Monday, October 29, 2012

to keep my loved one...

...warm. So below:


is a jacket from this past Winter. Which is when I started to write this post. For reals. It was during that weird time where Spring was supposed to be happening but wasn't. There was all this warm weather. Then cold weather. So, it seemed ridiculous that I was searching for warm jackets for Ely James but the darn weather was so confusing that he tore his jacket up. Literally. He tore his jacket into pieces thinking that he didn't need it anymore. I wish I had some pictures of what it used to look like. It was worn out and covered in safety pins to fix holes. He even had the elbow patched with a bandana. Ely James loves his bandanas.

In our hood, bandanas (or handkerchiefs) can be a dangerous accessory. When Ely James first moved in with me, he got schooled by a local teenager that told him to be careful about the bandanas he wears. You know, cause of that Snoop Dog song about crips (or do I show respect? Crips, I meant) and the left side and stuff.

Ely James wears his bandanas on his right side. Ok? After getting this lesson from the kid on the block, he took to wearing an American flag bandana. As a joke. Sort of. Although, this American "pride" could get him in bigger trouble, perhaps.

I couldn't help but look into this bandana business further, of course. As most things that have become fashionable, there was once a true purpose to the item. Obvi, a bandana was for protection from the elements-during the Cowboy and Indian days. Here is the most thorough thing you will ever read about what cowboys may or may not have worn.


Apparently, during the Gold Rush there were just a bunch of men hanging around out there. Men still like to cut it loose and dance, even if there are no ladies around! I found on wikipedia that the man with the red bandana was the female role at the sqaure dances. This turned into a big gay thing, I guess.


Certain colors now mean certain things-or that you, the wearer like certain things done. So, to be honest, those Bloods and Crips are dirty kinky bastards and they're into fisting and anal sex. Wow.

This all became gang related due to the system. The prison system-back in the 70's. I read that prisoners in California were given bandanas as part of their uniform. They had no idea what they started-the system. A new prisoner was given a choice. A blue hankie or a red hankie. I can't believe there was even an option. For anything. "Do you want a red hankie or a blue hankie?" asked of the man in jail for murdering his mother. "Your friend over there picked the red one and that guy, that you hate cause he banged your sister, picked the blue. What's it gonna be?" What dolts.

Back to Ely James and his ripped up leather jacket. He took a piece of it and wears it like this:





Now, can he wipe his nose with it? Not so much but, it looks hot and no little punk shithead can give him any trouble for it!

Monday, October 22, 2012

cape maker

Speaking of capes and dreams, I saw this:


 the other day and it reminded me of this thing that I have hanging in my closet. And more of it stuffed in a box somewhere.

I have a love for capes. I can never find them the way that I want them-almost exactly like the one above. I had dreams of starting a cape business. Simple capes made from amazing vintage blankets. Now don't go stealing my idea. Oh. That has been done before? Damn it.

I had a boss who made clothes so, she asked, "Why don't you just make it?"

So, I tried. Actually, she tried. No no. It was more of a collaboration. I brought the ideas and the material: a beloved vintage blanket. A beloved, moth eaten and very stained but beautiful blanket. We talked about it and then we forgot about it. We got busy. Shit happens. Then one day, I came into work and found this:





So close to exactly everything that I wanted. I remember being bummed about how little thought seemed to have been put into where the original stains and holes were. I would have tried to hide that shit. Maybe, she did not realize that I was hoping to wear this thing and not have it just be a sample.

Then we got serious. A pattern was made. Fabric was bought-not just a vintage blanket. Real fabric. My first time at Mood alone and thinking about something I wanted to make.

The next attempt:








Reversible. Duh. Still, not right. I think the arms are too long. I'm a tall bird but even on me, my hands are hard to find under all that wool.

I should experiment with actual cape patterns instead of trying to make my own. Next time, I could maybe use this:


 Oh wait. I have to re-learn how to sew. Fuck.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

out of the ordinary


I hardly ever just take something from somewhere and repost. This just had to be done. Found via Pardon Me For Asking

Monday, October 15, 2012

stunning





An actual Patou cape. I know what I was searching this time. Capes. Stunning.

This too has a removable funnal collar. I must like these things or something.

Monday, October 1, 2012

carjacking

I don't have a car but, if I did, I'm sure I would find this ridiculous thing useful:



Weird. Where do I find this shit? I don't even know. I have saved blog posts from ages ago and there is no system of keeping track of what I was even searching for at the time of finding anything.

Oh, and just to know, if I had a car now-it would be this:


Just sayin'. Maybe it would fit Ely James' drum kit. Maybe not.

Not far off from the car I dreamed of in high school, actually:


Amazing how one's taste does not change. I guess that makes me boring? Predictable? Oh well.

Reading the wiki page about the Corrado, it says that it was conceived to be the successor of the Porsche 944.


It's all starting to make sense. I am seeing the pattern. Here is the car I ended up with in high school:


My mother gave it away right after I finished college. I can't blame her. I had moved to Queens-where I really did not need it and it just sat in her parking lot.

I do miss her though. The car. Not my mom. Well, I miss my mom but only because I'm lazy and never leave the city to see her. Her name was Sydney. Again, the car. Not my mom. Named after the red headed crazy bitch from Melrose Place. Seemed appropriate.

Wonder where she is now. The car. Not Sydney from Melrose Place.