirt's bottom hem. The rest of that hem was used to flesh out the hood, and I cut the shirt's body into two three-quarters-length sleeves.
The twinkle lights were also tricky. For the photo shoot to accompany our application, I safety-pinned on a couple of packs of battery-operated twinkle lights, but it didn't give the effect that Syd really wanted:
She wanted white lights, and more of them. I got the idea to perhaps hook up a long string of conventional plug-in lights to a converter and then a battery pack, a set-up that's not very energy efficient but is upcycled and would, I believed, give the effect that Syd wanted. The problem, though, is that it was also heavy, with a converter box and two 6v lantern batteries. A friend helped me set the rig up, but when I tested it I realized that I'd need at least one more battery for a workable system, and the rig was already so heavy that I had to toss the plan altogether.
That night, another friend messaged me to tell me that she actually had a couple of strands of battery-operated white LED twinkle lights. Did I want to borrow them?
Reader, I DID!
For the first time this year, Syd filled out her own application. I don't know why it never occurred to me before to ask her to do that part, since it's her design through-and-through--some things only seem obvious in retrospect.
And I *should* have been having her fill out her application all along, because the kid nailed it! Here's what she wrote when asked to describe her design:
While average super heroes wear capes, REAL super heroes wear wings! Supergirl of the Night is crafted from four different pieces of thrift-store clothing including velvet pants transformed into a skirt and hooded shirt, shirts repurposed into silver sleeves, and wings made from an old blanket. The hood allows cover from rain and helps blend into the shadows. The sparkly silver sleeves reflect all bullet blasts and blend into day as well as night. The wings allow easy gliding and provide a cover of darkness for surprising enemies. The black shiny skirt hides many epic weapons to protect the innocent. Finally, Supergirl of the Night has a multi-colored string of lights to light up the night, from old Christmas lights with portable battery packs.
I tried to convince Syd that she should paint an old pair of black tights that I'd cut the feet out of back when the kids were modeling The Awesomes, but she had her heart set on wearing the tacky fishnet tights that I've owned ever since I went to that Halloween street party with Mac at least twenty years ago, probably 21 or 22 years ago by now. He dressed as John Hinckley Jr. in a bloodstained T-shirt that he'd used iron-on letters to put "I LOVE JODIE" on. I was dressed as... I don't even know what I was supposed to be, but a friend let me borrow this weird net dress that she said she'd got in Mexico, and I put on black lipstick and fishnet tights, so I think I was supposed to be some sort of sexy murder Goth or something? I have a photo that she took just before we left, with me attempting to vamp in a sexy murder Goth sort of way (I had no idea what I was doing, bless my heart) and Mac standing next to me looking bemused.
I miss him so much. I miss him all the time, so much.
So Syd wore the fishnet tights, and I bought her a pair of black Chucks to go with them (I bought myself a gorgeous pair of blue Chucks at the same time, and they're fabulous and I love them). And when I got the email that we were accepted in the show, we were in our hotel room in Atlanta, and Syd was so excited that she hyperventilated and I thought she was going to pass out for a second.
Even after you've completed your garment and you're accepted in to the show, there's still so much to do! It works best for Syd as a model if she creates and then practices an actual runway routine--and yes, I DID get this idea from watching Toddlers and Tiaras on Netflix, but I swear, it works so well! When we lived in town, Syd would draw a runway in chalk on the basketball court of the local park and we'd practice there every day, but now we have enough room that we can have a chalk runway on our own driveway, and a miniature masking tape runway in our family room. At our first rehearsal for the show, the showrunner demonstrates a proper walk, including the points where she'd like every model to stop and for how long--I videotape that as a reference, and we use that to help Syd craft her routine. When she gets the routine the way she likes it, I videotape that, as well, and she watches it before she practices every day.
It's a lot of work being a runway model!
Syd also had to figure out her hair and makeup. Her hair, she was disappointed to realize, wasn't going to show from underneath her wide hood, so she focused her attention on Googling makeup ideas, and asked the volunteer makeup artist from Tricoci University to give her smoky eyes.
Which she did!
The rest of the makeup--blush and black lipstick with a silver vertical line running down the middle of her bottom lip (which people remarked upon the most out of anything, even though it took me five seconds to do with a small paintbrush and our clown makeup palette)--we did backstage before the show.
Even though the show doesn't start until 7 pm, Syd and I spend the whole day together, first getting her hair and makeup done, then at the theater:
The dress rehearsal takes FOREVER (and this year we rebelled by making Syd the only model who didn't dress for the dress rehearsal--in my mind, it's just one more chance to mess her garment or her makeup up and to wear down the batteries in her twinkle lights), and then we watch the opening act's dress rehearsal, and then we find somewhere to hang out and watch a movie (Beauty and the Beast this year) while doing each other's nails, and then pizza is delivered so Syd chows down on that for a while--
and then, surprisingly, it's already time to get Syd dressed and get the rest of her makeup on.
While we're doing that last bit, the rest of our family is doing this!
The Trashion/Refashion Show is recorded and plays on our local public access TV station a few times a year, but Matt always makes a bootleg video recording of Syd's walk from his spot in the audience. I present to you, then, Supergirl of the Night!
My heart can hardly handle watching Syd perform. I love watching how enthusiastic the audience is, and how happy they are to cheer her on. Every year she's more confident on the stage, and every year she enjoys it more.
Me, though? My favorite moment is this--
Because we do that photo at intermission, when we are DONE! We just have to walk around and schmooze, show off the battery packs to interested audience members, let Syd answer questions about her process and the materials she's used, have her pose for photos with people, and then we get to sit and watch the runway show dedicated to the Trashion designs.
And even later than that, we get to walk down the streets of our town with one of us looking like this:
And because our town is the way it is, nobody even bats an eye. I don't even think we were the weirdest-looking group out there that night.
Syd has already told me that next year, she wants to apply for the Trashion part of the show. This worries me, because Trashion design is trickier, using more unusual materials that can be harder to source (although really, I suppose that we should have been put in the Trashion half that year that I made Syd's garment out of a sheet). Syd has also, however, told me something else that makes me far, far, far happier.
Next year, she says that she wants to sew her garment herself.
About halfway through our American Revolution road trip, I checked my email in our hotel room one night and discovered an email from the ballet department stating that the younger kid's Nutcracker rehearsals would begin that Saturday.
Plan A wasn't to drive home from our road trip until that Sunday, but I'd been worried enough about this specific possibility (and for those of you who wonder why I didn't just ask the ballet department when the Nutcracker rehearsals would begin, I give you the following: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! As if the department is that organized! Oh, my gosh, I'm crying!!! That's too funny!) to craft a Plan B.
Plan B stated that instead of spending two days in Philadelphia, we would stay just half a day, and focus solely on Independence Hall. No City Tavern. No Franklin Institute. No Thaddeus Kosciusko National Memorial (and after I'd learned to spell it and everything!). No Ben Franklin Museum. No B. Free Franklin Post Office. BUT we'd still hit the highlight and climax of our American Revolution road trip, get the kid back in time for Nutcracker rehearsal, and Philadelphia will still be there another time.
I really like this view of the Liberty Bell, because you can see Independence Hall in the background.
Some Junior Ranger badge disappointments in Philadelphia:
The Thaddeus Kosciusko National Memorial is only open on weekends, alas, so I had the kids finish up their partly-completed Junior Ranger books via web research and I mailed them to the site when we were home.
The Germantown White House was closed altogether. An outrage! Sadly, the site also says that they do NOT honor Junior Ranger books submitted by mail, but I sent ours in, anyway. You never know when an especially kind ranger will take pity on you!
You may know that there's a special Junior Ranger badge this year for the Centennial. If you haven't had your kids earn theirs yet, go do it now! My kids received theirs at Minute Man, and were super proud to have them; in the car afterwards, I heard the story at least four times of how the park ranger told them to hold onto their badges and then when they were old, they could ebay them for a lot of money. So, knowing as you do how I feel about Junior Ranger badges, you will not be surprised that I was absolutely appalled to enter the Independence visitor center and see a ranger standing in the hallway with a box of Centennial Junior Ranger badges, passing them out to everyone who passed. Excuse me, but those badges have to be EARNED! Some children have worked VERY HARD to earn those badges, and the mother of those children does not appreciate seeing a ranger simply passing them out as if they were Halloween candy! I had prepared a firm refusal and a tart comment when we were to pass this ranger, but the kids were all, "Mom, ebay!!!" So now we have two extra, but the kids are going to be disappointed when the badges are worthless in forty years because the rangers handed them out like stickers.
Nevertheless, we simply didn't have time in Philadelphia to fuss about all of these little things. Must keep our eyes on the prize!
One of the prizes? It turned out that we had just enough time after the Liberty Bell but before our guided tour of Independence Hall to hike over and check out Ben Franklin's grave!
And then: onto Independence Hall!
There was a line to get through security and onto the grounds of the site, and a middle-aged woman behind us who was clearly trying to edge her way in front of us in this line. Fortunately, when you have four people in your family, you can take up a good amount of lateral area when you're so motivated, and so cutters rarely prevail against us.
Once we were on the grounds, however, this woman continued to act super sketchy. As I was trying to take photos of Independence Hall from the other side--
--I noticed that as soon as the woman got through security, she immediately pushed herself to the front of the line waiting for the next tour. "She must have been running late for her tour time," I thought. But after a few minutes standing in that line, she left it, and then Matt and I totally saw her sneak in the back entrance of Independence Hall!
"She's a terrorist!" I hissed to Matt. "We should tell a guard!"
"Nah," Matt said. "I bet she just doesn't have a ticket." Tickets ARE pretty hard to come by. I bought ours a month in advance.
The woman only spent a couple of minutes in Independence Hall before she came back out--security was pretty tight in there, so I bet she was caught and asked to leave--and speed-walked into another building that didn't require a special ticket. Nothing blew up afterwards, so I guess that Matt's theory was the correct one. Still, clocking her movements kept us pretty entertained while we waited for our turn for the tour.
Here's my second-favorite detective:
Our tour group was a LOT bigger than I would have liked, but our tour guide had a nice, big voice to match, and the kids and I are short, at least, so people usually give us good viewing spots. We also did credit to ourselves, with me being the only one who could immediately answer the ranger's question of which event a certain painting depicted, the signing of the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution.
I immediately piped up, "The Constitution!", and it turned out that I was meant to have determined that based on the presence of George Washington, but just between you and me, I actually recognized Alexander Hamilton and didn't even notice Washington.
Here's the Pennsylvania Supreme Court Chamber.
And here's the Assembly Room!!! We'd been waiting the whole trip to see this!
After our tour, we turned in Junior Ranger books and received Junior Ranger badges that were EARNED, went to the bathroom, bought Philly cheesesteaks from a food truck, hoofed it back to the car, and ate them on our way out of the city and on the long, long, long drive home.
We got home around 1:30 in the morning, the kid showed up on time to her 10:00 am ballet class, Matt discovered at this 10:00 am ballet class that they'd changed the time of that day's Nutcracker rehearsal to an hour earlier (because of COURSE they did), the kid showed up on time to Nutcracker rehearsal, and over dinner that night she told me that the first thing they did when rehearsal began is start lining up the kids into rows. The kids who arrived a few minutes late?
BACK ROW.
And THAT'S how I have a front row soldier in this year's Nutcracker!
I would dearly like for Syd and I to finish the pants for her Trashion/Refashion Show outfit this week, so that next week I can watch out for a nice day to do her photo shoot. I think I've decided to sacrifice my frumpy old thrifted green coat, the one that I haven't worn since Christmas 2012 (when Matt bought me an awesome biker coat, complete with elbow and back pads to keep me safe when I fall off my Harley or get shot at), to the pants cause, hopefully re-using the coat's hardware for the pants fastenings, and then *maybe* using a couple of old green T-shirts for the bell bottoms that Syd dearly desires. Syd also dearly desires green sequins, but I just do not think that we're going to be able to score anything with green sequins to upcycle into the garment.
Seriously, there has been nothing with green sequins in any of the thrift stores for WEEKS. Are people with green sequined clothing finding them so justifiably hideous that they're choosing to burn them instead of donate them?
After a long winter in which I felt particularly unwell much of the time, I started, this spring, to work towards getting healthier. Most of my efforts have involve getting more exercise and losing weight; I'm not particularly vain, nor am I size-conscious, but I just wasn't feeling good, and it's not rocket surgery to blame the 50 pounds that I've gained since my first pregnancy.
I've been tracking my food using MyFitnessPal and my exercise using BodyMedia, because I don't do well with guesswork, and I've been able to lose 23 pounds so far without actually that much stress or fuss; I wonder if I would have started getting healthier sooner if I'd known how different the options are from that first crash diet that I was put on back in the sixth grade. That first experience is the one that makes me feel kind of panicky and upset still if I get too hungry 25 years later, so there's absolutely none of that nonsense now. No tiny little kitchen scale, no tuna, no English muffins--Weight Watchers in the 1980s was a piece of work, I'll tell you that.
My major focus, though, is the amount of healthy exercise that I'm trying to get each day. I wear a BodyMedia armband that tracks it, which is often the main thing that gets me back on the treadmill for another fifteen minutes after dinner, because I want to meet my activity goals, or gets me to that Wednesday morning cardio class, because my armband reads it as "vigorous" activity. I'm teaching myself to run, even though I don't love it and I am definitely the slowest runner on the planet, and I've finally gotten the girls used to the idea that every trip to the park must also include the .8-mile trek AROUND the park, as well.
And so now I have a bunch of clothes that don't fit! I actually am not in love with that fact, because I don't like to shop, and when I do shop, I like to shop second-hand. And second-hand is NOT the way to go when you need a new wardrobe of pants right this minute. I actually had to go to Target last weekend to buy a pair of pants. I am looking forward to altering, modding, and reworking all my T-shirts, though.
But the big question... Yes, I feel SO much better today than I did six months ago. Just in general, I feel so much better! How great is that?
When I'm out thrifting, I collect kids' bedding in novelty patterns. They're actually not terribly common, especially the vintage patterns that I like (can't you just envision all the yuck that can happen to a kid's bed sheet?), but in the time that I've been sewing, some great sheets have come and gone through my sewing stash--Incredible Hulk, Powerpuff Girls, dinosaurs of all sorts, Batman and Robin, Spider-man, Scooby Doo, and who knows what else that I'm not remembering?
I've had a great Peanuts flat sheet in my stash for years, loving it but not sure what to do with it. Eventually my girls, however, who have by this point read every comic strip the library has for Foxtrot, Calvin and Hobbes, and Garfield, discovered (with a little sneaky Momma influence) Peanuts. They LOVE Charlie Brown and Snoopy, and Lucy and Peppermint Patty and Linus! So the day after I completely finished up Rose Dress, I cut out and started sewing the girls matching circle skirts from this Peanuts sheet. You'd think that I'd want a break from sewing after all that fuss, but I've already got another sewing project lined up immediately after this one, as well, so I suppose not.
Sydney's skirt still needs the elastic added to the waist, but Will's was finished up in time to write a circle skirt tutorial for Crafting a Green World, so instead of waiting for a mitchy-matchy photo shoot, I went ahead and just photographed her:
In trying to get the most use out of the sheet, I'm afraid that I made Willow's skirt a size too large. I'm embarrassed to tell you that I meant for this skirt to be knee-length!
It's not knee-length, and the elastic waist is a little roomy, as well:
I really, really like this sheet, though, and I actually really like the size of this skirt because it shows off all the little scenes on the sheet so well:
Willow likes the skirt, too, but after a muddy afternoon at the park she did tell me that the skirt "didn't feel like play clothes."
Ah, well. I'll put it back in her wardrobe one more time, but if it still feels a little awkward to her, then I guess that's why I keep a Next Size Up bin!
We first started doing this with some medium-sized thrifted white plates, because the girls' appetites had outgrown their IKEA lunch plates and the Fiestaware that I collect as our family dishes doesn't make a good "medium-sized kid lunch plate" size.
However, I've been LOVING how these turn out, and the ease of collecting cheap-o white dishes second-hand, combined with the difficulty of collecting Fiestaware at discount prices (people even inflate the price of Fiestaware at GARAGE SALES here!!!), has made me think that perhaps I should start collecting/embellishing these white dishes as our regular stock, and set the Fiestaware aside for the most part.
Except for coffee mugs. You'll pry my giant Fiestaware coffee mug out of my cold, dead, rigor mortised hands.
As far as I can tell, Sydney was never nervous for an entire second.
Me, on the other hand? I was so tense the entire week leading up to the fashion show that I sprang a muscle in my neck brushing my hair one morning. The morning of the fashion show, I ate a nice breakfast, then decided that eating was probably a majorly bad idea.
Basically, I was that kind of nervous in which you sort of feel like you are going to die, you are so nervous.
For Sydney, however, the day was basically just a series of one candy-colored piece of happiness after another. Thanks to the Hair Arts Academy, which donated its services, there was hair styling!!!
Just check out that kick-butt booster seat.
Syd doesn't really have enough hair to bother, in my opinion, having it curled to peek adorably out from under her crown, so I asked the stylist to simply braid it in pigtails, pin it up, and lock it into place, thus introducing Sydney to the wonders of scented hair-spray:
Designers were also permitted to have their hair and make-up done, I believe, but notice, please, that this Momma has her hair firmly braided and hid in a kerchief, and her face firmly placed behind the lens of her camera:
On Sydney's face, I asked for dramatic pink eye shadow and pink lip gloss. Sometimes kids don't like to have their make-up done (can you blame them?), but seriously, look at the expression on my child's face as she's getting her eye shadow applied:
When the stylist is done she asks me if it was the look I was going for, and I say, "I LOVE it, but you've got to get Miss Syd's approval, too."
The designer gives Sydney a hand mirror and asks, "Do you like your make-up?"
Sydney checks herself out from all angles, smiling at herself all the while, then looks up at the designer and says, "Glitter."
Did they have glitter? Why, yes, as a matter of fact they did!
The glitter didn't photograph for me well, but it's brushed all over her face, so imagine it on top of this, The Runway Look:
She's making that face because she doesn't want to close her lips together because she doesn't want to smudge her lip gloss. Seriously.
While Will and Matt had tons of fun out front with the hula hoop troop and the community art project, Syd was busy with the backstage photo shoot:
She goofed off and giggled with her little runway buddy--
--and had some time to contemplate the less fabulous and more tedious aspects of modeling, such as waiting for the shindig to begin, already!
Finally, it was time. I had my game face on, but frankly, I thought that I was going to puke. I would have vastly preferred walking the runway myself, naked, to sending my four-year-old down it completely unsupervised and at the mercy of her own common sense. To make matters worse, when you're backstage, you can't actually SEE onstage--what if she falls and then begins to cry? What if she just stands there for a really long time, and then begins to cry? What if she just wanders off, crying?
Fortunately, I had my man in the audience, bootleg taping the whole thing. Here's what he saw:
Sydney's little runway buddy was the real trooper, since Sydney, who knew her marks VERY well, did her darned best to haul her partner around and keep them both exactly where she wanted them to be. And yes, Dear Reader, at the end of the walk, she does blow a kiss to the crowd. I didn't spend all those evenings with cable watching Toddlers and Tiaras for nothing.
At the end of their walk, off they march:
And then back in line we get, because our portion of the evening isn't over until we've walked the Models and Designers Walk:
No, I'm not escaping--we were required to hoof it back to the Silent Auction area and schmooze for a bit. Syd was still wired, happily collecting her bouquet from Daddy and letting people examine my stitching and hems and all up close and answering questions from the admiring public, but Will, who had won the award for World's Most Patient Big Sister hours ago, was getting pretty exhausted, and so off we snuck back home.
The small child refused to let me take off her make-up, but she did let go of her bouquet so that it could go in water, and she and Willow were sound asleep approximately six second after their little blonde heads hit the pillow.
And that's when Matt ordered a pizza, and I FINALLY relaxed.
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