With stars on my shoes

The options for comfortable, reasonably priced vegan footwear, though growing every day, still isn’t enough for my tastes. I have leather shoes from my pre-vegan days that I have been wearing until they fall apart. I still have a couple pairs that have seen better days but aren’t ready to be tossed. So, I decided to reinvigorate them with paint.

I did some online research and found that Jacquard Lumiere and Neopaque paints work well on leather shoes. I bought two “Exciter” packs of paint, one with small bottles of seven colors and one with nine colors. I painted one pair of shoes. Then, a pair of sandals. Since the sampler assortment were all metallic (the Lumiere line), I then to buy some bottles of Neopaque (non-metallic) colors. I then painted two more pairs of shoes. I now have a shoe painting addiction.

I painted a comfy pair of BØRN clogs with Pearlescent Blue, straight from the bottle. The color was more metallic than pearlescent. And it was very electric. So I did a second coat with Pearlescent Blue to which I’d added a touch of Neopaque Black. I had painted the insole Metallic Olive Green and it was too bright. So I did a second coat, adding Neopaque Black to darken the color, giving it an antique feel.

I was listening to the Cat Steven’s album, Catch Bull at Four and the song, Boy with a Moon and a Star on His Head was playing. It occurred to me that I could paint anything I wanted (or was capable of painting) on my shoes, so I decided on stars. The star motif -- used a lot in the 1970s -- is one of my favorite motifs. I experimented with freehand Metallic Gold stars on the insole. They came out alright, so I took a deep breath and painted stars on the upper band of the clog.

Somehow the surfaces lacked definition, so I painted a Sunset Gold and Pearlescent Violet band around the insole and on the edge of the top part of the shoe. The two colors got a bit lost on the upper band so I painted over it with just the Sunset Gold. I also painted the band along the lower edge in Sunset Gold.

The cream-colored stitching in the platform didn’t look right, so it got touched up with Pearlescent Violet. One of the websites had recommended putting an acrylic sealer on the paint.

After a few days, I put two coats of sealer on the upper part of the clog and the insole. It gave it a shiny appearance that I didn’t particularly like. But is also made the insole a bit slippery. So I stripped the sealer off with some ammonia and decided not to seal the three other pairs of shoes I painted.

Soon after painting my clogs, I found a never-worn pair of electric blue tights for 99 cents at the thrift store.

Scarf score

I scored a great batch of 1960s-70s scarves at the thrift store. When I find a whole collection of a certain type of item, I usually scour the store in the hopes that I'll find something else the same person donated. In this case, I just got the scarves.

The bright, almost acidic, colors jumped out at me. The one in the middle with the orange blocks on a dark blue background is my favorite and I wore it right away. Four of them are long tie-shaped scarves. I'll try to find a dog-earred or white collared dress to wear them with.

Revelations about a dress form

Last night I was looking at  all the fabulous creations submitted to the We Sew Reto blog and it led me to Polka Dot Overload, where I got all excited by a post about “large-busted sewing” (blogger’s own term) because 1) bust alterations are my biggest dress-making obstacle and this post has great info and links, and 2) it had an image of an ad for the “My Double” dress form.

I own one of these dress forms.

It was given to me by a neighbor and has proved handy for photographing vintage clothing for my Etsy shop. It is about a size 4. I knew the wire mesh was meant to be manipulated, but, duh, it never occurred to me that it could be stretched enough to fit me.

So, when I saw this ad last night, I started playing around trying to get the dress form to fit my shape. Turns out it does expand quite a bit. I will just need another person to help fine tune the shape to my body. I was planning to make a duct tape dress form, but it would be so much easier if I could make this one work for me. After making the form wider, it was now too wide to fit back on the stand, so I put it, with the front unsnapped and open, on the floor.

It now has another purpose – cat meditation pod.

I’ve taken in my friend's cat Tigro, while my friend  recovers from being injured in a motorcycle accident. I went out today and when I came home, I found Tigro sitting in the dress form.

Later, he was there again. Who knows, maybe he thinks it is a force field or a fortress. Cats are weird.

The hordes at the thift stores

My local thrift store is always crowded. The other day I waited in line to make my purchase behind FIFTEEN people! And prices for certain things are only slightly cheaper than they are at H & M or Target. Of course, I am glad that there are lots of people buying used clothing and other items instead of buying new. I just read a couple articles that back up my impression that the thrift stores are getting busier.

"Hard times have brought in hordes of new "thrifters" — one in six adults now shops at the stores," according to the article, "Save and Schmooze: Today's thrift stores offer more than bargains." In areas where there are lots of retirees, thrift stores are like community centers.

As far doing a booming business, it's the same in the U.K. -- "Sweet charity: why second-hand clothes shops are thriving" was on The Guardian website today.

That being said, it's still possible to find a bargain and to find things you can't get elsewhere. I'm always on the lookout for vintage patterns and haven't found any at my local place. Until last week.

I got this for $1.99. I've no idea yet if there is a single complete pattern amid the pattern pieces, instructions and envelopes. 

And for $4.99 I found a vintage skirt of paisley-patterned cotton velvet which I will cut up to make a bag.

I just hope that none of the hordes at the thrift store want the same stuff that I want.

From jacket with a past to bag with a future

This post is about my re-fashioning a vintage jacket into a bag using a vintage pattern. But stay tuned for the surprise ending.

Sabrina of India jacket, Boomerangs, $8.00 As I wrote in a previous post, I bought a late 1960s/early 1970s long jacket of nice-quality, hand-block printed, and hand-loomed cotton, made in India and originally sold at Bergdorf Goodman in New York. It was too worn to be saved as a garment so I decided to make a bag.

Since I don’t buy leather bags, I use fabric bags. I wear them out fairly quickly and rarely find ones that function exactly as I would like.

Although I probably could have figured out how to make this bag without a pattern, I used Simplicity 9553, dated 1971, which I had bought on Etsy for the spats.

Both bags from this pattern are featured in a 1972 Simplicity magazine I recently bought (that I owned in 1972, too). The pattern has just two pieces – a long rectangle with a semi-circular end and a strap. The rectangle just folds at two points to make the back, front, and flap of the bag and the lining.

I whipped the bag up in two short evenings. The hand-loomed cotton has a loose weave so I lined it with a medium- weight cotton.

I love this bag. It came out exactly as I wanted. It is the perfect size and shape. And color. My favorite color combo is aubergine, dark red and gold. The fabric is gold and aubergine and I added a vintage-looking trim of red embroidery with tiny silver sequins. I had bought this trim at an Indian shop in East London with no specific purpose in mind.

The lining fabric is fairly new; I got it for free at a craft supplies swap. Stars are one of my most favorite motifs, and were used a lot in the early 1970s.

I made the following changes to the pattern.

1. Because I wear bags across my body, I made the strap longer and wider. I used the cotton lining fabric on one side of the strap to give it more body.
2. I had to cut the long rectangle in 3 sections since I was using a directional pattern. That way the “buffalo tortoises” or whatever the creatures are, weren’t topsy-turvy. I had to do the same with the strap.
3. I made the bag less box-like by making shorter seams at the bottom corners of the lining.
4. I added a closure. I used one of the fabric button loops from the jacket and a vintage wooden button. I used another vintage button on the inside of the bag to add support.
5. I like a little pocket inside my bags, so in order to preserve the “history” of the jacket I cut a pocket from the back neckline with the labels intact.

The Bergdorf Goodman label that had one of the previous owner’s name (obliterated in the photo above) was moved and sewn into loops to hold pens.

As mentioned before, I had done an online search for the name of the previous owner that is hand-written on the Bergdorf Goodman label. I found that it had belonged to a young woman who, like me, is vegan.

This past week I was planning to attend the monthly social gathering, Boston Vegan Drinks. When I checked the list of attendees on Facebook, I saw the name of the woman whose name is on the label! Although I had started the bag, I now had incentive to finish it quickly.

Sorry for the headless body, I was on the roof of my building and the wind had whipped my hair across my face so I looked like Cousin It. At Vegan Drinks, I started chatting with a woman I hadn’t seen before. She told me that she had just moved back to the area after being abroad for two years.

What happened next, I couldn’t have planned better. She was telling me about her time abroad and her eyes kept moving to my bag. After a bit she said, “I’m sorry, I’m distracted because my grandmother had a jacket of the same fabric as your bag.” I said, “This is your grandmother’s jacket.” She was understandably confused. I then showed her the label with her name on it inside the bag. She was stunned.

Turns out she had given the jacket to her mother to donate before she left the country two years ago. When and where her mother donated it is unknown right now. 

Now I have a new bag and a new friend. I read somewhere that it takes being observant to notice coincidences, that they happen more often than people are aware of. If it weren't for the museum curator in me -- and my interest in the history of vintage items -- I might never have made this connection.

Shall I be a red knight or a wizard today?

I was video-chatting with A (formerly known as ‘My Man in the U.K.) yesterday and he said, “What is that you’re wearing?” I adjusted the web cam so that he could see the new-to-me psychedelic Custo Barcelona t-shirt (worn with a pair of bright orange pants) that I had bought recently at the thrift store. He said that every time he talks to me (which is most days), I am wearing something he has never seen before and that I am like Mr. Benn.

Who is Mr. Benn?

He was a gentleman who starred in an British children’s animated television program in the early 1970s. Each episode he leaves his house at 52 Festive Road (I want to live on Festive Road!) and pays a visit to the magic fancy-dress costume shop. There he is assisted by a bespectacled, fez-wearing shopkeeper. Mr. Benn chooses a costume to take to the fitting room to try on. Once on, he passes through a door and into an adventure in a different time and place. Once he was a spaceman visiting different planets, another time he was a knight helping a dragon, and so on. Each time the shopkeeper appears at the end of his adventure and leads him back to the shop. And each time Mr. Benn comes home with a small souvenir in his pocket.

So, A thinks that the local thrift store is like the magic shop where I find a different costume every day. Now, there are some odd characters working and shopping there, but I haven’t seen any in a fez (yet). And my adventures are pretty limited to going to the post office or Whole Foods. Although today was somewhat more exciting in that I went to the post office and Trader Joe’s. But, maybe one day I will find an outfit that does lead to a wonderful adventure.

Here's the first episode:

I like this one too:

Confessions of an Art History Nerd: Rogier Van Der Weyden

Two recent thrift stores finds helped me concoct a look vaguely inspired by one of my favorite Northern Renaissance artists, Rogier Van Der Weyden.

Rogier van der Weyden (Flemish, c. 1400-1464), Mary Magdalene, Detail from Braque Family Triptych c. 1450

Funhouse NYC stretch ultra suede dress, $6.99, Goodwill; One World long-sleeve T-shirt, $4.99, Goodwill; tights from Cambridge Clogs; purple paratrooper boots from Vegetarian Shoes, Brighton, UK; my trusty moon face pendant purchased in the 1970s; bangles from India.

Guess I should have made the pattern in my tights line up. Oh well.

One World long-sleeve T-shirt as above; short-sleeve T-shirt, Goodwill, Cambridge, $4.99; 1970s jeans free from a clothing swap. And it works well for my uniform (see here) of short-sleeve top over long-sleeve top.

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Mohop shoes

I just stumbled upon Mohop vegan, eco-friendly shoes made in Chicago. In addition to offering a bespoke service, they have a ready-to-wear collection on Etsy. The shoes come in variety of woods for the sole and each has elastic loops on the side so that you can wrap ribbons or ties in all different ways to create different looks.

Some are very cute.

Some look as though you’ve sustained injuries to both feet and are wearing bandages.

Some look as though you’ve injured both ankles while in India.

Others have a cool '70s vibe.

Or a decadent '70s vibe. (They’ve partnered with a nonprofit social enterprise to make the ties out of recycled sarees).

Because I walk everywhere, my main concern for footwear (after being animal-friendly) is comfort. The Mohop website and the feedback on Etsy are reassuring. 

I like the way they are so customizable; I envision making my own straps to make them even more one-of-a-kind. Vegan, comfortable, benefit an Indian nonprofit, sustainably sourced wood, customizable, made by a small artisanal business--these require serious consideration.

Back to black?

I used to wear a lot of black. About 10 years ago, I embraced color. After experiencing the overload of color, noise, smells and general liveliness of Indian cities, Boston seemed to be a ghost town in black and white. (A friend moved back to Boston after several years in Spain. Used to smartly dressed Spaniards, he told me that it looked like everyone in Boston was wearing pajamas.)

I picked up these two black dresses at the thrift store the other day. I’m not sure if they’re keepers.

Here I look like a prim governess. This late 1960s was made by a local dress shop. It has a hand-stitched label: Signed by Gertrude Frank, Brookline. Of black polyester crepe with princess seams, the style is flattering. But even with the white ruffles at the collar and cuffs, I’m thinking it's too severe. Granted I only accessorized it with an Arts and Crafts, Ruskin-style ceramic and silver brooch (marked ‘Kensington Art Ware') and Victorian gold and black enamel bracelet.

And what is with tight sleeves in vintage clothes. My arms are probably the thinnest part on me, but the sleeves from the elbow down are so tight I can barely move. I noticed with my vintage Wallis jacket that the buttoned cuffs are quite snug, even though I have freakishly tiny wrists with a circumference of 5 inches. Luckily this Victorian bracelet fits me perfectly.

The other dress is a maxi dress with a black knit bodice and a brown and white polyester skirt and belt. The high collar and cuffs have black and white snowflake-pattern trim. Even though the dress fits beautifully, I don’t why the maker (it’s homemade) combined the brown and white floral and geometric patchwork print of the skirt with a Nordic black and white trim. Kind of ugly, no?

I'm not sure even the right accessories will save either of these dresses.

Does anyone dye anymore?

I was looking through some late 1960s and early 1970s issues of Seventeen magazine recently. Two things struck me. 1) There were lots of ads for sewing patterns, sewing machines, and fabrics, with an emphasis on how you can be unique and make your own looks. 2) The latter part of each issue was devoted to wedding articles and ads for engagement rings, hope chests, and dinnerware.

I glanced at current issues of Seventeen in the library recently and neither sewing or weddings are featured anymore. I’m not bemoaning the lack of attention on marriage for teen-agers, but the now the ads are focused on branded clothing and fitting in.

Not only sewing but dyeing was a big deal. Here are some ads for Rit and other dyes. It’s interesting that Rit paired up with other companies to co-market their products.

From Seventeen magazine, April, 1968Here Ked’s white sneakers are advertised with a sneaker painting kit. It seems that there were even sneaker painting contests according to this newspaper ad from 1968.

From Seventeen magazine, April, 1968From Seventeen magazine, February, 1970 “Rit Invents Electric Satin.” How to dye fabric for sewing clothes with Simplicity patterns (pattern numbers are given that top).

From Seventeen Magazine, June, 197Hot Stuff Rit Liquid Dye ad for hot pants and tank tops you and he dye together. The opposite page has complete instructions.

From Seventeen magazine, August, 1971Ad to “tie-dye your own original fashions.” This ad and the column on the opposite page have instructions for tie-dying a sweater, hat, windbreaker, skirt, and scarf. That’s a lot to get into one ad!

From Seventeen magazine, May 1973Two years later, after you’ve ditched the boyfriend, you can invite the whole gang over to tie-dye.

From Ingenue magazine, April , 1970“So you’re out to change the world. We can do it together” ad for Lady Esquire Instant Shoe Coloring, which came in 45 colors. This ad features an entry form for a contest for the “most original and workable idea.” Winner received a $3000 wardrobe by Pierre Cardin, New York.

Here’s a great article on shoe make-overs from the July, 1970 counterculture fashion magazine Rags. I think I need to make those star shoes.

I’m also inspired by bag and shoe dyeing projects on Vintage Vixen and Two Butterflies. I wonder what kind of paint/dye works best on non-leather shoes/bags. Anyone know?

I have a thing for textiles

I spent the weekend getting my textiles out of storage. I moved back into my apartment after 2 ½ years away and have been getting things out of storage gradually. Previously, virtually every surface in my apartment was covered in all manner of embroidered, printed, mirrored and woven textile.

This weekend I brought out some of my collection and draped them about. It was nice to be surrounded by color and texture again.

Here’s a tiny selection, all acquired in thrift stores, at yard sales, or on my travels in Turkey and India, or given to me as gifts.

(left) 19th c. brocade with dragons, (top) Middle Eastern embroidered cotton , (right) vintage Punjabi phulkari work, (bottom) printed cotton from Iran, (center) 1920s woven tapestry(upper left) vintage Rabari textile with embroidery and mirrorwork from Kutch, Gujarat, India; (upper right) embroidered bag from Turkey; (lower right) embroidered bag with cowrie shells from Gujarat, India; (bottom left) woven cotton and metallic thread runner from Turkey; (center) woven cotton and metallic thread runner from Turkey.(left) traditional Arjakh block-printed and vegetable dyed pillow cover made by Ismail Mohammed Khatri (whose workshop also made the cover I have on my bed); (center) patchwork of embroidered and mirrorwork textiles from Pakistan; (upper right) mudcloth from Mali; (lower right) 1950s linen pillow cover with embroidered ‘ameoba’ design. 

As much as I missed my textiles, I have to admit that it has been easier to keep my apartment clean. My apartment looks out over a courtyard, which captures dust and dirt and funnels in through the open windows. I haven’t had to spend time shaking things out the window as I used -- and will again.

 For anyone else who loves textiles, are they dust catchers that are worth the effort?

Indian jacket with a past

Sometimes I wonder about the backstory of items I find at thrift shops.

Sabina of India jacket, $6.00, Boomerang (charity shop) This 1970s long jacket is of hand-woven cotton and is block-printed by hand. It has seen better days with a few ripped seams and one sleeve about 3 inches longer than the other. The longer one is patched.

I loved the hand-woven and hand-printed quality as well as the crazy print. Is that a cow, a tortoise, a buffalo? (I'm open to other suggestions)

One label says “Sabina of India/Made in India.” There is also a hand-sewn label for the department store, Bergdorf Goodman on the Plaza, New York. (An online search also turned up Sabina of India vintage clothes with hand-sewn Lord & Taylor labels). I am not showing that label because it has a person’s name handwritten on it. There is also another name and number handwritten on the inside. This made me think it must have made the rounds in a college dormitory (residence hall). So, I googled the distinctive name on the Bergdorf label and was able to identify the previous owner (and the one who probably donated it to the charity shop where I bought it) as a young woman who lives in the next town over from me. And she’s also vegan like me! Chances are, I’ll probably cross paths with her one day at one of the various vegan social events I attend. In the meantime, I am trying to decide whether to turn this into a short-sleeved, shorter, more fitted jacket, or a tote bag. Maybe I'll have it on/with me when I run into the previous owner!

Channeling Susan Dey

I bought this vintage (I’m guessing 1973-4-ish) Leslie Fay knit dress with cream-colored collar and cuffs because I liked the print. It has a floral pattern in heathery teal, raspberry, purple, green and peach on a black background. I also have a thing for full sleeves and collars and cuffs in contrasting colors.

However, the “secretary” style of the dress, with its yoked bodice and self-belt, really didn’t suit me.

1970s Leslie Fay dress shortened into a shirt, $6.99, Goodwill; 1990s Max Mara vest, purchased in the early 90s, Filene’s Basement; 1970s flared jeans, free from a clothing swap; 1980s Fiorucci studded belt, $1.99, Goodwill. So, I shortened it into a shirt and ditched the ribbon and belt. Now it sort of reminds me of something Susan Dey would wear in The Partridge Family.

Adding this to:

Orthopedic Ruby Slippers

There hasn’t been much snow this winter, so I have been able to wear shoes instead of boots most days.

I walk everywhere so comfortable shoes/boots are extremely important. My most comfortable pair of shoes, my version of “orthopedic” shoes, are these red and white platform shoes that I bought at a yard sale about 7 years ago for $3.

Not only are they extremely comfy, they make me 2 ½ inches taller.

Although they remind me of this.