Day one of Tucson’s Fourth Avenue Street Fair was a bust, after gusty winds blew our tent into the Jamaican jerk chicken booth’s Barbeque next to us, almost killing the adorable family running it. Day two was also a debacle which started out with both of my roommates/business partners waking up too sick to help (thank you to my dear friend Abraham for standing in)! Day three, however, made it all worth it. We had a blast hanging out in the gorgeous sunshine, sewing stuffed birds for our little girl neighbors and hanging out with friends and getting a wicked burntan (we were too traumatized to set up our tent again, so we ended up braving the elements). My outfits of choice both involved short shorts, nude shoes, and lots of color.
Straw Hat – Thrift Store, $2
Striped Tank – Thrift Store, $2
Pearl Multi-Strand Chain Necklace – Thrift Store, $2
Floral Scalloped Shorts with Bow Sash- gift from the peerless Neneee (Oh and Valerie, there was no way I was actually going to sell that polka dot dress behind me, I just put it there to make my racks look more legit).
Nude Pumps – Thrift Store, $2
We have been, and will be, slaving away for the Fourth Avenue Street Fair:
If you’re in or near Tucson, please come see us! Click the flyer to check out the bootie we will be hawking! If you’re not in the vicinity, here are some more delicious links from my About Budget Style site. Enjoy!
Uh, the tea, that is.
No one would want me in an all-girl British pop band, believe you me. I can’t sing or dance, I giggle when I try to look sexy, I’m not British, and I can’t even play a tambourine. Plus I’d have to get drunk before every show to overcome my stage fright, and then I’d undoubtedly trip and fall and put somebody’s eye out with my sharp elbow(s).
HOWEVER: I can and do wear short shorts. And that’s half the battle.
This is, my friends, the official unveiling of the Sapphire Cordial ‘safari short’. (I can make that singular, right? Everybody is always throwing around the word ‘pant’ to mean a pair, and sounding very fancy doing it, so why not?) Anyhow, the point is, I slaved away at these (or should I say this? This short? So confusing) so that I could wear them in front of a curtain of the same material so you would have to squint real heard to tell that I don’t have an invisible pelvis. See? It’s a lot of work. Now you know how I feel.
I rocked this ensemble to see the ultimate awesome girl band Agent Ribbons, our dear friends who were touring through on their way to SXSW.
As I may have mentioned previously, I have a penchant for neutrals. But that doesn’t have to mean a bleh outfit. It’s all in the details. A coin adorned scarf here, a four pound necklace there. What’s that, you broke/lost/got in a fight with one of a pair of earrings that really would complete your look? Go wild and only wear one! Gasp!
Don’t you feel liberated and somehow safe all at once? It’s like engaging in a little sado-masochism with someone you really trust.
Just in case you were wondering, the safari short will be available at Tucson’s wonderful Preen, um shortly. Get it? Get it?
Every time I take an armload of clothing into a thrift store dressing room, I am filled with hope. Hope that the half-price pieces fit perfectly, hope that I haven’t too far miscalculated the size of my own hips and am not about to waste twenty minutes of my life trying on fourteen pairs of pants that I can’t even button, hope that the cranky old lady that works here didn’t notice the enormous amount of stuff I brought in when the sign above me clearly says “Limit: 3 items”.
Often there are several things that look sooooo promising on the hanger, yet in practice fit like a burlap sack. Conveniently, I’ve been sewing since I was in diapers, so I can usually go home to my (read: Diana’s) trusty sewing machine and fix the items that are worth altering.
But how do you know if something’s worth altering? And how do you go about altering it? Well, ladies and gentlemen, that’s why I was born into this world of ill-fitting clothing. All my years of intense seamstress training have resulted in my figuring out how to take extreme shortcuts and share them with you. My entire life has been leading up to this moment.
May I present to you graciously: Jamaica’s Slipshod Tips For Transforming Your Thrift Duds into Thrift Studs.
Okay. So those jeans you just tried on do fit. As in, they button without any muffin-top side effects. Unfortunately, that’s where the good news ends. You were looking for a comfy pair of skinny jeans, and this pair bags awkwardly at the knee as though you haven’t taken them off in six months. Are they fixable?
Well, sweetcheeks, that all depends on how they make your ass look. If they sag in the bum, they aren’t worth the trouble unless you want to pay to get them altered. And I don’t think you do. Keep looking.
Wait–what’s that in the distance? The perfect shade of lycra-blend grey denim! And they fit your wild rumpus! Awesome! Grab them and then head home to your machine. If you don’t know how to use a sewing machine, it’s time to learn. Technically you could do this by hand, but by the time you’re done you’ll hate me and neither of us want that.
What you’ll need: Sewing machine, thread, pins, patience.
Step 1: Turn your newly acquired jeans inside-out, and put them on. All the way. Yeah I know it’s awkward to zip them, and you look like you’re dressing up for a high school spirit day, but just trust me. Check the side seams. On most jeans, the inseam is reinforced and difficult to alter, so you’re going to want to work with the outside seam, the one that caresses those lovely hips of yours.
If the denim isn’t stretchy, you are going to want to leave a little extra room so you’ll be able to get them over your feet, and, you know, walk.
Keep pinning upwards until your new improved line meets the original seam where it fits you. Does that make sense? Just look at the picture. Repeat on other leg.
Step 2: Take the pants off, being careful not to scratch or stab yourself. (**Painfully Hip is not liable for any self-inflicted injuries that result from our clever advice**) Your pants should look something like this:
Step 3: Have a seat in front of your roommate’s sewing machine. Starting from the hem of the pants (and making sure to backstitch), sew along the line you created with the pins, removing them as you go.
When you reach the holy intersection of pin and seam, make them gradually connect, like a pair of socially awkward lovers. Otherwise you’ll end up with strange upper thigh wrinkles, and that isn’t pleasant for anyone.
Step 4: After you’ve sewn both legs up, try the pants on again (still inside out) to make sure the operation went smoothly. Take them off again and cut the excess fabric off, leaving about half an inch past the seam.
Step 5: Put your machine on the zig-zag setting (unless you’re lucky enough to own a serger, in which case you know what to do) and zig-zag the raw edge so it won’t unravel.
You’re done! Turn those bad boys right-side out, wiggle into them and check out your gams in the mirror! SO HOT.
Check back for more sewing tutorials from yours truly on everything from appliques to zippers. Aren’t you excited, my darlings?
Last weekend was… as surreal as it gets. Describable in one made-up word: WARHOLMANIA.
The Tuscon Museum of Art is now showing an amazing collection of original Andy Warhol screenprints so they wanted to do something special for their opening. And special always means dead people impersonation, right? So Friday the museum invited Drew Krewer and I to come in full costume and full character as Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick, making a surprise appearance directly from that “Factory in the Sky.” We were even featured on the Six O’Clock News!
While Drew could easily sashay into the room with only his charm, his usual styling finesse and a spritz of silver hairspray, it took an entire team to get me in fighting Edie form. First off? The fabled dress by my beloved roommate and besty, Jamaica Cole of Sapphire Cordial (pictured in the previous post).
(Hair by Addam Moreno, Makeup by Lynette at Toni & Guy, Tucson – Thank you!!)
And, of course, the ever-important jewels, designed by my dearest Laura of Wingflash Designs!
While Edie managed to last about 27 years, I lasted exactly 10 hours – through the epic POP! Afterparty at the Rialto, complete with a Velvet Underground cover band, mylar photo booth, gallons of whipped cream, a Warhol Death Reenactment, endless dancing, and a good slathering of Tomato Soup. SPENT.
But no rest for the weary, because the next day we had a request to transform into go go dancers at the Eric Firestone Gallery. They had THE most amazing exhibit, including some never-before-seen Andy Warhol photographs. Unbelievable.
The gogo dancing lasted for 5 hours straight with no less than 4 costume changes each. So it goes without saying, I spent the last three days in bed. Sick as a dog. Like Edie coming down from a multitude of barbiturates.