it all started with "sparkle"

It is not a secret that i love sparkles.

Everything is better with sparkles.

I love things that sparkle.

Everything could use some sparkle.

Except maybe greeting cards.

GASP

How could I -owner of more glitter than Michael's, wearer of vintage rhinestones, wrangler of sparkle ponies, for Pete's sake- possibly say such a thing?

Well, i don't mean actual sparkles, but the word sparkle.

Suzanne and i were working in her studio late one night: me on cards for the store and her on a class design. 

Good Greetings by Stampin' Up!

Having just earned a new limited edition stamp set of fun words in a loopy script she was trying to use it on the cards for her Christmas class. 

Every single design, prototype or idea ended with her asking me,

  How about sparkle? Could we use sparkle on this? 

It quickly dissolved into fits of cackling. 

I mean, all the other words are useful, but sparkle?

We realized there was no card that was appropriate as she branched out and started suggesting the sparkle stamp for every card i was working on: 

-birthday card? SPARKLE

-thank you card? SPARKLE

-sympathy card? SPARKLE

Just stop yourself.

Though sparkles are fantastic, the word isn't particularly useful as a sentiment. In fact, I told Suzanne that i wasn't sure that any card could ever be made that suitably used the sparkle stamp.

Fast forward a week to the class she had been designing. 

Sitting in on it, but not doing the projects, i decided to make Suzanne a sparkle card. 

I freaking love sparkles; certainly i could figure out something.

I wanted something simple that really highlighted the sparkle so i went with only one color, a stylized star and some actual sparkles:

Then i did a second version that didn't have the glitter,

but had sparkle lightly water marked all over the background.

BOO-YAH... SPARKLE!

From that night sprung the studio challenges. Suzanne would pick random items -often non-matching items- that I would have to use in a card design. 

Look for more posts featuring the results of these challenges. 

As with many things in the Nikiverse, the challenges started with sparkle.

ummmmm... Go Ravens?

It was a wonderful studio weekend.
The weather was hot, but oddly un-humid so all the windows were thrown open.
Cards were made, jewelry was designed, pieces were inventoried and, of course, glitter was packaged.
Generally the process of getting my glittery present under control is going well, but there have been a few snafus, like the bag of extra chunky that ripped and sent a shower of teal all over the table and the bag of standard grade that i stepped on causing an eruption of green up my legs.
But the biggest problem so far has been the fine grade purple. A lovely color to be sure, but i didn't realize there was a crack in the container when i started to portion it out into crack bags.
A big crack.
A BIG crack.
Given the lovely weather i was working on the porch.
Good news: i was outside, so i didn't have to clean up the studio.
Bad news: i was outside, so this:

Well. That's... festive...
 I apologize in advance to everyone in the Greater Baltimore-Washington Metroplex who will most certainly find a speck of purple glitter in their water in about 5 years.

On the bright side,
at least it's purple, right?

a hundred pounds of glitter

My boss Andrew walks into the store yesterday carrying a stack of floral wreaths.
We don't sell wreaths. This can not be good.
Remember my friend, James? he starts.
Oh no, oh no, oh no... James owns a design and decorating business and sometimes gives us his cast-offs to sell or use in the store.
You mean James of the horrible candle holders that i can't get rid of and are still taking up all the space in the back? says I.
Yes. Well long story short, he is leaving the country. I don't know why he's leaving, but i just bought about half of his showroom.
Did i mention that Andrew is not supposed to be buying anything right now as we rearrange the store?
Wait...  he interjects as my eyes roll almost into the back of my head. You can't be mad. Wait till you hear the screaming deal i got AND i bought you a present.
After some more discussion it was revealed that he did indeed get a really, really, really good deal and i was ready to hear about my pres-nent.
They are taking it apart and packing it now. I will go get it later.
What is it???? Give me a hint Andrew
What is you're favorite thing in the world? he asks.
Well, that could be a lot of things because i really like a lot of things.
Shiny, was the next hint.
That doesn't really narrow it down for me.
It will make you squeal.
Yep, that doesn't really help either.
GLITTER he triumphantly announced.
Glitter?!?!
He had told me before that James had an entire glitter section that i would love, so when it was for sale yesterday Andrew bought it for me.
Oh My Squeeeeeeeeee!
Later that day he got a call and said, I am going to go pick up some more things from James, including your present. You just might kiss me when you see this.
I kept pricing the wreaths and floral -we are going to sell them at HonFest, June 14-15- and when he returned i rushed from the back with my hands out in the universal gesture for gimme, gimme, gimme.
Where's my glitter?
Outside. Bring your car keys.
My car keys... why?...
I'm not sure how we are going to get it into your car.
?????????????????????????????????????????
Have you ever received a present that was equal parts FAN-DAM-TASTIC and horrifying, my friends?

All of those long floral boxes are full of containers of glitter.

Totally. 

Full. 

Of Glitter.

And sequins.

And spangles.

And seed beads.

And glitter.

After squinching and shoving and pushing to get all four boxes into my car and throwing Squeaky Monkey on top as there was no where else for him, Andrew turned to me and exclaimed Happy Birthday!
I had no reply. Speechless.

There is so much that when i got home i had to have my neighbor Chad help me unload the boxes as i couldn't lift them.

They are on the front porch as i have no clue where i am going to put 100 pounds of glitter.

Now might be a good time to mention that i am having another crafts yard sale on June 21st.
Free glitter with every purchase.
Glitter.

did she say fairy godmother?

Long, long ago (3 months) I announced that I was making a fairy godmother costume (mentioned it in passing in a small print post script).
You see, I was going to be the Fairy Godmother at the Soroptomist Princess Tea - a fundraiser we do where girls dress like princesses, have tea and cookies, create sparkly crafts, etc. The Fairy Godmother reads princess stories to them and leads the Princess Parade.
I volunteered to do it way back in November because, well... have you met me?
Anyhoo, the club owns a very nice costume that looks like the FGM from Cinderella, who obviously did not have any boobs. It fit great except across the chest where it cut off my ability to breathe; honestly, my diaphragm couldn't move.
The logical answer?
Make another costume, of course, because you know I am such a great seamstress.
Yes, I am so untalented with a needle that I was afraid to just add a little fabric for breathing room to the top of the professional costume because I was sure I would ruin it, but create a gown from scratch? NO PROBS.
It had to be long, pretty, a bit matronly and not look like a princess.
I found a great sparkly silver sweater set at Goodwill that was way too big so the matronly part was covered. Plus I figured I could just make a skirt instead of the whole gown.
After a long time in Joanne Fabrics I found lining on sale and decided on lavender because 1) I love purple, 2)  purple is royal, and 3) there are no Princesses that wear lavender.
How much do you need? inquired the helpful cutting lady.
Four, no five yards.
Maybe five and a half.
Let's see how much is on the bolt, was my brilliant, well-informed answer.

So I ended up with six yards of this lavender fabric..
Easily twice as much as I needed

When you buy fabric off of a bolt it is folded in half; when I unfolded my piece at home it turns out that it was about the same width as my height. I was planning on using the selvage edge as my hem anyway (cut me some slack all of you sewers out there who just gasped; the dress was for three hours with six-year olds and I have never made any clothes from scratch) so to avoid more cutting I revise my design from a skirt back to a full gown.

I like how the words my design make it sound like I had any idea of what I was doing. In fact, I had done it as a geometry problem: I need it to be this circumference for a few inches under my arms, then this circumference across my breasts, then this circumference for the length of the rest of my torso, then my waist and then my hips. I decided how large of a circle I wanted it to be around me at the floor (or the poofiness as I was calling it in my head). Then it was just connecting all of the circles with lines.
Easy-peasy.
[it totally made sense in my head. I explained it twice to my mom who used to design and sketch dresses when she was a teenager. She was dubious at best]

After giving the fabric a quick iron I assembled my tailoring tools:

pins, measuring tape, Sharpie and hammer

"Measure twice, cut once" applies to fabric as well as wood so I was very careful to pin and mark the fabric so that I would only have to make one seam: basically it was just a somewhat modified, graduating cylinder transitioning to a cone. (I wonder if there is a name for that shape)

Pinning all along the seam before cutting the fabric was the most time consuming part.

My straight pins were MIA so safety pins had to do the job. With the cardigan I figured I could just pin the top so the pins ran along the cut line, but where I was going to have run the skirt through the sewing machine I pinned across the line as Jean Kake taught me.

Hands down the scariest part was cutting the fabric.
You can't uncut something, people.
With my Grandma Craig's fabric scissors in hand I took a deep breath and just did it.



Sewing time!
Jean -the Quilted Cupcake master herself- had given me a sewing machine and shown me how to thread and run it since Home Ec was a zillion years ago. Frankly, I was terrible in sewing back then, ironing the side of my hand and running the needle over my finger, but I did great with Jean.
In fact I took all of these pictures during the process because I wanted her to see that I used the knowledge and machine she gave me.
One tiny problem: the machine would not bring up the bobbin thread.
 I threaded the needle several times, took out the needle and reset it, tried the thread from the back and the front, took out the bobbin and reset it several times, all to no avail. Everything looked right over and over again, but every time I used the wheel to lower the needle no bobbin thread came up with the needle thread.
AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH
I spent about 25 minutes trying to get it to work until finally I snapped and yelled at the machine, Oh yeah? You think you can twart me? Defeat me? I am a tool user, you stupid machine. I will make this @#$%^ dress even if I have to staple the whole thing together.
So I did.

Ever stapled a floor length, pooffy skirt? I don't recommend it. 

Tea time arrived and I donned my totally jerry-rigged gown: skirt stapled, bodice tucked and pinned around my bra and neckline rolled and shaped with a purple flower brooch from 1988.
With my silver wand and a bottle of purple glitter tucked into the sleeves of my sweater, hair curled and pinned with flowers and butterflies and a matching lavender crown I was ready to whip up some magic.

The tea was so fun.
As the Fairy Godmother I ended up emceeing the afternoon, making all of the announcements and such. The book a chose -a great newish book about urban princesses called The Princess of 8th St by Linas Alsenes- went over great with the girls. After pouring tea and assisting with crafts, i taught them how to royal wave (we did screw in the light bulb) and curtsy, which they did on command in the craziest parade/follow the leader I have ever had the pleasure to lead.
Of course everything was done with handfuls of purple glitter thrown in the air, over me, over the girls, everywhere. In fact as I left afterwards to go to work at the Parisian Flea (yes, I went in costume just to see what my boss would say. He about died laughing in the doorway as I put money in the meter and then asked if I brought other clothes with me) I looked down to realize that I was caked with glitter.

sorry about the gratuitous cleavage; that's my POV,
not the way it looked to the girls 

Later I was informed that I am now Fairy Godmother for life.
Maybe with nine months lead time I can actually get a gown sewn for the next tea.
Newspaper coverage of the event here.

you got sparkles in my glitter...

...no, you got glitter in my sparkles

Or so says my friend Douglas who sent a birthday box of pretty ponies ready to become glitter ponies or sparkle ponies depending on my mood (and in my color palette, too).

I'm gonna glitter everything in sight!

Thanks, baby!