In our History of Fashion study so far, Syd and I have:
worked with leather, embellished shells, and woven on a loom in Prehistory.
And now it's time to travel to Ancient Egypt!
Our spine for this study is The Complete Book of Fashion History, which is already well-thumbed by everyone in the family. For this unit, Syd and I re-read the pages for Ancient Egypt, and while there are loads of cross-curricular activities that you could do here--you could use the Story of the World chapters and activity book resources for Ancient Egypt, read biographies of Cleopatra and Nefertiti, study mummification, make a pharoah's costume or models of their elaborate jewelry--we've actually spent a LOT of time on Ancient Egypt over the years, so I zoomed in on the one thing that we haven't played around with yet: their eye makeup.
Eye makeup was a big deal for the Ancient Egyptians, and not just for cosmetic reasons. Just like football players do now, putting on dark eyeliner reduced glare on the eyes of the Ancient Egyptians in the bright sunlight, and the fact that the eye makeup contained lead, while it was terrible for their long-term health, did protect them from loads of eye diseases and infections.
Why would Ancient Egyptians get so many eye infections, you ask? It's because of all that freaking sand! It got everywhere, including in their eyes and into all of their food. Ancient Egyptians also had terrible teeth, because they ate so much sand that got into their meals that it wore down the enamel on their teeth.
Syd and I watched this video that shows images of Ancient Egyptian artwork, focusing on their eyes to provide the evidence that yes, indeed, dark eye makeup was a thing (at least on the artwork!)--
--and then we watched this video of a makeup artist recreating the look on her own eyes:
And then Syd tried it for herself!
Eyes open.
Eyes closed!
This was a fun activity for Syd, and inspired a whole week's worth of makeup play. It has never occurred to me for a single moment to ever want to put on even a smidge of makeup, but honestly, looking at Syd sitting across the table from me at 10 in the morning, sulking over finding the percent of difference between two numbers... I think she's wearing a little makeup right now, actually.
Here are some other ways that we've studied Ancient Egypt over the years:
Syd had big dreams for her Trashion/Refashion Show design this year. She wanted it to have a wrap skirt that she'd unwrap, mid-runway walk, to reveal as wings. A giant hood. Black velvet and silver sparkles.
And she wanted it to be covered in twinkle lights.
We went through several iterations of this dream, she and I, in between selling Girl Scout cookies like our lives depended on it, especially with that skirt. Twinkle lights, AND a transformation from wrap-around to wings, which means that we obviously needed two skirts, because she can't be skirt-less when her wings are revealed.
I did eventually figure out a way to make it happen using prodigious amounts of Velcro, but in the meantime I transformed a pair of black pants and a fancy dress into an underskirt so nice that Syd decided that maybe the wrap-around skirt part of the wings (and most particularly, with the wing fabric being so plain) could be ditched. The outfit, to be sure, did already have enough going on.
Instead, Syd cut out wearable wings--
--and decided on a runway move that would hide them until a big reveal.
Fortunately, the rest of the outfit went more according to plan. Syd thrifted a couple of pairs of black velvet pants and a single silver blouse that I used every inch of for the hooded shirt that I sewed her--I'm especially proud of the epaulets that used to be part of the shirt's bottom hem. The rest of that hem was used to flesh out the hood, and I cut the shirt's body into two three-quarters-length sleeves.
The twinkle lights were also tricky. For the photo shoot to accompany our application, I safety-pinned on a couple of packs of battery-operated twinkle lights, but it didn't give the effect that Syd really wanted:
She wanted white lights, and more of them. I got the idea to perhaps hook up a long string of conventional plug-in lights to a converter and then a battery pack, a set-up that's not very energy efficient but is upcycled and would, I believed, give the effect that Syd wanted. The problem, though, is that it was also heavy, with a converter box and two 6v lantern batteries. A friend helped me set the rig up, but when I tested it I realized that I'd need at least one more battery for a workable system, and the rig was already so heavy that I had to toss the plan altogether.
That night, another friend messaged me to tell me that she actually had a couple of strands of battery-operated white LED twinkle lights. Did I want to borrow them?
Reader, I DID!
For the first time this year, Syd filled out her own application. I don't know why it never occurred to me before to ask her to do that part, since it's her design through-and-through--some things only seem obvious in retrospect.
And I *should* have been having her fill out her application all along, because the kid nailed it! Here's what she wrote when asked to describe her design:
While average super heroes wear capes, REAL super heroes wear wings! Supergirl of the Night is crafted from four different pieces of thrift-store clothing including velvet pants transformed into a skirt and hooded shirt, shirts repurposed into silver sleeves, and wings made from an old blanket. The hood allows cover from rain and helps blend into the shadows. The sparkly silver sleeves reflect all bullet blasts and blend into day as well as night. The wings allow easy gliding and provide a cover of darkness for surprising enemies. The black shiny skirt hides many epic weapons to protect the innocent. Finally, Supergirl of the Night has a multi-colored string of lights to light up the night, from old Christmas lights with portable battery packs.
I tried to convince Syd that she should paint an old pair of black tights that I'd cut the feet out of back when the kids were modeling The Awesomes, but she had her heart set on wearing the tacky fishnet tights that I've owned ever since I went to that Halloween street party with Mac at least twenty years ago, probably 21 or 22 years ago by now. He dressed as John Hinckley Jr. in a bloodstained T-shirt that he'd used iron-on letters to put "I LOVE JODIE" on. I was dressed as... I don't even know what I was supposed to be, but a friend let me borrow this weird net dress that she said she'd got in Mexico, and I put on black lipstick and fishnet tights, so I think I was supposed to be some sort of sexy murder Goth or something? I have a photo that she took just before we left, with me attempting to vamp in a sexy murder Goth sort of way (I had no idea what I was doing, bless my heart) and Mac standing next to me looking bemused.
I miss him so much. I miss him all the time, so much.
So Syd wore the fishnet tights, and I bought her a pair of black Chucks to go with them (I bought myself a gorgeous pair of blue Chucks at the same time, and they're fabulous and I love them). And when I got the email that we were accepted in the show, we were in our hotel room in Atlanta, and Syd was so excited that she hyperventilated and I thought she was going to pass out for a second.
Even after you've completed your garment and you're accepted in to the show, there's still so much to do! It works best for Syd as a model if she creates and then practices an actual runway routine--and yes, I DID get this idea from watching Toddlers and Tiaras on Netflix, but I swear, it works so well! When we lived in town, Syd would draw a runway in chalk on the basketball court of the local park and we'd practice there every day, but now we have enough room that we can have a chalk runway on our own driveway, and a miniature masking tape runway in our family room. At our first rehearsal for the show, the showrunner demonstrates a proper walk, including the points where she'd like every model to stop and for how long--I videotape that as a reference, and we use that to help Syd craft her routine. When she gets the routine the way she likes it, I videotape that, as well, and she watches it before she practices every day.
It's a lot of work being a runway model!
Syd also had to figure out her hair and makeup. Her hair, she was disappointed to realize, wasn't going to show from underneath her wide hood, so she focused her attention on Googling makeup ideas, and asked the volunteer makeup artist from Tricoci University to give her smoky eyes.
Which she did!
The rest of the makeup--blush and black lipstick with a silver vertical line running down the middle of her bottom lip (which people remarked upon the most out of anything, even though it took me five seconds to do with a small paintbrush and our clown makeup palette)--we did backstage before the show.
Even though the show doesn't start until 7 pm, Syd and I spend the whole day together, first getting her hair and makeup done, then at the theater:
The dress rehearsal takes FOREVER (and this year we rebelled by making Syd the only model who didn't dress for the dress rehearsal--in my mind, it's just one more chance to mess her garment or her makeup up and to wear down the batteries in her twinkle lights), and then we watch the opening act's dress rehearsal, and then we find somewhere to hang out and watch a movie (Beauty and the Beast this year) while doing each other's nails, and then pizza is delivered so Syd chows down on that for a while--
and then, surprisingly, it's already time to get Syd dressed and get the rest of her makeup on.
While we're doing that last bit, the rest of our family is doing this!
The Trashion/Refashion Show is recorded and plays on our local public access TV station a few times a year, but Matt always makes a bootleg video recording of Syd's walk from his spot in the audience. I present to you, then, Supergirl of the Night!
My heart can hardly handle watching Syd perform. I love watching how enthusiastic the audience is, and how happy they are to cheer her on. Every year she's more confident on the stage, and every year she enjoys it more.
Me, though? My favorite moment is this--
Because we do that photo at intermission, when we are DONE! We just have to walk around and schmooze, show off the battery packs to interested audience members, let Syd answer questions about her process and the materials she's used, have her pose for photos with people, and then we get to sit and watch the runway show dedicated to the Trashion designs.
And even later than that, we get to walk down the streets of our town with one of us looking like this:
And because our town is the way it is, nobody even bats an eye. I don't even think we were the weirdest-looking group out there that night.
Syd has already told me that next year, she wants to apply for the Trashion part of the show. This worries me, because Trashion design is trickier, using more unusual materials that can be harder to source (although really, I suppose that we should have been put in the Trashion half that year that I made Syd's garment out of a sheet). Syd has also, however, told me something else that makes me far, far, far happier.
Next year, she says that she wants to sew her garment herself.
The photo above shows the basic garment that Syd and I sewed WHILE I HAD THE FLU. I am hard-core, my Friends! I later added a double petticoat made of sheer curtains from Goodwill and the sash from Matt's high school graduation outfit.
I did my best to recreate Syd's original design, below:
Syd's designs are always this detailed, but fortunately, she gets the fact that construction is a totally different ballgame, and feathers can't always be found at Goodwill, and vat-dyeing corduroy yellow apparently makes it turn green--we did lace instead of feathers, and a red velvet bodice instead of a yellow one. I'm not as pleased with it as I'd like to be, but honestly, I did pretty damn good considering that I had the flu!
Syd, of course, always gives it her all. Here she is practicing onstage the day of the show:
The red Converse that her grandmother bought her kill me with cuteness.
Tricoci University (formerly Hair Arts Academy) students generously donated their time and expertise to do hair and makeup again this year; Syd's hair designer thrilled her by creating exactly the tri-colored, half-up/half-down impossible hairdo that Syd asked for, and although the makeup artist wasn't able to create the impossible (Syd really wanted this exact look, bless her heart), she did the red flames that Syd later had me fill in with metallic orange and gold, with gold accents:
Who knew that metallic orange would bring out the green in her hazel eyes?
Syd did her own lipstick, of COURSE:
Every year, this kid amazes me onstage, and this year?
She amazed me:
When the audience starts to cheer so loudly for my baby that the emcee has to pause her spiel? Ugh, my heart can't handle it.
Unlike last year, when I had TWO kids in costume and thus didn't manage to get a single photo of them in the flurry of "stop touching your face, here let me get that smudge, please don't step on your cape, your boot is untied again, pee now so you don't pee on the runway," I actually managed to get several photos of my kid this year!
I did NOT say that the photos would necessarily be in focus, just that they would exist.
I even managed to get a good photo of sisters together--
--just before they started fighting:
And pics with total strangers! Yay!
And just like that, there goes another year of the fashion show. Personally, I am stoked to be done with couture runway design for another eight months.
Syd, however? I kid you not, in the scrum to exit the theater after the show, she began with her patented "I was thinking..." and then proceeded to tell me her design plans for next year's Trashion/Refashion Show garment.
Something about pop tabs, I think, and silver lame...
I told myself that this week I would only work on the tasks that must be completed before Christmas--etsy orders, homemade gifts, the ever-burdensome job of finding a chicken sitter, holiday memory-making--and, indeed, much of my time is taken up by advance work for my paid writing and editing jobs (wouldn't want to be stuck writing on Christmas Day to meet the next day's deadline!), but there are a few topics that I wanted to write about here before Christmas, and so I've decided that this fulfills my promise to myself.
Because writing about The Nutcracker wouldn't be nearly as fun AFTER Christmas!
Although Syd has participated in some pretty intense, large-scale stage productions before, and she's danced in ballet recitals before--on this very stage, in fact--we have never been involved in anything as intense, as exciting, as large-scale as this, the kiddo's first role in our university's yearly staging of The Nutcracker.
We're fortunate, here, to have a stellar ballet program, and a pre-college program that is both as stellar, and is the pool from which the children's roles in their productions are chosen. Auditions for this year's production of The Nutcracker took place way back in September, and Syd was cast as an angel, the usual role for children in their first and second years of ballet (the children in the Creative Movement program, who are all under the age of seven, are not invited to audition).
I had expected much of the time commitment that came with months of weekly rehearsal (and nightly practice at home, with a "practice candle" made out of a paper bowl and a pipe cleaner, and "Scene: The Enchanted Palace and the Kingdom of Sweets," performed by the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, on repeat on Spotify, but I didn't quite expect the hours--absolute hours--of daily rehearsals opening week, so much so that I still wonder how the children who had to attend school managed it, because I know that I sure declared it a school holiday! I was worried that Syd would become tired and stressed, so I devoted that week to supporting her, making sure she got plenty of rest and ate plenty of nutritious food, making sure she washed her hands often, making sure she had a lot of play-time and unstructured time when she wasn't needed at rehearsal.
Syd, of course, was not tired and stressed (well, that Saturday evening performance wasn't quite as fun as the matinee performance a few hours prior, but that was the only one). She loved it. She loved being backstage with the other dancers, she loved wearing her costume, she loved getting peeks at the scenery and props used in other parts of the show, and she loved, loved, loved performing. Just loved it.
Frankly, I was the stressed one. The daily rehearsal times were emailed to the parents the night before, and those were simply the times that your child had to be there, in the required uniform, her hair performance-ready as specified, carrying her backpack with street clothes, water bottle, quiet activity, and healthy snack. She mustn't be tardy, even though driving and parking on campus can be very, very tricky. She must be there at exactly those times, even if there's another child in the family who also has to be places right then. Again, I can't imagine how families with inflexible schedules that can't accommodate all this complicated prep and transportation can possibly permit their children to participate.
And about that hair... I had to STUDY for that hair. I had to Youtube "flat performance bun," skim video tutes until I found one that matched the ten-step how-to included in the 30+page parent's guide that we were given, watch it several times (and yes, that video is done by a child. A child had to teach me how to do this hairstyle), and practice it on both children before I felt confident to do it for real on the first tech rehearsal day.
It was very important to me that this bun be perfect every time (Gee, I wonder where Syd gets her Type-A perfectionism?), and every time I made a bun, I'd make a little note to myself for next time--less hairspray at the beginning; brush the hair into the high ponytail gradually, not all at once; note the placement of each bobby pin so that they don't overlap; place the ponytail slightly off center to the left, since the majority of hair will fall to the right, etc.
Wouldn't you just love to be me?
And yes, because I know you're as interested in this as I was, the bun was perfect. Every. Single. Time. Other parents photographed it to help them make their own buns, it was that perfect. Here it is, from every angle, just so you can admire it as I did:
My stage-makeup skills weren't nearly as good. I don't understand blush, and Syd had to tell me how to do the mascara.
See? Perfect.
Mind you, I'm saying all of this like it was a pain in the butt, and it was, sure, but it was also so, so worth it. The kid loved it. She got loads of free ballet instruction. She got to be onstage, in front of an audience, doing ballet with a first-class cast, which was a big deal to her. She got to look like this--
--and it's adorable.
She even got to be on TV, if you count the livestreams of every performance, every single one of which I watched. I even, because it's apparently the 1980s again (Aunt Pam, I swear that I remember you doing this!), had Matt take photos OF THE TV while she was on:
Syd's the blurry angel at center left.
Now she's second from the left.
Matt missed her other close-ups, which I, of course, wouldn't have done, but I didn't want to tear my eyes away from the screen to take the photos in the first place, so I probably shouldn't complain.
We attended the final performance, and at that one, I finally understood why I'd been trucking the kid back and forth to hours of rehearsals for months. Apparently, at the rehearsals, they'd always rehearsed to the music, and the children had been trained to not just count, and not just follow their partners, but also to listen to the music, and to follow the musical cues. And so during this particular performance, when the entire orchestra inexplicably--I still don't understand how it could possibly have happened, and I used to play violin in an orchestra--skipped several measures, the children were not thrown. It could have been disaster, with the children carrying on with their correct choreography, no longer in sync with the music, ending their number too late, and what about the Snow Queen and her Cavalier--how would they come in on time, with the angels still on stage? However, even though their choreography meant for them to do several other things, the children immediately heard the music change and without hesitation, they all skipped the same measures that the orchestra did and followed the new musical cue. Having watched the previous four performances online and actually knowing what had happened made it incredible to watch, for me--nobody else in our group noticed anything unusual.
And now The Nutcracker is over, and we can all concentrate on Will's upcoming aerial silks show. It was a wonderful experience for everyone, especially for my kiddo who loves ballet and loves the stage.
Next year, she's hoping to win the role of a baby mouse, or perhaps even a soldier!
Girl Scout badges are something that we work on almost every day, often as part of the kids' schoolwork. If you were diligent about the extra activities that you assign or the badges that you select, you could absolutely use Girl Scout badges as your entire homeschool curriculum, but we tend to work on the kids' Girl Scout badges as unit studies along with our other studies--it's a great way to insert novel areas of study into my otherwise pretty methodical lesson plans.
One of the badges that Will's been working on for a while now is the Entertainment Technology Junior badge. She's filmed a stop-motion animation, built a thaumatrope and a catapult, programmed in Scratch, and done a lot of reading and documentary watching. A few weeks ago, she said that she wanted to complete the "Create your own special effects" step, so I pointed her to the children's face painting book that I had checked out of the library for this, helped her find the face paints and brushes, and set up our giant mirror outside on the deck for her:
The mirror is filthy because, although it's huge, we're always moving it, often outside, for various activities.
Will REALLY wanted to paint Syd's face like a puppy, but Syd just was not going to let her. Syd did, however, consent to act like a puppy for us:
Instead, Will decided to paint herself like a zombie:
I've been wanting to restock this clown makeup with additional colors for YEARS. Now that we're finally out of white, that's my excuse!
Will worked hard on herself, with a ton of focus, and was THRILLED with the results!
Immediately after this, we biked over to our polling place so that I could vote in some local primaries (and spend some time with the kids studying and explaining the ballot--it's part of Will's Inside Government Junior badge!). Will was hugely tickled to discover that every single poll worker was interested in hearing the entire story behind her makeup--of course, instead of actually telling them the story, Will just began to act like a zombie who was staggering over to eat their faces off, but that's her way of acting thrilled. One poll worker was so impressed that he clearly sensed a kindred spirit in her, and pulled out his phone to show her a bunch of photos of a greenhouse that he built behind his house. That dude has a pineapple tree in his greenhouse! And a fig tree! With figs!!!
Will still has a few activities that I'd like her to complete before I sew her Entertainment Technology patch on, but to be fair, this badge is HUGE, encompassing what amounts to an entirely different subject for each step. This is absolutely one of those badges that, if you were schooling solely through Girl Scout badges, could take you through an entire semester of math, science, history, creative writing, technology, and art.
In our four years of creating for and performing in our town's Trashion/Refashion Show, my kid has learned a LOT about being a fashion designer, a makeup artist, and a model, and, yes, I have learned a lot about being a stage mom.
I have actually said the following words to another human being, and MEANT them: "Please go full glitz on her, with super-dramatic eyes." We again owe Syd's beautiful hair and make-up to the students of the Hair Arts Academy, who always generously donate their time and skills to making all the models runway-ready.
I have become adept at packing a full day of nourishing kid food, none of which will stain one's clothing: hard-boiled eggs, string cheese, graham crackers, tangerines, granola bars, baby carrots.
I carry safety pins in my pocket.
I also carry tiny toys:
I photograph the dress rehearsal, since I can't sit in the second row during the performance:
Syd's signature move this year was a kind of jump+spreadeagle pose. She spent a lot of time airborne.
In fact, I spend most of the performance standing right here, just behind the curtain at stage right. It's a great spot, since Syd and I can watch all the activity behind the curtain at stage left, consisting of the stage manager and all the models about to walk:
I also know that there's no point in even trying to leave the theater for the two hours between dress rehearsal and our final call-time. Much better to hang out in the theater, reading or playing with tiny toy dogs in the balcony, watching the aerial silks and hula hoop teams at their own dress rehearsals:
Four years into this fashion show, I am well into the realization that this kid owns the stage. I am always so, so nervous for her that one of these years I may well have a pre-show heart attack, but as I'm sitting here at the table writing, with Syd sitting next to me working on her cursive/geography, I just asked her if she ever felt nervous before she walked.
"No." Didn't even have to think about it.
"Well, what do you feel?"
"Excited. And as soon as I'm done, I wish I could do it again ten more times!"
There you go, then.
Fortunately, aerial silks always opens the show, and their performances are so awesome (in the literal sense of the word) that my pending panic attack gets settled down enough that life can continue. I have to share both of these performances with you, both because they'll make your jaw drop (seriously, watch them full screen for the full effect), and because this is the group from whom Will takes lessons. These strong, brave girls and women are her role models:
Side note: While chatting with an acquaintance yesterday, I discovered that his daughter was the star of last year's aerial silks performance, the one who did all the impressive spins and falls and so stunned my daughters that they immediately asked for me to find someone to teach them how to do this amazing thing, whatever it was.
"Ah, YOU!" I said to him. "You are THE reason that I've spent hundreds of dollars on aerial silks classes in the past year!"
Syd, as she's been every year since she was four, was the model who opened the show. I love simply watching her performance, of course, but to me it's even better knowing all the work that she put into it, the way she has her marks and her cues memorized, her well-rehearsed routine that she practiced and timed and perfected over many weeks, the way she smiles openly at the audience:
And yes, she seriously would have done it ten more times, just that way, although I was pretty happy to be done with it after the once:
Much better, to me, to sit in the audience and watch the hula hoopers--
--and the Trashion runway walk, and to follow the Jefferson Street Marching Band up and down Kirkwood afterwards, random sidewalk cafe patrons taking cell phone videos of us as we passed:
And that's it for this year! The kid has her memories to sustain her until next year, and I have the happy satisfaction of a job well done, a major accomplishment accomplished, and the knowledge of a well-deserved rest from this particular project for the next several months.
Although... as I was chatting with my acquaintance about the show, he said, "Just imagine next year. Not only will you have one kid on the runway, but you could also have two kids in the silks performance."
I just...
I can't...
You know, I simply won't think about that for a few months.
that I had checked out of the library for this, helped her find the face paints and brushes, and set up our giant mirror outside on the deck for her:
with additional colors for YEARS. Now that we're finally out of white, that's my excuse!
