Moving Day!

Well folks, I've finally decided on a name for my blog:  Toribird's Song.

"Victoria's Blog of Undetermined Wonder" was meant to be a placeholder of sorts until I came up with a name I really liked.  And I recently thought of one.  Tori is a nickname for Victoria, which strangely a lot of people don't understand, and I've liked the nickname much better since learning it means "bird" in Japanese.  And I'm a singer, so it all makes sense in my head!

So please update your links to my new page.

See you there!

Tony Awards Party Necklace

I've been making jewelry out of the guitar strings that the guys break during the show.  We are planning to sell them for charity in the Fall, so at the moment I'm just trying to make a whole bunch.  

But just before the Tony Awards, I was presented with a broken piano string.   I wasn't so sure what to make out of it.  Those things are huge!  Since the man who broke it, Levi Kreis, was nominated for a Tony for his performance, I decided I should make something out of it to wear the night of the awards.  So I formed it into a circle, and wrapped some broken guitar strings around it for decoration, and wore it as a necklace.  The pictures didn't come out so amazing, but I got tons of compliments on it that night. Here's one with the hubby...

And a closeup...

And I think it was good karma!  Congrats Levi!

Tony Awards Clock

Each of the musicals nominated for Best New Musical in 2010 were asked to decorate a clock for display on the red carpet, and eventually for auction.  The clocks themselves were furnished by one of the sponsors of the Tony Awards, Audemars Piguet.  One of my cast mates and I took on the responsibility of creating it.  Thanks for the help, Chris!

It included some broken guitar strings...

And I put my soldering skills to work.

My 6-Year-Old Self

While browsing in Barnes and Noble yesterday, I came across a book called Carefree Clothes for Girls.  I was struck with the desire, not only to dress some little girls, but to dress like this myself!  I just love the idea of clothes that can be well worn, washed without too much thought, and possibly splattered with paint or dirt from the dog park.  I'd love to make some clothes for myself with these principles behind them.  Cute, loose, comfortable, fresh, wrinkled, unfinished edges that get better with age.

I am constantly trying to redefine my style.  I'm attracted to so many different eras and styles that I get a bit overwhelmed sometimes.  I'd like to find some sort of fusion between comfort and style, glamourous and casual, all within the confines of functionality.  I love the clothes of these little girls, but when I dress like this, I feel childish in a way.  Like if I ran into some important person in my business they would think I'm not capable of handling responsibility or something.  Of course, like all women, I'd also like to feel sexy, and sometimes baggy clothes don't really do that.  So, how can I reconcile all these things?  Maybe just wearing a different style every day!  The closest I've come to combining glamour and casual comfort is this JCrew spread from the holidays a couple of years ago...

Maybe the key is to wear whatever I want, and throw on some red lipstick and sparkly earrings.  I can manage that!  Do you all have any tips that help you define your style?

Blood Red Dress

Hello blog world!  I have been meaning to write another post for weeks now, but things have been so crazy around here! 

Today I was working on my first vintage pattern, Advance 9270 (the middle look)...

...in this blood red polyester wool, which I found on deep clearance.  I decided to make a wearable muslin out of it to try the pattern out, before making it in a more expensive fabric.  I decided to line the bodice with this great Amy Butler cotton...

and as I was making my first cut with my rotary cutter I sliced my toe, clean through the nail.  Gross.  It just goes to show ya, those things are sharp!  And shedding a little blood for the blood red dress seems appropriate I guess.

Anyway, I was sitting here propping my foot up on my sewing machine, and I figured, hey, now's a good time to catch up on all those blog posts I've been dreaming up.  So here's a quick tutorial of my favorite way to mark darts.

First, lay something straight on your dart line (here I've used a notebook, but you could be smarter than I and use a ruler).

Second, fold your pattern back and draw along your straight edge with chalk.

To mark the dart on the back (or if the fabric is folded), fold the fabric back and use the same straight edge to mark the fabric.

Repeat on the other side of the dart.  As you sew, you have a perfect guide.

I hope that wasn't too ghetto for you all.  It's my first tutorial!  I came across this technique online somewhere, but naturally I can't seem to find it now.  So these mediocre iPhone photos will have to do.

Well, thanks for putting up with me today.   Happy (and safe) sewing!

Past Projects: iPhone Charm

To make a long story short, my iPhone was swiped out of my hand the other night by three kids on bikes.  I started chasing them and scared them enough to crash into each other.   One of them fell off his bike and started running, but I couldn't catch up.  So I took his bike.  Sadly, the police took the bike, but I felt pretty empowered.  That dumb kid traded a 3 year old iPhone for a bike.  Of course he probably stole that from someone else, but hey.  I tried.

So here is a little charm I made last year for Christmas.  I wore it when I went to get a new phone, to commemorate my trusty old iPhone that gave it's life for me.  

In the movie "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" they talk a bout a horror movie idea where cell phones kill people.  After my experience I like to pretend that my old phone is now the star of that movie.  :)

In Mourning (aka) Why I Hate My Hair (aka) Why I'm an Idiot

Hello blogging world. I have been away far too long.  I know, I know.  Hopefully this behemoth of a post will make up for my disappearance.

My absence is due to several factors. First of all, I opened my first Broadway show. It's been an amazing experience, and I'll catch you all up in that category and all the individual projects it entails. Secondly, I've been extremely disheartened by the enormous changes in my appearance. My hair has been an ongoing topic in this blog, and when I made this drastic change and was struggling with it, I just didn't have the heart to come whining to you all. You've already put up with an ongoing blog-o-drama about my hair, "do I dare change it" and all that crap, and for that I apologize.  I had no idea that something so trivial could occupy so much of my brain.  And since everyone around me is positively sick of hearing about it, I decided to spare you all.

So I will keep the hair nonsense down to a minimum. After this post. Just this one. I promise. No, really. Promise.

DISCLAIMER: After looking over all these photos I struggled between posting the ones that made me look good and the ones that more accurately describe how I feel. Usually I chose the ones that look good, purely out of vanity. BUT in doing so I feel like an idiot for complaining about my hair, which generally looks good in these pictures. Oy. And also let me preface with the fact that I'm no slouch with doing hair.  I've cut my own hair, and other people's hair plenty of of times, colored it a bunch and could style it to perfection in any period.  This is why I feel like an idiot.  I should have known better.

Ok. So, I started out with this.

A couple of months after this picture was taken, I felt like my hair was strangling me at night and I couldn't freaking get it to hold curl for some reason, which I thought had to do with length. So I had my favorite hair stylist cut and color it red.

(Pardon the puppy yawn.)

It looked even better in hot rollers...

...but it still wasn't light enough for me.  I was going for this:

So we took the red up a notch.

And as red is wont to do, it faded...

And THEN, because of this picture...

...and because I was struggling to find a style I wanted to rock every day, I decided to get bangs.  

We cut bangs and touched up my roots and color.

I never quite took to the bangs.  They were constantly in my eyes, which annoys the heck out of me.  My fault for being so damn stubborn.  I mean, didn't I remember the LAST time I thought I wanted bangs and sternly told myself never to do that again?  

And after only two weeks, when the color had faded to where I liked it, my hair regrowth was ruining the effect I was going for.  I wanted the light and pure feeling of this photo...

...but my regrowth made it look muddled.  And it still wasn't holding curl.  Which told me I needed to change my product.  Now my bathroom is full of products that didn't work.  But obviously it wasn't the length dragging it down.

Every day I tried a different style, hoping that the next would be better, would take less hairspray to stay in place, less time in the morning, less futzing in general.  After a while I just got tired of trying to "make it work."

I realized at some point that I was coveting the long brown hair of girls I would see on the subway and walking around the city.   I had to come to terms with the fact that I associate with brunettes, and that for some reason being brunette is important to me.  It feels more natural, and less forced.  I don't have to work so hard to feel pretty.  And the upkeep is much less expensive and time consuming. Between that and my eye doc telling me to wear my glasses for a month, which I hate, I didn't know who I was anymore.  I had to wear different clothing colors, and felt muddy and washed out.   And with the opening night of my first Broadway show coming up, I wanted to feel like myself again.  Time to go back to brown.  I started documenting with my iPhone on the days I really didn't like my hair.

I set up an appointment with another stylist, because my close friend/stylist extraordinnaire had gone on tour.  I decided to go back to brown, and let the whole damn thing grow out again.  

I took some pictures of my final day as a redhead, and the first time in months that I'd actually liked my styling.  You can pretty much guarantee that the best hair day I have in months is the day I go to the salon. What's up with that?

Little did I know that taking a picture of Angelina to the stylist....

...asking for a "rich espresso" would saddle me with BLACK HAIR!  And I mean buh-lack.  I washed it SIX TIMES with dandruff shampoo BEFORE taking this picture...

...and boy do I look pale all of a sudden!  I mean, that is BLACK.  But I do feel more myself.  I can always lighten it up a bit, right?  Almost there.  

Now the only thing I can complain about is the latest cut. I'm still trying to get some of the color out, but it's better.

It looks good in a roller set, but my set won't last more than a day.  And it looks polished if I straighten it.  She gave me a good cut for sure, but as you may have guessed by now, I'm slightly picky about my hair.  She gave me a shag, folks.  A long shag, perhaps, but it's definitely the 'Rachael' shag from friends, but with Courtney Cox's color.  

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit harsh.  And the following pictures actually make it look pretty good.  So let me be clear.

What I don't like:

1.  The ends are "shagged" which  to me looks "straggley."

2.  The bottom half feels so thin.  I wanted the bulk to be on the bottom, aka "retro."

3.  I am not in the habit of going to business meetings.  I mean I can go to work in pajamas, why do I need to look so conservative?

4.  The bangs.  Oh, the bangs.  Constantly in my eyes.  Which are already irritated. 

5.  It looks good enough when it's straight, but as a tall, broad-shouldered woman I desperately try to create softness and feel like it's too edgy at times.

6.  It doesn't last more than one day.  On the second day it sticks out every which way.  When I try to fix it with a hairdryer or curling iron it falls completely flat and lifeless.  

The bottom line is that I have always dreamed of having long luxurious brown hair, and instead of changing the products I put in it to get back the luster, I cut it and dyed it.  And now I am regretting it.  Because everyone in my life will attest that I never seem satisfied with my hair.  And for the last couple of years, before this fiasco, I was actually reveling in my hair.  It was finally long and glorious.  And I went and cut it off.  This is where the mourning part comes in.  

I just miss my hair.

So now I wait.  Because hair is just hair.  It grows back.

Okay, I'm done.  Thanks for reading and being patient.  I will now commence shutting up about it.  The next post will be much more uplifting. 

Much love and good hair karma,

V