found via Shorpy from Library of Congress

Tomorrow I will be a judge for a middle school science fair, a public school in my neighborhood.

I’ll try not to let the power go to my head.

via Flickr

It’s been all about neckwear this past week at Previously HQ. First, I received a package in the mail from Christine at Flapper Girl.

I’ve had my eye on her Lady Ties, so we did a trade. They are so beautifully made, I almost didn’t want to take them out of the packaging! And she included some extra goodies for me, because she rocks.

Currently, I’m getting ready for the DIY  Trunkshow, and this means making more collars. I made the silk chiffon ruffled collars last holiday season and they are sold out. Even though I wasn’t planning on making more, I just really love them and I’m changing the design little. I found some 1.5″ taffeta ribbon that I’m going to use to make a tie closure instead of  a button. I’m also thinking I might have black satin bias tape enclosing the hem, rather than doing a rolled hem.

I’m planning to have two other collar styles this year, but I’m still deciding what to make. I’ve been looking at images of some really amazing antique and vintage ones:

 (Above images from the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Collection)

 1930s collar from Poppy’s Vintage, still available here!

I like them all but I need be realistic about how much I can get done in time for the show. Sigh. Off to make prototypes and patterns now.

A few weeks ago D and I brought home a beautiful bookcase that used to belong in his childhood home. We knew exactly where it would fit in our apartment, but this new arrangement required that we downsize the current bookshelves. Two Ikea bookshelves completely filled with our intellectual life for the past 15 years, to be exact. Every time we’d move to a new apartment, we were the people with boxes and boxes of books. There was a point in time when I was proud of this; the books were our trophies and pieces of ourselves. Now I’m feeling like a good portion of them are dead weight: Books that I haven’t read since college from religion classes- books on Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity and Islam. Paperbacks of classics that are now available as free ebooks. Novels I know won’t be read again. First, we decided to put aside the books that we couldn’t part with. Then the “easy to say goodbye” pile was put into boxes. The rest, for me at least, had to pass the “do I have a connection with it?” and “will I read this again?” test. The art books are in a separate bookcase altogether and I don’t see a reason to part with any of them.

Some of the books I can’t part with in chronological order of acquisition (sort of): The Saturdays, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Fahrenheit 451, Catcher in the Rye, et al., The Bhagavad-Gita, The Secret History, Howard’s End, Wind Up Bird Chronicles, Kitchen, The Beauty Supply District, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Everything is Illuminated, House of Leaves, St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves.

Which of your books could you never part with?

I often find that the word luxury is misused, which is why I hesitate to use this word when describing the garters in my shop or when describing them in person. I think it’s not only an over-used word, but whenever I encounter the word luxury in day to day life it feels like code for “marketing gimmick.”

Earlier this summer, D and I ate at Al’s Deli* in Evanston and I’ve been trying to put my finger on what I enjoyed about the experience. The closest correlation I can make is walking into a family member’s home and they make me lunch. The sandwich (smoked turkey on seven grain bread) has a degree of care in it’s assembly and earnestness. The quality of everything is very good, but I don’t feel the deli is trying to market itself as ‘fancy’ or ‘luxury’ (although I haven’t tried, I know you can get special add-ons at extra cost). This deli is not trying to sell me on the ‘new thing’. It’s honest. There’s something hospitable about it too. The sandwiches are generous, enough to share. Last time we were there, I noticed a cookbook about macaroons on the back counter behind one of the deli cases and based on that, decided to try a chocolate one. I don’t have much to compare it with, but the macaroon was incredibly decadent and clearly made with high quality chocolate. Although not the cheapest sandwich shop, I feel like I’m getting what I pay for at this place, which these days is rare. If it were within my means to do so, I’d probably be there much more often. For now, it’s the perfect cheap date for us. Quality shouldn’t have to be a luxury.

*If you click over to the website, make sure you mute your computer first, there’s music.

1. Does it have aesthetic balance?  Are there too many things going on? Too many colors or different materials? I usualy go with my gut on this, not sure if I can articulate it. When something just isn’t right, I know it when I see it and make adjustments.

2. Does it look like Previously? Sometimes a design will look great, but it doesn’t look like it came from me. It doesn’t share a certain quality that all the other garters have. This can happen sometimes when I’m using a new material.

3. Does it look right on a leg? This is very important to me. How many of you have bought an accessory you loved in the shop only to find that actually wearing it is near impossible? I have a pair of knit sleeves with black silk tulle peeking out at the cuff. They are wonderfully Victorian. But they don’t look right on me. Their bulk isn’t flattering and they’re too long. An accessory can look good in theory, but if it doesn’t work on the body, it isn’t successful. It needs to hang right to be flattering.

4. Do I love it? I always need to feel a certain tug of wanting something I just made. It can be for a custom order or not, but if I wouldn’t buy it, I won’t sell it.

On July 21st I participated in my second Indie Wed market here in Chicago, and it was a blast! I always get to meet awesome people (like my neighbors to the right, Toast and Jam, and to the left, Cheap Tart).  Kelly and Shannon go above and beyond to make sure the market is a success for everyone.

I was super excited to debut many new garter designs, and some improved display elements. D built the display case which made the garters much easier for attendees to see. The new designs are still inspired by the 1920s, but go much further with technique than the previous line. They won’t be listed in my etsy shop for a few weeks, but feel free to send me an email if you have questions about them.

the Vintage Camera Garland

the Roaring 20s Garland

and the Flapper Girl cupcake picks.

The multitalented Christine also does graphic design for hire here!

My studio wall in 2006.

D and I recently began watching the show Hoarders on Netflix and it’s given me much to think about. We’ve been doing a lot of spring cleaning around here- getting rid of things we just don’t need or ever use. Having only seen the first two episodes of the first season, certain things are really hitting me. I have a tendency to save stuff (for lack of a better word), usually things that would be used in my art practice. A few weeks ago when we did the bulk of the clean out, I got rid of almost half of what was in my studio. It was time to acknowledge that certain projects were not going to get done anytime soon, and future art making may not involve the same materials I had been using. It was not easy to let go.

On the the television show, the hoarders seem at first relatively normal in that I understand their rationale (throwing away things is wasteful). And then they do or explain something and you realize that there is a big underlying issue and they need help. Their behavior is emotional distress manifesting in a very real and physical way. This is not just someone overly attached to their belongings, there is clearly much more going on, as the show reveals. Although troubling in a number of ways, one stands out to me in particular watching those episodes. One of the reasons the objects were kept and not thrown away was because the object represented a task the hoarder never completed. Getting rid of the object reminded them of that lack of completion. For example, someone buys apples to make a pie and then never does it. The apples rot, and somehow owning up to this is so difficult they put blinders on so that they don’t notice the smell of the rotting fruit. Yes, spoiling garbage is an extreme and be in such denial as to ignore it is deeply pathological. But it does hit home in a way, we have several incomplete projects in the apartment that, as time goes on, we learn to just live with.

I read somewhere that clutter represents an unmade decision. I wonder what my home would look like, even my life, if I walked through each room and actually made some of the tough calls.