Alexander McQueen With Lucy

 I finally got to see the Alexander McQueen "Savage Beauty" exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art yesterday. I was a little bummed about having to drag my three-year-old along with me to the museum because I knew the exhibit would be crowded and I would have to carry all 32 pounds of her around the entire time lest she get trampled by some stilletto-wearing McQueen super-fan.  Indeed I would recommend seeing this exhibit without your kid, so you can read all the text, watch all the videos, and listen to the audio tour. Plus it's scary. So there's that.

But the fun thing about taking my kid to see Savage Beauty is the associative commentary from an almost-three-year-old. You may not be so lucky to be in New York with a toddler who can provide you with this alternative tour experience, so I'll share with you as best I can my kid's critique of Savage Beauty.

(You're not allowed to take any pictures in the exhibit, so these photos are all pillaged from the Met's website).

After standing in line for a full 30 minutes, this is the first gown you see upon entering the exhibit:

 

Made from black and red ostrich feathers and medical slides (the kind you may remember putting under a microscope in high school) painted red, it's stunning and really had an impact on my kid:

LUCY: Ohhh, AMAZING! 

(Beat) 

Can we go home now?

But there's no turning back after waiting in line for 30 minutes, so we persisted. Lucy was less impressed by the first room, The Romantic Mind, which showcases some of his early work, including his graduate collection for the Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design in London. Among the tailored jackets and dresses, are his "bumster" pants (circa 1993), ultra-low-rise trousers designed to elongate the body — and maybe show a little buttcrack. Again, Lucy was unimpressed. After all, her pants often look like this:

About 12 years after these pants were introduced, we'd all be sick of seeing every hootchie's G-string hanging out of the top of her low-rise jeans. But at the time, they were so innovative. If you're doubting just how innovative they were, here's a close approximation of what you were probably wearing in 1993:

McQueen's vision gets considerably darker in the next room, titled "Romantic Gothic." Actually, it gets downright scary (and more than a little S&M-ish). To illustrate that fact, the curators have included a looped soundtrack of wind punctuated by a high-pitch howling. We were trying to squeeze ourselves into the queue of people getting a closer look when Lucy said: "It sounds like a scary monster is COMING TO EAT US!" And then she looked at this piece here and said "I think that's the monster!"

The following room, The Cabinet of Curiosities, would be the one I'd linger in longest if I didn't have a kid with me. Lined with hats and accesories made from unlikely materials (including impressive wings made from balsa wood), this room featured video installations of his runway shows, which were more like performance art than fashion — disturbing performance art featuring accessories that almost all resemble shackles in some way. Not literally shackles, but the effect is the same when nearly all the models look enslaved in some way. Like this:

After that, things got a little lighter and costumey in a good way — from his tartan creations (at the time controversial because they were introduced in a bloody show called Highland Rape) to Edwardian fantasy frocks all red velvet and tulle. 

And if you like the "unconventional materials" challenges on Project Runway, then you will love the middle section of the McQueen exhibit. This one, made entirely of pheasant feathers, was my favourite:

 

This one was Lucy's favourite. In her words: "Why does that lady have a cake on her head? (Beat)  I like that."

And then, in response to the following: "Hey mom, look! Ladies don't play football! Only mens do!" followed by hysterical laughter.

And then something about the gowns in the following room (clustered together under the theme of "Romantic Primatism") compelled Lucy to say, "When I grow up, I want to be a dinosaur," which was the ultimate highlight of my day.

 

The Perfect Summer Top

Burdastyle.com's Tunic Top With Crochet Flowers just might be the perfect summer top. For me. You may prefer short, tight, see-through polyester shirts for summer. In fact, if you live in my neighborhood in New York, you probably do. I've seen you (and your side-boob). I, however, like flattering tops in natural fibers that don't  make you any hotter than it already is in New York City. Because I can't help the sweat trickling down the back of my leg, but I can prevent overheating my midsection in a lightweight tunic like this one here.

The pattern for this top costs just $5.40 at Burdastyle.com, which is a great price. The downside of downloading a pattern as opposed to buying one in a store is you have to print all the pages and then tape them together before cutting the pieces out. It's tedious. I'm not going to lie. But all that work seems like less of a deal if you use the pattern a few times, which I plan to do with this one here. I've already started a second, which I am making from a white and blue embroidered tablecloth. Hopefully it won't be as wrinkly as this one here:

Spotted in Times Square Today

 We were walking back to the subway through Times Square this afternoon after spending the morning in Bryant Park, riding the carousel and watching odd people play ping pong, when we saw this performance art. It looks like the work of Olek, a Polish street artist known for her large scale crocheted installations. Of course, we all shook hands with the crocheted person. It appears to be inspired by Yoko Ono's Grapefruit. If you also want to be bossed around by Yoko Ono, follow her Twitter feed. Like, truly follow it — like my friend Chris did.

This makes me so happy

Someone found my blog by googling "Mormon Spanx."

Bow-print dress and Burda

 I was super flattered this week to be asked by Burdastyle.com to be a featured member. What that means is I answer a bunch of questions about my sewing habits and style aspirations ( I say "aspirations" because my life as a work-at-home mom doesn't always allow me to exhibit the style I favour) and they feature my projects on the Burda blog. Cool right? I just need to find some time to answer the long list of questions. I'm so freaking busy with a big writing project this week I shouldn't even be writing here!

Anyway, pictured above is the finished vintage McCall's maternity dress that I cursed over last week (no, I am not pregnant. I just like the style and thought it would light and airy for summer). And then I finished and it's now a million degrees in New York, so though this is made from cotton, it's much too hot to wear. Scratch that: Everything is much to hot to wear. (My family is hanging out in the air conditioned American Museum of Natural History today while I try to get some work done.) I love navy blue. It's a bummer it can be so hard to match up, but it's lovely nonetheless.

Because I scrapped using the bow-print fabric for the main part of the dress, I had all this fabric left over. I was going to make a skirt with it, but then — horrors!! — I cut into it by mistake! Don't even ask me how it happened. It makes me shiver just thinking about ruining a yard of such cute fabric. It's destined to be a sleeveless summer top now. Or a headband — if I eff it up again!