Because of the monsoon, I planned to take good snapshots for posterity-- a brilliant idea turned bust. I wisely picked a day so cold and windy that Aidan, Cadence, and Skylark began crying as soon as we set foot outside the door, and Lucinda's and my curls went flat in the gales by the time we took snapshots, anyway.
C'est la vie.
Look at the happy children in a barren land!
The wind kept blowing our hats off, so we promptly packed up and moved behind the shed, which, while still freezing, was not quite as windswept.
Ah, there we are. We belong on air and sea! No wonder we look so miserable when landlocked.
Here's your yearly gif.
Let's start with Mildred-of-Mermaid-Lagoon because she wanted to run inside and heat up lunch.
I spent under $10.00 total on everyone's costumes this year, and $3.00 was on Mildred's alone. Blue hair is expensive! (Sarah, you should recognize your wedding shells.)
For drafting a gored skirt, I used these
two tutorials as a guide, but without all the crazy mathematics of the Lila tutorial. Of course, I messed it up, had to add a panel to the back, and took in about 8 inches of hot air balloon poof around the hips, but the end result fit to a t, so sloppy drafting works!
Look at that lovely mergirl.
I had no time to add the hook and eye. Thank goodness for safety pins.
I made the sea star embellishment and fins separately and just pinned them on so that if Millie ever wanted to wear the skirt for something else (which she won't), she could.
The crown was just shells and pearls hot glued to a dollar store headband covered in felt.
Millie made the shell pins in her braid by gluing shells and felt to curler clips.
I bought glitter but then returned it because I uncovered some at home. I was enthusiastically shaking it on her braid when the top came off and the whole thing dumped onto her hair.
Even weighed down with all that sparkle, she looked perfectly lovely.
Smee was next because he was hungry, cold, and overdue for his nap.
It took about ten minutes to whip up the hat with built-in muttonchops and to sew blue felt on a onesie, and I made the glasses from wire covered with duct tape and spray paint. Skylark wasn't fond of them (i.e. she panicked every time I put them on), but they looked pretty great. I left no time to make a shirt with a built-in belly poking out.
Her own belly had to do.
$0.00 spent.
Poor Smee always gets the short end of the stick.
She was definitely not as concerned about the crocodile as I was. Maybe she saw Susannah making it for me and therefore knew it wasn't real.
Ah, sad Tinkerbell. The wind had swept away her Tinkerbell bun and glitter, and her slippers were soaked.
Where's her
mother, for Pete's sake?!
She perked up when I told her she could go inside and eat marshmallows after I took her picture.
I picked up a size 12 dance costume at the thrift store for $4.00, pinned it up, and now I've got a Hallowe'en costume for Cadence for the next nine years. ("What? You don't
want to be Tinkerbell
again? Too bad! The costume still fits!") For the slippers, I hot-glued felt to some moccasins, and Millie made yarn pom-poms for the toes.
The wings were red and gold wings meant to be a Christmas wall decoration (I know-- weird) that I picked up on Christmas clearance for fifty cents. Annika and Susannah painted them silver and green, but, alas, the monsoon washed off some paint.
Now, go eat marshmallows!
I was going to make a pair of pink pajamas for Aidan's costume, a la Michael Darling, but instead rummaged frantically in the basement bins until I uncovered a size four fuzzy. I have rarely felt as triumphant as when I emerged, pink fuzzy in hand, from those dark depths.
I covered up some purple hearts with a sneaky pink pocket, Zeke made the sword, and Susannah lent her teddy bear.
$0.00 spent.
I had to sew on the handy opening in the back, too, because it needed it.
I keep laughing at this picture. When I asked Aidan if he could smile, he tried his best.
Looks like he thinks he's
this Michael, instead. Wrong movie, Aidan!
Millie made Zeke's top hat using
this tutorial. It looked awesome until the monsoon put it in its place. We taped it up and put on more black paint for these pictures.
The glasses were ten cents at a rummage sale, so...
Cost of costume: ten cents
Just look at him and try not to grin!
When Lucinda wore her dress to church the following Sunday, Mr. P. complimented her. Then he commented on the unusual fabric and asked me what kind it was. I sheepishly replied that it was a vintage sheet someone had handed along. Not quite feed sacks, but still...ha!
Poor Lu was getting worried by the time Hallowe'en afternoon rolled around, and I hadn't yet even started her costume. I don't really know how it came together, but it did. I used elastic casing for the poofy sleeves and made a gathered skirt attached to a simple bodice.
$0.00 spent.
She made such a sweet, little Wendy.
Oh, man. I love this picture, too. I've never seen Tiger Lily so sassy nor Wendy so frigid.
I ran out of time to make Pip a costume, so I was relieved that the costume from my childhood fit her well enough. Millie made her the feather headdress, and Annika lent her a pair of brown moccasin slippers. $0.00 spent.
Little Nut Berry Pip.
Brown sugar sweetness.
Oh, yeah. I almost forgot these two.
Total cost of both of these costumes was $0.00, thanks to the fabric I have squirreled away. I winged the tunics and used
this tutorial for the hats. Annika's mask was a stroke of luck. Someone (maybe Titi?) gave us a couple scraps of stretchy spandex, and I sewed them together with none left over in order to make the mask. It looks really wonky under the hat because I had no choice about how to piece it together, but that's why hats are handy things to have!
Naughty shadow.
Doesn't Susannah make the perfect Peter?!
She made her own dagger. Don't ask if it will actually cut anything because the answer is "no."
Annika was so happy when one of our neighbors broke off from gushing exclamations about how beautiful Mildred looked to say, "I'm sorry, but YOU just look creepy. Ugh. You look SO creepy."
Mission accomplished.
CREEEEEEPY.
Of course, they wanted to get up on the shed roof for action shots.
Susannah is a goof and started busting a move mid-flight.
Focus!
And this picture? It just makes me happy.
I'm last because, except for Peter and his shadow, everyone was inside thawing at this point.
My eyelids are not purple with cold. (It's makeup.)
My lips ARE purple with cold.
Annika had made me a hook earlier in the day, and Susannah made me a crocodile, so that if worse came to worse, I could go like this:
The children had rummaged through and emptied out the costume bin all over my bedroom floor, though, so when I went up to grab a jacket before we left, I saw a ruffled shirt I'd forgotten about lying on top! Then I saw a suede coat I'd been given (Titi, again?) lying in the corner, and it was all downhill from there. In ten minutes flat, I pulled together a costume, all the while exclaiming over my good fortune.
They weren't quite Hook's maroon jacket with gold brocade, the black ringlets, or the buckled shoes of my imagination, but I was pirate-y enough.
Cost: $1.00 for the feather boa I bought at the dollar store (and then glued to wire and felt and pinned to my church hat while John waited in the van).
Oops. My fingers are showing.
How embarrassing.
I took this picture when I came inside because all the girls were disgusted by how ugly I looked. When I looked in the mirror, though, I thought that I was pretty much a runway supermodel.
Thick, defined eyebrows.
Check.
Smokey make-up.
Check.
Sullen expression.
Check.
Just you wait. I'm ahead of the fashion curve, and in a couple of years, thin moustaches will be all the rage at Paris Fashion Week.
