Little Alters Anywhere

I had my first class.  It was a small, slow start, but I really enjoyed myself and the brave soul who decided to come to my class that I called "Little Alters Anywhere".  I made mine as a reminder of what I'm trying to do with my classes.

As mentioned earlier, I was laid off and consider myself in some ways unemployed.  I went to a  thing run by the NY Public Library about the stress of being unemployed long term.  I met many people unemployed for over a year.

The presenter didn't really handle the stress described by the audience and just pitched the standard job hunting techniques and was pretty un-empathic about it too.  I actually started feeling rather anxious about it all and was dismayed at tears welling up.  I tried to blink them away but as usual that didn't work.  I wondered how many others there felt the same, and it's been only a couple of months for me.

I felt even more ashamed of myself for feeling so upset compared to so many others I sat with.  Searching for a tissue I found the box I'd made earlier that day.  I was surprised by how much comfort it brought me.  It even stayed with me when I woke up this morning hopeful and ready to get to work.  I thought this class up for everyone else.  It looks like it helped me out as much as anyone I had hoped to reach.

My Very Own Fairy Godmother

I made this purse to go to a black tie event.  I had a dress, but that was it.  I needed accessories and fast! And of course, I had no money.  When the person taking me called and asked what I was doing and I told him, he said it sounds like I am being my very own fairy godmother.  At the time, I was impatient with him.  I think I was more than anything, disappointed at having to be my own FGM, again, as usual.

What did he know, he just had to come home jump in the shower then his tux and was ready.  He was a pretty sweet guy though.  And we had a great night out.  He made  me feel like he was the most lucky man there.  I realized the real work of an FGM isn't for me but for everybody.

So, to the nuts and bolts of it, for I can tell you, there is absolutely NO magic involved.  All that's needed is an ability to take what's on hand, okay, keep good stuff on hand, and when needed, know what to do with them.

Earlier, I had been to Bendel's on some retail therapy.  Looking is free!  In a catalog lying on a table was a picture of an evening purse that captured my imagination.  They were giving them away so I took it home.  I liked it so much I'd ripped it out and saved it.  I wondered what it would be like to have such a thing, to have an event to bring it to.  What must it feel like to have that look back over my shoulder?  I wanted to be her, not a super model, just someone capable of drawing the kind of attention I felt toward that picture.
I got out the picture, collected stuff, cleared off my worktable and set to work.

All told, a little bit of shopping in the garment district and an hour or two of work and it was done!

I was worried that everybody would see through my DIY make lemonade from lemons getup (I'd made my dress too but that is for another post) to only to find that I was one of the best and most envied women attending.  It was a bit scary, actually.  It turns out they were all intimidated when I told them I was a costume designer and heard about some of the things I'd worked on.  So I fessed up and told them it was all fake, I made it myself because I was a broke working artist.  They changed from being envious to admirers. I smiled to myself and thanked my FGM.  I should have trusted her all along.

Sewing Oasis Outside

I really wanted a dishwasher, but the building I was moving into only had a unit with a terrace in my price range.  I know, life should always be so difficult!  So, I've been busy making it into my outdoor room on a shoestring.  I'm lucky to have a Good Will Superstore close by.   It's been a nice reprieve from all the hours I'm putting into the computer.  Now all I need is some lemonade.  I hope to have a sewing bee out here soon.

I found an old wicker chair that I plunked down $35 for.  The quart and a half of green outdoor paint it took to seal it well cost more!   Two Coats.  It got soaked yesterday in a thrilling downpour and came out just fine.

I made this pillow from the scraps leftover from a big millinery project.  For an opera I made about 20 or so turbans in this beautiful stripe.  I couldn't throw away the pieces so I matched them to make this pillow.  I love purple and green together.

I found these white trash cans at a bargain department store for $2.50 and drilled holes in the bottom, snuck some gravel from the parking lot (please don't tell on me!)  The Hostas are from Home Depot for $6.50 and the herb and swiss chard are from the Union Square market, all together about $13.00.

I found this solar powered light at Ikea and couldn't resist.  It isn't really good for sewing but it's nice to read by on a hot evening when indoors are still a bit intense.  The table was another Good Will find for about $10.00.  I thought about painting it too but ended up just touching up the black.  I have some nice tablecloths if I want some color and this is working goodstand in for a photo display table.

Come Make a Mess With Me!

I've had a change of plans. My company was bought out and the new company realized the preceeding company had so trashed the customer base for my line they didn't want to invest the money and time to get the business back.  I like the British explanation: I was made redundant.


I know I should be upset, but aside from the healthcare access thing, more than anything, I'm more, well, relieved. While I'm looking for another safety job (note that unemployment people--I am decidedly looking!) I'm also going to start my dream job.

What?


Yeah The thing is, I've done a lot of really cool stuff but it's hell to put on a resume. People love my resume, want me, but there's not a spot on their organizational charts for someone like me and they want to keep their jobs . . . can you really blame them?

So, what I'm going to do is share all that cool stuff that I've done. I've had some really weird and amazing jobs:

• Taking Miss Piggy's baby to the hairdresser and other glamorous errands that taught me where to get really cool stuff in New York, some of it that even I could afford
• Encasing Broadway stars in cheap cloth with gobs of safety pins
• Cut holes in, threw paint at, shredded and for all intensive purposes destroyed perfectly good clothes and got applause and payment to do it
• Pour over tons of magazines, search fashionista color and trend services and cover big pieces of cardboard with the stuff I really liked and convinced others why they should like it too
• Sit down with a four year old girl to help her draw her idea of a princess and make it happen for her
• Make an evening gown in a day to take a curtain call for my work at Lincoln Center—talk about DIY fairy godmother

The thing about it is most of this I taught myself to do. The difference between the person who picks up a beautiful glossy magazine and me is that I didn’t stop at just looking and dreaming and figured out how to make it happen. I would like to share not just the skills I learned, but how to not stop at the dream and create something that gives meaning to effort thoughtfully focused.

Check out my Craft Classes at catherinebarinas.com so see what I’ve cooked up this time.

Want Wings? 2.0

I tried a bit of an experiment.

butterflys by modparest

the fairy in her bower by kokoro

I had heard that people were "stealing" photos from etsy online shops like mine with out permission and using them to make "art" at a site called polyvore.com.

fly with me by taintedpure

I went to the site to find tons of girls, well, playing dress up! Far from being pissed, I was intrigued. Then I thought, would they like to play with my wings?!

Woman in the moon by Citizen Kane

They did. Over 1400 of them.*

A walk by mora3

While I'm not exactly exactly popular, girls from every continent except Africa have found and used them.

if you dance with water by woodelf-luna

At the time of writing girls all over the planet have used my wings, many from countries where English is not the major language, many from cultures where what it means to be a girl is very different from mine. I was floored. Clearly, the idea of wings, the ability to fly, the liberation of flight resonates with girls of every culture.

butterfly girl by bloody black wings

And their works are astonishing, full of hope, potential, and beauty. I was not expecting this from a site devoted to fashion and all that entails. Somehow I had offered a subversive act that was still fresh, clean, joyous. I didn't know that could happen.

*I updated the figure as of 3/20/10.

lovely lady by Donna24

To the artists, I contacted all of you and got permission to use your art. Everybody that got back to me said ok. I waited a month and figured if you didn't want to you'd let me know. If you want me to take you off the post, just let me know! Thanks!

Want Wings? 1.0

I have a thing about wings. As an animal not graced with the ability of flight, I am incredulous at the vast variety of flight apparatus so many other animals use with agility and ease. Everything from soaring eagles to house flys! I want 'em too. So, I've been on an odessy to aquire and fashion wings of all variety and uses.

As I say this now, I'm thinking back to my earliest yearnings and realize this is no short term whim. I even adorned my first dorm room with wire form cicada wings (still a favorite) that I spent too much time on considering I should have re-typed an essay or two. A friend gave me a little box with some real cicada wings like they were precious jewels. I have it still. That I used an actual typewritter tells that I've had it quite a while, decades in fact.

My first real experience as a costume designer was at a small ballet school in my neighborhood. All the little girls of our neighborhood became bugs and birds. I got to make several hundred pairs of wings, everything from bumble bees, butterflies, lady bugs, blue birds, cukoos and swans.

Since then I've apprenticed with several of artisans whose work appear in everything from broadway shows, ballet, opera, and Disney productions and am still making wings. I'm lucky that for my work I get to play with my wings and lots of little girls who want them.

But I noticed a clear rejection of wings at about five years old. At first I thought it was because they'd out grown them. Then I wondered about myself. If they'd moved on at five, what did this say about me? I considered whether something a bit odd about my fascination and set in for some serious study of the phenomenon.

I discovered that it was not that they'd out grown wings but they didn't want, well, childish wings. Their flights of fancy required something more than pantyhose streached on a coat hanger. I'd made butterfly wings of shimmering silver and gold shot pink and blue, but these too, didn't provide sufficient loft.

I began to look at what the kids just a bit older were reading and found a real wealth of material from picturebooks to young adult featuring faeries and re-worked fairytales, all featuring flight. I took home artwork popular with older girls and started to mess around with what I had at hand. I ended with a set of wings with feet in the natural world in form, but with their head decidedly in the clouds. And of course, they sparkled, shimmered, glimmered with promise of yet unthought adventures.

They were in the store for not even an hour before someone just had to try them on, someone older than five. Eurika! They had the wind for flight along, they just needed the right wings.

I wanted to be Glinda

When I was small, I had a fabulous pirate's chest that my father had built for the four of us children. It was filled with all sorts of to me, then weird, old fabulous clothes like parts of my father's wedding tuxedo. The best of all were my mother's prom dresses. One was my special favorite. It was huge and fluffy and pink with sequins sprinkled all over. I would put it on and pretend to be Glinda. I'd turn my brothers into flying monkeys.



Our clothes just don't let you be Glinda! In playing with kids and talking to their moms about this "Princess Obsession" that they frequently found so unsettling, I'd mention my escapades as Glinda and ask them if their wardrobes, at least the portions of them they'd be willing to turn over to their kids were much fun. Almost unanimously, they'd regretfully say no, they weren't.
I think this is a large part behind the princess phenomenon. Children have not really changed as much as we may think, but we have.