Fabulous Shopping at My Sister's Closet. Oh, My.

We had a wonderful time at Art Unraveled a couple of weeks ago. We always do. The Embassy Suites is a really nice hotel, with a balcony in every room (as far as I know--we've always had one), and ours always looks out over the golf course and, in the distance, the mountains. The classes are varied, the vendors' event is fabulous. Everything is really groovy. Best of all, we get to see lots of people we know but never get to see otherwise. It's not like we live in a mecca of mixed media art activity; no one ever comes to Midland on purpose. So we love going to Phoenix even if it is 117 in August.

And this year we found even more to love. First, we met Jeanie Thorn, whom I met online this past year. I love her. She has the coolest hair EVER. Plus fabulous Stuff--shoes, bags, jewelry. So, yeah, I should have known she'd be Trouble (that starts with "T" and that rhymes with "P" and that stands for "pool"--I worked for a guy decades ago who said that every time someone mentioned either "trouble" or "pool," and even though I've never seen the movie, it's still stuck in my head).

 And then--then!--Jeanie sealed the deal by introducing me to--oh, my, my heart beats faster just thinking of it!--My Sister's Closet. Now, she'd told me we should go to this consignment store, and I was, of course, game. Beyond game. But I didn't expect too much. You know--you think, "Oh, that would be fun," but kind of figure it's just the adventure. You don't expect fabulousness. Fabulousness, however, is exactly what we got.

My Lovely Editor Tonia lives in Phoenix (or one of the other parts of Phoenix that has another name--I think everybody lives in one of those, because if I sent stuff to them, it's never actually addressed to "Phoenix," but I stayed so completely confused and turned around (because it's so hot, you don't spend much time outside, and because I'm not outside there, I get turned around and don't immediately know which direction I'm facing, which drives me nuts, as that's something I *always* know--I navigate by directions: "on the southeast corner," "two blocks west"--and not knowing makes me, literally, disoriented (from the 1650s, "disorient" is French, meaning to "cause to lose one's bearings" or "to cause to turn from the east"--I LOVE this)). Whatever: they all live somewhere nearby, "nearby" being relative in the nation's 5th largest city.

 Tonia.

 Jeanie's huband, Mr. G, Jeanie, and Tonia.

Don Madden, Mr. G., Jeanie, and Tonia at the book signing and panel discussion (I was working and didn't get to schmooze).

So we arranged to meet Tuesday afternoon, after we all got some work done in the morning, and Jeanie took Tonia and me, with The EGE driving, to My Sister's Closet.

Oh, my. My, my, my, my. I fell in love. Here I am with what I bought at the first version (it turns out there are four locations, and, as you might guess, we managed to hit them all before the end of the week. I became something of a pest. People would go with us and find places to sit while I shopped). These stores are amazing, filled with tons and tons of cool clothes, way, way less expensive than you'd expect.

The long blue dress is, they said, "vintage Isaac Mizrahi," which, as my friend Becky points out, is kind of weird since he's not very vintage himself. The people in the shop acted like this was a fabulous couture piece, but it could well have come from Target. I didn't care: I love it. I especially love the tiny holes that need to be patched. I'm also going to have to attach the back of the skirt to the top--while that peek-a-boo effect may be groovy, it's not for me, and that's not how I intend to wear it (for me, it's a long casual thing, not something for high heels and glamour).

 

This is what it looks like on the hanger, which is probably why it was still there.

 It ties like this.

 The back--the skirt sits at the waist when you're wearing it--it's got elastic.

 I'm going to sew the elastic part to the hem of the top. It's going to take some pinning *while* I'm wearing it, which is why I wish a dress form in exactly my size would magically appear on my front porch. Alas, I'm going to have to enlist The EGE. He's painstaking and meticulous, but I don't know that he's ever pinned clothing in his life. Yikes.

 Tiny worn holes. That white-ish line is a flaw, which I also love.

 I also found that top you saw up there. I actually squealed when I saw it because I recognized it immediately. Or thought I did: Alabama Chanin, about whom I did a piece for Belle Armoire. I was soooo excited, having made a skirt with her technique and knowing that everything's done by hand in Alabama, and, oh, my: $17.50! I snatched it up without even trying it on (it fits perfectly). (Susan Lenart Kazmer tried to get me to wear it: she said she bet she could unzip the back and snatch it right off me before I even noticed. Ha. Silly woman: I would never wear it before I *washed* it. Gah.)

Alas, when I got it home and read the tag, I realized it was one of the ones made after the split, when the partners (or whatever--we didn't discuss this part of the company's history, so although I've read a little about it, I forgot the details) split and Alabama Chanin took over the operations in Alabama and "Project Alabama" moved its stuff to India. This top was made in India, and the zipper is most definitely not put in by hand. Still, though, this is a pretty cool top, and it's close enough for me. You can find a few Project Alabama things on ebay, and the tops made in this style start at $525.

 Alongside the handstitching for the zipper is a row of machine stitching. Huh. (The big deal about her style is that everything is handsewn; I think this was part of what the split was about--that and moving the work overseas.)

Some tiny holes that need to be mended. Hooray!

This morning I'm working on this. I think it's supposed to be lingerie, but I bought it to wear over a tank. Or who knows what else--I love it, even though the color is boring. It's silk, a wonderful silky silk. Very floaty. It's "Rebecca Taylor," and this is the closest I could find, at $225. I think I paid $10 for it.

It had those adjustable lingerie-ish straps, which I don't like, so this morning I removed the hardware and sewed the back of the strap in place. I picked out some beads, which was difficult, as the lace part I want to bead isn't pink and isn't really rose but isn't beige, either. Of course I had some beads that will work perfectly, but they were hard to find because they weren't in the pink drawer and they weren't in the brown drawer. I don't even know where they were--I looked through them all until I yelled, "Eureka!" I don't know which drawer I'll put them in when I'm done with them, either. They're kind of stuck in color limbo. I think I need a drawer just for Beads of Indeterminate Color.

OK. Whew. So that's part of the story. There's more, of course--more to show when I get it photographed and stuff. But that's it for now--Sunday it stitching day, and I'm already behind: I got a bunch done earlier but then stopped to dick around with these photos (and the Blogger uploader is NOT my best friend today). Back to work--hope you're doing something fabulously productive today, too~~XO