Headpiece Detour

So, what's a great dress without a great headpiece?  (Because I'll have to make that too, right?)

While I definitely appreciate the traditional veil and what it symbolizes, I'm considering a few alternate options.  Here are a few ideas that I love...

Through a Needle's Eye

I'm learning a thing or two about sewing.  I'm becoming familiar with the repetition of the machinery, the relationship between the pedal and the pressure of my uneasy foot.  I'm learning the pattern of threading the needle, always the same: counter clockwise, behind the groove, down around the dial, up through the hook, behind the clasp, and finally through the eye and under the foot.  I like the formula of it, the equation for supplying the main ingredient to binding fabric together--a small, seemingly insignificant--line of thread.

Thread isn't the only important thing.  There's the needle.

During my second weekend of sewing the Wright dress, I broke the two needles in my serger.  That mishap eventually led to me breaking a 2mm screwdriver off inside the hole that releases the needles from the machine.  I know, nice.  I'm just now able to talk about it. 

So, finally, I'm becoming familiar with panic--the quiet, still kind.  But this panic has enhanced the development of a new sort of patience, as I just have to sit back, take a deep breath, and remember where I'm going.  I picture the dress, that moment.  And I remember the process of all creative endeavors--slow, sometimes all wrong, at times far from your ultimate vision.

The artist becomes a master when he learns the medium. I suppose everyone can picture a beautiful landscape, a portrait with light falling all around features.  But the artist recreates, makes these scenes tangible.  Acrylics, oils, and watercolors all have a life and presence, each distinct and separate. Paint brushes and palette knives are unfamiliar tools, atleast until you've spent late nights alone with them in an upstairs studio.

So, I'm very much a novice, but I'm learning this sewing business.  The machine and I are learning our dance, and I'm promising to stop stepping on so many toes.

P.S. This is a great song that has kept me company. Enjoy Brandi Carlile's "Have You Ever".

The Dress that Started It All...

So, here it is.  The dress of my dreams.  Dresses have actual names in worlds far separated from mine.  And this dress' name is Lucien.  It's by Claire Pettibone, and there were only seven made. 

This bride is my inspiration.  Seriously.  It's these warm sun-drenched photos that float around in my brain when I think about my wedding day.  Lucien comes from the Latin, meaning "light".  Ofcourse.  

 

And here it is on the runway...