It's growing on me

For weeks now I've been eyeing my Victorian stripy dress. I just couldn't bring my self to wear it, partly because it threw off my self perspective and partly because I don't actually like new things. I used to let my sister walk my shoes in and I kind of like the softness of used fabric.. and I knew this would have that "never been washed" feeling. Stiff and unyielding. 

But this morning I did it! 

After a day of relative comfortableness I don't really want to take it off.  I think the thing I found most uncomfortable is that these clothes come with a different movement pattern that I am now unused to. The fabric pulls in a way that one would normally think is because it doesn't fit and you kind of do want to use a chair instead of stretching..not to mention you swipe down everything low standing. Victorian clothes comes with a different restrictions but when you eventually sink into it..one can totally play hide and seek in a buttoned up bustle-skirt dress! and it becomes sort of..comforting.

I've heard the same said about corsets but I still haven't gotten that far.. Luckily today has been a colder than usual day so its been nice having my skirt layers around my legs. 

But! time to unbutton and go to bed. 

Lastly, I really want to try this: hat making. Late night excitement!

Taken by the school holiday monster

Me and Pintrest

Today's favourite interest picture. I love these fashion history time-lines. 

 Looove them!

Part 3, because the internet was made for ranting.

One of the things that period films (or films in general I suppose but I'm only watching period films now) often contain is that moment we all hate with a deep passion: the flatline stare. I had a long fulfilling conversation about those moments last night with my friend and soulsister Amanda. 

All the way from "he just does that cause he likes you" to "I don't feel like you love me if you don't..." we are all ninja-levelled trained to, when experiencing low level border crossing, flatline. By which I mean distance one self from the awfulness of the situation and turn off all response until one has figured out what the socially expected response is and then do that regardless of the amount of feeling shit about it. With a smile on. 

And I hate how that's reproduced in fiction. All that does is make it a little harder to detect those situations. We don't need that. No one needs that to be harder. Except people who make money off people feeling like shit and possibly people with conservative values. And serial killers. It must be great for serial killers!

So please films and series, stop doing that, we all already know what it looks like, give us some options! 

My hatred of fiction part 2.

Actually there's one fictional thing I don't hate and can still take sewing inspiration from..and that doesn't bore me. 

I think it's the feeling of complete misunderstanding of a familiar situation that this doesn't fail on. I need that after all the half finished and bland characters I've seen lately. I need something to go all the way. Even if it is just in the back ground of my sewing. Especially in the background of all my sewing..!

Then I will continue on to my beloved Victorian farm.

That's why I prefer fact to fiction!

As you might have noticed I like watching films while sewing. It helps to keep my otherwise very easily distracted mind focused on what I'm doing, so I look for things that will keep me in the right place. And it works. Sort of.. There is one problem with that though: Fiction often tends to have very limited and shallow female characters. Even the films centred around women (no actually, especially films centred around women!) usually doesn't extend further than the male gaze, so when sewing for a long time..watching for a long time..has the very undesired effect of making me feel misunderstood. I'm always left with the feeling that however much I could identify (because that's what we inevitably do, even if the choice of options isn't great) it's all left a little half way..they don't react as real women would, there is no trace of the real experience of the scenarios that are so familiar..only the reinforcement of how one should be. And that, I suppose, is the real identification in all of this. I am reminded that that's as far as anyone cares to see. 

It's hard enough fighting to get to define my self or even seeing my self from an inside point of view in this world..I don't need fiction to make the boxes even smaller and the labels even stricter..

Being casually misunderstood and unseen is not an exciting novelty.

So maybe in films, much like in books, that's why I prefer factual things. (I'm youtube-ing Victorian farm as we speak. If they made a town version of that I would seriously faint out of happiness!) Because when no one is the subject then anyone can be. The space is wide open and seen trough no ones eyes.. I like that. It let's me breath. 

In a way I do feel like I'm the lucky one. If I can put down a book or turn off a film and instantly it all seems easier and life more exciting..how lucky is that..

Back from the woods.

Ok so now I'm on more familiar ground. The only thing I can't decide on is what kind of neckline I will make, high one or low one, as so nicely illustrated in this drawing I found on pintrest (yes, I am pintresting now) though a little too polarised for my taste. This also nicely illustrates how I'd like to look vs. how I actually look. Minus the boobs. I definitely do not have 2-oranges-glued-on-boobs like cartoon women.

Luckily today wont be the day I decide what to do but soon I will have to. Back to pintrest it is..!

To be continued...