Monday, October 17, 2011

Costume crisis

Evening all, hope all is well with you and yours.
The weekend was pretty interesting, a first trip into Paris on Saturday to try and get things for my costume, on Friday Mnsieur Gaulier gave everyone in class a costume, moi je suis Obelix.

Obelix, obelix obelix, where are you hiding?

Possibly in march Montreuil, so to Montreuil.
So with hand in pocket gripping wallet I set out among the stoteholders and bargain hunting public....
Here Obelix obelix, where are you my little Obelix, is hee here amongst the second hand jackets and trousers?
Non Obelix no est ici.

How about there with the bric-a brac and dusty books?
Maybe with the pot and pan man? A helmet perhaps?
Non. Too small for my melon.

Suddenly a brain flash as I pass the fabric stall.
Yes! Lightning has streaked across my imagination, c'est un bon idee. A wide smile fixes itself to my face.

I'll make the costume from scratch myself.
I leave the market with a new second hand suitcase, metres of blue and white fabric and armfulls of red wool for Obelix's moustache and hair.
I also have a plan for a silver foil helmet.

Ha ha ha, formidable.
Wait till they get a load of this in class on Monday.

Drinking with friends I watch Saturday night float down the Seine
Due to works on the RER (train line) it takes a tipsy  3 hours to get home.

Wake up at 11.
Breakfast till 11:30
Back in the room I take out the cloth, needles, cotton and wool.
Suddenly the realisation of the challenge I have set myself sits on the floor in front of me.
The last time I sewed anything was in a junior school art class.
Last night someone mentioned something about making a pattern.
A pattern?
Memories of fittings at drama school surface.
Inside leg.
Ourside leg.
Now what?
I decide to approach this scientifically....
I look at my jeans hung over the armoir door.
okay, jeans, they seem to be made of 4 pieces, 2 for each leg.
Right. I decide I'll do the same thing.
I spot a black biro and without a seconds thought draw a thin black line down from chest to my naval. Okay this is my centre line.
I do the same on my inside leg and another line going up from the outside of my ankle to under my arm pit.
Now for the measurements...
Luckily Christine has dropped me off her sewing kit which contains a tape measure.
I measure accross between the 2 lines, first on the front of my body and then on the back.
"Maarrrk. dejuner!"
Ah Boef bourgignon, Beef and vegetables soaked overnight in a strong red wine.

After the late lunch I make my excuses re-enter the sweatshop and continue to measure and transfer them onto sheets of newspaper that I have cellotaped together.

It takes hours but by about 9 I have something resembling a pattern.
I pin it to the fabric and cut the shapes out.
All 4 pieces cut out I stand back to admire my handiwork.
It really doesn't look like a pair of trousers yet. 
I pin the 2 front pieces together and then the 2 back pieces.
Then I start to sew.
And sew.
And sew.
At 11:30 my aching back tells me it is time to retire to bed.
I have so far managed to stitch half of the front 2 piueces together.
I am so not going to be ready for class tomorrow.
I don't know if this will be a good clowns costume but for sure it will look like a costume made by a clown.

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