The Busiest Time of My Year

Courtly Scandals is due to release on March 19th, 2018. My first book, Courtly Pleasures, was released on my mother's birthday, which made the release date that much more special. March 19th, specifically, is not personally significant to me other than it is the spring equinox. While I find that a little magical, what March 19th is, for practical reasons, one of the busiest times of my year. Why? St. Patrick's month.

My daughters have been active in Irish dance for 7 years. Most of the time that means practices in the evening and competitions here and there on weekends. It means wigs, shoes, dresses, and sometimes a fake tan. This is so normal for me that it's not hectic (although dance moms at their first feis might disagree). St. Patrick's day, however, means multiple performances, sometimes two in a day. THIS is hectic. The driving (So. Much. Driving.), the hair, the costume prep, and trying to get them to eat in between point A and point B - it feels like a race where I won't win anything but I'll be letting everyone down if I fail. At least this year I'm not making dance costumes as well.

That said, it's wonderful for the dancers to perform instead of compete. We go to retirement facilities, medical centers, churches, fundraisers, and wineries. The girls love it, the audience is always left in awe of the dancer's skill, and we moms can sit back and enjoy the show.

It's a busy time of year, but, more so, a joyful one. My second book release adds both to the stress and the joy.

While I am not able to post video images of our dancers, I will include here a video of a St. Patrick's day flash mob in Sydney, Australia.

Sure, I Can Make an Irish Solo Dress...

You see the price tags on the USED dresses and think to yourself that you have years of sewing experience. You even have experience in costuming. You can embroider, you can bead. Hell, you once made a dress that weighed almost forty pounds, a little baby Irish dress has got to be cake.

Well, it's not. It's so much more than a dress. It has to hang correctly when stationary and when moving. The skirt has to be weighted to stay down, but light enough to pop up with kicks. The bodice can't be form fitting, but should show the dancer's posture and form. The sleeves should always been in the down position and hang correctly that way, but the dancer needs to be able to fix her wig.

For my first dress I was worried about putting in a zipper. One YouTube tutorial later and the zipper was the least of my worries. In the long run, my biggest struggle (construction-wise) was with the sleeves. The detail work took some getting used to as well. I hated the idea of working with glue and opted to stitch on all the beads. This resulted in a dress that, up close, had a home-made quality. I still think it danced well, but I was too stuck in my own vision to consider resale.

This is a good source that answers questions about Irish dresses. I also found this very helpful when it came to patterning and applique. Then there is always just looking at the dresses, figuring out how the professionals pieced them together (this has been the most helpful). To look at some of the big name designers, click on the images included in this post.

I had a similar experience when it came to writing my first book. I'd always been a big reader, but didn't think, "Hey, I could write this," until I started reading romance (my Mom's Fabio collection). I realize now that I didn't have a respect for the genre or the writers at that time. Not until, years later, I struggled with my own story arc did I really pick apart what made a good book and gain appreciation for the nuances of the story building.

My first book was a labor of love, based entirely on my vision of how it should be. No, it didn't/hasn't sold. There's been interest, yes - but ultimately I hear that it's more like historical fiction than historical romance.

Just like with my first solo dress. I received compliments, sincere ones about how pretty the dress was. But was it an Irish solo dress? I'm learning.

My point here is that, from the outside, sometimes things look simpler than they are in reality. This is not new news by any means, but it's a lesson I learn over and over again. Knowing this has made me a kinder person, less critical. I appreciate the work that goes into making something great so much more than I did when I was full of unjustified confidence.

And thus, I am finished with another adequate blog post.

Creative Outlet

My first dress.
Currently for sale, btw. :)

I just finished my third Irish dance solo dress. The first two were for my oldest daughter and were true labors of love. The third was made for a good friend who was in need and I rose to the occasion. Of these experiences, the third was by far the most stressful. Why? I was making it to someone else's specification. Whether or not they liked it mattered. The quality of my product would be judged by someone other than myself. AND I was on a very ambitious deadline (one week).

Overflowing with insecurity, I did the final fitting and tried to read every micro-expression, gauge every raised brow, every assessing glance. Did they like it? I couldn't tell -- they said they did, but there was that momentary look of confusion when they looked at it, the hint of disappointment. It crushed me.

My second dress on left.
The dress on right is a school dress.

They asked me to make the dress because of a desperate need, and, because I recognized the need I agreed. The moment money changed hands, I went from a friend doing a favor to an employee providing a service.

In the end, the young dancer had a very elegant dress. When she was on stage she beamed and held herself proudly. When she danced I knew she loved the dress.

Let me be clear that I am not complaining about the experience; I'm detailing the stresses involved as they relate to my growth as a Irish solo dress designer/seamstress. The biggest life lesson here was how difficult it was to make sure we all had the same expectations. Despite sketches, swatches, and explanations, I wasn't able to explain my vision to my clients OR (worse) understand their vision/expectation. We thought we were all on the same page, but I could tell by the look on their faces that the dress wasn't what they imagined it would be. Did I deliver a good dress? Yes. Was it what they wanted? Ehrrrmmmm... not sure. Probably not.

My third dress (and first commission project)

I have my own perspective on solo dresses. First, I don't want them to look just like everyone else's dress. What's the point of it being a solo dress if it's a carbon copy of this year's trends? So far every dress I've made has been quality, elegant, and met all the performance costume guidelines (the one linked is only one set. There are small differences between different regions). Solo dresses are supposed to get the judge's attention, but I'd rather have that be because it looks beautiful on the dancer rather than because the dress punches you in the eyeball. I want my dresses to move well, fit well, and suit the dancer. Of course I don't want it out of place in the line of dancers, but I don't want it to blend in either. That said, not everyone will like my designs.

This ties in perfectly with my experience in writing. It must be a common thread in all the creative production professions. Making what you believe in compared to making what you think will sell. Communicating your vision and inspiring others to feel as strongly about it as you do... it's all the same beast. Of late I've felt more satisfaction in designing/creating dresses than I have in writing -- perhaps because with the dresses I can see them out there, dancing. My books sit idle, waiting.

My dresses are entry level solo dresses so far, not elaborate enough for Worlds (above).