Adventures in Millinery- Mining Felt

My first Millinery class at FIT was on Friday, and of course I was given (in our professor's hilarious and roundabout way) a laundry list of things to purchase in time for next class. One of those things was felt fur hoods, the material we put on the hat block to make a hat.

Luckily I had enough free time this week to make shopping a two part excursion, so I spent all day Saturday running around buying all of the things I could get outside the garment district, including a thrilling new bag to transport my wares in.

Monday, was for buying everything else, as garment district shops are only open Monday-Friday 10-5:30. City that never sleeps my arse. 

One of my first stops was Hyman Hendler and Sons, and while I at first thought I was in search of a hat block, the lovely and helpful lady behind the counter told me they carried felt fur. I dug through the large cardboard box at the back of the store, and came upon a beautiful dark purpley blue color they were calling "capricorn." I asked the lady behind the counter if they had any more in that color. What happened next was a hilarious New York surprise.

"Hey, Hyman!" she yelled up at the office on the second floor. "This lady would like to get another fur felt."

A harried looking businessman stuck his head out the window and peered down at me.

"What do you want?" He scowled.

For the faintest moment I was cowed and willing to leave him alone, but fortunately this city has taught me how to be pushy. "I'd like to buy another fur felt in this color. Do you have any more?"

"Well we've got like... 30 boxes downstairs. It would take forever to find anything."

What followed was an argument between the counter clerk and the manager the exact phrasing of which I wish I could recall. What I can say is that it was obvious that the clerk was used to haranguing and manipulating Mr. Hendler into actually bothering to provide his customers with the service they wanted. 

Once it was over the woman looked at me conspiratorially, had me leave my coat behind the counter, and lead me downstairs through a labyrinth of shelves and boxes to the boiler room where there were probably literally 30 boxes of felt fur. After telling me she'd give me a $2 discount per hat if I bought a dozen fur felts, she left me to my own devices. In the basement of their store. By myself.

After a glorious half hour digging through and rearranging boxes of fur felts in the boiler room, I went upstairs with my prizes where I was interrogated by Mr. Hendler once again.

"Did you get your hands all dusty?" He shouted down, this time not bothering to lean out the window.

"Yes, but I also found the fur felt I was looking for! Thank you."

"Good. Make sure you wash your hands before you go back outside."

My city she is

My city she is a fever dream,

she is a hot kiss on the mouth, she is

turbulent and the ruling goddess of my life.

And sometimes she is too kind to understand

and sometimes she is

a frigid bitch. 

Antigone

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine from Perchance to Dream theater contacted me and asked me if I could help to design costumes for their new production of 'Antigone'. Being a firm believer in Kevin Pollock's mantra "if you're not creating you're waiting" (and facing an empty post-catering season), I dove in.

Since I came into the production late and was hoping to make it with less than nothing, I came up with a general plan and made a list of what I wanted. Then I asked the actors what they had in their closets, dug through the costume closet of a teacher connected to the production, and tweaked my designs again.

Next came the part I know many designers hate- shopping. Combing through New York department stores during the week before Christmas was a test of my commitment to the task. I longed to be as well established as the costume designers at the Public- to have a team of assistants who I could send out in search of products to pick over, or at the very least somebody to hold my bag and strengthen my morale.

But I got through it, and after sticking things on to actors it was time to record the video portions of the play and I had to let it go. Plus, the masks arrived from Washington, and I got to help the company sort those out.

Overall it's a production I'm well pleased with. The actors look as they should, and the costumes help tell the story without getting in the way of the masks or the actors. A few things were changed from my original idea to the finished product (mostly because I couldn't find what I wanted), but it's probably all for the best.

I prefer to do contemporary costume design over period pieces; it allows me to tell the kinds of specific stories about relationships I like to tell. Plus I get to boss everybody around and make them try on clothes like little dolls.

Oh, and of course I doodled during rehearsal. 

I disappeared.

Are you surprised?

As it turns out, I'm not a very good blogger.

I mean, I'm not good at it.

I have 500 other projects I'm usually working on-

knitting,

cooking,

trying to get another wardrobe job,

and illustrating whatever thing has come into my mind.

So updating this blog,

which maybe twenty people read,

isn't at the top of my list.

***

Anyway.

I was just working on a show 

at the Public Theater

whose set unfortunately was totally walled in.

I love to draw whatever show I'm working on

even just for my own self,

but the only way to see this show from backstage was to

watch it on the TV monitors-

not so interesting.

So I don't even have any drawings for myself,

never mind you people.

And Jingo Was His Name-O

In case you had any doubts about where I stand.

Just in case you thought I wasn't a hipster yet

YOU GUYS.

You know all those trite pictures people in the outer boroughs

are always posting-

The ones that are a crappy view of Manhattan from their rooftop?

I just figured it out.

I can go up to my roof and enjoy some "fresh" air,

and nobody wants to bother me.

I can read my book in peace without being lectured

about Jesus, or giving to Charity, or when the world is going to end.

Sure I have to chat to my neighbors every once in a while,

but that's it.

I'm free to enjoy the Chrysler building as a 1/4" speck

in peace.

I'm free to have really lame thoughts about 

how groovy my new nabe is,

how awesome my life is,

how much I love my boyfriend,

or any other thoughts one has while gazing into the sunset

in peace.

Libraries, personal and public

My new roommates both work in Publishing.

As such, I am spoiled for choice in terms of reading-
if I didn't go to the library

AT ALL
for a year, I still wouldn't run out of things I wanted to read.

I mean, I'll still go to the library-

It's just on the other side of the block!

(The library is the first important thing I find in a new neighborhood,

after the Grocery store. The craft beer place is third)

But it's delightful to have a ton of goodies here.

However.

Boyfriend purchased me a nook for my Birthday.

Mostly I wanted one to read Gutenberg books- 

Moby Dick, Ulysses, Greek Myths.

But then I found out I can take out ebooks from the library.

AND THEN I found out how much easier

my ereader is to carry around than 'East of Eden.'

AND then I found out I could

get my newspaper subscriptions on it,

instead of trying to wrestle a broadsheet out of my neighbor's face on the 4 train.

The controls make me feel like I'm using my Dad's palm pilot circa 1999,

And it's much easier to hand somebody a physical book

to get them to read it,

so I'm not a total devotee yet.

But it is goddamn convenient,

And way easier to carry up three flights of stairs

to my new (newest of four this year) apartment

than six boxes of books.