Princesses Don’t Wear Polyester

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who loved to draw. She would draw anything from animals, to her family, to the stars above. But her most favourite thing to draw was dresses. Beautiful flowing dresses, or shorter playful ones; sleeveless or halter; princess seamed, beaded, or corseted. Visions of these lovely creations poured from her head, fit for a princess. She didn’t know what these things were called, but she knew how to draw them.

Well all dreams must end, and the girl grew up and the visions blew away in a puff of smoke in the harsh face of ready to wear trends. It was the 1980’s.

Oh what an awful decade to grow up!! – at least in terms of fashion. Androgynous shapeless styles, and all kinds of horrible unflattering fits and cuts, not to mention neon colours and plastic jewelry. Ugh!

My relationship with fashion has been strained ever since. We were not especially well off so I was never equipped with the name branded armour necessary to ensure popularity. Nope, it was K-Mart or Zellers for us, and that was before they had begun to attempt to offer more trendy options.

On top of that, I am not a slender person nor was I a slender child, so that made things even more awkward. I never figured out why something I loved on a hanger looked so terrible on me. It was my size after all, wasn’t it?! (Don’t judge me; body type analysis and What Not To Wear didn’t exist back then.) I was a girl who was doomed to be miserable in clothes forever.

When I was in my early 20’s I had a brief period of clothing bliss as I was heavily into fitness training and was wearing a closet-friendly size five. That changed though, when university became a priority, and gradually, the closet went back to being an estranged, once beloved friend.

Still, over time, with age and the accompanying wisdom; with a still deep passion for style, attention to detail, quality and beautiful fabric, and a growing acceptance of my body as it is, (not what media tells me it should be) I have come to a place where those once childish dreams can live once again in my head and heart.

I hope, through this blog, to share that passion with you, reader, and to encourage others to find their personal style no matter how elusive it may seem, or how late in life you find it 🙂

My First French Seams

inside & outside views

the seams look uneven but I assure you, they are not; it’s just hard photographing chiffon lol.

Rekindling Passions

I have been struggling lately with my connection to the things that I used to define myself by: most prominently, my passion for art and design, both in my career and in my personal work.

When an artist loses faith in her creativity and ability, it can easily become disastrous for many reasons, the least of which not being able to produce ANY work, good OR bad.

So here’s where I was, and that’s bad enough when it relates to one’s personal projects, but when it begins to affect your career, you’d better do something about it… and quick.

Trouble is, how? When your work requires you to generate ideas and creative projects on a schedule, it can be difficult enough as it is to force the creative process in order to meet deadlines. At the end of the day you’re often tapped out; finding any juice left for yourself is a tricky business. But not doing so could be potentially dangerous during a creative drought – you have to push through in order to get to the other side.

My partner and I discussed this conundrum and me being emotional, felt a great deal of despair and loss – I felt as though something of myself had been left behind somewhere far away and I had no idea where or how to begin looking for it. My partner wisely suggested that I need to do something creative without pressure. He said I should just draw.

I immediately had flashes of my life as an artist: evenings as a child, sitting in the living room drawing portraits of my family… all the moments growing up when I dreamed of what could be, and drew them on paper… then blissful times in college and university in the few classes where I felt like i was not under pressure; where I felt at ease and completely in control: Life Drawing and Illustration.

I knew that this was brilliance at its most pure. It was the only thing that I could do to rekindle the passion I had seemingly lost. I have renewed hope again. I have a fresh sketchbook I went and got on the weekend to make this happen. I don’t care if anyone ever looks at it… it’s for me – a vehicle to find myself again. I’m pretty certain there’s a fresh-faced, wide-eyed version of myself eagerly waiting for me down that path and I can’t wait to reconnect with her.