tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76143738528458657722024-03-18T20:17:26.038-07:00ooh la jenafashion. elegance. freedom.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-17288954736832740402013-09-03T13:52:00.001-07:002013-09-04T17:06:33.816-07:00Meet Your Maker: A look inside Jena's studio<div style="font-size: 16px;">
This weekend I bought a pair of jeans that sported a "made in the USA" tag. Most likely, the denim pieces were cut in layers of plies by a mechanized laser cutter and the jeans sewn by a number of people on a factory line, each sewing a small part of the whole piece. One person makes the pocket, another installs a zipper, and yet another produces the hem. Fortunately, after trying on numerous brands, I found a pair of jeans that fit. I felt surprised. Usually, I can't find jeans that are sized appropriately for my skinny legs and wide hips. But customization isn't the nature of mass production. </div>
<div style="color: #500d50; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #232323; font-size: 16px;">
In my mind, one of the things that distinguishes mass produced garments from "hand crafted" is customization. When someone orders a garment from <a href="http://www.oohlajena.com/">Ooh La Jena</a>, they are asked for detailed body measurements - and the pattern is graded to fit the person perfectly. Grading to fit is a time consuming process. Not only am I tailoring the design for each unique body, but I cut and sew everything in my two room home studio. I use a pair of sharp shears to cut out one garment at a time. (Yes, that's right, one garment at a time.) Most garment manufacturers would gasp in horror at such "inefficiencies." Additionally, I sew each piece of the garment together, press the seams, and carefully inspect the finished garment for exquisite quality before I ship it. </div>
<div style="color: #232323; font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #232323; font-size: 16px;">After selling nearly 400 customized pieces on my <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/oohlajena">Etsy</a> store, I have come to understand that no two bodies are the same, and that each garment is - and should be - uniquely personal. The best clothing fits like it was made for you. Mass produced garments, like the jeans I bought this weekend, are not tailored for the individual, but for the masses. That's why most of them don't fit. And good luck trying to see where they are made and who makes them. It often takes investigative reporting to figure that out. </span><br />
<span style="color: #232323; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #232323; font-size: 16px;">In the interest of highlighting the personal, human connection that hand crafted clothing offers, I invite you to an insider's view of Ooh La Jena's Philadelphia, PA studio.</span><br />
<br />
1) The drafting table. So much happens on this 6'X4' space: pattern construction, laying out and cutting the fabric pieces, packaging, blogging and - yes - dining, chess playing and wine drinking. After all, this is a two room space and every inch of it is set up to be as efficient as possible.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjSsBr2nVN5yJQxNBsgXcnsVSBgAQQyWTW97U7ZiCMnj68ygKryppE7X1NKN6waOw9bwNwU0A3UpJ4QXkmUHNjQrkTjzpAaOXE95vAYK90Z8ECcLgsoy7gKXvWqv7HDqno0NfXPTOb3w/s1600/hamilton+drafting+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjSsBr2nVN5yJQxNBsgXcnsVSBgAQQyWTW97U7ZiCMnj68ygKryppE7X1NKN6waOw9bwNwU0A3UpJ4QXkmUHNjQrkTjzpAaOXE95vAYK90Z8ECcLgsoy7gKXvWqv7HDqno0NfXPTOb3w/s400/hamilton+drafting+table.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hamilton Drafting Table (custom made for me by Artist Aaron Birk) shown here during pattern drafting session</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
2) The wall where I hang my instruments of pattern construction. It separates the living room/pattern making/cutting area from the kitchen.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHUiBAfroaMVBU8Y7eLA491jRqqSJ8KcACe_qKVSwMNh_q2jk8dzu2g55mfPQ0MjO4HVoNUTTg1i5Pi7mABEre9gvLtsiMxkmxsdB5DzlhYJKqdFH_1NAg429Mm0V78R6XM5-ZK0HNlQ/s1600/tools+of+the+trade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHUiBAfroaMVBU8Y7eLA491jRqqSJ8KcACe_qKVSwMNh_q2jk8dzu2g55mfPQ0MjO4HVoNUTTg1i5Pi7mABEre9gvLtsiMxkmxsdB5DzlhYJKqdFH_1NAg429Mm0V78R6XM5-ZK0HNlQ/s400/tools+of+the+trade.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tools of the trade: hip curve, 4 foot straight edge, french curve, L square rulers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
3) The magical, monstrous Chinese wardrobe where Ooh La Jena's fabric is housed. Plastic storage containers would not do for this gal.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2nOasF-PiYJssvTlmk00IZsrRNIj-xUNAcnVFCOLVPe7sde8_vvEQXu8cIgbIRrGpxSu6mQDr0zf2avnK06GzDSFr3YM0q7X8-YGj3NzBNaQxiZeYx12Cj38ILjubaR-_xd7cFPdagnI/s1600/chinese+wardrobe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2nOasF-PiYJssvTlmk00IZsrRNIj-xUNAcnVFCOLVPe7sde8_vvEQXu8cIgbIRrGpxSu6mQDr0zf2avnK06GzDSFr3YM0q7X8-YGj3NzBNaQxiZeYx12Cj38ILjubaR-_xd7cFPdagnI/s400/chinese+wardrobe.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These shelves hold many yards of organic cotton, modal, and silk. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
4) The sewing station. This area has gone through several transformations. After I sold my industrial leather machine, I needed a sturdy table that could hold both machines with plenty of space for garment construction. Thanks to Artist <a href="http://www.aaronbirk.com/">Aaron Birk</a> (who also makes graphic novels in addition to tables) for creating this sewing table and adding the leaf for extra work space!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_aFymZh0kRbkT_zqE-PT8XVDd4lZ_PsONtgAXZqORdRznSpFcGkGJG1TMNaWYw_VDqfKYqoQg7lwuK0DK7oR-pBQeoibJQGp0zRsEfYaGDTPIGCug3o4FR0MxebtSH7Eu632TKTv5gA/s1600/machinery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_aFymZh0kRbkT_zqE-PT8XVDd4lZ_PsONtgAXZqORdRznSpFcGkGJG1TMNaWYw_VDqfKYqoQg7lwuK0DK7oR-pBQeoibJQGp0zRsEfYaGDTPIGCug3o4FR0MxebtSH7Eu632TKTv5gA/s400/machinery.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I sew at a lovely bay window, resplendent with natural light. Lucky me :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
5) The super-disheveled thread box. Oh my.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsHWG8NX_QobgFFUR9l3w7ZHxn-Y1Jy0CK7BAL5uGQ4Dcgd1owjJPQMkVIwbN-ZB8oeEMfYQ22dERGaDyhb74PvbeKEAv4nrU9w3wlmQiHdtCeT-r3Saa4jiJjKA20Qjq6ZPVOcfUrOs/s1600/thread+box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsHWG8NX_QobgFFUR9l3w7ZHxn-Y1Jy0CK7BAL5uGQ4Dcgd1owjJPQMkVIwbN-ZB8oeEMfYQ22dERGaDyhb74PvbeKEAv4nrU9w3wlmQiHdtCeT-r3Saa4jiJjKA20Qjq6ZPVOcfUrOs/s400/thread+box.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a mess, but at least it's all in one place.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
6) The seamstress' side table. I usually have an assortment of bobbins, pins, scissors and my pattern instruction booklet at the ready.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFpdPSvcW_q2vMFrsIuIisJfu9AQhvLOnDigfn1TFcYRw7TBbT19xAiuiTgFp3jEtgNzlRPhJYxuv0NoNYE7elqQNpYaqm6KB_U4h4rMSlhlzj4zLydeNT2zc4otrRYGEF9EiII8ePX4/s1600/ooh+la+jena+tools.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFpdPSvcW_q2vMFrsIuIisJfu9AQhvLOnDigfn1TFcYRw7TBbT19xAiuiTgFp3jEtgNzlRPhJYxuv0NoNYE7elqQNpYaqm6KB_U4h4rMSlhlzj4zLydeNT2zc4otrRYGEF9EiII8ePX4/s400/ooh+la+jena+tools.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These little tools are right by my side as I work. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now you have something that most people don't; an insider's look into a custom clothier's studio. It's still clothing manufacturing but at a level that is more basic, more personal, and in my opinion, makes clothing that fits better than those that are mass produced.<br />
<br />
There is a lot more that could be shown of Ooh La Jena's garment making process. We'll just save that for another post.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-62517666593872167842013-07-30T10:59:00.000-07:002013-07-30T11:05:33.856-07:00Sketch of Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EckPro13sk5N81TsREBdaaaqNB8VuV08dcnZnkwVtFkS8rm2A3b97e6zsLs-Go2vmtkcYSI4gQQyca-MMsgyJqwU46fe7ffbwHm9UetVuBxPwrNGShdWYzY1oLFftB5UFOgQjk3Vgco/s1600/sketch_of+Dreams_oohlajena_blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EckPro13sk5N81TsREBdaaaqNB8VuV08dcnZnkwVtFkS8rm2A3b97e6zsLs-Go2vmtkcYSI4gQQyca-MMsgyJqwU46fe7ffbwHm9UetVuBxPwrNGShdWYzY1oLFftB5UFOgQjk3Vgco/s320/sketch_of+Dreams_oohlajena_blog.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
I made this sketch when I was 11-years-old. It's of a little girl sitting at a vintage sewing table, using a needle and thread. There's a cat on a rug, patterns in a box, and pictures of planets and heart-shaped butterflies on the wall. The lines are a bit sloppy and the dress forms lean crookedly. But it's not the artistic ability of an 11-year-old that matters; it's her dream. <br />
<br />
I feel so grateful that my mother saved this sketch that I had long forgotten. And that it resurfaced in my life at a time when I needed to be reminded of the type of work I have always wanted to do. <br />
<br />
Here's to childhood dreams. May they inspire us to return to what brings us joy. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-53753264482701658852012-06-18T09:58:00.001-07:002012-06-18T17:54:26.327-07:00How to Build A Vintage Clothing Display for Craft and Trunk Shows<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsfCFVeVM4ZTmXlSdyo2o3tQ3YH14AhT4h8MxjfYqZpSuiLPKSipdDZoVopzrN1dD_fxvHTnZ909PYE1a8NiBzH3X8O7fQVI0HV2BgWDfFZSxDJkaKG5oKd-bW1-Ugid7Bxpb17T-vBs/s1600/vintage+garment+rack_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBsfCFVeVM4ZTmXlSdyo2o3tQ3YH14AhT4h8MxjfYqZpSuiLPKSipdDZoVopzrN1dD_fxvHTnZ909PYE1a8NiBzH3X8O7fQVI0HV2BgWDfFZSxDJkaKG5oKd-bW1-Ugid7Bxpb17T-vBs/s320/vintage+garment+rack_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vintage garment rack - top view</td></tr>
</tbody></table>With the upcoming craft show season, I needed a clothing display to showcase my new line of Indian-cotton summer wrap skirts. Just any garment rack wouldn't do for this gal. I had criteria: the display needed to be classy, compact, and easy to carry up and down the steps to my second floor apartment. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR5Xi68D3SJvdcRXcPs2FvHfulW6go6JZqvbeTmXv2k2BC48sCoF2a2V-3ypvA5GCHNdeeiiMfI2glFJJNxxaiSw_6kzysHt5HCBJ22PL0R8f0RU-9Y1lbX0YrhRNsJrY_fqvXUcxriw/s1600/vintage+garment+rack_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR5Xi68D3SJvdcRXcPs2FvHfulW6go6JZqvbeTmXv2k2BC48sCoF2a2V-3ypvA5GCHNdeeiiMfI2glFJJNxxaiSw_6kzysHt5HCBJ22PL0R8f0RU-9Y1lbX0YrhRNsJrY_fqvXUcxriw/s320/vintage+garment+rack_1.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">full length view view of lamp/rack</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Disappointed by conventional garment racks (bulky chrome monstrosities), I decided to rummage through my apartment's basement. That's when I saw the antique lamp. It had wires sticking out and was covered in dust and splattered paint, but its solid metal and elegant constitution appeared strong enough not to blow over (a necessary attribute for any outdoor display). I wasn't sure how to make it work. But I know potential. When I asked my landlord, he told me his father used it as a stand to hold a clamp light when he painted. He gave it to me. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj34wCyyMHdr39Zc8O1tgyOaTvFGHtVzRhF99f5Ufnsaq4OLtZUy0UMTMTIt29EvswJlNtURw1c91pJbtnuLTZ_xqWcY0Ujs0-LDmsDPKjmeHcuXDpszIAZQM0T7FdWWwBay-5NDenrutM/s1600/before_pics_vintage_lamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj34wCyyMHdr39Zc8O1tgyOaTvFGHtVzRhF99f5Ufnsaq4OLtZUy0UMTMTIt29EvswJlNtURw1c91pJbtnuLTZ_xqWcY0Ujs0-LDmsDPKjmeHcuXDpszIAZQM0T7FdWWwBay-5NDenrutM/s200/before_pics_vintage_lamp.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">before photo of lamp</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Upstairs in my apartment, I showed the lamp to a Very Cute Jewish Carpenter (VCJC). He unscrewed some parts and we discovered it had holes on the arms that, with some drilling, a rod could be inserted through. VCJC got his drill and got to work.<br />
<br />
After a broken drill bit - and a few unforeseen but minor difficulties - the holes were enlarged to hold a 5/16" dowel rod. The addition of vintage door knobs drilled out and secured with epoxy added a finishing touch to the ends.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQn95jibc5xo_HSJ8fqwtPMepei6MLnxaoOpy2aMbSzBrWVjTJnSpb2dNHA-MeeV2AsAFehXL_Zeq9_Olg_L7J6sDC3bJp1CbRkYi16ONnZD-eo9cWYbga8yyOj1z0UtSGd40McDXFn4/s1600/vintage+door+knob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQn95jibc5xo_HSJ8fqwtPMepei6MLnxaoOpy2aMbSzBrWVjTJnSpb2dNHA-MeeV2AsAFehXL_Zeq9_Olg_L7J6sDC3bJp1CbRkYi16ONnZD-eo9cWYbga8yyOj1z0UtSGd40McDXFn4/s320/vintage+door+knob.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vintage wooden door knob attached to dowel</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKJ88Jovo470qZgzQL3hqfyO95mXSH5ecNdLw-umUpUk_bmCnz7ETuVrcCOQ6sC8HF8dq-17HehIO3JgmtiAZIr2VR-yqGSl6BD0bd2l08TSahj1v73DbebaKbMrsG2A8HBdcf8nDtps/s1600/vcjc_scrubbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDKJ88Jovo470qZgzQL3hqfyO95mXSH5ecNdLw-umUpUk_bmCnz7ETuVrcCOQ6sC8HF8dq-17HehIO3JgmtiAZIr2VR-yqGSl6BD0bd2l08TSahj1v73DbebaKbMrsG2A8HBdcf8nDtps/s200/vcjc_scrubbing.jpg" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">VCJC scrubbing with steel wool</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
With the help of VCJC - and baking soda and vinegar - we scrubbed the metal with steel wool, removing spatters of old paint and ages of crud. Slowly, slowly, our elbow grease cut through the layers to reveal a brilliant mottled brass.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTU5KIG8iF-Z5bIdt2xAppOzhdnJAjplFl4WVHZ43sOphJhgFdkGVeBrei-PyOWbrMrOr8fBXkc_-RWDltmYKd-O1R4Qq1-7dwmUkHH2zvhumLEtC_jkRG1VMy9sOy2q7BQ2U45iQ-wkg/s1600/detail+of+brass+lamp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTU5KIG8iF-Z5bIdt2xAppOzhdnJAjplFl4WVHZ43sOphJhgFdkGVeBrei-PyOWbrMrOr8fBXkc_-RWDltmYKd-O1R4Qq1-7dwmUkHH2zvhumLEtC_jkRG1VMy9sOy2q7BQ2U45iQ-wkg/s320/detail+of+brass+lamp.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">intricate center piece of stand</td></tr>
</tbody></table>A few days later when I set up at the craft fair, I sat back and watched with a feeling of satisfaction as people's eyes were drawn to the skirts displayed on the most awesome vintage clothing rack!<br />
<br />
They cooed.<br />
Touched them.<br />
Commented.<br />
Asked questions.<br />
Tried them on.<br />
<br />
One guy insisted on purchasing my clothing display - twice.<br />
<br />
Here are a few things you'll need to build your own vintage clothing rack:<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5_n8xZ48uQYqt0BGF-wALnsO8O3Iyld0AlUj87-pf-4GE0RwBZ0P193RDNA3ZnsylU3SgElbsgiHxN1FRtRSYFqNg131rKnUsbOlE6Tr93IernNJBm-Nrk8PtK_ytI2fHXG7M9nbnZQ/s1600/vintage+stand+feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5_n8xZ48uQYqt0BGF-wALnsO8O3Iyld0AlUj87-pf-4GE0RwBZ0P193RDNA3ZnsylU3SgElbsgiHxN1FRtRSYFqNg131rKnUsbOlE6Tr93IernNJBm-Nrk8PtK_ytI2fHXG7M9nbnZQ/s320/vintage+stand+feet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the petaled feet gleaming after the scrub-down</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<ul><li>Vintage lamp stand (metal) </li>
<li>Dowel rod (5/16" minimum)</li>
<li>Cobalt or Titanium drill bit </li>
<li>Epoxy </li>
<li>Steel wool </li>
<li>Baking Soda and Vinegar </li>
<li>Very Cute Jewish Carpenter </li>
</ul><i>Okay, so he doesn't need to be Jewish... but he should have a drill and know how to use it :) </i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-31906305809777531172011-01-16T04:56:00.000-08:002011-01-16T05:11:12.612-08:00The Ancient One of Florence and His NymphLate morning light illuminated my walk along <i>Via de'Pecori</i>, a bustling street in the heart of Florence. Suddenly, a display in a shop window stopped me. Mannequins, whose feminine forms were artfully draped in shimmering fabrics, lined the windows of a long corridor. An old Italian man appeared at the entrance. He beckoned me with his hand. "Please, come inside," he said.<br />
<br />
Rows of folded fabric lay stacked on immaculate wooden shelving. An antique loom held silk threads that hands from long ago never finished weaving. A floor-to-ceiling mirror hung majestically on the center wall. The Ancient One, probably 80 years of age, approached. <br />
<br />
"Cloth is the skin of the skin. The top-most layer," he said, slowly, deliberately, each word a precious gold coin. "It is my pleasure to find the perfect cloth for every person." He swept his arm for me to stand in front of the looking glass.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBN4axqrFZJ15R8Ra5NANw79mGsf4U3BOW67_W_ZFtp1IrtSuN3C1kaB0H3pvwLeaH_5POMYhdZna1Po5HVUmY041GPs2KxmLL2Vb_qD5j7T21eIdYDZL9yfex4M4dYHxp6X8FkjB38_0/s1600/Ooh_la_Jena_Florence_dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBN4axqrFZJ15R8Ra5NANw79mGsf4U3BOW67_W_ZFtp1IrtSuN3C1kaB0H3pvwLeaH_5POMYhdZna1Po5HVUmY041GPs2KxmLL2Vb_qD5j7T21eIdYDZL9yfex4M4dYHxp6X8FkjB38_0/s400/Ooh_la_Jena_Florence_dress.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>I faced the mirror and watched him shuffle to a shelf. He slid on bifocals, crookedly, but didn't seem to notice or care to fix them. After a pause, he selected a bluish-silver knit. Grand and gentle sweeps of his arm unfurled meters of cloth near my feet. Satisfied with the length, he tucked the corner into my top at the shoulder. I spread my arms out like a Goddess as he draped the fabric around my body. I was coated in silk and wool and nobility. He stood aside and considered me in silence. <br />
<br />
The Ancient One then removed his glasses. "And she is giving from her eyes a sweetness to the heart that only he who has proved can speak about." Dante, he noted.<br />
<br />
The Ancient One asked which country I was born. "The United States," I replied. "Ah....." he said with a long sigh. He waited. "You have returned to Florence - the navel of the world - to connect with the old ones. They have called you back to renew, to refresh and restore harmony. You see, there was a time when weavers' fingers wove a higher endowment, a higher knowledge into cloth. Our meeting is not by chance."<br />
<br />
In the presence of such intelligence, I find it best not to say anything unless prompted to speak. I remained silently smiling, like a white marble statue, adorned in cloth.<br />
<br />
"You are like a nymph... something between angel and human," he said. "Tell me, what do you see." The vibrant fabric caused the exposed skin of my neck and shoulders to glow. A garment appeared in my imagination. "I see a dress with a boat neck," I said. "Yes," he affirmed. "A simple dress to wear with brown boots."<br />
<br />
The portion of the fabric around my wrist held a tag. I flipped it in my hand to read the price - 166 Euro per meter. I gasped and hoped I misread it. The Ancient One sensed my surprise. "I will give you a very special price,"he said.<br />
<br />
He measured and cut two meters, then placed the cloth in a bag and left it on the counter. The Ancient One motioned to a leather couch at the opposite end of the shop. We ambled toward it.<br />
<br />
<i>"Now, my nymph,</i> <i>I will teach you the etymology of the word Love."</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-53754625907293700052010-08-06T13:38:00.000-07:002010-08-12T07:28:19.431-07:00Mr. Wonderful and a Roberto Cavalli DressI was dancing in a Center City lounge when a handsome stranger seized my wrists with his thick, strong hands. Instinctively, I growled at him. He grinned and furthered his caveman maneuver, pulling me onto his lap.<br />
<br />
In one-hot-second I realized that I was seated on a rare genus of man - <i>Mr. Wonderful</i>. The growling ceased. A date was planned.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBL7iPvN023yuB_6id04HZuhoq7BfgsjFc7T14va50bFLh2iSF2Y2GhihFxz6u6u4C_XEy56in4x10GTyxnZFu3gfFhfyx1umpRaKGketfiO19HSpPuC_6icGRIyxD5qdKMt7WjPHpywg/s1600/roberto_cavalli_ooh_la_jena_dress+2+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBL7iPvN023yuB_6id04HZuhoq7BfgsjFc7T14va50bFLh2iSF2Y2GhihFxz6u6u4C_XEy56in4x10GTyxnZFu3gfFhfyx1umpRaKGketfiO19HSpPuC_6icGRIyxD5qdKMt7WjPHpywg/s400/roberto_cavalli_ooh_la_jena_dress+2+copy.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like many women do for a hot date, I went shopping for a jaw-dropping, make-him-want-me outfit. I wandered into Second Time Around, a resale shop on Chestnut Street. There, among the frilly and the silky, the vintage and the designer, I found the ultimate thrift store find - a Roberto Cavalli dress. It was long, made of jersey fabric, and featured an animal print on the upper bodice. Flowers blossomed around the hips and hem. I made an excitable sound as my fingers touched that lovely, wild thing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">When I tried it on - to my dismay - I discovered that the dress from the knees down gave little ease when I stepped. It had no flare. And it was a few inches too short. Then I had a vision. The Roberto Cavalli dress needed some <i>Ooh La Jena</i> loving. I paid for the dress and carried it home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41qQgdTpF2P6Pk9Htlhn1DV7oSev_HbFn41YepGZOIaSauleVl1y_E3evGpP9K-Uvb4fro1qEap3lr-5T8t2bexycwNXu714VfdCLyirxEwP9NJ8BwhxZReOPONYOG6oO6MBg0J0g5FE/s1600/roberto_cavalli_ooh_la_jena_dress+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41qQgdTpF2P6Pk9Htlhn1DV7oSev_HbFn41YepGZOIaSauleVl1y_E3evGpP9K-Uvb4fro1qEap3lr-5T8t2bexycwNXu714VfdCLyirxEwP9NJ8BwhxZReOPONYOG6oO6MBg0J0g5FE/s400/roberto_cavalli_ooh_la_jena_dress+copy.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>Gently spreading it on the floor, I daringly cut four slits from the hem to the knees. Into each slit I sewed a tall triangle of black knit fabric that was the same weight as the dress fabric. The triangles created a mermaid flare. To lengthen the dress I added a 2-inch pleated hem.<br />
<br />
On date night, Mr. Wonderful took me to an Italian restaurant. His eyes followed my movements as I walked to our table. During dinner, he watched me eat. Later, at a jazz club, I tested the full effect of the re-design by sauntering slowly, in a hip swaying glide across the room. Oh-freakin'-yeah. I captured his complete, stunned and smiling attention. <br />
<br />
What more could a woman wearing an improved Roberto Cavalli dress want from a date with Mr. Wonderful?<br />
<br />
A second date. At my place. Wearing ... less.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7614373852845865772.post-63643802225990643812010-07-30T09:34:00.000-07:002010-08-03T16:59:11.945-07:00Why am I Doing This?When I told my former boyfriend that I was going to start a blog he said,"Why? You don't have anything to say!"<br />
<br />
Now you know why he is "former" boyfriend.<br />
<br />
But his question is a good place to start - <i>Why am I doing this?</i><br />
<br />
I am blogging because:<br />
<br />
- I need to get these words out of me and onto a page. There are stories in my head just wiggling around trying to get out.<br />
<br />
- I need to start promoting this fashion that is my dream. If this business is going to make money it has to be online.<br />
<br />
- I want to have a job that allows me full freedom. It seems the only way I can do that is to make my own job. Promote! Market! Do it!<br />
<br />
- I hate networking. I mean, I really hate it. If I had the money to hire someone to do it for me I would. But the beauty of a blog is that it allows me to keep my taciturn personality and just "put it out there". People can choose to read it or not based on their interest. And I won't have any crazy men approaching me and have to urgently exit with graceful strategies.<br />
<br />
- A blog is a great way to tell the world what I'm doing and may get people interested in me and the vision and could even generate sales!<br />
<br />
- I DO have something to say. I've started a fashion business that has a socially responsible vision. I'm building this business on a shoe-string budget without credit cards, loans, or start-up capital. I've traveled to India (by myself) to source fabric and work with a womens' non profit organization. (Talk about adventurous!) I've journeyed to Peru to develop relationships with artists and sell their work. I've had three years of sales experience working directly with customers. I've had a business partnership that didn't work out. ALL of these topics could be of interest to somebody.<br />
<br />
Now that we're all clear, let's publish.<br />
<br />
<i>It's time to </i><i>do this</i>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0