Wherein I am Quenched but not Nourished

Some things quench but do not nourish.
I've got nothing against it, it can be just the thing. I'm all for trying in trying times. And as we keep ourselves to ourselves, good, kind friends reach out and organize sing-a-longs, drink-a-longs, sew-a-longs. Irrespective of place, we can "gather" and goad each other into cheerfulness.
It's like being shown a piece of cake and asked to imagine eating it. It's like a facsimile of fun.

I can you taste it?

I'm not complaining, I'm very healthy, as are most of us and grateful for it, I can endure, as we all can, a bit of isolation. And walking fast with music in your ear is almost like dancing. Almost.
"Blah, blah, blah, you are sad. We ALL are." Well, as my sister used to say "Just because I have cancer doesn't mean your foot doesn't hurt". No one wins at the misery sweepstakes.

Since all sewing content is now mostly masks. I give you a backyard promenade, Muybridge style.

Ever Your Nimble Servant.
Miss Brilliantine

Hussar-y Now

According to the internets this is my 100th post!
And as we all know, the internets are never wrong.
Well, well, one hundred. I can barely feel it, except maybe when it rains.

I've dusted off the old girl and replenished her supply of coal and whale oil for a cracking dive into actual sewing. I know! I found some tweed in the stash that I never thought I could wear in So Cal. but up here it's nice and temperate, for now. As I want to go a-travelling on a train in March, I though to cobble a suit from the stash. The red tweed was just enough for a skirt, I needed to find coordinating wool for a bodice. I tried all the usual places and found mostly coat weight wool, I even bought a yard which was much too dark and much too heavy (it makes a nice under-pad for the ironing board).  I thought I might have luck at a thrift store...and DID!

A light weight wool suit with a matching skirt that will live again as an 1880's bodice
.

Someone had a red power suit in the 90's that will live again. I unpicked the skirt and used the panels for the front and sides, the jacket back became the center back and the sides came from the unpicked sleeves. The wool is a perfect light weight and a lovely deep red perfection.
There is just enough,  the sleeves will be in black velvet, a nice contrast.  I wanted to incorporate the red in the skirt somehow and since I only had scraps left, it needed to be an accessory with a bit of pop, I though of the dashing sabretache that Hussars wear.
 With pants so tight where does one keep ones phone?

Waxed mustache, sabretache, cut a dash...Vogue.

Pockets, the harbingers of civilization. Some say it was the button or beer, we may never know.

I'm calling it a Hussar pocket. Not a thing, don't do an exhaustive search and come a-quizzing. It's just barely period in that there was a vogue for pockets and some did suspend from the waist, other than that, lets stay friends and call it fanciful. It COULD have happened.

It will keep all my important dispatches, a pinch of snuff, dueling scar paste and a phone.

Since the tweed was so heavy I didn't flat line the skirt but made a cotton flannel petticoat to go under it with another thing I had in the stash that was too hot to use. Snugly.

 

Cheers to 100!

Ever Your Thimble Servant,
Miss Brilliantine