Elements of Style

I was sick in bed (again. of course.) for nearly a week and spent some quality time surfing the internet. Somehow, one vintage clothing/sewing site lead to another, and I found a whole list of new favorite resources that I can't believe I didn't know about before... retail sites like ModCloth and Ruche for affordable vintage inspired clothing (a lot like Anthropologie, but without the price tag) and blogs like Gertie, What I Wore, and Sally Jane Vintage.

Thoroughly inspired, especially to use more of my vintage items and things I'm usually too scared to take a risk on, I started putting together outfits. And soon they were hanging all over my room...


As I surfed deeper online, I realized that as much as I loved what I saw, I was constantly having to mentally edit and adjust to accommodate what I saw for what I know about what looks good on my body. Even when they aren't super skinny, none of these people have anywhere near the curves I am blessed/dealing with. Where are the good style bloggers with real bodies? I'd think the democratic, unregulated world of blogging would be all over this. I'm still looking. And wondering if High Five needs to branch out into fashion... but I'm super hesitant to declare myself any kind of style maven or put my own curves up on the internet to be scrutinized any more than they already are in my mirror. But here goes:

One of my "it may appear like I'm dressed up and presentable, but it actually feels like I'm wearing sweats and tennies" looks...























Hoodie: Forever 21
Shirt: Horny Toad via Outdoor & More
Skirt: Lolë via TJ Maxx ($15!)
Scarf: Urban Outfitters sale corner
Leggings: cheap sparkly silver, left over from Tin Woman costume circa Halloween 2007
Shoes: Privo
Lanyard: school ID tag (sorry, shoulda taken that off...)

I'm posting more outfits at High Five Style... until we find someone else who is shapely and more well-qualified than me to style and model.

Fabric Wrapping "Paper"

Sometime around Christmas, a conversation with my mother about a friend of hers who sewed fabric gift bags for her family to use instead of wrapping paper gave me brilliant idea... why not make reusable fabric wrapping paper?! Sew some ribbon to the sides of a fabric rectangle and wrap it around you present. I was sure this was how I was going to simultaneously make my millions and save the planet, but unfortunately someone already beat me to it.

I figured I could make them for way cheaper and was looking for a fun project, so I went to Jo-Ann fabrics right after Christmas, bought fabric for 70% off, and tried my hand at it. They turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself...



I made a few bags as well for good measure, though I do I prefer the act of actually unwrapping when receiving a present.



Now I only have to wait 11 more months to actually use them!

Happy Blogoversary

One year ago today, I started wearing my heart on the internet. "High Five" was born... kinda by accident, but it happened (obviously). And it has actually stuck around longer than I thought. Seems to do something for me. I forgot how much I enjoyed writing. Especially when no one is grading it. (Assuming you're not; please don't start now.) It's been all about finding my voice. Taking a risk. Putting it out there.

Who knew the adventures my blog would chronicle over the year? I think the high five story was a great start. And come on, the Trader Joe's/Craigslist saga was made for blog. I survived surprising heartbreak and even more surprising connection. If you told me this time last year that I'd be taking over my parent's house, I would have called you crazy. I wish I had more juicy stories to share lately, sorry. I'm working on it.

The act of writing/posting has had some interesting effects on me life. I've had the regular wrestling match with perfectionism with each post. And have been known to edit old posts when something amiss catches my eye.

But I swear the "no apologies" idea has steadily crept into the rest of my life. Or maybe that was already starting when I decided I should blog. Either way. I'm a little less worried about what people think. A little less worried about being acceptable. A little more WTF; in a very good way. Aren't I getting old and wise?! ('Bout g*d d*mn time.)

Blogging. Was a foreign, outlandish concept. Now feels like a normal way to express myself. Lucky you.

Nesting

Well, I'm settling in. I've had a few "what have I gotten myself into/when do I get to go home" moments, but also, more surprising, "I kinda feel like I'm home" moments. I was right about the ghosts. I still expect to hear the excited barking from Millie and Winnie in the kitchen when I walk in the front door. (Luckily there are two little black cats waiting for me to soften the heart-wrenching blow.) I keep looking at the painting in the hallway expecting to see myself in the mirror that hung there growing up. All the while, I am battling confusion about what is childhood emotion and what is adult reality.

But the stress of the move, the inability to rest until I'm unpacked and settled, feeling the need to decorate for Christmas, and general holiday angst have caught up with me. I've gotten sick twice in two weeks. And having trouble keeping my head above water. One morning I was feeling so tired, sick, discouraged, and trapped that I couldn't stand up long enough to brush my teeth (at which point, I decided it was time to call in sick).

But after a nap, I looked at the bathroom (while finally successfully brushing my teeth), and for some reason, felt compelled to start painting it the mocha/gray I used in the bathroom of my last house that went so well with the dusty purple towels. I may have been influenced by my new 24/7 access to HGTV... And it felt so good. Creative outlet. A fresh start. While the color it was before was fine, I was making it my own. Re-bonding with and claiming the space, one square foot of wall at a time.

It felt so good, in fact, that I decided to see how the red paint leftover from an accent wall in my last house would look on the kitchen wall. Then the other walls. Pretty soon I had a red kitchen. It's kind of a shock. But I like it. It's a tiny little kitchen and the rich color makes it feel cozy and cottage-y.



I feel completely different about those two rooms. Amazing what some paint can do. Now I'm dreaming of a rich tan bedroom and a purpley-mauve dining room wall with a collage of old plates hanging on it...

To Tattoo or Not To Tattoo

I always assumed that a tattoo was a youthful whim that you usually regretted later. And I never thought there was an object or symbol which I identified with enough to live for the rest of my life. Then a few years ago, the art teacher at my school got a tattoo for her 50th birthday. She had survived cancer, diabetes, divorce... and designed a branch with turning leaves symbolizing this new phase of her life. And the wheels started turning.

I started thinking about my own bumpy life experience. Thinking that perhaps tattoo could be a creative expression of self knowledge and self trust. I began to get excited about the idea of decorating/adorning the body which has carried so much pain. Reclaiming. Declaring its beauty. And a way to stay rooted in not allowing myself to be limited by conventional society.

As this idea began to brew, it hit me that my attraction to spiral designs and their symbolism of growth and contemplation - something between old Celtic designs and the wrought iron things I'd been collecting - might be perfect for tattooing. So I started doodling on myself...


Once my tattoo radar went up, I happened to see a TV character (Carmen on the L Word, yum) who had a tattoo curving along each hip, and I started thinking about designs fitting in with the curvature and lines of the body rather than a graphic just being stamp on somewhere. But where? I decided it would need to be somewhere on my body that could be hidden when I wanted but visible when I wanted to out. I got excited about the idea of the inside arch of my foot or on the inside heal...


Then I learned that most places wouldn't do those parts of the foot because the ink fades unevenly. I was really attached to that idea, so the excitement faded for a while. But it has slowly built up again and a new idea has emerged. I'm thinking a slightly larger scale (if you're gonna do it, do it!) design riding the womanly curve on the side of my right back/hip, with at least an an end that peaks up on my belt line (I love it when you are surprised by a glimpse of someone's tattoo on their back when their shirt lifts up a little). And a friend recommended an amazing artist whose style might be perfect to make it happen.


But still, fear of making a decision I might regret is holding me back. Once when I asked someone if they ever thought they might regret their tattoos when they are old and saggy, they told me they far more expected that they would regret not having done it. I think I agree. There are too many ways I have held myself back out of fear. But I'm giving myself time. Thinking maybe it could be a reward when I get out of debt.

Or it might never happen - it might just be just something fun to dream about. And look for meaning through. I draw on myself with sharpie and then test every situation I'm in as I go through the day, asking would I be glad I had it right now? Right now, YES!

Nina Luna Meets Project Runway

I finally got my hands on Project Runway, and now I can't get enough. Seriously. This, combined with the task of coming up with a Nancy Drew costume for my niece... and I'm off running.

I made a cute skirt reminiscent of the recent Nancy Drew movie look (hopefully). Headband and magnifying glass are on their way...

Now I'm on the hunt for a more vintage Nancy Drew look for myself for next Halloween. I already have the magnifying glass necklace. Now I just need the right dress/suit. Something very prim and proper 1940/50s with youthful full skirt. Perhaps plaid with a crisp white collar... Did you know they sell vintage sewing patterns on eBay?!

Inspiration is everywhere when I am tuned in. On the Nancy Drew quest to every local fabric store (it was incredibly hard to find plaid this time of year!), I got distracted and produced a purple and orange paisley corduroy skirt and a laminated cotton bag for Mother's Day!

Fun! Thank you Heidi and Tim Gunn (am I the only one who wants to take him home with me?!).
Make it work, people.
Carry on.

Time On My Hands

For the record, it is very hard to think (much less write) about anything but dating right now, since my brain is consumed by the current deliciousness. Thank you blog for the opportunity to remember the other sides of myself that I've worked so hard to cultivate for at least a moment...

Life has actually been good. Although, a little romance tends to make just about anything rosier. We just had Spring Break. The kids at school all asked, "Where are you going?" Because we are all headed to some exotic tropical location, of course [yes, that is a hint of bitterness that you detect]. I answered, "To my couch." And pretty happily, actually.

My usual plan of attack for any open expanse of time is to dive onto the couch and indulge in the luxury of doing nothing. And "nothing" inevitably means television. But the TV binge usually ends up feeling like a hot dog does for me; a fun idea at the time, but empty and regrettable. I was determined not to feel like I had wasted this gift of time. It took me a while to figure out what I needed to for that to happen. Turns out shopping isn't entirely the answer (though I gave it a good shot). I realized that the first flash of intuition is usually the answer... I needed a project. Like the vacation when I locked myself in a garage with some power tools and came out with a bookshelf.

So I decided to finally make a skirt out of some vintage fabric I have been holding on to. I am lucky enough to have a finished room in my basement, and I have done my best to make it conducive to creative endeavors. Great color and inspiration on the walls. Convenient and attractive storage for lots of supplies. A big fold-out table to spread out on. But I can never actually get myself to use it. It's cold. Kind of dark. I'd rather lug everything upstairs for the slight distraction of the TV... Just more shades of resistance and perfectionism, of course. And a reluctance to be entirely alone with myself.

But I had a breakthrough. Did you know I have a whole room in my house just for creating things?! Somehow I was ready to quit making excuses. I turned on the lights, turned up the heat, and put on some music. And got lost (or perhaps found) in the work.

The cats loved it, too. They even tried to help - if you can call lying on top of whatever I am trying to work on "helping".

Nina Luna Does Book Review

My librarian friend lent me a book that blew my mind! The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Intimidatingly thick at first grasp, but it's juvenile fiction and mostly illustrations.

I was sceptical, but quickly won over. So stylized. And the form fits the function and story beautifully. Going between words and pictures seamlessly, both moving the story forward in their own distinct but symbiotic way. Very specific, intriguing historical subject area. Just dark enough to create tension and longing. And just the right amount of sentimental - appealing to the little part in all of is that is lost. And just enough magic.

It's a picture book and a novel fused into one. Familiar form, but new potential. It made me look at something that I take for granted completely differently. I love it when that happens.

And then my cat puked on Prague...

My sister's friend cancelled on their day-long scrapbooking event, so I decided to go get crafty, get in some quality sister time, and try to finally catch up on my photos from studying in Berlin (yes, eight years ago). Suggestion for you scrapbookers out there: document your adventures within, say, months afterwards. Not years. I couldn't even remember people's names, much less the significance and fun of all the little things that happened. Luckily, I apparently did a few pages sometime right after the trip, so not all of the original flavor is lost. And it started coming back to me as I worked with it, which is half the fun.

So after eight hours of scrapbooking (yes, eight hours), we finally quit. And when I went home, what did I do? More! Yes, I may have an obsessive personality (it was binge knitting last month, remember). But I love a good project!! Once I get into the creative zone, I don't want to be anywhere else. But eventually it was 2am. So I laid everything out for the last page of the trip and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning, I discovered a strange pile in the middle of Prague... Cat Puke!

First of all, lovely. And second, really?! Of all the places in my house to up-chuck, why on the one set of photos that I don't have the negatives for? Serious anger ensued. I nearly threw my cat right out the front door (he's not an outdoor cat). Then frustration; I spent a good chunk of time wishing that reality was different. Then sadness. Lost evidence of the fabulous, free, time in my life. Loss of the creation supposed to be made on that page.

After a while I came back around. Resigned myself to the fact that this was an unexpected and unforeseeable occurrence. I got a mini-lesson in anger out of it. (I'm not good with anger, whether mine or someone else's; it scares me.) And maybe even an amusing story.

I eventually started to look at what I had left, and get some ideas for how to salvage the page. I borrowed a few images from a book and the Web. It probably turned out better than it would have with my own grey photos.

But don't tell Oliver (the likely suspect). He's still in the dog house.

Parties Need Crafts, and Crafts Need Parties

I hate parties where you don't know people. Standing around trying to think of things to say. Field wide open for new people to judge me. Even if I love the host and I theoretically trust that their friends will be lovely as well, I still have a hard time getting myself there. Sometimes I just don't.

But I recently went to a party that bridged this... with champagne and a craft! Fabric collage postcards sewn to cardstock. (Apparently you can really mail them!) Everyone was busy with the fun task at hand, and conversation flowed (or didn't, no big deal) as we pleasede.

Brillliant! (Except for the people who fear art projects more than new crowds of people, sorry. But we could gently guide you to your creativity...) Kids parties, duh. Why not adult birthdays and family gatherings? And how about skipping the toilet paper wedding dresses and measuring the pregnant belly? We're thinking of going into business...

A Whole New Bag

Inspiration can be around every corner. I see something, get an idea, another builds on that. With each idea, my spirit lifts. Possibility.

But too often something happens between idea and action. Perfectionism. Unstarted projects often hang around (often for years). Taunting me.

But something has been knocked loose recently. With encouragement from the right company, the possibility outweighs the fear. And once I get started, I can feel my brain chemistry change for the better. For the moment, it's somehow worth the risk to get into that space. Here's an oilcloth bag I cooked up while at Stitches and conquered within a week - unheard of for a sewing project in my world.


And here's a custom birthday crown for a friend's 50th. Any excuse for a little decoupage and glitter. And a reason to use grommets! Basic idea shamelessly stolen from cute novelty shop, with a few personal twists...


Hmm. What's next?!