Dress Plans(!) & Plans(?)

I go into the living room just to look at it and I caress the pearls. I did the same thing with the plastic feathers of my cardinal dress. I am a fondler.

I just love the actual pearl dress; the photos of it don’t do it justice. (See previous post.)

Each time I finish one, so far, I think to myself: “There’s no way I can make another one I’ll like as much as this one.” I did the peacock dress first and it was a tough act to follow. I was really pleased with it. But the cardinal dress thrilled me. It worked even though it is totally weird.

And now, I think the pearl dress is fabulous. I had my doubts for a while, for sure, but it blazes the eye with its bulbous pearls. And I’ve one more embellishment to add to it. I saw it in Christmas decorations for sale at the craft store.

There is not going to be any slack once the pearl dress is done. Right after I make it, I am going to make the crest for the cheerleader sweater. I am going to use tissue paper I think. (I have a ton of it to get rid of.) Then the pleated skirt; I can hardly wait to do it. It’s going to be two colours — and then, of course, the pom poms.

Then, for sure, is the apron. The apron plays a key role in the script I’m writing. It will be very simple to do and it’s number six.

The other four remain unknown. I think there might be a nurse’s uniform. May be a drag queen dress, too. Maybe. And maybe a Miss Canada dress or a Wonder Woman costume.  A poodle dress?

The thing is, I should have written the play first and the dresses should come from the thesis of the curator of the exhibition. But they don’t. I’m starting backwards, with the dresses, and then making the script and curatorial statement for the exhibition fit my desires.

It takes forever to make each one and that’s the point. The best part of each one is all the finicky time-consuming detail work that is super fulfilling for me.

I’d love to smock a paper baby dress, but it’s too pure. My dresses mix beauty and idiocy. When I think of doing a smocked paper baby dress, the only way I could do it would be if it were soiled with (fake) feces. That’s my twisted way.

I LOVED Namibia and the dunes but it was HOT
and the air is full of silica — not great for someone
with asthma. Running down was extraordinary

Pearl Dress - Progress!

The sleeves are just rough cuts and I have a long way to go still, but the pearl dress is really coming along. I used white rice paper for the skirt and collar that has gold filagree on it in a paisley pattern. So the whole dress is gold and white.

Inspiration versus Execution

I wish I had had the guts to become an artist. I’m confident now that I had potential. I could have gone to art school and been trained and my entrepreneurial nature would have, I think, ensured economic survival. I was too afraid to take the risk.

So here I am, a retiree with a passion for crafts; there are some remarkable benefits to having waited until now.

For one thing, I am a wiser person now. I have patience and that is a good thing. Plus, I am really enjoying being conscious of my creative process. I love, for example, realizing how my process begins with a vision that sometimes comes from my imagination but more often is inspired by something I see online.

The end product, however, is never anything like the inspiring image. And often, once I do start — and my beginnings are always cautious because I am afraid of failing — I can lose my enthusiasm quickly, daunted by the challenge or disappointed in my initial try at execution.

But I always persevere (and I’m sorry if this sounds like bragging) I always succeed — at least to my satisfaction. I don’t think it’s bragging because I have less self-esteem than anyone I know. It’s just that at my age, I realize how many times I have lost faith, recovered and been pleased with the outcome.

I definitely had a slump making the cardinal dress but it is now, for me, a (Chris) triumph.

The pearl dress did the same. I had a huge loss of confidence shortly after beginning, but yesterday morning I went to the crafts store and got lots of goodies with which to tart up my pearl dress and now I am excited about finishing it.  

I’ve decided on a pearl mixture instead of a uniform pearl application for the bodice. And I found a lovely soft pinkish ribbon that might make for a lovely waistband. I may just have enough of the gold paisley paper to make a collar. I’m hoping I do, otherwise I’ll be making a collar with something else.

I’m pretty committed to sleeves for this dress, too. There were no sleeves on the last two dresses I made, so I’m ready for the finicky work.

I’m going to have to buy more mannequins and they ain’t cheap. But I’m pretty committed to a show or exhibition or both now, so there may be some chance of cost recovery.

This image (Above) is the image that inspired me to make a pearl dress. However, my dress has no black, is paper, is white and gold, is opaque, has the pearls on the bodice not the skirt and is formal, heavy and retro in appearance and not delightfully modern and slight. You'll see soon, photos are coming.

The Pearl Dress Has No Pearls (Yet)

The beginning of the "pearl dress." At least one dress in the show has to be tight. 
My plan it to attach the pearls only to the bodice of the dress. 
Other embellishments may come. 

Patrick, Christine and Steve were at The Flame on Wednesday night. After I spoke, Christine said to Steve, “Chris should do his talk at TED-X.”

At intermission, Steve told me what Christine had said. At the time, I was unable to reply. Right after my speech, I was so stressed my speech was gone but I thanked him like a Buddhist, putting my hands in the prayer position and bowing my head.

On Thursday the emails were flying and here is where we are:

• Dianne, who was with me and who worked at Cap, is talking with her former colleagues who have contacts with TED staff.
• Christine and Steve are going to lead a coordinated effort to pitch me to TED-X.
• Patrick is contacting Interesting Vancouver and Sam Sullivan’s Public Salon, to propose me for a speaker at these events as well.
• Joel (from The Flame) is providing us with a tape recording of my speech last Wednesday night to include with the pitches we make.

Take a risk and you never know what your rewards will be. And what irony: I lose my voice and am appreciated as a public speaker.

I am not taking any of this too seriously but I am enjoying the experience of meeting strangers who want to experience some extraordinary opportunities together — whatever happens will happen to all of us not just me.

•

I’m actually underway on the pearl dress but so far there’s no pearls. It’s going okay but its far too early for enthusiasm.

I’m a bit daunted by the enormity of the project I’ve undertaken but, at the same time, I can comfort myself with the knowledge that nothing need come of this idea. It’s lovely to shop for paper or to be working on a dress/costume inside while its cold and/or wet outside.

I know what’s next: The cheerleader costume. I’m really excited about designing and making a school crest for her sweater and the pleated dress. It will be my fifth dress and I’ll be half way to my goal for the exhibition. Imagine that — half way through the costumes already. I can’t quite believe it.

Flamed Bright

It was hard getting started. I had to take deep breaths often but it didn’t really affect my delivery. I can’t remember if I got everything out — I think I may have. There were glitches and I was fifth to speak — the last speaker before intermission.

When I did the bit that is RICH with consonance, a rap-like bit that is a definite wake-up-and-take-notice oral riff, people cheered and applauded.

At the end, there was really enthusiastic applause. Some people even stood; I have never seen that before at the flame. However, I went to my seat and shivered and shook and took deep breaths. It took all I had not to lose it. I was so incredibly stressed. I am still feeling angina pain.

But people were incredibly generous. A lovely man who gave me his card wants to see me at TED-X. A woman bought me a drink. Another woman, a speech therapist, introduced herself and started crying.

All I remember was focusing on my speaking and remembering the words. But I won’t forget the after effects. I was in rough shape but I will never forget sitting in my chair at the end while people were lining up to say the nicest things they could muster — a person who cannot speak being praised to the rafters for their speech. Imagine.

It was all done in my singsong Rand voices. I am still stunned. And happy. I am proud and I am really glad its over.

Easily the best part of the evening is the creative confidence boost it has given me. There were a couple of women there who’d seen my dresses and they were very expressive about them so the night was a real high and now I am seriously keen to do more dresses. I am very glad of that. I know my dresses are going to take me someplace interesting.

Flame #8 Tonight

I don’t think my last creative venture (the play, Trudeau, the Felons and Me) was a disaster for anyone else … but it was for me. Almost immediately after it closed I said to myself: “Well you sure went to an awful lot of trouble to get attention that time, didn’t you!”

I found myself not wanting to do anything to get attention any more. It was a deep-seeded feeling; it seemed like inappropriate motivation to me.

I’d quit teaching (and travelling) to do the play and after the play closed I chose not to go back to either activity — largely because of voice problems. Daily life after the play closed, therefore, became an empty slate. That began a year and a half ago. I, and others, wonder if these decisions to stop doing the things I’d always done didn’t open the door to my breakdown this past April.

The past seven months have been pretty much about recovering from the breakdown. My recent return to making costumes and the gig tonight at The Flame have me feeling that I’ve entered “phase two” of recovery — a phase where purpose is required.

But I have no purpose, so that will be the theme of my discussion with Dr. Shoja today. How does one find purpose? Yes, I make dresses to fill my zillion of empty pointless hours. And I have a great idea for a show. But I question my purpose.

My suspicion is that the whole idea of the show and the dresses may have to be re-thought in a way that addresses purpose.

When I wrote and produced Knock Knock, I solved the purpose problem by donating all its box office ($17,000) to PAL Vancouver. Were I to produce A(r)mour: The Defiant Dress, however, I’d want to keep the money. Conundrum.

But first, tonight: The Flame.

She's Back!!

Tracy Ullman has a new show on HBO. She's the person who commissioned The Simpson's if you remember, as a scene breaker for her show long ago. She's a master of impersonation and I adore her.