Sunday, December 4, 2011

The things we do for love...


This is the view from the front. Note the slight resemblance to a shrunken chef's hat.



The view from the side, showing the wingie thingies about which I have some doubt, as well as the pleating of the cap which lookes to me like it can't be right. I am pretty certain it is not the only thing about this which can't be right. Is that enough poofage over the back of the head? Is it too much? Did the band go to the correct place on the side? Does the thing cover too much of the head, or not enough, or...

And why am I posting a little head schmatta on my knitting blog? Because, of course, if I get it right I will be slapping it on my 20th Century head and wearing it while fulfilling whatever obligations I have as a member of the 18th century Militia unit I have just joined. I do not think that these obligations include, should the place be threatened, beating off terrorists with the distaff from my shabby little repro colonial spinning wheel, but they might, and if they do, I will end up in the news, and if I end up in the news, of course, I want my cap to be right. A girl can't be too careful about these things.

Why on earth has she-who-cannot-finish-anything taken one one more thing? Really, it is not my fault.

OK, yes, I have always wanted 18th century clothing. I first wanted to do reenacting back in my early teens. However, I have managed to live MANY, MANY years without addressing either of these whims.

However, someone I love very much needs things to do. And this person would like to get dressed up in Colonial Clothing and Tell People Things. (Well, actually, this person might indeed be content to just sit there in old sweatpants and tell people things, but the days of the General Store and the Cracker Barrel being over, one must find ways to merchandise oneself, must one not?)

So this person and I will be doing these things together, and therefore you faithful blog followers of mine (Google says I have one, and, of course, Google would never lie...)will have to see pictures of said items, if for no other reason than that I am not good at this yet, and therefore need to post them so wiser heads than mine can come here and read and say things like "Abigail Adams is rolling in her grave like a log in a log-rolling contest at the idea that anyone she knew would have put that thing on her head." And then, you know, kindly offer advice. Or go off and drink heavily at the very thought of me in their community. Whichever, you know, makes more sense to them at the time.