Crazy Crafty: Mrs. Santa's Got A Brand New Hat

At this point, failure should be no surprise to me.  Nevertheless, I am often shocked by my own missteps, feeling particularly disappointed when said failure results from a supposed area of personal expertise (e.g. crazy homemade hats).   Disappointment abounds in Mr. Tiny's Workshop...

Intent on showing off my wacky tacky Tree Toppers to the family, I paraded them through the living room before the hot glue was even dry.  So busy humming "Pomp and Circumstance," I completely misjudged the time it would take to finish the song before explaining my creations.  I had barely uttered the last "duh-dum" when Mary pounced.  Practically wrenching it from my hands, she perched the snow angel atop her head and covetously inquired if it was to be her Christmas hat.

Why hadn't I thought of that?!!  

Really, why?!!  I mean, I have long held the reputation for turning just about anything into a hat - candy containers, placemats, fruit baskets, paper plates, panty hose and whiffle balls, etc.  If I hadn't thought of transforming my dollar-store delights into headpieces then I was fairly certain that my imagination was broken.  I had failed the holiday.  I had failed myself.  The only way to rectify the situation was to make some holiday headware that would sustain Mary throughout a season's worth of parties.  This year, instead of a Christmas dress, Mary would get a Christmas head-dress - with one caveat; I told her that if I made the hat, she had to wear it to at least one holiday party.

It all began in very much the same way as the tree toppers; the usual suspects included glitter tulle, doll head/hands, graduated bells, pipe cleaner, and pompoms.  The red, white, and black tinsel trimmings came from a deconstructed penguin decoration found at the 99 Cents Store.

As I had used the baby doll head for the snow angel, all I had were the face and hands of a sweet, bespectacled old lady (but enough about me).  Using them, I carefully began transforming the flotsam and jetsam of the craft stash into the merriest of Christmas widows, Mrs. Santa.

I gave Mrs. Santa a full makeover (including a touch up of her eyes, lips, and hair).
She wears a mobcap and proffers a miniature Christmas tree from the cake supply store.
The two-tired skirt works as a veil; the white tinsel trim is wired so the veil can be shaped as needed.

As the hat grew in size and scope, it occurred to me that maybe this might be a bet that even I didn't have the nerve to enforce.  But Mary called my bluff.  Not only did she wear the Mrs. Santa hat to a party - she kind of rocked it.

In a bizarre, crazy Christmas way it works, right?
And when it is not in commission as a hat, it can
be employed as a super-festive toilet paper cozy! 

Mary also upped the ante of the bet; at the very last minute (as we were on our way out the door), she dared me to wear a crazy party hat.  With negative time on my hands and no hat, I grabbed a tinsel tree decoration from the side table, quickly wiring on some ornaments and a bit of elastic to make an "aluminum" christmas tree hat.

Leave it to these two weirdos to show up at a fancy, grown-up
holiday party wearing homemade garbage on their heads.

The strange part is that the hats were actually a hit!  As it turns out, having a Christmas tree sitting on your head is quite the ice-breaker; all evening long conversations began by acknowledging the celephant in the room...and the hat on his head.

"Um...my eyes are down here."

Even Sage, our host for the evening, approved of the ceiling-scraping millinery.
We're sending a plaster repairman next week. 

To balance the sky-high spectacle on her head, Mary wore all vintage - a black '40s dress in rayon crepe, costume jewelry, and a '40s fur jacket.  In spite of the ebullient holiday cheer inherent in Mrs. Santa, the outfit read as a wartime femme fatale in an unlikely and depressing yuletide movie (see: Christmas Holiday).  And so we say to you...

"Merry Christmas and A Happy Noir Year...'Always!'"

"Always" - Deanna Durbin in Christmas Holiday (1944)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! Mexicali Folk Couture Strikes Again

I like to pretend that my refusal to purchase scads of souvenirs is some kind of transcendence into a realm of heightened spirituality like, "I don't need twelve pairs of toy castanets, I'll carry every beautiful moment of this Spanish vacation in my heart."  More likely, it is because I'm cheap and fat, and every penny saved on tchotchkes is a dollar earned toward döner kebabs, fun-flavored Kit Kats, or Croatian pizza.  Don't even get me started on Croatian pizza.   

Yes, I'm cheap, chubby, and, lo theses many years later, I'm still tripping on all the untouched pairs of castanets left all over the house.  Recuerdos de España.

Apparently, my enlightened attitude isn't shared by my sister because, from one of her work trips to Mexico, she returned with an avalanche of souvenirs.  I can just see her, overwhelmed by the splendor of the mercado, eagerly shouting, "I'll take one of everything!"

Quite conscious of my inability to control the sewing urge when handed a pile of interesting fabric, Mary made sure that her purchases included a few yards of a striped Mexican textile in three colorways.  This fabric presented a particular challenge because each length was only eighteen inches wide.  Knowing that some creative piecing would be in order, I started draping the fabric on the dress form. 

My personal design challenge was to incorporate each colorway into the completed ensemble.

After several rounds of pinning, I decided on a poncho with a contrast yoke featuring a large neckline bow.  To balance the volume of the poncho, I made a simple pencil skirt, creating the necessary yardage by joining the fabric at the selvages.

Fast becoming a signature of Mr. Tiny's Mexicali Folk Couture,
the poncho and its bow are trimmed in eighteen handmade pompoms.
I hemmed a remnant of the white fabric to make the headscarf; the hat
is a purchased souvenir.

Envisioning a mid-century counterpart to Mary's overzealous souvenir hound, my concept for a photo shoot involved a classic car full of colorful souvenirs.  Time and finance are usually the fodder for the  epic battle waged between my lofty concepts and meager reality.  Thankfully, Mary's convertible Corvair, a million tissue-paper flowers, and our reliable friend-photographer, Fabian, came to my rescue.

When I told them that I wanted it to look like a sixty-year-old editorial from
Harper's Bazaar or Life Magazine, Mary and Fabian got right down to business.

Fabian always has a deft way of combining fashion and automotive photography.

Mary's shades are themselves a souvenir from our summer adventures in Venice.

"I have no impulse control and I don't care!"

As much as I loved Fabian's photographs, I couldn't help but notice my failings as a stylist; the matching basket purse I made is barely visible in any of the pictures.  And so, I feel compelled to give the purse its due.

The basket purse follows the color blocking on the outfit and, like the poncho, it
is trimmed in yellow pompoms.  If you're keeping score, that makes TWENTY!!! 

As much as I love it, I'm not sure how many opportunities Mary will have to wear this outfit in its entirety; like most of my (mis)adventures in design, it scratched a creative itch, allowing me to move on to the next project.  Thanks to Mary and Fabian for skipping the "Tijuana Taxi" and hitching a ride on the Mr. Tiny bandwagon!

"Tijuana Taxi" - Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass (1966)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! A Shimmering '60s Minidress???

How often does it happen that you start out with every intention of creating a shimmering, '60s minidress...

Only to end up - after hours of sewing and hand-finishing - with Jane Jetson's housecoat?

Sorry, George...

It probably didn't help that this Mr. Tiny Original was made out of a lightweight upholstery fabric featuring alternating stripes of purple and gold lamé (recognizable from Mary's red Happy Holiday Frock); the metallic fabric sewn into a Star Trekian v-shaped yoke only added to the mid-century, space-age sensibility. 

Yes, Mary was fated to look like a dress-extra from that lesser known sci-fi masterpiece, Mars Needs Matrons.  

I really should have seen this one coming.

As I don't often sew in shades of violet, I was devoid of an appropriate lining
material.  In typical cheapskate make-do fashion, I dove into my stash of remnants,
emerging with this piece of Marimekko's beautiful Tulipunainen print (1960). 

Brainstorming for a way to elevate the humble housecoatery of my creation, I returned to the sewing machine and made a matching pair of fully-lined dance pants.  

Dance pants or decorative diaper cover?  You be the judge.

It was only then I realized that, when paired with the brevity of the hemline, the briefs only served to make the dress look like a '60s babydoll nightie.  Undeterred, Mary took the dress out for its first spin last year at Jonathan Toubin's Soul Clap at Downtown LA's Regent Theater.  So busy dancing were we that, of course, we photo'd not a single op.

Fortunately, representatives from LA Weekly were on hand to catch Mary "Tighten Up."
(Source)

Truly, the only pictures we have come courtesy of the Weekly's Lena Lecaro.
(Source)

Languishing among the racks of barely-worn Mr. Tiny creations, this dress came to mind when Mary was deciding on potential outfits for the Brian Wilson "Pet Sounds" concert we attended over the weekend.  As the event was the highlight of California's Mid-State Fair (and the lives of these two California kids), we attempted to make the most of our surroundings by making our way to the midway! 

Armed with only our phones, we did our best to

capture the ambient light provided by the rides.

In honor of the wheel, we call this dress "Bueller."

(brought to you by Spacely's Space Sprockets).

Mary swings with...well, swings!

My favorite ride has always been the carnival swings.

I love the feeling of flying amongst the romantic portraits 

of all those lovely ladies painted on the canopy.

Details of the dress are few in these photos but one is certainly evident.

Like all women who wear dresses, Mary was particularly pleased with the pockets!!!

This dress marks the millionth time I have kidded Mary for rarely/never wearing the clothes I make for her.  After two nights out on the town, I tell myself that I am allowed to count this dress among my successes.  Without any resentment, I am satisfied if the future of this frock is relegated to becoming the futuristic housecoat it was always meant to be...I guess "[It] Just Wasn't Made for These Times."

"I Just Wasn't Made for These Times" - The Beach Boys (1966)

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: A Sock Monkey's "Tail"

Hand-me-downs work in mysterious ways.

Despite his protestations to the contrary, my older brother is kind of a hip artist; professionally, he works as a graphic artist and screen printer but his passions are illustration, lowbrow culture, and motorcycles.  Being well-connected in the action sportswear industry and motorcycle/chopper scene means that he often gets insider hook-ups.  Fortunately for me, the trickle-down effect applies even when it comes to such pedestrian things as socks!  Recently, I procured from him a few pairs of brand-spanking-new Stance Socks.  In all honesty, I was a little concerned by the obsession my bearded brother and his tough-looking biker friends have with the preciously-patterned, often intentionally-mismated socks (designed and worn by the likes of Rihanna).  One wear of the socks, however, was enough to change my derisive tune.  Without sounding like a paid testimonial, all I will say is that the cushioned sole, the downy-soft yarns, and the comforting compression of the elastic fibers, are total game-changers.  If socks were hugs, then Stance would be my large-bosomed grandma.  This is why, with only three sets to my name, I was reticent to destroy even one pair of these footwear phenoms.  But given the color story and pattern of this particular pair, I was left with no choice but to turn to one of the Depression-era's most popular crafts.

It's nearly impossible to believe that the designers at Stance intended these to be anything but a sock monkey!

In the 1930s, the "Rockford Red Heel," a sock manufactured by the Nelson Knitting Company, became the standard for creating the iconic sock monkey.  With their heathery field punctuated by  "Rockford Red" heels and toes, these socks were practicaly foreordained to become my nephew's refashioned Christmas present.

Every year I make my nephew some kind of stuffed animal as part of Christmas/Birthday/Easter present.  With the socks burning a hole in my creative pocket and the years waning in which he will still be able to appreciate "Pirelephant", Pinkeroni the pink easter bunny, or Egghead the clown, this year was my last chance to be the (sock) monkey's uncle!

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"
It's a bit creepy but aren't all sock monkeys?

I considered making an après-ski ensemble but with the striped toe of the sock automatically becoming
the sock monkey's permanent knitted cap; the only thing I needed to add was a red pompom on top.

I wish I could say that it was a conscious design choice, but the fact is that I didn't consider a tail when portioning out the precious knitted real estate of these hand-me-down, high-style socks.  Icould tell you that "I'm mad about about [this] chimpanzee" but...

One look at his bright-red hind quarters reveals that he is much more likely a sock baboon (and even
they have tails).  Please excuse me while I go fashion a tail out of sock scraps before Christmas Eve!

Sometimes I think just pretend to make these things for my nephew when I really kind of make them for myself.  Lucky for him, I do hand over custody but I have been granted frequent visitation.  I'm pleased that he continues to enjoy his growing menagerie of stuffed animals because I definitely get a kick out of making them.  Truth be told, if he didn't like them, I probably would continue to make them and keep them for myself.

I hope a new simian styling and a ride in a vintage Hy-Speed wagon do not undermine the street cred
of these super-hip superstar socks.  In fact, I hope that Stance hires me for their new craft division (with
Martha Stewart as the face of the brand, probably).

I even left the branding intact just so that Stance knew I was
serious about collaborating with Rihanna on her next line of socks.

I don't know that it strikes the same cool chord as an internationally-known pop star (or even a group of miscreant bikers), but I think I have a slogan for Stance's as yet untapped market; "Stance: the heart & sole of crafting!"

"The Monkey's Uncle" - Annette Funicello & The Beach Boys

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Crazy Crafty: Where the BEAUTY At?!!

Isn't it cute how beautiful people get to use Halloween as an excuse to play at being unattractive, charmingly dabbling in the seedy underbelly of the genetic lottery, casually day-tripping to the underworld of the grotesque in which the rest of us ugly mugs are forced to exist everyday?  In direct contrast, we are left to exploit the holiday for its democratizing properties, sprucing ourselves up just enough to timidly step out of the shadows, hoping that our efforts to improve will at least be met halfway by their sweet attempts to slum it.  Feeling fairly confident this Halloween, I was still taken aback when a friend actually remarked that I looked "handsome" in my costume.  So don't be at all surprised when I trade-in my signature specs for a turban!

Screen-captured PROOF!
Although I did such a stellar job at blurring things out, the possibility
remains that I might have left the comment on my own Facebook post.

Seriously, if it means wearing fifteen pounds of costume jewelry, donning a scant amount of eyebrow pencil, and fumbling around in a state of legal-blindness to make me look like a passable human being, I will just have to do it.  But exerting so much energy on my own appearance would leave me entirely unable to pursue other projects; such was the case when it came time to think about Mary's costume.  Usually, all of my creativity is focused on designing her costume, using whatever energy remains to throw something together for myself in the few days leading up to Halloween.  This year, however, I began with mine, completely burned out by the time I was done.  I used the distraction of a pumpkin patch to casually mention to Mary that she was on her own for a costume.  Just as I was explaining my utter lack of motivation, she bet on the winning piglet at the pig races.

In the form of a rubber pig nose, Mary won Halloween inspiration.
As soon as she donned her prize, we knew that when it came to this
year's costume, beauty would definitely be in the "Eye of the Beholder."  

While to me every episode of The Twilight Zone is essentially the same (anxiety inducing in its heavy-handed dramatic irony), even I am able remember a few standouts.  The star of TTZ's second season was entitled "Eye of the Beholder;" in it, a young woman recovers in a hospital room from a final surgical attempt to make her look "normal."  As the bandages are unwound, a lovely face emerges (not only free, in typical television fashion, from bruising/scars/stitches but also attractively made-up).  Strangely horrified by the results, she flees from the room as the "normal" faces of the hospital staff are revealed.

The beautiful people
Every day is "Opposite Day" when you're in The Twilight Zone.

On the basis that an early-'60s nurse's uniform could easily be pulled together from the contents of her closet, I committed to crafting a mask for Mary inspired by the characters in "Eye of the Beholder."  Starting from scratch was unrealistic, so I picked up a mask from the dollar store to use as a base.

Except for the ears, the feline face already had lines
reminiscent of old Florence Swine-tengale (above).

Trimming down a pig nose and sawing off a cat's ears was nearly enough to have me jump ship as a moderate carnivore and swim to the island of vegan delights - almost.  After the basic remodel, it was time to build up some of the broader contours of the face.

Tools of the trade

After removing the choice, tiger-print spandex from the mask, I built up a
topography of unadulterated ugly using paper straws, hot glue, and papier-
mâché.  To smooth things out and fill in the nooks and crannies, I employed
ordinary household spackle (also found at the dollar store).  My work was
finished with a couple coats of craft paint.

Mary took over by using things in her make-up bag to add some shading/depth/repulsion.  Falling decidedly in the "inspired-by" rather than "faithful-reproduction" category, in the end, I believe our mask was a success.

Proven by the impact of Mary's dramatically-lit, Halloween-night selfie

For all the work I usually put in, my favorite costumes are often the last-minute, homemade
jobs; Mary's wearing all her own clothes and the nurse's cap is just a folded piece of paper. 

Failing to take any pictures of the mask-building process or of our Halloween festivities, I wasn't sure that I had enough material to warrant a blog post.  My hesitation, however, was no match for the insistence of our pal, Kimmie, at That Girl the Wheelchair - and I quote, "I need a blog post about this.  Now."  Here you go, Kimmie; thanks for the kick in the pants!!!

"Eye of the Beholder" from The Twilight Zone (1960) 

I hope your Halloween was enjoyable and that it too left you pondering the meaning of beauty, reexamining the importance we place on it in our society.  I hope you understand that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.  I hope you remember that we are all capable of an internal beauty, a beauty that will shine through whatever genetic shortcomings we feel we may have.  Okay, not really.  More than anything, I hope you ate so many treats that your Reese's hangover was as bad as ours!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! WISHING that Halloween was "1,001 NIGHTS"

There has to be some kind of superstition that warns against revealing one's Halloween costume prior to October 31.  Somehow it feels like a bride parading around town in her wedding dress before the big day, especially to one who views Halloween as a marriage of everything wonderful - holidays, dress-up, ghost stories, and free candy!!!  Having broken many a mirror with only negligible consequences, I am willing to tempt the fates and show off this year's version of my tried-and-true Halloween pajamas (as is the case every year, my passion for Halloween is tempered only by my extreme distaste for even minor discomfort, i.e. ungainly costumes, elaborate makeup, full-face masks, gore, the inability to sit/stand/eat/use the facilities properly, etc.).  Any costume I wear must be able to do double duty as lounge/sleepwear.

Inspired by the vintage statuettes that take pride of place on the bookcase, the goal
for my costume was a character ripped straight from the pages of The Arabian Nights.

After seeing the rows of luscious pearls worn by a character on American 
Horror Story: Freak Show and subsequently adding them to the mix, the
resulting costume is probably a culturally-insensitive pastiche of maharaja,
sultan, genie, sheik, Gabor sister, and transvestite.  I'll go with genie.

Even dressed as a genie, the most important question I can ask myself when I'm trying on new clothes is, "Is this flattering or is this fattering?"  Swathed in at least ten yards of reflective, bargain-bin upholstery material, I think the answer is clear.

I blame the bird.
What's that old saying about removing at least one accessory before leaving the house?

But there was no way that I was going to ditch my greatest accessory by far.
For some reason, I was hell-bent on a stylized, avian companion.  I began creating the
scepter parrot before starting on any other part of my costume.  With undue confidence,
I just cut directly into my fabric (remnants from Mary's Christmas dress last year and
another dress yet to be shared) and hoped for the best - it actually worked!  The eyes
are made of buttons and rhinestones; the scepter is a brass ring with a finial made from
beads, buttons, and rhinestones, resting atop a length of gold-painted bamboo onto
which poor polly was rather unceremoniously skewered.

Managing to complete my costume a full three weeks before Halloween, I was left with ample time to follow the click-bait leading to at least two online articles dedicated to the prevention of offensive Halloween costumes.  Having received some concerned feedback on this forum about my choice of vintage-style "gypsy" costume last year, I sincerely hope that this year's costume (a well-intentioned, mythical genie) falls on the correct side of the costume-decency dividing line.  Honestly, I figured the most offensive part about it would be the fact that everyone encouraged me to go bare-chested!!!

Wearing the costume to the 91st-Annual Anaheim Halloween Parade, there was absolutely
no way I could subject the good people of Anaheim (home of Disneyland) to a nearly-nude
Mr. Tiny.  Instead of going topless, I opted for a "fleshtone" (although whose flesh, I know
not) shirt, removing the ribbed cuffs and collar and replacing them with gold braided trim.

I used the same trim to cobble together the remodeled rubber slippers I got
for $1.50 at everyone's favorite Japanese discount store, Daiso.  The curly
toes are finished off by dangling beads.

Fattering though it may be, the costume fulfills all of my comfort requirements as well as the usual budgetary concerns.  The only things I had to buy specifically for the costume were the slippers and the window-pane taffeta; everything else was unearthed from the bottomless pit of my fabric/craft stash (You may call me Prudence of Arabia).  Dare I say that my costume was nearly my "wish" come true?  Rather than a sophisticated, sometimes-sinister sultan, I think I more closely resemble Jeannie's junior-genie, Babu...

Intro from Hanna-Barbara's Jeannie cartoon

You only have a few days left; what are you going to be for Halloween?!!


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Sew What?! 1930s African Loungewear

I take quite seriously the requests I've received asking me to include more sewing/design posts into the mix.  But ever since Mary started her new career as an air hostess, I have been hard pressed to wrangle that gadfly, rarely able to find a time when schedules can be coordinated for fittings, finishings, and photo shoots.  Lest you think that Mr. Tiny's Workshop has taken down its shingle, please be assured that I have continued to slave away at my trusty Bernina, churning out multiple new looks just waiting to be captured on camera.  So, be not dismayed; finally, the stars have aligned, allowing for Mary, Mr. Tiny, and Fabian to all be in the same place at the same time!  Here is a Sew What?! about which I think all involved can be proud.

See!  What a proud moment...
Behind the scenes is sooooo glamorous.

In last year's mania for African-themed ensembles (see here, here, and here), I picked up four yards of a beautifully-printed African cotton at the thrift store for less than one-dollar per yard.

Wanting to avoid full-blown African overload, I sent this lovely, if temporarily
woe-begotten, fabric to the foothills of my fabric Kilimanjaro for a full calendar
year until it was ready for a return trip to the summit.

Making the ten-minute trek from our house, we did our best to scout a location that would be a suitable Serengeti stand-in (bonus points for not requiring those pesky antimalarial injections).  In the glow of Southern California's late-afternoon sun, Fabian worked his mystical, moody photographic magic.

The two-piece ensemble consists of a six-gored, maxi-length trumpet skirt and a cropped,
bateau-neck top with flutter sleeves and an oversized, self-fabric rosette at the neck.

The pieces were created with a definite nod to both the silhouettes of 1930s loungewear and the economy of '30s-era sewing; four yards sounds like a fair amount of material but not as much when one considers that a full-length skirt on Mary measures fifty-two inches long .

Styled with an armful of metal bangles, gold platform shoes, tousled hair and a
coordinating head wrap, Mary gave the look something completely modern.

And what's more modern than flying?  I ask you.

Speaking of flying...
The flutter sleeves were achieved by isolating the pattern of
conjoined circles in the print, finishing them with a satin stitch.

And so the sun slowly sinks on wacky tacky summer fashion

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer?"

Um...we did.

With a huge vote of gratitude for artist and model, I anxiously await our next collaboration.  You can bet that there is at least one autumnal ensemble in the pictorial pipeline!

Hip-Hip-Hooray!!!

As is custom, we concluded the day with our usual jump shot.  I'll give you three guesses which one I am.

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny