Sunday Shopping Excursion

Jesse left for D.C. for a work thing, so this weekend I was left all alone. Saturday afternoon I gave my first talk to an audience of about 12 people about researching their historic house. I think it went pretty well -- they still want me to teach the longer 2-hour workshop in August, so I didn't screw it up entirely. It was one of those afternoons that I probably would have gone out with Jesse for a celebration beer, but instead, I headed over to Powell's and sat in their coffee shop for a couple of hours researching places to stay in Brussels.

My plans for Sunday were a little more nebulous and a lot less fun. I was determined to spend the afternoon at the mall combing the department store racks for a cute raincoat and a pair of jeans. I have been on a search for a good-looking raincoat since we moved here way back in September, but had not been able to find something that fit all of my requirements -- somewhat stylish, doesn't hide my figure (the dreaded tube torso), and has a hood (preferably detachable).

Portland is the land of rain, and yet every single store that I've gone visited has had absolutely hideous raincoats for women that, I swear, were fitted on male athletic models with no hips, waist, or chest. However, I hit the jackpot at Nordstrom department store. In fact, I actually had a hard time deciding between THREE different coats. Shocking! So, thank you Michael Kors, for making multiple feminine water-resistant jackets (with detachable hoods). Also, thank you Nordstrom for holding a summer blow-out sale so I didn't have to spend my whole week's grocery budget on said raincoat -- I spent the remainder on this cute jacket and shirt. It seriously took me about 20 minutes to find, try on, and purchase the raincoat. I thought (foolishly) that the clothing gods were on my side and with all the good shopping mojo, I'd coast through the jeans searching process.

Reality hit when I walked into the jeans section of the juniors department (juniors pants fit me better than ladies for some reason) and found that a bulk of the inventory looked like this. I actually smelled a pair because they looked so worn and dirty that I was convinced they had occupied the legs of a homeless person. Honestly? Why would I buy a $70 pair of jeans that look like they've been mauled by a rottweiler? Also, there's a very good chance that I might rip them on my own (the reason that I was in this jeans-buying predicament in the first place), so I don't need industrial rotors tearing my pants to shreds before the point of purchase. Hopefully this trend, along with skinny and stirrup jeans, will soon fade into oblivion for another couple decades.

I did find a pair of jeans down the road at a Nordstrom Rack store. Did you know that there are $225 jeans floating around on the clothing market? I had to wait in an enormous line to try on 15 pair of (Euro size) jeans and managed to find one pair that fits well. However, they need about 14 inches hacked off the legs. I could probably build an entirely new outfit out of the remaining fabric. However, because I bought them at Nordstrom Rack, the price was pretty awesome. Luckily, I am handy with the sewing machine, so the alterations should be a cinch. I can't wait for a (rainy) night out to wear all of my new finds.

Next step? Finding comfortable, but non-hideous shoes for the upcoming trip to Belgium and Germany!

New and Improved

I finished another dress today. I originally thought I'd make a shirt with the fabric, but liked the first dress so much that I decided to go with my momentum and whip up another. This one doesn't have a sash -- I'm seriously rethinking the bow on the first and may refashion it into a belt with a cute buckle instead. Also, I made the neckline a v-shape instead of rounded. This one came together pretty quickly and I'm very pleased. The only thing left to do is finish the hem (and find a place to wear it).

Marvel at the Masterpiece

My dress experiment is complete. I certainly can't complain anymore that I don't have a thing to wear to Ben & Daphne's wedding in May. The Vogue pattern fit almost perfectly right out of the envelope. At $20-30 a pattern, I guess you get what you pay for! I'm so happy with the results, I can hardly wait wear it out. I still haven't hemmed the skirt or pulled out a few of the basting stitches that are poking thorough, but even Jesse agrees, it certainly doesn't look like a $35 dress.

I'm already plotting to make another (maybe this time without the sash) and will adjust the neckline to be a v-shape or maybe even square. So awesome! Sewing rocks!

Tropical Portland

Today was hot. No, it was sweltering. Eighty degrees outside translates into a hellish inferno in our third floor apartment with southern exposure (that we were totally excited about, but now has proven to be my demise). I nearly melted yesterday and today. Even with two fans going, all of the blinds drawn, and the lights turned off, my instant-read digital thermometer (Americas' Test Kitchen approved) read 84 degrees. Not to paint a too detailed picture for you, but my outfit of choice was a tank top and underwear. However, life must go on; chores are an imperative. Jesse was coming home today from another business trip, so I needed to get my shit together. Dishes? Check. Laundry? Check. Tasty treat for his arrival? Check.

Despite the heat, I baked a cake. I waited until after 5pm to crank up the oven, but it was still a hardship. I'm not complaining though, it's a damn tasty cake. I stumbled on the Almond Cake recipe on one of my favorite cooking blogs, Smitten Kitchen, and thought it was so beautiful (and delicious sounding) that I'd have to give it a try. Also, I love any type of dessert that involves almonds, but have yet to make one myself. I skipped the strawberry rhubarb compote, opting for fresh strawberries (sprinkled with a bit of sugar) instead. Today was one of those days that would have been awesome to have a cake stand. The tasty treat would be a lot more appealing to the eye if I didn't have to make do with my wooden cutting block. But, like I said, it was mighty tasty.

I'm making some serious progress on my dress project and hope to have some photos as proof very soon. The heat slowed down my progress, but I am determined (and I hear the clouds will be back tomorrow). Hallelujah.

New Duds

Well, almost new duds.

I am just about finished ironing out the kinks on one of my dress patterns. Since my new favorite fabric store was having a sale today -- everything in the store 25% off -- I decided to take the plunge and get my first cuts of real fabric for experimenting. Both prints are from the Robert Kaufman line, which in my opinion is one of the best for quality cottons. I have to admit that these two fabrics caught my eye the very first time I went to Fabric Depot and I had a hard time resisting a giant purchase. So, this trip was pretty easy. I picked out the prints, found a nice cotton lining, got all of my notions, and am now ready to get to work.

The fabric on the left side of my duct tape dummy (white, black, and gold) will be for the dress. Very Anthropologie don't you think? The Isla Dorada dress was the inspiration for me to try sewing clothes for myself. I remember our first meeting distinctly; Ms. Dorada staring at me from the display window in the Pearl District. I'm certainly not interested in copying the design, particularly the ruffles, but the graphic print and simplicity of style drew me in immediately. Also, at $178 retail, my creation will come in at a fraction of the cost (about $35 for fabric and notions, not including the cost of the pattern or practice muslin).

And the fabric on the right side of Erin 2.0 (green and gold circles) will be for the shirt pattern that I perfected this past week. I purchased a little more fabric than necessary for the shirt, so maybe I'll have enough left over for a simple a-line skirt. We'll see, I don't want to get too ahead of myself. So, I'm off to wash up my new finds and finish up the last touches on the practice muslin dress!

Trial and Error

On the exercise front, I went out for my first 1.5-mile-run yesterday afternoon. I made it through the first mile and felt like I might hurl (I stupidly chose a route that has a pretty significant hill). As I was hunched over, concentrating on not losing my lunch, I decided to adjust my 8-week schedule to include one extra week (this week). Instead of attempting 1.5 miles this week, I'll cut it down to just one. Then next week, I will start up with the original routine. I'm not discouraged, in fact today is my rest/walk day and I plan on going for a stroll this afternoon after a snack.

After my run, I got right to work on cutting out pieces for my first attempt at making cute summer clothes. Cutting out the pieces is the easy part, but even that was a bit challenging -- I was pretty sure the pattern maker was on crack when laying out the placement diagram. I had to improvise a bit, but luckily it worked out just fine. This morning I made a stiff cup of coffee and got right to work on sewing.

Almost immediately, I was happy that I decided to make the shirt out of muslin first. Once I pieced together the front and back, I realized that I was going to have to make some major alterations. I had to cut the pattern one size larger than I needed to accommodate my bust line, which meant that I had to take in seams in other places. Also, I'm a lot shorter from my shoulder to my bust line than the pattern called for, so I had to take up the slack accordingly. I usually have this very same problem when I buy clothes off the rack -- I need a hybrid between petite and regular sizes.

Overall, I'm pretty excited about the outcome. Of course it's hard to tell on the dummy, but it really does fit very well. I'm glad I survived all of the altering and ripping out (lots) of seams. It makes me a little sad that my next step will be to take the whole thing apart so I can use the altered muslin as pattern pieces for the real thing. However, the uncomfortable afternoon spent wrapped up like a duct tape sausage has already paid off. I can't wait to get started on one of the dress patterns!

Inspired

I talked with my friend Lauren on the phone last night and we managed to gab about what's going on in our lives for over two hours! It's really hard having a best friend that is 2,000 miles away. It took us a whole week of phone tag to finally hear each others voices, and believe me, I needed a good chat. We got on the subject of exercise and she was telling me about how she started training for a road race in a few weeks. Feeling inspired by her accomplishments, I decided to check out a training schedule online that she suggested. It seems very reasonable. I wonder why I haven't tried this before? Ladies and gentlemen, I will begin training for a hypothetical 5K today. I really have no desire to run in a race, but need some kind of structure to get my butt on a regular exercise routine again.

According to the schedule, Monday was a rest/walk day -- believe me, I relaxed to the fullest extent possible. After running a few errands, I ended up at the fabric store again on the hunt for a cute dress pattern to try out on my dummy (Erin 2.0). I ended up browsing through pattern catalogs for almost an hour and then spent another hour drooling over all of the fabric choices.

I forced my inner prudence to take over and decided that it would be best to just buy a few yards of muslin and play around with fitting before diving right into the fancy stuff. I started out with pretty basic dress patterns (along with a simple blouse) and am hoping that after a few tries I will be able to do more complex designs. Maybe I'll get all Project Runway on your asses and yell Fierce! at the top of my lungs when I wake up in the mornings. Or, a more reasonable option would involve me becoming accomplished enough to alter some of the basic patterns to include things like cute keyhole backs, or an extra tuck here and there for fun. I feel that the more I try the more I learn.

So, today I will run 1.5 miles (hopefully) without dying and will conquer pattern piecing. I also think I'm going to make a cover for Erin 2.0, because I have a feeling that the duct tape will start to get sticky if I continue to pull clothes off and on her over and over.

*** Noon Update ***

I just got a call to let me know that the architectural firm was selected for an interview for that survey project! YAY! Now I'm really going to have to get out on that run to burn off the excitement.

Indulgence

Jesse and I were exercise buddies yesterday. We don't exercise together, just serve as motivation to get our butts out the door (then we go our separate ways). I am trying to get back into running, since I really have no excuse with all of this free time, but also because I need to feel productive and scheduling activities is the first step. I only ran for about a mile and a half, but walked for another three miles. It was a gorgeous day, so why not? When I got back home, I was pooped (and starving).

We ordered takeout from a local restaurant, because I have been craving Pad Thai for days. It was delicious and hit that empty noodle spot in my soul. Feeling sated after dinner, I sat down to work on a sewing project and realized that my eyes felt like lead at 6:30 in the evening. All I wanted to do was take a nap. Instead of giving in to the exhaustion/food coma, I decided to take a trip to the Fabric Depot. Nothing like (what feels like) an acre of fabric to revive the soul. I spent two hours perusing the rows for just the right fabric to complete one of my quilting projects. Everything in the store was discounted 20%, so I also picked up two jumbo spools of thread. I'm all set to go! It was hard not to go wild and buy tons of fabric for future projects, but I did get a few ideas for what might come next.

While looking for just the right fabric, I stumbled on the pattern books and spent about an hour checking out what's new for spring and summer. I was pleasantly surprised to find multiple patterns that were really cute. This morning I pulled out a couple of books that I've had for a while to study up on how to fit a pattern and measure myself properly. I admit, the covers of the books are hideous, but there's a lot of great information inside on how to make clothing patterns fit well (so they don't look homemade). I've had my eye on a few cute summer dresses at Anthropologie, but have a hard time stomaching the $170-260 price tag for a basic cotton shift. The thought of making something that I'll actually wear is pretty cool, but the process seems a little daunting. I have to admit that without a dress form, it's going to be a little difficult. However, if I can conquer curve piecing in quilting then I can certainly manage darts and princess seams! Maybe I'll try to enlist Jesse to help with the fitting.

I do have a wedding coming up at the end of May. (Wheels in head turning.)

Friday Night, or Why I Am Not Hip Part 2

We hopped on the #20 bus to Doug Fir on Friday night and were chatting about the concert and our dinner and how sweet it was to get out for an evening. We sat in two empty seats near the back of the bus, right behind a plastic partition that separates the lower level and the stairs. Unbeknownst to me, my feet were wreaking havoc on a young man's soul as we enjoyed our ride down Burnside. Just as we crossed the bridge he ripped off his headphones (that were blaring music) and yelled at Jesse to stop kicking partition because he could feel every kick on his body and it was driving him "batshit crazy" (I think he threw in a fuck or two for good measure).

Ok, first, Jesse wasn't kicking the partition, I was -- the space was tight and I guess I was shuffling my feet around. Secondly, the jerk-face was leaning on the partition and lounging over four seats like a couch, so if he sat properly in his chair this wouldn't have been a problem. Finally, there was a bus full of empty seats that he could have moved to, but instead chose to yell at a perfect stranger. I didn't say anything, and neither did Jesse, because clearly he was crazy. However, I couldn't help tormenting him just a little for being such a little shit. We only had about four stops to go, so intermittently I would kick the partition really hard and would see his shoulders tense up. Then, as we neared our bus stop and stood up to leave, I made sure to do a drum roll with my feet. I know, I'm also a jerk, but it was fun.

As I mentioned earlier, my concert at Doug Fir was sold out so we walked over to the East End determined to have a fun night out. People watching was an experience. There were quite a few more dudes than ladies at the East End and they were all dolled up in their Friday night best. Clearly, I am no fashion expert when it comes to what the cool kids are wearing these days and was puzzled to find a surprising number of men walking around dressed as early 19th Century country gentry. If you swapped out the breeches for a pair of insanely form-fitting black jeans (tight to the point of possibly having to grease their ankles to slide them on) and cut off the tails on their waist coat this figure would be just about right. As a form of entertainment (for myself), I started imagining which A&E miniseries they would be most suited for, if I had full control of casting.

Most of the characters were not dashing like Matthew Macfayden as Mr. Darcy, but were more along the lines of A&E's version of Mr. Knightley -- complete with awful hat hair, but lacking the top hat as an excuse. I was pleasantly surprised when the lead singer of the second band turned out to be the guy I pointed out as Mr. Willoughby (good looking, but a bit of a cad) from Sense and Sensibility. I have no idea what he's like in real life, but in my East End narrative, he definitely will jilt Marianne (dancing seductively in front of the crowd) for a chick with a giant yearly allowance.

Since I am an old lady, around 12:30 I was ready to go home, but needed swing by the restroom before our bus ride back to the northwest. The line was insanely long and I found myself standing behind another "man of leisure" who was a dead ringer for Mr. Collins (the buffoonish clergyman from Pride and Prejudice). I think he caught me staring at him and he asked me if it was normal for four women to go to the bathroom at a time. This was as we watched a second group of ladies exit together from the single-toilet restroom. I shrugged my shoulders and told him that sometimes it helps to hold hands while you pee. He nodded his head (in earnest) and stroked an errant hair from my face. Really. He touched my hair. Mr. Collins then asked how I kept it so straight and shiny and complained about the little curls that were springing up around his ears from the humidity. I told him Static Guard. He adjusted his (popped) collar and seemed indignant about his styling product that cost a fortune, made his hair look unwashed, and yet would still not contain his boyish curls. I told him his curls were charming and he let me cut him in line for the bathroom.

Maybe Mr. Collins isn't such a boor after all. Weird, yes, but a perfect gentleman.

Friday Date Night or, Why I Am Not Hip Part 1

This was an awesome Friday. We had delicious food, good drinks, and great entertainment. I have to say that this may have been one of the better evenings that we've spent in Portland so far. Jesse and I made a pizza that was surprisingly good. We had drinks that were delicious. And we went to a concert that was sold out, but ended up at another concert that was pretty cool.

Despite how awesome I think that I am at home, tonight's concert venue solidified that a) I am old b) I am totally not hip and c) if given enough bourbon I can envision a rich fantasy world that nullifies both (a) and (b). But first, the part where I am a rockstar and my husband is a total dork -- in our own apartment making dinner.

I made the pizza dough earlier in the day and Jesse helped out by chopping onions, mushrooms, and olives for the topping. He then proceeded to make a killer pizza sauce while I figured out the Portland bus schedules (to get to our initial concert). His chopping technique is only intensified by his sense of style in the kitchen. Not a tear was shed over onions this Friday night.

In D.C., we often held true to our "pizza Friday" tradition by cutting out of work a little early and getting the happy hour special at Duccinis. Since we have yet to find such a deal in Portland, we decided to take a stab at our own version at home. Miraculously, the pizza dough turned out really well and I can't imagine a more fabulous tasting alternative. In fact, we have plenty left over for breakfast tomorrow. Both Jesse and I can't wait to go to bed so morning will come that much faster!

After dinner, Jesse prepared a little treat to keep us going through the concert -- two glasses of "Cunningham's London Fog." It consists of really strong coffee, bourbon and vanilla ice cream. Once given a half-hearted stir, it turns into a delicious, creamy treat. As we enjoyed our pre-concert beverages, we talked about the day and how I managed to convince Jesse into escorting me to an all-woman-singer concert.

Then, the night took a turn. We arrived at the Doug Fir to a sold out concert -- MY all-woman-singer concert. So, we walked down the street and ended up at the East End to see a band that Nightrain recommended earlier in the week. We headed to the bar, grabbed our drinks, and retired on a couch to people watch. It was at that point that I realized how much I missed in D.C. (in terms of the 'eclectic' hipster youth) and how un-hip I really am.

Look, I acknowledge the fact that I am an old man at heart, but seriously, I was out of my league this evening. I didn't have the right (Daniel Vosovic) hair cut, my jeans were not nearly tight enough (or awkwardly hung on my butt), I lacked a studded (and/or giant white) belt to hold up my non-tight/awkwardly fitting pants. Oh also, my face was not pouty, my feet didn't turn inward when I danced, my shoes weren't flat enough, and I was missing a bracelet (or fifteen) on my arms. Don't get me wrong, Daniel Vosovic rocks the coif, but it's not for everyone. And I do mean EVERYONE.

So, that concludes why Brasilliant is not hip Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2, which includes: provoking a jerk-face on the #20 Trimet bus (in my own passive aggressive way), my comparative (and pictorial) analysis on hipster style and Jane Austen characters, and a colorful conversation from the bathroom queue.

Goodnight. And Happy Friday.

In the Papal Fashion

I think I mentioned earlier that the Pope is in town this week and the city is all aflutter. I guess it's a pretty big deal, since this is only the second time a Pope has visited the White House. Helicopters, motorcades, and endless streams of buses are transporting (very important) people all over town. I wish someone would enforce a noise ordinance or two, because the choppers, and sirens, and yelling has to stop! How is a lady supposed to get any work done when ambulances are screaming through Dupont Circle every 5 minutes? Anyway, I didn't bother to go out to see the spectacle yesterday morning, knowing full well that there would be more than enough photos to peruse on the internet. And there were.

Apparently, people were gathering on Pennsylvania Avenue at 9am and waiting over three hours to see the Popemobile go by. To a lot of that same crowd's disappointment, the Pope cruised along at a rather speedy clip (in what is quite possibly the most ridiculous-looking vehicle ever invented). If only the general public knew that on the other side of the car is a giant wind-up key. The Secret Service probably cranked it a little too hard, so it zoomed right up Pennsylvania rather than cruising at a moderate, more Popely (Papal?) speed. I hear that once the car reached Rock Creek Parkway (out of the public eye) it started to do random stunts - like spinning in circles and popping wheelies. Oh god, I'm laughing out loud here in the office. Is the Popemobile sacrosanct? I'm going to Hell aren't I?

Aside from learning a whole host of new words like "apostolic" and "nunciature," I think the most impressive thing that I encountered was this photo.

Look at those sassy red shoes. The Pope's garb may be a time-honored tradition (as we found through the unauthorized Pope bobble head controversy), but damn, that's one stylish old dude. I just wish the press would start capturing him in a pose where he's not waving two arms around like a zombie.

The Indignities of Job Hunting

In March, we set out to purchase Jesse a new suit for upcoming interviews and to spruce up his business wardrobe. We decided to take a trip to Men's Wearhouse since it was the store most likely to have a large selection of styles and sizes. The sales clerk who greeted us was quite enthusiastic and immediately was able to tell Jesse's coat and shirt size just by looking at him. I was impressed. He pulled out a few suits based on what we described, and within minutes we were sold - a dark grey pinstripe and a brown suit. The jackets fit perfectly. The pants, well, needed some work.

When Jesse first walked out of the dressing room I averted my eyes in horror. They left very little to the imagination. He bravely hopped up on the fitting platform to take a look at the damage. The waist was just about the only thing on the pants that didn't need fixing. The seat seams were firmly lodged in his unmentionable areas, which was undoubtedly caused by the fact that the crotch was light years too short. Due to the shortness of the inseam, when he pulled the pants up to where they should have rested on his waist, we got quite a show. I seem to remember a similar situation at the Men's Warehouse in Santa Cruz when Graham was trying on his first suit. To aleviate some of the tension, Jesse firmly slapped his butt (as any older brother would do), sending the poor sales girl running. Where was Graham when we needed him?

The sales clerk called on the tailor, a nearly deaf man who spoke very little, to take measurements for hem length and to solve the bathing suit region crisis. I tried reinforce through hand motions the utter vulgarity of the pants situation - flailing and gesticulating toward the zipper region. The tailor chalked up the pants, making marks on the seat, which I could only imagine meant "give this poor boy some relief!"

Our third trip was a success, and Jesse is now the owner of two really good-looking suits. The solution was a simple (tiny) gusset to ease the tension that was causing all the problems. He mused on our walk to the car about how there used to be this company in Santa Cruz called Chi Pants that was known for their comfort-fit garments. Had they not gone out of business after the 1989 earthquake, we joked that he could be their new spokesperson/model at Men's Wearhouse for the comfort gusset. We were all set to begin marketing the "Hey Look at My Crotch" campaign, but then found out that we were are about seven years too late. It's already been tried, and looks to have failed. Either way, his body did feel like smiling.

To do this week: Capture Jesse frolicking in his new Chi Suits.