tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88605396561215955252024-03-09T18:46:02.431-08:00The Damsel in this Dress Blog!Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.comBlogger284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-3927187451112073192018-07-18T06:14:00.003-07:002018-07-18T06:14:27.671-07:00The Past and The Future<span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
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Sometimes I think that the past holds the key to almost everything we want in the future!! For instance, I was using dull little scissors to cut out clothing for my Barbies LONG before I ever hopped onto a sewing machine to make a corset. I was happily roaming around craft festivals YEARS before I even knew that Renaissance Faires existed. And in both of those instances, I can clearly see how I was gently guided by the Universe so that I would have less resistance later on in my life when I wanted to do this for a living.<br /><br />One of my favorite examples of this phenomenon is actually found in my children! You see, my fourth kid, all the way there at the end, is a little girl named Lark Emmaline. She came to me when I was 15 years old. Not physically, though. I was working on a blueberry farm, and it was a breathtaking morning, with dew on the grass, big ripe berries, a light breeze, and the smell of the rich soil, mulch, grass, and produce! I was jamming out to Alanis Morrissette on my little Walkman and something compelled me to stop the music. I hit the little plastic button, and when I looked up, I saw this little bird hop over and tilt its head and look pointedly at me. I think I may have asked it what it wanted, and it pecked the ground and then flew away.<br />
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<br /><br />Sure, just a normal situation. Birds appear all the time. But, it got me thinking. I thought about how graceful and spirited birds were. I thought about how I loved watching the multitudes of birds fly around on the farm where I lived. I imagined how cool it would be to one day have some beautiful little children and to name them all after birds! Wow! Robin, Raven, Drake, Lark! There was wonderful names in there! That idea lodged inside of me, and whenever I thought about it in the future, it was a pleasant thought.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6XvPz1w2KFU2H0GPFT87_xfkWsqpiwPY0ypbuy2MsHf3we9yI9twS2_myRtAJjqnJm8gABc7LitSAKFLKfx6rZXhmTfro35UQ3z1CLvgkXxyzEpS2MBXgBB0iHCuo_FewLhVNrwjOGw/s1600/IMG_8656-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6XvPz1w2KFU2H0GPFT87_xfkWsqpiwPY0ypbuy2MsHf3we9yI9twS2_myRtAJjqnJm8gABc7LitSAKFLKfx6rZXhmTfro35UQ3z1CLvgkXxyzEpS2MBXgBB0iHCuo_FewLhVNrwjOGw/s640/IMG_8656-1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
Fast Forward 17 years later. Guess What? I didn't exactly get ALL bird names for my kids. I forgot that if I had a husband, he might have something to say about it. But, I DID get one little Lark, all the way at the end. I knew she was coming. I literally had no doubt. I didn't sit there and worry about it. I didn't beat myself up because it wasn't coming fast enough. I was in no hurry. I just had a peaceful, calm, yet excited <em>knowing</em> that she was coming. Oh my heavens. If I could have that feeling with EVERYTHING that I want in life, I think I would tear a hole in the space time continuum!<br /><br />The point is, I truly think that we, ourselves are the obstacles that stand in the way of what we, ourselves, WANT! So many times, I imagine something that I want, or see something that sparks a desire in me, and then I immediately go to work trying to put out that spark. "No, you haven't been able to achieve that in the past. There's no reason you should be able to get it now!" "Other people get lucky and get things like that, but that's not how you are." "I can't...I'm too old, too tired, too big, too small, too fat, too, too, too, too, too."<br /><br />And yet, imagine how it would feel is you felt that desire, and then you <em>allowed</em> it to come to you, as opposed to blocking it. I mean, I'm lucky enough to know how this feels. Look at my kids up there. I wanted a Lark. I got a Lark. I actually wanted 4 kids. I got those. I didn't worry about whether or not my body would be able to have them. I just sort of.....allowed it. I didn't force it. I didn't worry about it.<br /><br />Friends, you can feel if you are trying to force something to come to you. It's always accompanied with worry, strain, stress, confusion, and over-damn-thinking until your brain feels like it's going to explode. You'll feel like you've absolutely got to "figure it out" right now. Sometimes it gets so bad that you just want to shut down and give up. Sometimes you do.<br /><br />On the flip side, you can tell when something is coming to you. You feel excited. You feel enjoyment. You feel NO need to yell at people on the internet or criticize yourself or eat cake until you can't move. There is this joy, and I can hardly even explain it with human words. But, boy howdy, you HAVE to find a way to get rid of the negative energy surrounding the subject and causing you fear.<br /><br />Please, take from my story and see if you can allow something to happen in your life. We all want to vibrantly succeed. We all have desires, and I strongly feel that those desires want US too. Allow. Receive. Enjoy.Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-47289015428296597662018-04-25T05:46:00.001-07:002018-04-25T05:46:54.901-07:00I approve! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4snNjWPMSkeWSQZO4CPBnr1wptTkXobAiTsIDHENW9ii0a3MBmbcg1h1LK_rzdBzVQ4zGhO4L-gQMxePViWGYA4gR4ujwgtLF8SWEngDdvEcaaCTUYgZLfok2G9VbhKaIW0Mmavg59w/s1600/IMG_5875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4snNjWPMSkeWSQZO4CPBnr1wptTkXobAiTsIDHENW9ii0a3MBmbcg1h1LK_rzdBzVQ4zGhO4L-gQMxePViWGYA4gR4ujwgtLF8SWEngDdvEcaaCTUYgZLfok2G9VbhKaIW0Mmavg59w/s640/IMG_5875.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lark, on her first birthday, after thoroughly enjoying lemon cake!</td></tr>
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When I'm at the fridge, gazing into the depths for the 15th time in the last 20 minutes, and STILL finding nothing to soothe my panic, it's really good for me to ask myself TWO things. I am sure you've all heard these before, but reminders are helpful:</div>
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-Am I actually hungry?</div>
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Yes? Okay, what texture, flavor, or experience am I actually hungry for?</div>
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No? Okay, then...</div>
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-What am I ACTUALLY hungry for? *sigh* This one always makes me cry. Usually, when I am aimlessly hungry and trying to fill a void, there is one HUGE MAIN thing that I'm hungry for, and that is some sweet, vulnerable, self approval. It literally fixes everything for me if I take a huge breath and take a space and time to say, "You are doing an awesome job. You are doing the best you can. You are a kind, loving, giving woman, and many people love you. "</div>
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If I'm not reasonable at all, and I'm in the red zone, panicking because I had strong emotional reactions, I might have to start at a place like, "Even though you're in the very middle of eating this, I am happy that you are so in touch with your emotions, Michelle. It's really good that you are soothing yourself because you love yourself". This helped me last night, when I was in the middle of a handful of salty peanuts. I just told myself that I was grateful that I was eating those peanuts, and they were really damn good, and you know what? My breathing slowed down, and I laughed a little bit, and didn't need to eat any more peanuts. I still gave myself the love and approval that I needed, and I was suddenly okay. <span class="_47e3 _5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 0; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle;" title="wink emoticon"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" role="presentation" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/fb0/1.5/16/1f609.png" style="border: 0px; vertical-align: -3px;" width="16" /><span aria-hidden="true" class="_7oe" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0px; width: 0px;">;)</span></span></div>
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It's crazy, because a lot of us make this into a job for someone else...maybe our spouse, or our best friend, or the people we work with. We need them to notice us and approve of us BEFORE we can "approve" of ourselves.</div>
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Trust me, there is TONS more power in the question of "Do I approve of what I'm doing? Does this make me, myself happy?" than there is in blindly stumbling around trying to get others to approve of you.</div>
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And, as with the many ironies in life, I have found that when I truly, deeply, lovingly approve of myself, then all that static.....that worry, that self-talk and never-shutting-up-loud-brain-chatter.....it just falls away. It's enough to love and approve of myself. I don't need the food. I don't need the love "out there". It was in me all along!!</div>
Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-60518096042617447382018-04-12T16:50:00.003-07:002018-04-12T16:50:37.800-07:00The Best Thing that's Ever Happened to Me! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnADzq9v5zlSdPQNqFVY5Jgxs2tws0G2pMqaJKxcQ1w_vqUr1SIVmI_NTGMqBlwZrOMlE6FdgZdVuxrKp2G_vVHSFKIhVH2_ovuTVrK80-91HPXJwUZzX90kIXwAJotvKwT6brMZTEtc/s1600/bcollage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnADzq9v5zlSdPQNqFVY5Jgxs2tws0G2pMqaJKxcQ1w_vqUr1SIVmI_NTGMqBlwZrOMlE6FdgZdVuxrKp2G_vVHSFKIhVH2_ovuTVrK80-91HPXJwUZzX90kIXwAJotvKwT6brMZTEtc/s640/bcollage2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Hello beautiful friends!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I'm going to gift you one of my coping mechanisms that I have had to use a whole hecking lot lately! Now, I want you to know that this is only for incredibly imaginative minds. It does take a lot of brain power. Phew. Anyhow, here goes. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18px;"><strong><u>THIS is the BEST thing that's EVER HAPPENED to ME!!!</u></strong></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Yup, that's it. No frills. That is my affirmation. I'll tell you when I </span><em style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">first</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;"> used it for rills. I had been reading a fantastically wonderful book called "Thank and Grow Rich" by Pam Grout. She is actually the one who recommends this strange exercise in her book. I read it and chuckled, because 90% of her suggestions sound absolutely bonkers until you sincerely try them in your life, and then you humbly say "Oh, I'll be quiet now and let the magic work." And, the reason she suggests this is because she is trying to get you to be grateful for things that other, mediocre, miserable people totally miss because they are so focused on what they are not grateful for. I think this exercise is meant to BLAST your brain into gratitude mode.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Oh, yes. The first time I affirmed this. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">So, I was way out in my favorite place in this whole universe, the Oregon Coast. It's super easy to affirm that "It's the best thing that's ever happened to me." when I'm out in those misty, gray, rocky shores nestled next to forests and mountains. *sigh* This would have been two years ago, and I had just barely taken all of my inventory way out to the other end of the country and set it up at the Ohio Renaissance Festival. We had finished our first weekend, and I was so pleased and excited about my crew of girls out there working and representing my company. Life was good. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Then, my booth manager called. It's funny, because we rehearsed this beforehand. I told her that if she had bad news for me, she just needed to start off the call with, "Michelle....you are very beautiful." and then launch into the details of what had gone wrong. So, here we were. I was very beautiful.....BUT, 80 mph winds and torrential rains had ripped my tent down and the center pole was sticking out through a huge hole in the roof and one of the wall poles was bent into a U-shape and most of the corsets were on the ground and sopping wet. Holy night. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">And guys, I just need to let you know that this isn't some little EZ UP tent. I KNOW that festivals eat those for breakfast. This was a $4000 brand new tent that is the kind you see outside of car dealerships. It's meant to be a temporary, commercial grade structure for outdoor weather. And Ohio STILL ate it for breakfast! Anyhow, right there, in that red hot moment, I still said to myself- "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me." I didn't feel it. I was actually really pissed off that the very notion. BUT, it made my brain get to work. When you say something jarring like that, your brain automatically starts to ask "Why would this possibly be the best thing that's ever happened to me??" .</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyhogYo_qFyhsbEAof4J7R59f9exrPXSVbz5DVoy83j3MP7yITJ6WXTvGl3rEDzm0TOqf4wUM6xz2UA49zUxaYAMV01U8DHjABa4I0jDr2C8s_aY-3EIq-GWqs7cjMqq_MrO0rhb6SfI/s1600/bcollagesio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="714" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyhogYo_qFyhsbEAof4J7R59f9exrPXSVbz5DVoy83j3MP7yITJ6WXTvGl3rEDzm0TOqf4wUM6xz2UA49zUxaYAMV01U8DHjABa4I0jDr2C8s_aY-3EIq-GWqs7cjMqq_MrO0rhb6SfI/s640/bcollagesio.jpg" width="284" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I calmed down really quickly. I thought, "Well, this is rehearsal for any calamity. This is training for me to communicate better with my Ohio crew. This is good that it happened so early in the show, so that we can figure out a more secure option for the next 7 weekends. This is a WONDERFUL opportunity for me to just sit and be powerless in a situation and let other people step in and help me....which I hate....and it's good for me. And....now that I think about it, the corsets will dry, I am supported and loved, and there is no reason for me to NOT expect that this will all go wonderfully."</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Literally, the next second, I got another call. We had EASILY found another company to come and set up a tent. They said that they would give it to us for $800 rental for the whole next 8 weeks (that is so cheap, I'm still blown away!! Holy heck. The last tent rental I did in another city was $2000 for one weekend. yeah.) They would be there to set it up that day, AND all of the wet corsets had been hung up in the branches of the tree next to us, so we had this amazingly colorful corset tree that my girls sent me a picture of! It was all smoothed over and I went back to relaxing. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">That is the sheer, raw power of mindset. That is the power of "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me." I lovingly suggest that you try to use this the next time you are in the worst day of your life...or something's gone terribly wrong. Or....better yet, just breathe into it and, use it when you are having a wonderful, clear, happy day. Either way, the power of gratitude is unmatched in this universe, I'm convinced. And I'm grateful for that. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-59321568665223504122018-02-13T05:53:00.000-08:002018-02-13T05:53:03.056-08:00Dis-Heart-ening<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been digging around in my brain endeavoring to figure out why I still dislike Valentine's Day after all these years, even though I'm happily married to a wonderful man. I'm guessing the origins lay dormant in my high school years, where many other wretched programs in my brain have their roots.<br />
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For this one in particular, I'm thinking that it's Robert's fault. Yup. Robert. He was a couple years older than me, and exactly my type of guy. A loner. An outcast. Angular face with a light sprinkling of freckles to match his fiery red, spiky hair. Let's see.......Writes dark, tortured soul poetry in his beat up notebooks. Check. Strange sense of fashion that included making necklaces out of electrical spare parts. Double-check. Safety pins holding together all of the purposeful rips in his jeans. Man. This guy didn't even have to TRY with me.<br />
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Anyhow, I somehow managed to make it known that I wanted to be the subject of some of his anguished poetry, and we "dated" (in high school, it meant that I wrote him notes, agonized over him, and wrote his last name after my first name over and over again in fine cursive.) for maybe about 6 weeks, until he broke up with me around Valentine's Day.<br />
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He broke up with me because of my religion. Nice to know that religious persecution is still alive and well, eh? <br />
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Anyhooo, it's a funny thing. So, I have let this awkward, flailing, kid have all of this dominion over my life for years. Every time Valetine's Day would roll around, I would roll my eyes and plainly express my disdain as I reveled in my non-conformity. "Oh, puh-lease. This day is ridiculous. Putting red and pink together. Stupid hearts. Stupid bears. Stupid love."<br /><br />
And here I am at adulthood, and I've realized a few disheartening (hah! get the pun?) facts.<br />
-Every girl, and I do mean EVERY GIRL, has a huge list of dramatic tales about how guys have betrayed them, slashed their hearts, said the exact wrong things, and forced them to feel like crap about themselves! We have gotten onto this subject at work, and all of the gals who work for me have seemingly never-ending tales of woe. Essentially, we've all been hurt. Join the club.<br />
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-Similarly, every single person I know has some cement reason for being annoyed with Valentine's Day. This also, doesn't make me special when I get annoyed with it.<br />
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Honestly...friends......I am done with sounding like a victim. That is no longer a story that I want to tell about my life. Some equally insecure teenager may have "broken my heart", but I am the one who has chosen to bring that story up repeatedly for years and years and relive the heartache. Sadly, I've "broken" my own heart by playing that scenario over and over again WAY MORE than the one single time that some guy did the original heart-breaking. (You can learn to do a really helpful dialogue about this! There is a worksheet, and you can learn about it by reading Byron Katie's "Loving What Is". I will never stop pushing this book, because it's one of the most profound things I have ever used in my life!)<br />
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There's also the problem with perspective. You see, there are two sides to every story about a relationship. There are two narratives running, and each person thinks their story is reality. Who the heck is right? haha, you obviously? That's what I thought.<br />
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I have a wonderful, blessed life, here in my current space. I am so grateful that I had all of the relationships that I had through my life. They all taught me and shaped me, and I am better for it. I love that there is yet another commercialized, bastardized holiday that has its own decorations, traditions, and emotions. I love that they put red and pink together. Thank you, Valentine's Day.<br />
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Love,<br />
MichelleDamsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-30699129080605378872018-01-25T05:35:00.002-08:002018-01-25T05:35:52.935-08:00You're listening to JLSY 96.9 FM<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I am getting better and better all the time and celebrating seemingly small and insignificant milestones in my life. The milestone for today is that I was finally able to stop being JEALOUS of a woman and able to start celebrating her and being happy for her accomplishments. </span><br />
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<a href="https://www.loriharder.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/056A6480-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="533" height="640" src="https://www.loriharder.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/056A6480-1.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">It's funny. It sounds so dorky to me. Woot. Whistles and Clapping. I am not jealous! *kazoo trill* But seriously, friends, if you had heard the radio station that my brain has spent much of it's time on, you would be blown away by this information. I am sad to say that I've spent a very goodly chunk of my life thinking snippy, unkind little thoughts like, "Oh, yeah. It would be EASY for me to be positive and do awesome things if I LOOKED like that or if I had that MONEY that person does! I DON'T have those things! It's much harder for me! It's a struggle for someone like me, who doesn't have that stuff just EASILY come to them!!!" </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">And you know, if it wasn't necessarily that, I would just be stuck in a place of wanting what another person has, resenting myself for not being better, and then shaming myself for feeling bad. Nice. It's just a hecking downward spiral of hog swill. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I was blessed to read a book a few years ago that said something that struck me to my core! It was a book on "Emotional Freedom Tapping for Weight Loss" by Jessica Ortner, and she walks you though more careful, loving, deliberate self-talk that you use while you are gently tapping on meridian points on your body. It's all about reaching your subconscious, and reprogramming some of the crap you've lodged in there. Anyway, there was a big section of the book where she explained that you can't get to the body you want if you see that body as a threat and a danger. Wait, what? </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">She says that when you were maybe a teenager, and you and the people around you would view the "skinny, pretty, popular" girls at bitches, you were sending a message to your body that being that way is dangerous because then people like...um......YOURSELF would think you were a bitch. Holy crap, that is some trippy stuff. She said that when she was working with a lot of her clients, they had breakthroughs when they got to this point. They realized that they had quite literally been telling their bodies that it was not safe to be thin. Because they, themselves had shunned and belittled that very image. Or, perhaps that image and idea had caused them a tremendous amount of emotional pain. Your body is always trying to protect you and keep you safe, and if you've been sending messages for years like that, no WONDER it would be confused!</span><br />
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<a href="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/48/d1/24/48d1243c13e60a9927fbebade60f39ea--simple-reminders-rocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="325" data-original-width="326" height="319" src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/48/d1/24/48d1243c13e60a9927fbebade60f39ea--simple-reminders-rocks.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">It works really well with other aspects too. Just yesterday, my nanny mentioned someone that was "filthy rich" and I said, "My dear, I love you, but you must never say that phrase around me again." She was confused, and said, "What phrase?" I said, "You can call it 'clean rich'. You can call it 'blessed'. Do not call it filthy. I don't want my brain to think I would have to be filthy and bad if I were to become rich." She totally got it and thanked me. Perception change!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">And so, after actual months and months of PRACTICE in my brain, I don't feel this little stab of jealousy when I see this woman on social media. I have been practicing phrases like, "Wow! Good job! You are a freaking rock star! I KNEW you could do it!!" and I have been saying them silently to her through the ether. I have also stopped talking about or making fun of celebrities. When people around me do it, I just stay silent. I inwardly say, "I don't know that person, but I hope they have success and love themselves." It's funny, because this has all been the hardest part. It is FUNNY to talk about how short, crazy, and egotistical Tom Cruise is, right? But, I've stood my ground. In my mind, I just say things like, "I love Tom Cruise. I love how handsome he is. I love so many of the movies he has made. I hope is has even more money, more success, and more thick-soled shoes." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">And truly, friends, this is such a better station to have playing in my brain. It makes me feel light and free, smiling and excited. The other station, "JLSY 96.9 FM" made me feel gross about myself, yucky about the human race, and hopeless. I hope that you can all change the channel to a more loving one for you! </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;"> </span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-12687797773089591082018-01-10T05:14:00.001-08:002018-01-10T05:17:45.524-08:00Open up the Scary Container<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="8ilqh" data-offset-key="1kck7-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="1kck7-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">Recently, I have been reconnecting with some parts of me that I have been shoving away and hiding in a dark corner. I am bringing a sense of joy back into how I dress myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For the last 2 and a half years, I have just been in this weird space. I could see tons of beauty in others, but honestly couldn't find it in myself very much. I stopped wearing fun accessories. I stopped wearing fun shoes. I just sort of stopped. I had that damn track playing in my brain that every woman seems to have a copy of. You know. That one that says, "Yeah, I WOULD dress differently if I just looked how I wanted to! If my body was what I wanted!!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's easy to encourage others to do this. I see all shapes, sizes, colors, and varieties of women, and I just glory in them. I feel a PERSONAL victory when I see someone ELSE dress in this way that obviously makes them feel good and feel powerful. I get all giddy for them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Heck, that is what my whole entire livelihood is about! I help put women into clothing that makes them feel like themselves again!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But, yeah....being totally honest here, I haven't done it at all for myself. I had just been so disappointed in my body during pregnancy, after pregnancy, and through the labor process. It didn't go how I wanted. My healing was arduous. I didn't get to breastfeed. It goes on and on. I had been carrying that disappointment around with me like a lead weight, and it affected my life in lots larger of ways than I thought. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Through the last year or so, I have just hated packing my costumes to go to shows! I used to completely have my stuff together! I would bust out these amazing costumes and just be a powerhouse of awesome. I loved how I looked and felt when I was at my booth at renaissance festivals. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And this last year has just felt like one solid slump. I didn't look like "me". My costumes didn't bring me the normal joy. I didn't even bother with making myself new pieces. I just took my disappointment and shoved it down away, and I had fun dressing everyone else except myself. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">EEk! Look how young my kids were in this picture!! Goodness!!</td></tr>
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<span data-offset-key="dv14f-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I am only just BARELY opening up that container. You know....it's like the one that you put leftovers in and pushed to the back of the fridge. It's that one that you forgot about. It's that one that has started to stink, and you found the source of the stench, and now you are afraid to open it..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I just throw away the container...but I suspect that I need to clean this one out and dump the putrid rotting grossness into the trash. I want to fill this one with goodness again, but now I am in the process of cleaning it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am starting small. The other day, I bought myself some rainboots that are in the shape of cowgirl boots and they have a loud paisley print. I have been pulling out pictures like this one below, where I KNOW that I felt more like me, and I have been remembering what it felt like to....feel like me. ;) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is different for everyone, but I think that "feeling like me" involves adventure, a certain reckless abandonment of tradition, and a lot of colors from the appliances of the 1970s. It involves texture and color. It has nature, exploding with flowers and vines and life!! It involved an embarassing amount of leopard print. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What would feeling like "You" LOOK like? What gives you life? What makes you excited? What makes you feel aligned and centered? I know you can find it. I know I can find it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am starting today. I am opening that container back up. </span></div>
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Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-58835096042448849052017-12-21T05:52:00.001-08:002017-12-21T05:56:00.519-08:00The Delicate Tuba Player<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I would just like to say a few things about goals and to-do lists here. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I've always avoided this type of thing. I would make a list of things I wanted to accomplish. I would get about 2 out of 37 of them checked off. I would feel like a failure. I would tell myself, "Michelle, you shouldn't even try to make lists. You are jinxing yourself and calling in the powers of the universe to thwart you every time you make a list of what you want to do!" I actually felt like I was cursing myself more than helping myself. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">It was the same thing with goals. I would sit down and write these lofty things that I dreamed of coming true! I would imagine them, envision them, anticipate them, FEEL them being true, just like all the self-help books I had read. And.....wah, wah. The goals wouldn't even begin to come to fruition. More disappointment. More "accepting" of the "way the world works." </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">And yet, I can't stop. None of us can ever stop. We actually cannot say "I'm good where I am" and remain, as much as we want to. Even if we perceive any changes in ourselves, the world changes around us, and then we have to adapt. We don't ever get to stay. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">It occurred to me that goals might be sort of like when I decided to play the tuba my senior year of high school. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I think I've told this story before, but it bears repeating. So, I played bass clarinet in marching band all through high school, until my very last year, when I wanted a challenge! I decided that I would like to play a new instrument, and when I thought of what would be the most beneficial, I had this glorious revelation! If I played something HUGE and cumbersome, like the tuba, I would look "dainty" and "slight" next to it. I had always been concerned that my weight had kept boys from being attracted to me, especially compared next to my beautiful half Native American friend who was about 4 inches taller and 50 pounds lighter. I was always just grasping frantically at what I could do to make myself stand out next to her, when I felt so chubby and average.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I love my younger self for hatching this plan. It's still funny to me that I honestly imagined that playing a tuba would make me sexy. I think that might be an oxymoron. ;) Yet, I remember being a teenager and laying there in bed at night before competitions, imagining myself proudly gliding around the football field in my formations, while scores of handsome, intelligent, witty, cultured, almost-men sat in the stands with their jaws slack and their attention riveted on how RADIANT that gorgeous tuba player was!!! Wow.....next to that huge spit-valve clogged tuba.....that girl just looks soo.....skinny!! (and I think it goes without saying that my pubescent, Jane Austen fueled fantasies also featured these men in breeches and coat-tails, clapping their hands and exclaiming "Capital! Capital!" in roguish British accents!)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">*sigh* Do you guys see why I build corsets for a living? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">Ah, here we are. Photographic evidence. See? I told you. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">Well, friends. I can't say my plan worked. I can't say my dreams came true. Who would have even thought that it would actually REPEL boys? Certainly not teenage me. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">And yet.....</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I had more fun than I had ever had in my life. I was challenged every day. I had imagined SO hard that I was beautiful, delicate and fine in my tubarific trills that I almost started to feel that way. Despite the outward appearances, I still held fast. And you know, it's the feelings that matter anyhow. We don't do anything for the actual thing. We do it for the feelings that we imagine that thing will acquire for us. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">Imagining wonderful things for our lives almost gives us that feeling without us even having to do the work! That excitement, that thrill of the unknown and the hoped for.....that is sometimes more delicious that the end result itself. I know we have all wanted something fiercely until we actually had it, and then the magic was somehow lost. Is the </span><em style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">magic</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;"> in the </span><em style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">yearning</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">I now have this wonderful story to tell you from my life, and it's integral to who I am today. I still get out there and strut my stuff in a big, sometimes uncomfortably non-conformist way. I still probably imagine myself as more of a bad-A than I actually am.....and that's totally okay. Those goals and checklists and tasks help us to keep aspiring, changing and dreaming. And I heard something that I loved the other day. There was a guy in a podcast, and he just said something like, "You've never failed if you're still in the game." Oh....yeah.....I guess so. I didn't give up. I can't give up, because I am always changing and evolving. I'm still in the game. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 16px;">And I look very dainty doing it. </span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-51987601043835115562017-12-14T05:21:00.002-08:002017-12-14T05:21:42.316-08:00Air MattressesThe first year I did the Oklahoma Renaissance Festival in Muskogee, OK was one of the most humbling learning experiences I have ever been blessed with. (Now, friends in Oklahoma, before you say "Michelle! You should do this show! We need you back! Keep in mind that I have submitted applications and been denied. Who knows why? Meh. I always feel a little icicle stab in my heart when people say "Oh my gosh, you HAVE to do this renaissance festival! You will sell out!" and I think, "Um...I've submitted applications to that show and been denied for 5 years in a row. Thanks for the painful reminder." Basically, with a lot of these festivals, the only way "in" if you are a costumer is if someone dies. I'm serious. Ah, but I digress...) <br />
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<br /><br />That part of the Midwest is just as humid, full of blood-sucking bugs, and sweltering as where I grew up in Missouri. Now, I would like to say, I LOVE the Oklahoman People. They are as stubborn as they come, and I genuinely like the accent. It's a bit Texas, but with Midwestern thrown in. You definitely are always called "Ya'all", even if they're just talking to you, yourself. For instance, "So, Michelle, ya'all wanna go get some BBQ?" (speaking to just me). I also love that tornadoes will absolutely ravish them every year, and they almost just casually shrug their shoulders and brush it off. People, I have been in tornadoes! Big ones. Anyone who can happily survive those is stalwart and worthy of your praise.<br /><br />But, back to the festival.<br /><br />I decided to save money by camping onsite with the other vendors. I super respect people who can do this year after year. I am apparently a total pampered wimp when it comes to camping. Or maybe it was the air mattresses that didn't seem to think it pertinent to be filled with air. All I know is that we crammed 8 people into what was probably a 6 person tent, and the air mattresses perniciously glued their sappy vinyl to our moist, simmering skin and clung to us during the heat-filled night while they silently got lower and lower to the ground, leaving us on a bed of rocks and twigs in the morning. My younger sister always managed to get rolled over into a crack between the two offending mattresses, and I would wake up in the night to her desperate sniffling and quiet sobbing, as she marinaded in her own misery.<br /><br />We would get done with a long hot day of working the festival, and return back to camp exhausted. However, instead of some sweet respite, my sister-in-law Jill and I had to take care of the little toddlers we had at the time, as well as endeavoring to persevere through early stages of pregnancy. That year, we were scheduled to have more babies, with due dates one month apart. We alternately took turns throwing up behind the booth in the mornings, and at night, we would high-five each other as we walked past in the dark, boggy woods, making our way to go and urinate on what was probably a patch of poison ivy. Elegance at its finest.<br /><br />One of the reasons that I know that this job is the right one for me is because I still ENJOYED myself, even while I was miserable. It's sort of like those early stages of a relationship. You are agonizing over ever glance, every text (or phone call, from my day), every touch. It's painful, and somehow delicious. You want more. I think that perhaps, you are feeling desirable and special, and that feeling is a drug. You are finally seeing yourself through another pair of eyes....and those eyes see you for how special you are.<br />
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<br /><br />When you attempt to do something difficult, but you also find a small level of success, you start to see yourself with those eyes again. You say, "Wow, that version of me is awesome." However, just like relationships, you can get complacent. Your vision gets obscured by what people call "reality" and you lose that love and fire. There's no longer this symbiotic relationship where you both feed excitement and desire into each other while also soaking in the passion from the other person. Instead, there can be the disappointments, the setbacks, the shortcomings. The touch that gave you a wild, scattering of nerves now gets batted away.<br /><br />I have to keep my love for my JOB alive just like the love in my relationship with my husband. I choose to wake up every morning and feel excited about both of them. I got to sleep at night just awash in sweet gratitude for my good fortune. Now, it IS totally easy to slip back into the other realm of existence where I am frustrated, defensive and looking for flaws. The thing is, I started this whole entire business based on bold choices. Bold choices to jump headlong into doing large festivals. The boldness of selling my pieces for what they are worth. The boldness of making costumes for a whole entire living. It I started out with boldness, and found the joy in the journey along the way, then it makes sense to continue on, fearless, and loving every moment.<br /><br />As always, thank you deeply for your support. I want you all to know that I choose that same passion and fire for you. I wouldn't sleep on dying air mattresses in the woods for just anyone. Ya'all are special to me. ;)Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-57300583916885370802017-12-07T05:03:00.001-08:002017-12-07T05:03:02.843-08:00I never posted this blog....because it was real dang depressing. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">So, when I am so pent up full of negative energy, usually I blast out words into whatever space I have. I get the words out of me onto whatever medium is in front of me, be it a computer, a phone, or a notebook. As such, there is a lot of things that I started out as a blog post, and then could not bring myself to finish, because when I read it, I thought, "This came from a deeply negative place of lack and jealousy and hopelessness, and I DO NOT want to spread more of that out into the world." </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Anyhow, I am pulling this blog post back out, even though it was written back in February. I'm going to soothe my former self by talking to her from a better perspective that I have now. I'm really grateful that I wrote this negative thing, because I honestly hadn't remembered being that...well...pissed off. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Anyhow, the CURRENT me that is soothing and consoling will all be highlighted in a nice, girly pink color. The original stuff is just left as is. Hopefully this will help any of you who are in a negative, stuck space. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">And so, we begin. </span></div>
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Huh.....You know, I'm super grateful for motivational things. I'm a junkie. I have to consume a WHOLE lot of happyhappyjoyjoy type of information to help counter-balance the crazy crap that would otherwise play in my brain like a power song from the 80s on a never-ending loop. (This week, I have had "We Built this City on Rock and Roll" in my head for about 95% of every day.)<br />
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*I must have been an 80's radio DJ in some former life....the only problem is that I was born in the 80s....so my past life wasn't that far from my current one! ;) </span><br />
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All the same...is there some broken part of me that wants to use sarcasm as a deflection shield against <i>too</i> positive of things? <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Yes, Michelle. It's a real thing. When you see someone that is on a different level than you, there is that huge gap between where you are currently (which will pass) and where that person "seems" to be in their life. The disparity CAN be used as a tool. You can say "Oh, see that awesome over there? More of that, please? Start focusing on loving, loving, loving, and you can start taking small steps up to where that feeling is that you want!! </span> I know a woman who is so good looking and flawless that it makes me want to hide in a corner and suck my thumb. Granted, she has worked her rear off for it, blah, blah, blah, and somehow Pinterest decided that I would like to follow her since she was one of my facebook friends, and so I've been getting all of the pins that are her fitness inspirations. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;"> *Well...future Michelle is struggling with this about....50% less. I'm working on being happy for other people in my brain. If I can't be happy for people's successes, how could other people be expected to be happy for my own? </span> Now, the "fitspo" thing itself is actually really interesting, because apparently it's linked to a plethora of eating disorders and leads you down a dark tunnel of "thinspo". Holy night. I don't have the time, education or mental stamina to even touch this subject. Suffice it to say, you can really jack up your brain looking at photographs. But....see, that's the thing. Maybe these "sweat hard and ponytails" type of mantras and memes work?? Like....does this beautiful woman I know read one of these and think, "Hecks yeah! I'm going to leap out of my chair and do 500 burpees right now because I'm hot and the harder the pain, the better the gain!!"???<br />
<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*I've talked to my brother about this since. He is a wonderful inspiration for me, and he has a facebook video he posted this year where he bench-pressed 405 pounds!! Twice!!! He said that every personality works differently with motivation. What totally pumps some up will make others not get out of bed. It's important to follow what works for you and pay attention to how you feel and what you accomplish afterwards! Thanks, Dana, you beautiful bearded man!!</span><br />
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I hate to say it, but this up there is probably the reality of how my brain sounds about 75% of the time. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*I love you, Michelle from February 2017. I love that you went and found a blob fish to make your own demotivational poster. You are freaking hilarious, and I can see that more and more now!</span> I have been trying my guts out to change how it sounds, but that voice is just...um....really loud and persuasive. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*I am just going to step in here and say "Thank GOODNESS I got a coach. I put off getting a business/life coach for years. When I first heard the term, I rolled my eyes and made fun of anyone who would ever get a "life coach". Well....about 6 months in, I'm feeling better than I have in a long, long time. I have doubled my income, I have knocked out 3 huge goals that I've had sitting on my brain for 10 years, and I got them done in the last 3 months....hmm....Anyhow, my amazing, wonderful coach Amy <a href="http://divineunlimitedpossibilities.com/index.php/tag/amy-anfinson/" target="_blank">http://divineunlimitedpossibilities.com/index.php/tag/amy-anfinson/</a> told me that the negative voice "seems" to be louder because I've been listening to it more. It's like if you had only listened to a certain political view for your whole life. When you hear the other side, you are so uncomfortable that you feel rage! It's similar with negative voices. You might be used to them, and when someone says, "You are worthy and you are capable of anything" it might make you want to troll that positive voice on the internet and compare it to Hitler! Let me just put in another plug for Amy here. I spent about a year and a half saying "No, I don't need any help. I am doing this all on my own!" while I watched my oldest brother go from making $40,000 a year to $250,000 the next year while he was using her as a coach. Basically, look at any successful person out there, and I can guarantee you, they had a really good mentor. Thanks, Amy!! </span><br />
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When I hear OTHER people talk like this, I usually throw a fit and tell them how spectacular they are. If my sister is having a day where she feels worthless, the explosion of passion that I feel to the contrary is potent indeed. In my brain, suddenly this voice comes out of nowhere and has all of these sensational, heartfelt, pure-love-buzz things that I want to shout from the mountaintops! "What? Look at you! You're so intelligent, witty, talented, consistent, loyal, warm!! You are so beautiful to me that I cry when I think of you, because I love you SOOO much!" Yet, that voice just hasn't been good at coming out of the woodwork when I personally need it. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;"> *Once again, it's about whatever "station" you are tuned into. Just because you are sitting there, watching this reality unfold in your brain on one channel DOESN'T mean that there isn't thousands of other channels available and happening at the same time. Just because you're watching "Modern Family" doesn't mean that "Keeping up with the Kardashians" doesn't exist!! (although, that is a beautiful reality, right there....) You can "tune in" to any reality and narration you want. You created and rehearsed this "story" of how your life is, and you can write another story and listen to that!</span><br />
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That's probably 99% of the reason I just haven't been able to even write in my Damsel in this Dress blog for about the past year. My brain sounded so depressing that I thought, "Oh my heck, there is enough drama and depressing crap on the internet without me adding to it!" What the world needs now....is love, sweet love.<br />
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So, here. Some love. But, by golly, I just look at inspirational stuff like this and want to.....I don't know....troll it on the internet! (that was the worst thing I could think of to do at this hour in the morning.) <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*Huh...funny, I mentioned "trolling things on the internet up there as well. I must still be sensitive to it! ;) I</span> look at "before and after" type pictures and roll my eyes. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*Which is great. I am literally WRITING a BEFORE & AFTER blog. Nice, Nice. </span>I read inspirational stories about startups that turned around and sold their company for millions of dollars a couple of years later. All of that stuff seems so static. It's fairy tales. It's stuff that happens to "those" type of people....not to me. <span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">*Which is totally great, because you just posted PROUDLY about what fairy tale type of crap happened to you later this very same year!! Good job, Michelle!! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Back to just me. I'm hoping that this back and forth between the past me and the current me has been helpful! This was a real blog post that I found this morning and I had totally forgotten about it! I'm just wanting to PROVE that when you change your thoughts, you change your life. I've always been a little scared to share the fact that I'm really successful with people. I was worried they would want to drag me down. Yeah, I had some people that wanted to drag me down, but guess what's awesome? The "block" person button on facebook. :D However, the success has ONLY come because of some major lows and some real freaking dark stuff. I'm so grateful for the contrasts of my life! They make the good times sweeter, better, and more palpable! </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">And, one more time. If you need help, get a mentor. Get a coach. Reach UP. Stop reaching down. The answers you need aren't down there. They are up. I love you all. I love my past self. I love my current self. I love my future self. </span><br />
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Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-91973931333287688742017-11-20T06:00:00.000-08:002017-11-20T06:00:05.706-08:00Grab Bag RULES and Details for 2017! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay! It's that time of year again! The MOST wonderful time of the year!! I'm here to give you some details about our Grab Bags this year, so listen carefully, pull up a chair, get yourself a cup of hot cocoa (I'm cutting down on my sugar and I like weird health foody things, so the cocoa that I'm drinking is actually made of reishi mushrooms....yeah.....) and indulge in the details!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Why This Sale Happens!</u></span></b><br />
*Every year we have this sale to clear out specific types of items. When I am producing corsets through the year for my shows, I always try to make sure to have a very good size range, and it's one of the most important things to me to endeavor to fit EVERY lady that walks into my booth. I like to have a booth that is filled with possibilities for every size, and doesn't leave anyone out! Therefore, when I have wonderful success, like I always do, and I sell out a ton of the sizes, I'm left with these lonely pieces. When ladies come in and squeal with delight because they've found the perfect fabric for them, only to find that I have 3 sizes left, and none of them will fit....well...it's not how I want to live my life.<br />
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*Additionally, it's good to remember that lots of my time in my days is spent building relationships with fabric suppliers so that I can get better wholesale deals on the raw materials so that I can keep passing on the savings to you. Trust me, I'm not going over to JoAnn and paying retail for my fabrics. These corsets would have to be marked up to about 4 times the price if I had to pay out that much. However, to get my good prices, I have to tell the supplier that I will buy WHOLE bolts (about $1,200 each for our beautiful chenille upholstery) and I have to tell them that I will also be buying 10 of those bolts at a time. Money talks, people. My suppliers also offer deep discounts if I will buy discontinued fabrics WITHOUT being able to see them first! Gasp, it's sort of like what I'm doing to you with the grab bags!! Anyhow, when we have corsets that are made out of discontinued fabrics, and I obviously can't restock my sizes, they go into these Grab Bags. The great thing is that means they are a lot more rare, special, and unicorn-y!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: #d0e0e3;">WHEN: </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: #d0e0e3;">Black Friday, November 24th, 2017 at 7 AM MST (That is Mountain Time. This will be 9 AM East Coast, 8 AM Central, and 6 AM West Coast)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: #d0e0e3;">Cyber Monday, November 27th, 2017 at 7 PM MST (Same time breakdown as above. only in the evening!)</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>HOW the Levels Work!</b></span></div>
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*I will try to make this brief. Since we don't only do corsets, we also have other wonderful handmade items in the bags as well! When we are packing, we TRY to make things match, but after we've packaged up 100 boxes, the pickings might start to get sparse. That's why we pack up the most expensive boxes with the most items FIRST, and then when all of the extra skirts, blouses, and other things are gone, we do Level 1 boxes, which only have the deeply discounted corset. </div>
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*Speaking of "extra items", these are the fun, marvelous things that we make through the year to match with our corsets. This could be blouses, cropped vests, cloaks, hooded vests, ruffle harnesses, tie-on peplum ruffles, bustle skirts, full length skirts, carousel skirts, all the style of skirts, detachable hoods, detachable sleeves, and all manner of wonderous things! This year is our best skirt selection ever. I did something that I've NEVER done, and just took my WHOLE ENTIRE skirt inventory and put them into the boxes, regardless of whether or not they would normally qualify. </div>
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*So, about the Levels.</div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">*Level 1: Corset Only </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">UNDERBUST PRICE: $50 + $20 s&h </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">OVERBUST: $75 + $20 s&h</span></b></div>
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You will know if the corset is underbust (goes underneath the breasts) or overbust (goes up over them, more like the fit of a bra). You will know the waist size of the corset (remember, we measure the corsets by pulling THEM tight, like they would be on a human being. I've had people send me pictures where they just laid a measuring tape on the corset to measure it. Well, friends...the corset doesn't just "lay" gently on your body..it's pulled extremely tight and supports! We try to be as accurate as possible!) but you won't know color, style, or any other details. </div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">*Level 2: Corset + 1 Item</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">UNDERBUST PRICE: $100 + $25 s&h</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">OVERBUST PRICE: $125 + $25 s&h</span></b></div>
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Same info on the corsets as above. This will include one other item. I know that this year's packages have a lot of beautiful, soft, wintery cloaks along with the corsets. Holy NIGHT, I'm generous!!</div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">*Level 3: Corset + 2 Items</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">UNDERBUST PRICE: $200 + $38 s&h</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;">OVERBUST PRICE: $250 + $38 s&h</span></b></div>
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Same info on corsets. We try to put the corsets in here the are a little bit more expensive to begin with. I know we have a lot of gorgeous Voyager Corsets (Retail $179-$209) and Over-Archer Corsets (Retail $225 to $250). When my team is packing these, I tell them to try to add up the math on the items as they are packing and be sure that everything is AT THE VERY LEAST 30% off of everything, but I would say that they are more like HALF OFF. Anyhow, the two other items along with the corset are also probably going to be more pricey pieces. We really do try to be generous with these bags! </div>
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<span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>*Level 4: Tailed Corset or Peplum Ruffle Corset. Fancier, Coat-Style Corsets that are the Premier Line of what we produce!</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>+ 3 Other Items!</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>***If the coat has matching sleeves, the sleeves count as an item!***</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>Underbust: $250 + $38 S&H</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: orange; font-size: large;"><b>Overbust: $300 + $38 S&H</b></span><br />
These are our Deluxe packages, with the most expensive, most sought-after items in them! They are the ones that are most likely to match, and the bags that are the most likely to cause people to get into online fights.(haha, not really. I've been amazed at how kind and supportive you all have been!). This year, I know that we have a TON of gorgeous Peplum Ruffle Corsets. I'm really excited about these ones! Just the other day, I was packing an overbust coat with a retail price of $459 along with a full length bustle skirt ($129) a blouse ($39) and a pair of bloomers ($49). Holy crap!!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How to Buy:</span></b><br />
So, the reason that we switched to posting these items on facebook is because we have broken etsy several times, as well as my own site, when people were all purchasing as the exact same SECOND! With the facebook commenting program, when you comment<span style="background-color: orange;"> sold </span>(with NO capitalization, punctuation, extra comments, or anything!) Soldsie captures those comments in the exact order that they come in. We can see on the back end who comments first. If your facebook is set to see the most "popular" comments first, instead of seeing the comments in the order they come in, you might see your comment at the top and get all excited. Be sure that your facebook is set the proper way!<br />
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Here is an example of how it would work. I want a Level 3 Underbust Grab Bag in a size 29. When I see that <i>exact item</i> pop up on facebook (items are auto-posted every 15 seconds. We don't do this manually!) , I will comment <span style="background-color: orange;">sold </span> If I have <u>already pre-registered</u> with Soldsie, then I will go to my email that I used to sign up, and there will be an invoice that I can pay! I pay with either a credit card or paypal, and I gleefully await my wonder package! If I haven't registered, Soldsie will comment BELOW my sold comment with a registration link. I register, pay, and then I'm on my way!<br />
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*You only have 30 Minutes to pay your invoice! <br />
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*If you don't pay within 30 minutes, it goes to the next person in line that commented after you! Normally, you could "authorize" your funds and be moved to the front of the line, even before people that commented before you. You would be saying "Here's my money, authorized, take it!" However, we had a lot of problems with banks holding funds for a stupid amount of time last year. It wasn't on our end, it was up to the banks, but good glory!<br />
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*If you purchase two bags, don't wait to see if you've gotten them both before you pay! It's best if you don't just comment on several things and hope to win one like a lottery. I've had people that just commented on several things because they were worried they wouldn't get even one, but then they ended up with 3 or 4 invoices that they couldn't afford. It generally makes it more difficult for others. Only comment on the things that you are willing to buy.<br />
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<b><u>*No Combined Shipping! </u></b><br />
I have already paid my crew of about 10 people to work every day, all day, for the last two weeks to ONLY do packaging. We absolutely cannot afford to un-package everything and try to re-combine, re-box, reprint different labels, and keep everything straight. Sorry, guys.<br />
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We get one invoice. We get the box. We put the shipping label on the box. We ship it.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Bonus!</u></b></span><br />
*Every package will come with two ribbons, a business card, a cute little button, a sticker, and TWO $20 OFF coupons! Wow, so that's like another $40. Heck yes!<br />
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<br />Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-40654498772154353922017-11-09T05:25:00.000-08:002017-11-09T05:25:44.803-08:00Grow a Pear<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Saturday mornings should have been classically glorious when I was younger, but the second it started getting to be springtime, my parents would designate Saturday mornings for yard cleaning. I can hardly blame them. I mean, I only have four kids and they completely wreck my house in a matter of minutes! Having eight kids, like my parents did? Yeah...I would make them freaking clean. Anyhow, we lived on a huge farm, as I have mentioned several times. Our yard probably covered about an acre or so, which is real dang huge, and we were all sent out to make an attempt at cleaning. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Southwest Missouri is wild and unkempt. Things flourish when you don't want them and they die and wither when you do want them. For instance, we had masses of blackberry briar patches that would scare the pants off of Brer Rabbit. Wait..was he wearing pants? Anyhow, our whole land was filled with strange plants that just blasted from the earth and refused to be chopped down, rooted up, or burned with fire. One morning, in particular, we were burning things. Obviously, this wasn't a bad job for us to do. I mean, destroy on purpose? Check me in. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">We were supposed to be doing our burning chores, but my younger sister suddenly got distracted. "Look!", she yelled, pointing upwards to the heavens. There, at the very top of our pear tree was one single, shimmering pear. Well, "shimmering" is not a fair adjective. This pair tree was jacked. None of use knew what to do with fruit trees, and we didn't quite have a trusting relationship with this tree in particular. It grew pears that my sister lovingly named "Leprosy Pears". The skin on them was mottled, thick, and a hideous brownish green. Not unlike the Orcs from "Lord of the Rings." I'm serious. They were an atrocity. The irony is that they were some of the best pears I had ever tasted. Sweet, but not overly so. Hardened and crispy to the point that we could have used them to prop up dead cars instead of the cinder blocks that were currently assisting us. (Cliche, right?). I honestly liked these horrible, weird pears. Then again, that should come as no surprise to any of you who know me. You might look at some of my personal costumes and think, "Oh my gosh, she got her inspiration from the Leprosy Pears!" </span><br />
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<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">So, here was this one pear. Fruit trees are strange in the fact that some years, the bumper crop is so profuse that you could solve world hunger if you could just transport the dang harvest, but then the next year the tree will produce only a few measly little offerings. (Honestly, perhaps I should learn from nature here. Sometimes, you push hard and produce. Sometimes, you take a break and don't impress anyone. ;) ) My sister, my brother, and I KNEW we had to get to this pear. There was no way that we could climb this treacherous tree, because the unpruned branches got more and more spindly and sparse as they traveled up to the top, where the pear was. We decided to just start throwing things to knock it down. Whoever felled it to the earth would gain victory over the Leprosy Pear and get to feast on its vessel!</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">The only problem is that the pear would not come down. The only other problem was that we weren't doing our burning chores. The only other, more different problem was that my Dad was overseeing the burning, and his kids were no where to be found. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Okay, so if you've ever watched "Parks & Recreation", then you have a good idea of who Dad is. He's sort of Ron Swanson with even less patience for stupidity. Everyone else thinks that they know a guy who is a hard worker. Your hard worker cannot beat my Dad. Sorry, I know I sound like a kindergartener here, but I'm right. He sacrificed every single day of his life for his huge family. He knows how to do everything! He is the best finish carpenter in the history of history. He's worked on mansions worth millions of dollars. He's put all sorts of fancy carved columns in all sorts of fancy places. He has built two different houses for my family from the ground up. He only speaks wise words. He doesn't fill up conversations with useless niceties. And, holy hell, he does NOT tolerate people goofing off when they are supposed to be doing their burning chores!!!</span><br />
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<a href="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/enhanced/webdr06/2013/4/6/13/enhanced-buzz-8617-1365269089-0.jpg?downsize=715:*&output-format=auto&output-quality=auto" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="495" height="353" src="https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/enhanced/webdr06/2013/4/6/13/enhanced-buzz-8617-1365269089-0.jpg?downsize=715:*&output-format=auto&output-quality=auto" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I think I had just thrown a <i>shovel</i> up into the air hoping to hit the pear. True story. Then, I heard some twigs snapping and the sound of footsteps. My blood ran cold as my I turned slowly to behold the dark shape of my father walking out of the mists of smoke. All of us kids just stood there in terror, rooted in place and trembling at the amount of "not work" that we had accomplished. I just knew I was going to get in serious trouble. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">My dad silently tromped forward, stopped next to us, bent down, picked up a faded red plastic Fisher Price wheelbarrow, flung it heavenward, and knocked. the. pear. down. First try. He stooped down, picked it up, and handed it to us. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Oh my gosh. What just happened? We didn't get our "butts whupped" (that's how you do it in Southwest Missouri). We didn't get in trouble. I honestly just remember us all quietly going in and eating lunch. Also the Leprosy Pear. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I still think of this story all the time when I feel overworked, overwhelmed, and underappreciated. When I remind myself to "stop and smell the roses", I oftentimes snicker to myself and say, "Michelle, just stop and knock down the pear." </span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-1472670916692148932017-10-25T04:42:00.001-07:002017-10-25T04:42:56.747-07:00Pop Your Balloon<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLTSR4N7mmrYB8KHyDDrfGkylAiL1A4r-zIaAofgpEdXnqChN7-Zimeqe-D4tGYlj00r9oMD9v3vCndNgFWTcXtOo86-0v1SwUOngXIfhk9PPzv5rOWBCK23ZJJYtZtTq46f-thrC1LI/s1600/HoodedVixenPreviewWebsite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLTSR4N7mmrYB8KHyDDrfGkylAiL1A4r-zIaAofgpEdXnqChN7-Zimeqe-D4tGYlj00r9oMD9v3vCndNgFWTcXtOo86-0v1SwUOngXIfhk9PPzv5rOWBCK23ZJJYtZtTq46f-thrC1LI/s640/HoodedVixenPreviewWebsite.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corsets in all their glory! Now on the website!!</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">The hottest boy in my fourth grade class was named Eb Scroggins. I know, right? What's more is that his brother was named Obe, and his brother's BEST FRIEND was named Zeb Sturgeon. Holy night! You can't make this stuff up. So, Eb had a sweet early-90's buzz cut, a surprisingly strong jawline for his age, and freaking dimples. Yup, all the girls were in love. In particular was the most popular girl in the class (It's so nice that the popular kids always end up in love....right? I mean, in the movies, the popular kid goes bravely outside their circle to befriend a loner....a strange, quirky, witty delight that ends up.....having to change themselves to become another one of the crowd. Huh. That's depressing. Phew, back to the story!) named Jessica Tatum. It's always a Jessica, isn't it? (sorry to the GOOD Jessicas out in the world! I know and cherish a few of you....but your name has been soiled.)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">The coolest kids in the class formed a soccer group at recess, and it was super elite. Like, we're talking Skull & Crossbones Society type of crap here. I certainly wasn't part of the group, but my friend Brenda had managed her way in, which is where this story comes from. You see, all the girls in class were all sorts of jealous of Jessica Tatum, because she had blond highlighted hair and it managed to never lose it's perfectly curled 90s glory. She also had..um..."bloomed" rather early, and as all of us women with breasts know, you can't stand it when you don't have them, and then when you have them, you complain about them..?? (My deepest gratitude goes out to the few of my customers who have just been happy with their breast size. Way to go! And no need to launch into an attack about how the too big of breasts hurt your back. I know that, gals. I have heard everything and anything about breasts over the years of doing corsets. ;) Trust me, gratitude takes you miles further than disappointment and complaining.)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Anyhow, Jessica and Eb were "going out" together, which I believe means to literally "look at each other and giggle sometimes, pass maybe 5-6 notes a week, and hang out within around 20 feet of each other at recess." They were always down on the soccer field of elitism, looking cool, and doing whatever cool kids do. One day, they were in a particularly aggressive game, and Eb had to leap in and push someone out of the way to get to the ball. That someone was wearing a white shirt. That someone suddenly had an inexplicable and sudden splat of brown goo leaking out of that white shirt right up in the chest area. That someone was Jessica Tatum. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Apparently, Jessica had been stuffing her little training bra with water balloons filled with chocolate pudding! I mean, I'm not sure if it was always chocolate..maybe sometimes it was vanilla, but holy FREAK, pudding!!!!! Part of me looks back and admires the creativity, and part of me wonders what was wrong with basic wadded up toilet paper. Yeah, so Jessica ran off the field very quickly and her mother came to pick her up. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">We didn't see her for another week. I'm not sure what was going on in her little brain. Honestly, I've never understood the brains of the girls who just naturally have that "certain something" and attract all people to them like sugary drinks attract insects. Like..if you got inside their brain, do they actually, on some level, BELIEVE, "Yeah, all boys like me. Girls like me and are jealous of me. Everyone wants to be with me." Or is it like the narration in my own brain, which..uh....certainly doesn't sound like that?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">The crazy part is that she still came back to school with head held high, no one ever talked about it again (except here on my blog.......and no, I didn't change the names to protect the innocent. The names were too perfect. Sorry, guys!), AND she still had perky, early blossomed breasts. Holy cow! It was a Martha Stewart level comeback!! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzsGnMjF-6aJNJG8_TGRjESr2o56aMwBOdtbs0PQHmrja1ojkHRPttQLJ8xuDVa2QkwaJHEEZEsov29wqz0sswL5VmwvxjCw6w_KW_LzUwj_HPozb5OS8JLDuiNz5NH5gT42HK9j4gB4/s1600/IMG_20150709_172817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzsGnMjF-6aJNJG8_TGRjESr2o56aMwBOdtbs0PQHmrja1ojkHRPttQLJ8xuDVa2QkwaJHEEZEsov29wqz0sswL5VmwvxjCw6w_KW_LzUwj_HPozb5OS8JLDuiNz5NH5gT42HK9j4gB4/s400/IMG_20150709_172817.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">I've always took this story and used it as an illustration in my life to show me two things. Number One, you can handle a LOT more than you think. Number Two, all of us are probably doing a little bit of...um..pudding balloon stuffing. All of us want to be the first, be the best, be admired, get noticed, feel special. All of us have vastly different, and sometimes destructive methods, but we all are filling our balloons with SOME level of pudding and stuffing them somewhere in our lives....and maybe that's okay. Maybe it's a "fake it til you make it" type of deal. Maybe it's that we are just displaying something decorative on the outside that we KNOW is on the inside and will eventually find its way out into reality. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">Just watch out on the soccer field. Don't let anyone pop that balloon. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIR_pb53lEpwnGp57x37YsTViVkQLfxcq7Qehf5_KTZiUGlASNwL7XFrz8nZSDAf9rbbUHFPpkIzJSiyOLf0NAygDyfYrm7hAKlMCsXQo2j9dot1cMfJTj-1vpDZ-otjKwG7B0Hi35g2g/s1600/20160905_140913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIR_pb53lEpwnGp57x37YsTViVkQLfxcq7Qehf5_KTZiUGlASNwL7XFrz8nZSDAf9rbbUHFPpkIzJSiyOLf0NAygDyfYrm7hAKlMCsXQo2j9dot1cMfJTj-1vpDZ-otjKwG7B0Hi35g2g/s640/20160905_140913.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-75965015832937548232017-10-05T06:25:00.001-07:002017-10-05T06:25:27.930-07:00Spoooky TalesWhen I was younger, I was madly, obsessively in love with a boy named Tyrel who lived in a large two-story old Civil War mansion. This place was just mind-blowing. It was right next to a Civil War graveyard, and if you go to Newtonia, Missouri, you can still find many physical relics of one of the larger battles that was fought there. To this day, there is still a reenactment group that gets together all Civil War style (my kind of freaking people!) and occasionally you can get tours inside the house. Okay....ah, thanks, the internet. HERE is the house!<br />
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<a href="http://www.geocities.ws/civil_war_anderson/NewtoniaRitcheyMansion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="300" src="https://www.geocities.ws/civil_war_anderson/NewtoniaRitcheyMansion.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">And Tyrel...well....he actually looked extraordinarily like Milo Ventimiglia. Holy Goodness. I know. I KNOW!! Just make his hair curlier. Man, I need someone to back me up here...... I wish any of the kids that I went to high school with read blog. </span><br />
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<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BMjAxODcyNzU2MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNzA0ODMxOQ@@._V1_UX214_CR0,0,214,317_AL_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="317" data-original-width="214" height="400" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BMjAxODcyNzU2MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNzA0ODMxOQ@@._V1_UX214_CR0,0,214,317_AL_.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18px;">Anyhow, back to the mansion. Ty was not one to tell wild stories. He had serious dark eyes and a stoicism about him. However, he solemnly told me about many various ghost stories that occurred while his family lived there. Here's what I found on the internet:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 18px;"><br />"This home is rumored to be full of paranormal activities by several ghosts. It has been said that there is a piano that plays on it own along with door that open and close, lights that flicker and turn on and off. There have been various sightings of ghosts over the years in the houses as well as in the small ran down cemetery located on the property. It is a two-story, antebellum mansion, constructed by slaves over a period of years in the late 1840’s and believed to be the oldest structure in Newton County. There are two cemeteries west of the house. One features the ornate headstones of the Ritchey family. The other has plain, uncut stones that mark the spot slaves have been buried. The mansion house served as a hospital for both sides during the Civil War. The mansion has what is called “the black room.” It is said they painted the floor black because of the blood stains on the floor."</span></h5>
-https://hauntsofmissouri.wordpress.com/2015/02/08/private-residence-newtonia/<br />
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<span style="font-size: 18px;">And I'm telling you, it seems to match his stories. He said he had heard soft, old music playing faintly in other rooms where there were no speakers, figurines being moved to certain spots on shelves, no matter how many times they were moved back, and definite, odd things that happened in the "Black Room". His mom kept thinking that her kids were causing problems and playing tricks, running up and down the stairs lightly during the night, and then she still heard the pattering on the stairs the night she locked them in their room. Huh.<br /><br />I have loved Halloween my whole life. I think that when I first watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas" where there was a whole entire HalloweenTown, I thought I had died and gone to.....well....that town. ;) I don't necessarily enjoy slasher movies, or terrifying and disturbing things. I guess I enjoy a little bit of mysticism. I love the unexplained. I don't want it explained. I don't want a scientist to come in and tell me how it all worked. I want to wonder...it feels akin to dreaming and hoping. My dreams and hopes are..um..definitely not reality. I can't even begin to tell you how I entertained lofty teenage fantasies of marrying the Tyrel from this story, and both of us becoming music stars and making buttloads of money all grown from our love (yup, he played guitar, and he was actually good....also a deep, lovely singing voice!). That reality didn't occur, and my life went in a different direction, but the "what if" was still tantalizing.<br /><br />What if??.....<br /><br />And, to add to the mystery, the beautiful Red Riding Hood pieces here will be on our website today. <a data-cke-saved-href="http://www.damselcorsets.com" href="http://www.damselcorsets.com/" target="_blank">http://www.damselcorsets.com</a> We will not be having an Hourglass Event, because I'm sort of just being sure to tantalize your brains with images and imagined stories for your life every day for our 13 Days of Halloween. Thanks to all of you stunning people, and please, keep the imagination alive! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz4vnJcNRbsatRUbwLdEyp3zJzBKM1avpfjzSps7uWgwMyGnmB4waxixGWMS7Wg6IIcDyN5fDL2dmsDlrEUMVYBkPaZhrrnZsc328wIone4tUb2zjTve-mpPjMLmIapsm17GNO9lIxrY/s1600/RedRidingHood1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz4vnJcNRbsatRUbwLdEyp3zJzBKM1avpfjzSps7uWgwMyGnmB4waxixGWMS7Wg6IIcDyN5fDL2dmsDlrEUMVYBkPaZhrrnZsc328wIone4tUb2zjTve-mpPjMLmIapsm17GNO9lIxrY/s640/RedRidingHood1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTPC1yojSjgwyaUlb3F3ZiJ7zTi0UYi29T7-JuSMfsrLUx1svsoDFI9DGgPlf7YLc7lO9eO4rmn0J0dNvYmPGXCym1bjU3j194xRloiRmYeiP2I1uwdvMyCfpSo8uSh6ddoAZtdgH-5w/s1600/redridinghood2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTPC1yojSjgwyaUlb3F3ZiJ7zTi0UYi29T7-JuSMfsrLUx1svsoDFI9DGgPlf7YLc7lO9eO4rmn0J0dNvYmPGXCym1bjU3j194xRloiRmYeiP2I1uwdvMyCfpSo8uSh6ddoAZtdgH-5w/s640/redridinghood2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-48112828928807610392017-09-21T05:34:00.001-07:002017-09-21T05:34:17.016-07:00Don't Drop the Tin of Cookies! <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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Don't Drop the Tin of Cookies!</div>
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I was in a cheery, 90's
Christmas-themed Elementary School play when I was in 3<sup>rd</sup>
grade. I remember this whole incident very well, because I think it's
partly where my squirmy and uncomfortable fear of adults came from.
My teacher had announced that we were doing this big play for all of
our parents for the yuletide season, and there would be try-outs the
next day. They handed us sheets of dialogue, and urged us to
practice.
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You wouldn't have recognized me as a
kid. I was extremely shy, quiet, and reserved. You know, I can never
tell if the “real” me turned into a different adult me....or if
the adult me IS the “real” me and the kid was the fake. Either
way, I had this ardent yearning to be the lead in the school
play....and maybe that desire came from that same mystical place
where my more fiery adult personality originated. I literally FELT it
in all of the particles of matter in my body that I would be in that
play, and I would be the star.
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I wanted to be a star. I wanted to be
noticed. I wanted to be admired and praised after delivering a
stirring performance up on stage that brought the audience to tears
and made them wonder at their own existence. When it came time to
audition, I gathered all of my faculties and made the slow walk up to
the front of the cafeteria, where the hopefuls and the judges
awaited. I remember all of those heart-pounding, powerful emotions
that come with a tryout. The unknown is oddly seductive. There is
still the appealing zest of “what if?”
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqRGGLd9zl6fNBXv8mS4-phb7D-6I09pXub6z-vw-Ekoz2a4Cwf3cg2kt9Xhh1ff3MArk9PyAcwifhvxXnb45iRCxVia29pfTPJJkjhQoZ0p8m99PzJQem8aHnmrIPyQnbJR092Z4qqcc/s1600/DSCN0494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqRGGLd9zl6fNBXv8mS4-phb7D-6I09pXub6z-vw-Ekoz2a4Cwf3cg2kt9Xhh1ff3MArk9PyAcwifhvxXnb45iRCxVia29pfTPJJkjhQoZ0p8m99PzJQem8aHnmrIPyQnbJR092Z4qqcc/s640/DSCN0494.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's nice to be noticed and admired. This is me, Leif when he was a baby, and my youngest sister.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah, I didn't get it. They gave it to
the popular girl. How in the junk are there “popular” kids in 3<sup>rd</sup>
grade? What did Stacey have that I didn't have?? And really...I
mean... Stacey? I guess I really DID grow up in the epitome of the
90s. <b>Sigh</b>. Well, if those crusty-toot-shingles couldn't see
the brilliance that I was, they didn't deserve my talent! However, I
didn't deserve the part of “lady in store #2” either.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My part was simple. I had one line.
Heh. “You had ONE job.”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the story, there is a store owner
who started out grumpy and annoyed with Christmas, and by the end, he
has learned the true meaning of the holiday, and he started giving
away the tins of cookies in his shop. Piled high, on a rectangular
folding table, were many tins that normally house those wretched
little dry, crumbling butter cookies in all shapes and sizes. I'm
sure that people had brought a few of the empty popcorn tins as
well...you know, the kind that had 3 different kinds of popcorn, and
the cheddar always got eaten first, and then the caramel was too rich
and slowly died a horrible sticky death after the tin got put into
some closet and then you found it next Christmas.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRZo6jMR-sgqZPlyj7UWXbGHhbuKa7hOx8VwGFv9Iv_bC38kY5fjQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="252" height="253" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRZo6jMR-sgqZPlyj7UWXbGHhbuKa7hOx8VwGFv9Iv_bC38kY5fjQ" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Anyhoo, as Shop Lady #2, I got the
blessed role of being gifted the tin and exclaiming, “OH, thank
you, Sir! Thank you very much!” I had a terrifying teacher who was
endeavoring to run this production with an iron fist, and she got
down to my level, looked me straight in the eye, and uttered,
“Michelle, these tins are right underneath the microphone. Look up.
You see it there? If you drop this tin, the sound will echo through
the whole gymnasium, and hurt all of the ears of the audience.
Whatever you do, DO NOT DROP THIS TIN!”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Yeah, I dropped the tin. There I was,
sweating up under the lights, and I felt that I could at least
deliver the most heartfelt line possible. It was definitely a
slow-motion moment as the kid/store owner was handing me the tin. I
was thanking him jubilantly, and my little fingers just slipped. I
froze, hearing the clanging echoing sound of the tin as it dropped
and then bounced a couple of times, to finally roll in a traitorous
line off the stage.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And you know what? I honestly don't
remember anything that happened after that. Maybe I ran off the stage
crying. Maybe I turned and told the scary teacher to be more careful
about whom she curses. I don't remember.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I didn't get the part. I ruined the
part that I DID play. I dropped the tin.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As an adult, this is laughable and
charming to remember. We all had those paralyzing, embarassing
moments. All of us, even Stacey perhaps, have “not gotten the
part.” Then again, we don't know how that loss might have possibly
shaped the “parts” we got in the future. I mean, holy
night...what if the braver, more self-assured adult tME came from
that experience. That part of the that wanted to be admired never
went away. :/</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And honestly, I'm hoping that my current “dropping of the tin” feelings make me able to become more of who I know I am in the future. A star. A....Stacey, even. </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6u_D4UQVdFTpE0bjFpJ9dZdiY-uQl09sVPb8JBgSEV69QBce8orc7xG8cH84s616OIJg9TK8kwEeAectXeq2htOvYkT_SzsefO3P3oOw6SbsG1FjMr-M297bZ1qi9Rp7XTOQdHWiL8Y/s1600/IMG_0167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6u_D4UQVdFTpE0bjFpJ9dZdiY-uQl09sVPb8JBgSEV69QBce8orc7xG8cH84s616OIJg9TK8kwEeAectXeq2htOvYkT_SzsefO3P3oOw6SbsG1FjMr-M297bZ1qi9Rp7XTOQdHWiL8Y/s640/IMG_0167.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Leif, my little toddler. He is a star. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-63429045224246074872017-09-15T13:34:00.003-07:002017-09-15T13:34:45.700-07:00Perfection<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLzLvwKTYPaCpdbfSOUI1v_qC_LEGJKVjV4PR2NrZBOZh-SwKEeXEk7UcDRBRj0A9pEiKNamDgfoMbXkMlRSkiC6kpmL058JhI9O7VWgtV1UfGT3Pv-L3IVBpvfbs8_oxuOV2ubygZ3c/s1600/IMG_9817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLzLvwKTYPaCpdbfSOUI1v_qC_LEGJKVjV4PR2NrZBOZh-SwKEeXEk7UcDRBRj0A9pEiKNamDgfoMbXkMlRSkiC6kpmL058JhI9O7VWgtV1UfGT3Pv-L3IVBpvfbs8_oxuOV2ubygZ3c/s640/IMG_9817.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are from last fall, but I thought they would be a beautiful reminder of how awesome this season is that we are entering into! Also, the kids in the wagon (my son Leif, and then Becca's little girls, Violet and Eve) have the hugest personalities I've ever seen....and they still get along...perfectly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">A revelation came to me the other day. My sister and I
were talking about what the subject was in their Sunday School class,
and apparently it was running along the lines of “things that will
be great in the life after this.” (FYI, I do believe in an
afterlife...however, I can't think about it too hard, or else my
brain will explode. Suffice it to say, I've decided that maybe I
could be this really hip, cool Angel that sews all of the white robes
for us heavenly messengers, but I would make them all edgy, and put
boning and hidden corsets in them, and then everyone would all be
sexy and such. Hallelujah, right?) Anyhow, in the class discussion,
one of the ladies raised her hand and said that she SO looked forward
to an existence where all of our relationships are perfect and all of
our communication is perfect. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">My sister was smiling and nodding, but then suddenly she
actually tried to THINK about what that magical dreamland would
entail (she has the same overactive type of brain that I do!). She
was straining, endeavoring to image out this Utopia of “perfect”
relationships, and she realized she didn't even know what that looks
or sounds like. For instance, she said that maybe a perfect
relationship might be one where she and her husband never argued, but
then she realized that those arguments had brought them closer
together and strengthened their communication! Wait...so...is that
perfect?</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">It got my brain rolling. What the heck is a perfect
relationship? I instantly thought of how I'm always bursting out
these fantastic, stupendous,
can't-even-believe-no-one-has-thought-of-this IDEAS for businesses,
and when I tell them to my husband, he takes his logical, planning
brain and starts pointing out pitfalls, drawbacks, and the general
booby-trappery of all of my dreams! Maybe a “perfect”
relationship would be one where he hears my ideas and gives me a
high-five and then we ride off in a Unicorn Rental LLC business into
the sunset. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">No, actually. No. </span>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gvlL2PH74f4WA3j-EzXRlh394fqLSPJor8XGIo0SwbcYG1kDrJ2hYXOjzoq1v_8ZXLu-N5NgB0gsdm8fNdoPXrsQLd4Hk-x5txQ_BP5XuLZAJrkNc5g9pC9cKV-1rUzFhpQgfW-Kz6I/s1600/IMG_9839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8gvlL2PH74f4WA3j-EzXRlh394fqLSPJor8XGIo0SwbcYG1kDrJ2hYXOjzoq1v_8ZXLu-N5NgB0gsdm8fNdoPXrsQLd4Hk-x5txQ_BP5XuLZAJrkNc5g9pC9cKV-1rUzFhpQgfW-Kz6I/s640/IMG_9839.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">A perfect relationship, in my brain, is exactly what
happens. I feel annoyed and frustrated by his doubts, and I accuse
him of wanting to rain on my Personal Parade Inc. Because of his
questions and dubiousness, I get all charged up, with my heart
pounding, and my brain whirling, and I come up with solutions for his
fears, insights for his misunderstandings, and an even BETTER
business plan for the “bottled herbal tea that has all those herbs
that are supposed to make your chest bigger” dream! </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Is “perfection” what we have already? Do we have to
adjust the lenses? If we don't have “perfection”, do we actually
WANT IT? Holy crap. Do I really want perfection? </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Now, my brain is doing that overthinking my afterlife
angel-seamstress existence again. Oh, great. Just perfect! </span>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVO3qi75cMf1m5R3sJ7RUfWFISJaAmG-g5rmJgEmQIFNOs_1CjmfOzzdwDmQ_U3h47h2F0C1GPq5qeMWxBOkjve3CX70PU4wYyr90URHq4g7QKSmmk9MOPsrjsCV-jdQ9iQg8izFfcliI/s1600/IMG_9785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVO3qi75cMf1m5R3sJ7RUfWFISJaAmG-g5rmJgEmQIFNOs_1CjmfOzzdwDmQ_U3h47h2F0C1GPq5qeMWxBOkjve3CX70PU4wYyr90URHq4g7QKSmmk9MOPsrjsCV-jdQ9iQg8izFfcliI/s640/IMG_9785.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-48322919361507412372017-02-14T07:13:00.001-08:002017-02-14T07:13:43.464-08:00I artery gave you MY heart, so here's something in the same vein<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6rBsezB5i1rC4mQV_DR2QZDs2wF3nK_cZ3-hk3o6Cn4cyc62eDOERjcqamK1VIIRkp8avd7qavc7Y17EiDD-lG9FHXmh09jcwsNwBPAyOP-WRjtik8wlzhlann7FkPDelqkqolRb_kE/s1600/Valentine%2527s+Heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6rBsezB5i1rC4mQV_DR2QZDs2wF3nK_cZ3-hk3o6Cn4cyc62eDOERjcqamK1VIIRkp8avd7qavc7Y17EiDD-lG9FHXmh09jcwsNwBPAyOP-WRjtik8wlzhlann7FkPDelqkqolRb_kE/s320/Valentine%2527s+Heart.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Here you go to all of you friends who want something a little bit more quirky for Valentine's Day cards to pass out. Download it, print it, cut 'em out, and pass 'em out! :)Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-74687005848554778572017-01-27T06:29:00.000-08:002017-01-27T06:29:42.326-08:00Customer Look Book CONTEST<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Y3M85ypNUkLxNY2fzpuYBNcExqBecjo7Xc677Y5-4tb-elao-WVWc-rUCr4mRUveHn1pWttHxHBG_KhF7KdtcbMVLAbJXLnsc2nNlOWlptKlyp-ml6fRg72az_sjLWkrtjYP1jVuyQ/s1600/i67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj27Y3M85ypNUkLxNY2fzpuYBNcExqBecjo7Xc677Y5-4tb-elao-WVWc-rUCr4mRUveHn1pWttHxHBG_KhF7KdtcbMVLAbJXLnsc2nNlOWlptKlyp-ml6fRg72az_sjLWkrtjYP1jVuyQ/s640/i67.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
It is TIME AGAIN for our next installment of our CUSTOMER Look Books! These ones are my favorites, as they provide a broad, imaginative spectrum of what can be done with our corsets! What do I do with these look books? Well, I pay several thousand bucks to get them printed up on sturdy, quality paper, my husband spends hours on layout, cropping, and texts for the images,and we um.....*cough* just give them away for free.<br />
<br />
A bit of back-story here. When we made our first lookbooks for the company, I charged for them. Yeah, they take an enormous amount of money and work. I figured that if I put other goodies in there, such as ads for businesses where I get my hats and accessories (the ads were always free, because I still suck at asking people for money.), funny little articles, and even some helpful things, then it would be totally fair to charge several bucks and break even. The first batch sold....okay. Well. Actually, it didn't. If I would have sold all of the 5000 that I got printed up, things would have been going great. As it was, I sold more like 300. I got a little bitter. Not at my customers! Just at myself. I felt like all of my business ideas were complete trash and that I should just give up and go back to being a waitress at Ruby Tuesday (man, eating croutons from the salad bar for lunch and dinner when I worked double shifts! That was the life!).<br />
<br />
I just decided that I would give the rest away for free and count it as a loss. Oh, well. Another idea that failed. And you know, amazing things started happening after that. People would come into my booth, get to touch and feel the products, fall in love with them, but not be able to purchase. However, I still got to give them something from our company to help show love and appreciation for their support, and they were always grateful and impressed. There is no way to possibly quantify how many actual "sales" have come from giving away the booklets for free, but I always have warm fuzzies when I can just be generous and let go of the outcome.<br />
<br />
I have told this to every festival that I've applied for this year (I still can't imagine how you could read my application and still reject our booth!) and I'll say it again. My MAIN GOAL for my booth at festivals is to create vivid memories and experiences for people. Renaissance and Pirate festivals are the only reason I have a job, and if I'm "salespersony" to the people attending, it can turn their magical day around real fast. I take some deep breaths and just tell myself- "Michelle, your goal today is to help as many women as you can feel heard, valued, understood, and maybe...just maybe even beautiful. Money will take care of itself. It always does. Even if you don't make back the money on your booth space, hotels, and gas, you can know that you helped other people and encouraged them to fly. That is what is important. Do the thing!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IOM5KTxo1OBPfS8Va6BmiU_kxOoP1-V88Gdm1zMYLYX1r5vfOjHb-A1wvcw4b6FeS0s-vrKs1NQc78YRhyiLlZEInW-2uR2lVdPMBCdum5fTef-RZMcw_ji9x05zUWCxr692WUiwY9c/s1600/i77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IOM5KTxo1OBPfS8Va6BmiU_kxOoP1-V88Gdm1zMYLYX1r5vfOjHb-A1wvcw4b6FeS0s-vrKs1NQc78YRhyiLlZEInW-2uR2lVdPMBCdum5fTef-RZMcw_ji9x05zUWCxr692WUiwY9c/s640/i77.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um.....Yia. I hope it's okay that I used this photo....and though I love this one, I cannot BELIEVE how good you have gotten in the past year. Holy freaking freak. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And here we are. I've made several batches of booklets since our first one, which was made about 7 years ago. I've learned a lot along the way, and by golly, I learn from mistakes! They are a great teacher, giving the "test" first and the "lesson" afterward.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TiBfaWyliLZPN-oawxeIhGKa8IPkfaRQZ8XW68U6w7RNqlgIZJq9dK7opADerXXJLPCWaWbmo2zI7DmXGAMpBR_eKPt_VrWTQ-oLzjkvwu7XhL9y0S9hw-Q8qh8imlNTGFXgPlGjJvc/s1600/i32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TiBfaWyliLZPN-oawxeIhGKa8IPkfaRQZ8XW68U6w7RNqlgIZJq9dK7opADerXXJLPCWaWbmo2zI7DmXGAMpBR_eKPt_VrWTQ-oLzjkvwu7XhL9y0S9hw-Q8qh8imlNTGFXgPlGjJvc/s640/i32.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
Onto the rules. I will stop being nostalgic.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>RULES for Customer Look Book 2017:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">1.All entry photos must be submitted by February 10th, 2017. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Photos NEED to be the biggest format you can send me. I would love selfies from your phone, but they most likely won't work. We need high resolution so that the photo won't end up blurry in the magazine. In our last lookbooks, there were a few photos that we didn't take just because they image size was so small. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><span style="color: #674ea7;">-Please send photos to seamstress@damseldress.com</span></u></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. If you are giving props to a photographer, it would SURE be nice if their watermark for their company was already on the photo. We can put websites and photographer names, but it just looks much cooler if your company stuff is all right there. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. If you are chosen, you need to get the model release form back to me ASAP! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">5. While I think it's fantastic to take pictures of yourself that make you look like the seductress you are, it's good to remember that I give these out to all ages. If there is a sweet 10 year old girl that loves costumes, she will get a booklet at a festival. If there is sweet 10 year old boy that loves costumes, he gets one! ;) Just keep it family friendly and tasteful. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">6. Sorry, but the CORSET in the image must be one of ours. I'm not as picky about the accessory pieces, skirts, pants....whatever. The corset does need to be a Damsel corset. This is a book for our company, so yeah. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>PRIZES!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">-Front & Back Cover Prize: $500 store credit to our website. Heck yes!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">-Inside pages prizes: $75 store credit to each of you! If you get picked, you get the sweet freebies. </span>Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-35132852763387353312016-11-09T04:34:00.001-08:002016-11-09T05:34:32.087-08:00Official GRAB BAG Rules for 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRF8STg2UFz0A_L6kZTj7G_meXuLqvgqVAFpyd_YH8V_eR9cpKT7SP5HV9hY7A39CUcVJ01rLmeGWvwBNkk_OBcE9QWSfjlWu-yxA4zZRGYQ-R8lWXm-M2Eg6EZlXsMfMmHV2tUPRJsM/s1600/GrabBag2015Deets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRF8STg2UFz0A_L6kZTj7G_meXuLqvgqVAFpyd_YH8V_eR9cpKT7SP5HV9hY7A39CUcVJ01rLmeGWvwBNkk_OBcE9QWSfjlWu-yxA4zZRGYQ-R8lWXm-M2Eg6EZlXsMfMmHV2tUPRJsM/s640/GrabBag2015Deets.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's the event we have all waited a year for! The momentous event where a professional corsetier (like me) goes through the available stock, hand-picks and coordinates an outfit for you, and packs it all neatly with a bunch of goodies so that you can revel in the glory thereof. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's the basics. We lovingly sew and craft high quality corsets, skirts, blouses, and accessories, and at the end of the year, we need to "clean house" of pieces that fall under certain parameters. To qualify, a piece must *Be a limited edition or one of a kind *be made out of discontinued fabric *sewn in a discontinued pattern *possibly be slightly flawed or "as-is" *a size that hasn't sold at my booth, and so we only have one or two left. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because it takes hours and hours to photograph, list, and inventory these "orphan" pieces, we cut out the whole middle part and just put them into boxes which you can purchase on Black Friday (and Saturday) and you get in on handmade items at 30-90% (no joke) OFF of their normal price!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You don't see pictures of the items, and don't know what colors or certain designs you're getting, BUT you DO KNOW the SIZE and whether or not the corset will be OVERBUST or UNDERBUST. Here are the details and prices for this year. Please note that the Shipping and Handling is $15 for Levels 1 and 2 and $25 for Levels 3 and 4. I literally have 8 people packaging and sorting for this event for 3 solid weeks, full time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">***And One Last Thing***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I want you to know that we try to be more generous whenever possible. These parameters are what you can expect, but I am hoping that most of the boxes will either have bonus items, extra free awesomeness, or unexpected gleeful things. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HdeLdPOj2G6qmexIAwOCAftZeFE2izB9nTzpuZxXmvlh1d_WMdNVVnPCRKFwXQf92XfFFTaaLSuZZiiflr39xte4rfnOxEqooxByXzJgIFJvDDndJfLR2g_FkZeKLUx3ojORozmx1rw/s1600/LEVEL1underbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5HdeLdPOj2G6qmexIAwOCAftZeFE2izB9nTzpuZxXmvlh1d_WMdNVVnPCRKFwXQf92XfFFTaaLSuZZiiflr39xte4rfnOxEqooxByXzJgIFJvDDndJfLR2g_FkZeKLUx3ojORozmx1rw/s320/LEVEL1underbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 1 Underbust Grab Bag: $50</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one underbust corset in the size stated in the title. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMK5Y8N8lnXnTplB-gGcHIXipI19mnIsoIMt9k8x4hflffPNAKPsqKcNW1-_ReYhzshkmYNWDUMXPhrEKkTOTaIPVNHFOLst8_noC3lgkOXg3JhR3pk8TRwIweajuNEmbm4q2jo4D9rY/s1600/LEVEL1overbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMK5Y8N8lnXnTplB-gGcHIXipI19mnIsoIMt9k8x4hflffPNAKPsqKcNW1-_ReYhzshkmYNWDUMXPhrEKkTOTaIPVNHFOLst8_noC3lgkOXg3JhR3pk8TRwIweajuNEmbm4q2jo4D9rY/s320/LEVEL1overbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 1 Overbust Grab Bag: $75</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one overbust Corset in the size stated in the title. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdLLwt1jIRgyWgu6QRMuLanTy6A5fn9bHoCuTLiiI-37DHPQ6D9ySBItaWfV60bTnStB7T-ESuP6hJzGSenvyA2y3onaCsvGxgZC3ZG-4IByPzbque36m6Q05cDDilvNrrGSzmyRhh7M/s1600/LEVEL2underbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdLLwt1jIRgyWgu6QRMuLanTy6A5fn9bHoCuTLiiI-37DHPQ6D9ySBItaWfV60bTnStB7T-ESuP6hJzGSenvyA2y3onaCsvGxgZC3ZG-4IByPzbque36m6Q05cDDilvNrrGSzmyRhh7M/s320/LEVEL2underbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 2 Underbust Grab Bag: $100</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one underbust corset in the size stated, plus one other item. Total of 2 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDsTUAdZzfBaxokMb2x2dIMuoiC1pxvtYIL73xlZ64WTUaJFsdby0BP_UuO2TuULzagxyR8HLrWxw5xN5Jv7s6yyejSXVlbdJW9CR7ZPtbfi-4DPjazaNkJdkFimuOeQ0mpNf6EhjeC4/s1600/LEVEL2overbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDsTUAdZzfBaxokMb2x2dIMuoiC1pxvtYIL73xlZ64WTUaJFsdby0BP_UuO2TuULzagxyR8HLrWxw5xN5Jv7s6yyejSXVlbdJW9CR7ZPtbfi-4DPjazaNkJdkFimuOeQ0mpNf6EhjeC4/s320/LEVEL2overbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 2 Overbust Grab Bag: $125</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one overbust corset in size stated, plus one other item. Total of 2 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6A7guAKA7Z_o3_gI63csn1ZUZ6stvx8-7Jj5e5SwF5tjFTn4rMdjMp3jTVmTRTJuuJmED6FrsjpMeBmE7_YEyC-dmgyvAoS1XsrxivAGMmEqWUI7b35uBIkGX5yKhF36A4H8bhpl_xI/s1600/LEVEL3underbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6A7guAKA7Z_o3_gI63csn1ZUZ6stvx8-7Jj5e5SwF5tjFTn4rMdjMp3jTVmTRTJuuJmED6FrsjpMeBmE7_YEyC-dmgyvAoS1XsrxivAGMmEqWUI7b35uBIkGX5yKhF36A4H8bhpl_xI/s320/LEVEL3underbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 3 Underbust Grab Bag: $150</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one underbust corset in size stated, plus 2 other items, for a total of 3 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X7MsV_If3WMoiDLrnyxmMpikehU0NzAJhtlJLuw2J0BUdisvvh14teZKKk4gowCIB5xVL06yrfsJX9XHBHgUb3zkQG_dRSHOgrpxTV2K8tn42KxKyLHqxfcyVLbOSl5_8gE4iHiJeck/s1600/LEVEL3overbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X7MsV_If3WMoiDLrnyxmMpikehU0NzAJhtlJLuw2J0BUdisvvh14teZKKk4gowCIB5xVL06yrfsJX9XHBHgUb3zkQG_dRSHOgrpxTV2K8tn42KxKyLHqxfcyVLbOSl5_8gE4iHiJeck/s320/LEVEL3overbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 3 Overbust Grab Bag: $200</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one overbust corset in size stated, plus 2 other items, for a total of 3 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctQRhyIxX-Y4kjYXOaRVkO45xnCIBpc_gh0ZV8KgqQkJLNKRaRFRK9VjwisiS8ZUYiM_SsWpPt1T2tYyLXwjqjIXE-YYgZ3eRaU3C55hctCUEbfUWBUm5H7kt0Pu9ySTpOg8WQDXTGnM/s1600/LEVEL4underbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctQRhyIxX-Y4kjYXOaRVkO45xnCIBpc_gh0ZV8KgqQkJLNKRaRFRK9VjwisiS8ZUYiM_SsWpPt1T2tYyLXwjqjIXE-YYgZ3eRaU3C55hctCUEbfUWBUm5H7kt0Pu9ySTpOg8WQDXTGnM/s320/LEVEL4underbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 4 Underbust Grab Bag: $250</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one of our Premium corsets with coat tails OR a huge peplum ruffle. 3 extra items are included, for a total of 4 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KaVJ_lrwrn1RDuqSeBlhHEXheQH2g_vw9g3C8h5pNMqZkkeefbV8zv3426OBVn3Y_WZEIHe-ZHJD2i65Ub7NKTAvF8iIgmqoJE4VgdXs9MKCtFqWvvLIak4E40uBAjiRHXXzausQ_lQ/s1600/LEVEL4overbustlogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KaVJ_lrwrn1RDuqSeBlhHEXheQH2g_vw9g3C8h5pNMqZkkeefbV8zv3426OBVn3Y_WZEIHe-ZHJD2i65Ub7NKTAvF8iIgmqoJE4VgdXs9MKCtFqWvvLIak4E40uBAjiRHXXzausQ_lQ/s320/LEVEL4overbustlogo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Level 4 Overbust Grab Bag: $300</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Includes one of our overbust pirate coats OR peplum pieces OR cropped tailed overbust pieces plus matching under corset (for a complete overbust look and structure). 3 extra items included, for a total of 4 items. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sy4NB3GG_faIu0zYsam1NGSe3yLWkw_00H4UIcrI-3-Tsuk780sySUHoMLV8tzJgkf904QyUWIJ4mxjW-oMh5Uzc9mRBVmfBosWn_tRBX8ISgDEFf_0wYLNvC3tmaC1vmjQCXwr6yiQ/s1600/included.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3sy4NB3GG_faIu0zYsam1NGSe3yLWkw_00H4UIcrI-3-Tsuk780sySUHoMLV8tzJgkf904QyUWIJ4mxjW-oMh5Uzc9mRBVmfBosWn_tRBX8ISgDEFf_0wYLNvC3tmaC1vmjQCXwr6yiQ/s640/included.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-80155943767067121982016-10-12T06:21:00.001-07:002016-10-12T06:21:21.016-07:00If I could just look like someone else....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380386075i/745300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380386075i/745300.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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When I was a teenager, my mom pulled out this old VHS tape for us to watch. On it was "Return of the Native" which is an absolutely heart-wrenching movie with a very young Catherine Zeta-Jones (pictured in all her glory above). This film made us both bawl our eyes out as we agonized over what decision her character was going to make. If you want to feel real-style depressed, I would heartily recommend it. </div>
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Anyhow, during one of the scenes, in which this actor looked particularly striking, my mom said something like, "I wish I looked exactly like that!". We actually discussed it afterward, over our balls of bunched up kleenex with our bloodshot, red-rimmed, puffy, estrogen-y eyes. I asked my mom, "Really, if you could change your face for her face and your body for her body and have EXACTLY that same thing, would you?" It was a strange question. I think we all look at others and compare ourselves (human nature) but I wonder if we actually would go through with swapping out all of the features? It is a compelling line of thought, if nothing else. In the end, my mom decided that she just wanted to stick with what she knew. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKnpDspYIP38fhaiYVctJdS1JhpmBSFKe8JihiihfXrsjUUP-M8wYy1b8KnWihC_KT5YbRjPsYuPOi1UyqKd57y-W-Mn9cibER_H1qmGPG0ueUIZCjOULWDq4vUs0fpMEBffGAmEhNck/s1600/IMG_8752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKnpDspYIP38fhaiYVctJdS1JhpmBSFKe8JihiihfXrsjUUP-M8wYy1b8KnWihC_KT5YbRjPsYuPOi1UyqKd57y-W-Mn9cibER_H1qmGPG0ueUIZCjOULWDq4vUs0fpMEBffGAmEhNck/s640/IMG_8752.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Leif, earlier this year. </td></tr>
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The reason this came up in my brain is because we were discussing this at work yesterday, while sewing. My sister said that there is a company that she really likes (I don't particularly want to say names here, but if I say that it's a popular plus-size company, you'll probably figure it out...so., it's Torrid.) that is doing a contest for their customers to pick their next model. They had 4 gals and they were letting their customers vote. Now, obviously, this is a touchy subject, because this stuff seems to always hit a nerve on the internet. It's like our insecurities grow venom-dripping needle teeth and red glowing eyes and come out for the KILL! Anyhow, this seemed to be what was happening on the internet. My sister said that comments came from a lot of frustrated women who exclaimed that the models still must be wearing some kind of amazing shapewear, because "plus size" doesn't stay the exact same shape, only slightly bigger. The women commenting were wishing that <i>their </i>body types were represented.....without tons of touchups, without tons of post-production to make them look unlike the original reality. (This is funny to me, because I took a brief look at the campaign and felt like the company was doing a great job, and really liked all of the women. I couldn't possible vote for something like this, because I genuinely liked them all. I didn't feel offended, get pissed off, or want to wage war.)</div>
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Remember that question, up at the top? If you could actually trade, feature for feature, with someone else, would you? I think that what is going on here, in the underlying, deeply buried, hot lava center is that we actually might truly love ourselves. We're just burying the radiant self-love under layers of deflection. When I see a woman say, "I wish my body were represented in the media" she doesn't <i>need</i> to go on to say "Because all these women are fake and air-brushed and they suck and make me feel like less than I am." .....Nobody can make you feel like less than you are except yourself and your own thoughts. You are saying that you wish your body were represented because you love yourself. If you truly hated yourself and thought you were a piece of crap failure, then you wouldn't want yourself to be...uh.."represented", would you? </div>
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Do you know what the other awesome, underlying thing here is? People are looking at other's bodies and demanding that "their own shape" be represented more, BUT nobody can represent you, because nobody else is you! The coolest thing that I've learned from my company is that every single woman really is a unique snowflake in their body shape! I will try the same "size" of corset on women that look drastically different, body-composition-wise, and it just delights me. It is FUN for me. I just love to see all of the variety of women out there. What an astoundingly beautiful, colorful, diverse pallet we have in this world! And guess what, friends? No company can "represent your body shape" because that company would have to photograph every single woman of all time in their clothing, including you! Since we are all that different, no company is ever going to be able to get it right. No matter who they use for a model, that person is not you, and will never be you. ( I could go on to write a whole entire article about this very thing. It's crazy, because someone might "represent your shape" in a way that you deem worthy, but then your shape will change....because we all change, no matter what. Gasp!)</div>
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Now, I get it....I do. You don't want to see so much photoshop retouching because that makes you see a lie and compare your reality with a lie. I used to spend a lot of time being angry about this. Do you know how much that anger helped me? Um....not a whole lot. Anger doesn't magically beget happiness. Bitterness doesn't give birth to satisfaction. </div>
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Do you know who can help to show the world your body shape, without a ton of photo-editing? You. Yes. That's right. You might be yelling at all the wrong people. And do you know what is interesting? If you take pictures of yourself, dressed up, looking gorgeous, and proudly post them, you will most likely have something happen.....someone is probably going to see you, roll their eyes, and say, "Yeah, it's great that she looks that way, all pretty and nicely shaped, but why doesn't someone show MY body type!!??" If they want to be critical and point out your flaws, they will probably do that as well. You don't control their brain and their behavior (thank heavens) but you do control yours. And in this instance, you would be creating, and all they could do is destroy. (another blog post coming up on this subject.)</div>
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The man above is so beautiful that he burns my eyeballs, but he has a truly beautiful story. You can read more about it here, in an interview with him <a href="http://benaustinblog.com/interview-andy-hnilo-model-clay-sardines/" target="_blank">http://benaustinblog.com/interview-andy-hnilo-model-clay-sardines/</a> but, suffice it to say, he had a career in modeling and acting, and then got in a hit-and-run accident where TWO cars hit him, and his face was beaten up so badly that the doctor told him they were the worst facially injuries he had ever seen. And guess what...this picture is freaking AFTER his accident!! Andy is one of my heroes, and I listen to every interview with him that I can get my hands on, because I think he embodies what I am talking about here. He turned a "bad" situation around and made it into a company that helps people. (I'm a giddy fanatic of his products, especially since they involve rubbing strange kelp clay on your face and looking like a lagoon monster.) You, too, can take a situation that has previously been causing you pain and use it as a launch-pad for your own good future. Nobody else can be you.<br />
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I have been reading a lot about the idea that other people are "mirrors" of ourselves. (There is a fantastic article about it here, if you want to educate your marvelous brain more! <a href="http://www.thepowerofoneness.com/blog/what-we-see-in-others-is-a-reflection-of-ourselves/" target="_blank">http://www.thepowerofoneness.com/blog/what-we-see-in-others-is-a-reflection-of-ourselves/</a> ) and the most relieving thing that I have read lately is that when you see things you ADMIRE about other people, that is because there is a seed of the exact same thing in your own spirit. You literally would not be able to see that beautiful thing unless it was somewhere inside of you. This takes away the biting sting of comparison, and drops down the walls between us. When I think about things this way, it brings me peace and joy, because I noticed beauty and I was grateful for it, and then I went on to recognize that the beauty is in me as well. Nice.<br />
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So, would you want to look exactly like someone else? I'm guessing the answer is "No". Do you want certain qualities that someone else seems to have? I'm guessing the answer is "Yes". Did you notice those qualities because they mirror you, in some way? Yes, Awesome. Now, get to it. Go out there and love yourself and love others. Appreciate yourself and appreciate others! That beauty will outshine ANY other physical beauty that could ever exist.Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-18191031944682166472016-09-30T05:43:00.001-07:002016-09-30T05:43:55.250-07:00I'll Be Better When.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I haven't written in this blog in a LONG. DANG. TIME. I kept telling myself perfectly reasonable explanations. "I have a 9 week old baby" "I am so busy with Damsel in this Dress" etc. I also told myself some fairly UNreasonable explanations. "You don't know everything. Why the heck are you writing?" "Who the heck cares what you have to say?" AND my very favorite- "I'll do it when........"<br />
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Which is why I am here. I'm sick of "doing it when". It's been pretty freaking poisonous in my life. How many people say "We've been soooo busy" when you ask them how they are doing? It's an interesting thing. It's like "busy" is an emotion? Apparently "fine" and "good" are emotions as well? Maybe I should be asking the question in a more straightforward, less vague, manner. "Hi. What is getting you out of bed in the morning lately? What is your greatest fear? On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your current level of pride in yourself?" Fine. Good. Busy. I've been busy too. I've been busy avoiding why I was put here on earth. I've been busy avoiding possible and inevitable criticism. I've been busy living smaller so I wouldn't have to live as big as I know I can.<br />
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And mostly, I've been fine, good, and busy at telling myself that I will do *insert mind-blowing, passionate activity here* when I am *insert perfectionist, judgemental, impossible standard here*.<br />
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When I have customers come into my booth (did you guys ever know that you're like mini-therapy sessions for me every time I do a show? I am literally sent angels every time I work, and you all teach, inspire, and stun me!!) at renaissance festivals, I hear some version of "I'll do it when" almost every time. This is how it goes down. A woman comes in. I talk to her and get to know her (hopefully, it's not so busy that I can actually speak....oh, and also hopefully I don't have low blood sugar.). I find a corset for her and lovingly lace her in. She'll usually say something like, "Wow, I feel 5 inches taller!" and when I show her the mirror, I usually get an incredibly positive reaction on her part. Some women cry. Some women swear. Some women's eyes nearly pop out of their skulls. There is no way to adequately describe the intense feeling of <i><b>support</b></i> that you get from a good corset. Suddenly, everything is okay, including your body that you are usually yelling at and picking apart. </div>
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I would say that 80% of the time, the women feel the energy that I sewed into these corsets, they feel the love I have for them, and they feel the sweet, succulent joy of loving oneself. They purchase the corset, and their life gets better. I'm not freaking joking. Do you know how many success stories I have from women who come back a year later? I've seen massive weight loss, escape from abusive relationships, adequate weight gain, new relationships formed, new hobbies started, new businesses created, and new lives formed. I'm not so egotistical as to say that me and my corsets did it, but I am positive that we were a substantial stepping stone on a much better, higher, smoother path. And that's how you get better, right? Small steps, made every day, mixed in with a few massive leaps. </div>
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The other 20%? I didn't forget. They sound like my brain, a lot of the time. "I really like this corset, but I will get nice things for myself when I have lost the 30 pounds I've been promising myself I would lose". I tell them that I will gladly alter it for them. I tell them that I'm here for that journey with them. But, nope. "Yeah, I will just wait." Dangit!!! To me, it's not about losing a sale. I'm doing fine and I am blessed with what I need. I want THOSE WOMEN to at least take that feeling of pride and carry it through the rest of the day with them! I don't want it to do a 180 and suddenly turn into "Well, I was good, but now I am not."</div>
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Here's the problem, and this is something that's taken me a long time to start to realize. When we say that "We'll do it when we are better", it's a really good lie. It sounds like we're cheerleading ourselves onto greatness! It sounds like we're rewarding ourselves for good behavior. But...are we? I know everyone doesn't think like me, but I know how this goes in my brain. I tell myself that I will be nice to myself "when" and be happy "when" and then I punish myself every time I don't do something that is in alignment with that heartless, rule-crazy "when". </div>
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But, it's just so tempting to think about the "better you". Guys, "better me" is not going to have these same thoughts, feelings and habits! "Better me" is going to arrive at "better" and then never ever make any mistakes ever again forever. </div>
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Hmm....."Better me" will STILL always mean that I'm saying that I'm inadequate in my current state. When you pick up one end of the stick, you pick up the other. Now, don't worry, I DID realize that when you pick up the negative end of the stick first, there is still hope, because there is always hope......BUT it goes around in a crazy circle. "I am not good" still says "I'll be better when". The only solution I can figure is to throw the stick into a fire and declare "I AM GREAT". </div>
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So, how are you? No, really? Fine? Busy? Good? Isn't it funny how comfortable we all are with those rote, colorless adjectives. If you need some help, I've got some words for what you are. this is what YOU are right now. In this very moment. No "whens". </div>
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<li style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 7px 0px 0px; text-decoration: underline;"><a class="syn_of_syns" href="http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/astounding" style="color: #333333; outline: 0px; text-decoration: none;">astounding</a></li>
<li style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 7px 0px 0px;"><a class="syn_of_syns" href="http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/bewildering" style="color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">bewildering</a></li>
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<li style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 7px 0px 0px;"><a class="syn_of_syns" href="http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/stupefying" style="color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">stupefying</a></li>
<li style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 7px 0px 0px;"><a class="syn_of_syns" href="http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/stupendous" style="color: #333333; text-decoration: none;">stupendous</a></li>
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I made myself a post-it note that I stuck on my bathroom mirror. Do you know what it says? "I do everything right". It's the best thing I could have ever told myself. And you know what's crazy....after a while, it started feeling more and more true. Even when I made "mistakes" and "failed", I would just say, "Well, I do everything right, so that must have been the right thing to do so that I could improve, thrive, and be abundant!"</div>
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Lately, I've been taking it to the next level. "Everyone does everything right." Phew. Now that is intense. I mean, I just wrote a whole blog post on how women come into my booth and talk themselves out of being kind to themselves, and I did make it sound awfully...."wrong" for them to do so. BUT, in a "We are all wondrous, and we do everything right!" world, I can more clearly see these women with compassion. I can empathize, having been there many times myself, and I can be peaceful about them just living their lives, doing the best they can, and doing things right. I can realize that maybe all of those negative thoughts were small stepping stones too, and that we all grow and evolve in different ways. </div>
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Now, friends. Please don't think that I completely manage to emulate all of this every day. This is my own cognitive therapy. This is my daily practice. I'm hoping that by sharing it with you, you can feel better than "fine." I'm hoping that you can realize that this moment is the time for happiness. You actually can't feel happy when *insert future perfect thing here* happens, because if you feel happy....you feel happy. right. freaking. NOW! Isn't that funny? We actually can't cash in on future happiness and peace. It can't be felt before it is felt. Phew. That is mind blowing. I think my brain hurts now. Um....to wrap up, I drew you a cake. Enjoy. </div>
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<br />Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-7274672394423814962016-05-01T18:35:00.002-07:002016-05-01T18:35:41.141-07:00Halloween Every Day! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://midsummerscream.org/" target="_blank">http://midsummerscream.org/</a></td></tr>
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You know....life is just beautiful. At least, I feel that way when I see all of these festivals popping up that make me so happy I could cry (which happens a lot these days with the hormones being absolutely out of whack. I cried over an Animaniacs episode. ). It's like people are finally thinking, "Hey, everyone who is awesome loves Halloween, but it's a bummer that it's only one day a year. What if we made it MORE days a year???!!!" Yes, puh-lease. </div>
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I think I know what it is. I have seen this at Comic Cons very vividly, and I am honored when I experience it. It's human CONNECTION! Something about donning a costume releases a lot of the pressure we feel from every day life and interactions, especially when thousands of other people are in costume. When I am at conventions, I see adults <u style="font-style: italic;">playing. </u> They are taking pictures with each other, high-fiving, laughing, and loving. It's a beautiful thing, because I think so many of us think that we have to grow up, be responsible and never have fun again and only think about depressing chores and errands. Ugh. I am gleeful when I think about the opportunity to get all dressed up, NOT feel judged, and go and have fun and love things with other like-minded people. Sign. Me. Up. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://halloweeninsummerfestival.com/">http://halloweeninsummerfestival.com/</a></td></tr>
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I feel it my duty to inform you of awesome events that are going on, and even though I'll only have a booth at the Utah event this year, I am planning on signing up for the others next year, because if it's going to be a gathering of people who like macabre things, skeletons, candy, and dressing up, then I know that I have found my people.<br />
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So, back to the "playing" thing, I strongly feel that adults should recapture the joy of our imaginations and dreams. After all, when we want something in life, it's not the actual THING that we want, it's the FEELING that it gives us. A Damsel in this Dress corset is logically just some really nice cloth, boning, and grommets, but when you put it on, the feelings you get are extremely potent. Trust me, I know. I still, to this day, truly treasure my own corsets. People might think that I take them for granted, because I sew them all day every day, and I can always just make another, so they might not be special for me, but that is nowhere near the truth. The fact is, I have memories I created whilst wearing each one. I have sweet experiences, confidence, joy, pain, success, failure, and about a million other things woven right into each piece that I wear. When I pull them out and touch them, I'm reminded of all of this, and I love my life. Once again, not about the corset itself, but the feelings that nearly burst out of it when I wear it. When I think about my possessions, the ones that I cherish the most are actually my costume pieces!<br />
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Imagining yourself as someone else....maybe even just the best version of yourself with the things that you want, the relationships you desire, and the life you dream......you can almost take a "shortcut" and sit and marinade in those sweet feelings as they wash over you. You don't have to sit there and "face reality" like an adult and see all of the things you don't have and the qualities you are not. You can just feeeeeel the feelings that you want to feel, and I promise, all of the things you desire will be much closer when you start playing around in your imagination. I have used this method with much success, just sitting and feeling the joy of things that I want to happen, before they even occur. It takes the stress and pressure off, and I am free to just enjoy life, which is what we all really want anyway, right?<br />
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So, Halloween. Yes. Imagine. Play, Dream. Eat Candy. Feel the sweetness of life.Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-12151247601027626412016-03-29T18:43:00.003-07:002016-04-07T12:06:36.491-07:00Suggestion Box! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWXPPCoaATOBTBeywENzemF06jAUjeEVP6i4I1VwlNrP7GQ1zR7gfbxvie3TagvZd4aBxlVkT1hUd5wdtPuKVgmAbFwm73yD0_eGJbekHHOkRZZ-k7j87qPOR04xV1-KgWgZD0ziyYeg/s1600/suggestion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJWXPPCoaATOBTBeywENzemF06jAUjeEVP6i4I1VwlNrP7GQ1zR7gfbxvie3TagvZd4aBxlVkT1hUd5wdtPuKVgmAbFwm73yD0_eGJbekHHOkRZZ-k7j87qPOR04xV1-KgWgZD0ziyYeg/s640/suggestion.jpg" width="452" /></a></div>
It occurred to me recently (and painfully) that many of you might not actually know if your comments, suggestions, or concerns ever get TRULY taken into consideration. After all, you're not right here, working with the company every day. You're not in my overly active brain that runs on a constant mix-tape of every failure or criticism I've ever received. You don't see how I agonize and bawl my eyes out. You might just assume that I'm like most big companies, where we have some robot read your email and reply with a robotic form letter. (All the same, I do want to hire this robot, because he sounds like a pretty fun co-worker. I mean...he's a freaking robot. I'm imagine Number 5 from Short Circuit, high-fiving me while we listen to 80's music.)<br />
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BECAUSE of some very painful and aggressive criticism I received, I decided to do some blogs that let you guys know what suggestions we've received, what we were able to implement, and honestly, what we were not able to implement (not everything works for everyone.)I thought it might be helpful to see that your comments are taken very seriously, and every time one of you is honest, it helps us to get better. You want to see people succeed, right? I think it's good to remember that what we put OUT into the world is what we get BACK. Therefore, if you are contacting a company and bringing up an issue in an open and helpful way, with kind words and encouragement, you probably will receive that same type of help in your own life. Cha-ching! (One side note here....if you truly are so mad at my company that you want to see us fail and burn in the fiery pits of Hell.....first off, what the heck are you doing reading my blog? Second off, I need you to know that every time you cause a huge stink on facebook or some other form of social media, I get a HUGE influx of orders. I don't know why it happens, but our sales go up probably about 40%. The meaner your comments, the more money I make. Just keep that in your brain. Also, seriously....stop reading my blog.)<br />
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So, without further ado...adieau.....adough.....adoooh? Here are some changes I've been able to make with your help. THANK YOU, for making the product better for everyone, including me!!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMJN0Qjws4wBK7uRNuRvnS3JmdRgOKT1O_IzEn27UGYWgHQBnK9gey3eePeG04u4yo4By0M_7x9iLQ3kmhcZcRb6ycRO-a7-w4XPFhNJrqfUpm7p2FFwMWcB4o6lg0ukbJbfnQlJuiS4/s1600/tobutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMJN0Qjws4wBK7uRNuRvnS3JmdRgOKT1O_IzEn27UGYWgHQBnK9gey3eePeG04u4yo4By0M_7x9iLQ3kmhcZcRb6ycRO-a7-w4XPFhNJrqfUpm7p2FFwMWcB4o6lg0ukbJbfnQlJuiS4/s640/tobutton.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
First Change: Whether or not to button?<br />
-If you know me at all, you know that I love freaking lapel collars. I like how they frame faces, I like how the lines help to create another stacked "hourglass" silhouette on top of the other one you've already created with a corset....I just love it. With our first rendition of them, I wanted them to stay exactly in place, so I buttoned the dang things down. I thought it looked dashing! However, one of our customers came into our booth and pointed out that if the lapel had been pulled a little more over to the side, and then buttoned, it would have fit her chest a lot better. Huh....chests are all shaped differently. Oh, YEAH! But putting in the permanent "jeans style" metal post button, it doesn't allow it to be adjusted for chests. The customer told me that I could just put a button hole on the lapel, and then put a couple of buttons on the corset for different ways to pull the corset. However, right off the bat, it's good to understand a few things: 1.)Every seamstress ever HATES button holes with the fiery passion of a thousand hot pockets. 2.)I don't have a machine that does button holes. You would literally have to get an industrial machine like the ones that do buttons holes in jeans, and it's actually a machine where that's ALL it does. Crazy, right? Did you know that there is a special machine where ALL it does is sewn the inseam of your jeans? Seriously. It's really crazy looking. It looks like a really skinny ironing board with a sewing machine at the end of it, and you sew with a double needle up the inseam of jeans. Anyhow, if I were to decide to spend about $2000 on that specialized of a machine, I would need to raise prices to cover the costs, and seriously make that machine work hard for its money. See how suggestions can be helpful, but can't always be taken to the MAXX?<br />
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Thus, the collar is no longer buttoned down. It is good to mention with this style that it's best to unlace the straps in the back, lace yourself up completely in the front, and then adjust the lacings in the back to how you would like it to fit, along with folding the collar right where you want it and also maybe even putting in some cool brooches to hold those lapels right where you want them! Woot!<br />
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Another Change:<br />
Okay, so I don't exactly have a before/after type picture for this one, so I'll just try to explain. When I made these cropped tops, I scooted the front boning up so it sat a little higher, in between the breasts, rather than dropping down and starting closer to where a front bra closure might. It's REALLY cute and perfect for pregnant ladies like me, but for LAYERING over other corsets, like we've done in the picture, I had a customer inform me (She was so awesome. She made me like a 5 page google document, complete with charts, lines, arrows, explanations, and and details on exactly how she wanted it to fit and look on her chest! Wow! And she was very respectful and helpful, with no name-calling, accusations, or escalations. It was extremely pleasant....so much so that I actually dropped everything I was doing and re-drafted the pattern based on her suggestions right then and there! The finished product was marvelous!)<br />
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What she suggested:<br />
-Lowering the boning slightly, because on a larger chest like hers, there ended up being a gap between the bottom front of the empire corset and the top of the underbust corset....right there at the rib cage. By lowering it only about 1/2", it solved the problem, BUT still allowed me to have a happy medium between the old and the new.<br />
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-More curve "outward" for larger cup size. It is good to note, she is very blessed up top, so when I made hers, I REALLY curved it. However, for the standard pattern, I only gave it about an inch more of an outward curve, and only did it on bust sizes 40 and up. (remember, we're going by your actual measurement around the fullness of your breasts...not your bra size!) It did allow the breasts to "sit" more in the cups, like a bra, rather than being pushed so far up that you would cause traffic accidents.<br />
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And Lastly:<br />
This one is so simple that I don't know why I didn't see it! So, these straps are removable, but on the initial corsets, I had been riveting the heavier brass snap-hook to the actual corset.....thus, if you were going to wear it without the straps, you would have this heavy hook sort of hanging there. I had several ladies WISELY suggest that I should switch it so the much lighter D-ring would be riveted to the actual corset. The D-ring is light weight enough that you could even fold it down, and hardly even see it there. Duh! Thanks, ladies!! All the ones from here on out will be just as you suggested!<br />
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I hope this has been illuminating to see that there is a company that truly does listen and even follow your advice! I can't do everything for everyone, and sometimes I get truly odd suggestions from people who have very specific needs, and it would just be unwise to change the whole process to fit one single person and ruin it for everyone else. In those cases, occasionally we can do a custom order, but that's not even always possible. I can't tell you how difficult it can be to communicate clearly what is needed on extremely specific requests. It can take hours of emailing back and forth, pictures, diagrams, and pleas, and it might still not work in real life like it does in our imaginations! That is something I've found to be true over and over again. I have had a clear vision in my brain, but then in real life, it was an absolute flop...which is why I need you guys!<br />
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So, thank you again! I dearly appreciate all of you, and I'm especially grateful when you send kind words, tell your friends and family about our company, and have interventions with people who are wearing cheap, crappy, plastic boned corsets. ;)Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-70017565295597731322016-02-24T05:24:00.002-08:002016-02-24T05:24:44.450-08:00Damsel in this Dress SPOTLIGHT Contest! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptji8aQeTkM-svYuAEtSmVvV44_EGKO3KesyBr7ItHCdOzNUZw7Z7ITrfuJ7InDl5-Ty4SQH4LsAqAPcWHuno4R3SMeRFWDhLaGZJ2WywM4NTVqUKv-c4IjCPYXLmQcaFaQhpOzxYG_Y/s1600/i66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptji8aQeTkM-svYuAEtSmVvV44_EGKO3KesyBr7ItHCdOzNUZw7Z7ITrfuJ7InDl5-Ty4SQH4LsAqAPcWHuno4R3SMeRFWDhLaGZJ2WywM4NTVqUKv-c4IjCPYXLmQcaFaQhpOzxYG_Y/s640/i66.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks, Yia, for this marvelous picture. Hopefully you don't mind that I used it. You can totally use it again for an entry! ;) </td></tr>
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All right!!! This was a contest suggested to me by Misty H. (were you 'maiden last name' at that time? anyhow..) and it's absolutely brilliant! She told me that it would be cool to do featured "guest spots" on my blog and feature some of our customers/damselites who seriously talk the talk and walk the walk when it comes to our corsets. I loved this idea and took a million years to finally do it, but here I am!!! </div>
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How this will work is that I am going to have you guys submit "guest blog" spots, along with at least one picture for my blog. It can honestly be about anything (well....anything goes....but if it gets too crazy, like how you sacrifice chipmunks whilst in your corset, I might not end up posting it....then again....if it had interesting pictures.....*cough* No, seriously.) and I WILL say that I'm mostly interested in hearing about places where you wear corsets and things you do while wearing them. We're trying to think outside of the box here, and maybe open up some new avenues for helping women to be bold enough to wear things that make them feel radiant! Even if you wrote a really encouraging post about how you talked yourself into wearing a corset to a wedding or something......I'm open to any ideas. </div>
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I WILL be rewarding you handsomely <span style="background-color: yellow;">****$150 Gift Certificates for each Winner!!**** </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">However, the contest will end on February 29th (see guys, the year even gave you an extra dang day!!! No excuses! ;). You just need to send any entries into me at seamstress@damseldress.com and we will choose accordingly. The cool thing about this contest is that it's not a contest where thousands of other people on facebook are vying for the prize. It does take some time and thought to sit down and write, but I think it's rewarding and a wonderful thing to keep for posterity! </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"> I will announce the winners on March 1st. Good luck! Remember, I really like creativity! </span></div>
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<br />Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-21177524837474152202016-02-17T05:26:00.001-08:002016-02-17T05:26:13.732-08:00How To Be a Steampunk Vendor -A Completely Biased Opinion<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me at my last show. </td></tr>
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I was looking around online trying to find some more shows to do, since I have had several dreams viciously crushed lately (It's okay. I apparently wasn't ready to do bigger renaissance festivals yet. Admittedly, it does make my stomach clench when people cheerily suggest, "You should TOTALLY do this show! You would make a KILLING!" and it's a show that I sent in an application to, and then got denied entrance.) I understand it. I have vendors that I work with (you know, the businesses that I buy fabric, grommets, and boning from) have blessed my life and I want to continue relationships with them to grow my business. If some other company came along and said, "Hey, you should work with me!" I would really be hesitant. These HUGE festivals than run 8-10 weekends have a lot of stuff to protect, and it can especially be hurtful for them to allow TOO many types of the same kind of vendor in, because then it spreads the "success" out a lot thinner, and then everyone is angry and no one has a good show. I understand a scarcity mindset. I've been there many times in my life. I'm there right freaking now, trying to claw my way out, but feeling very raw and overly sensitive.<br />
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Anyhow, back to the subject at hand. AT LEAST if I can't get my dreams right now, I can help build other people up. This is a post intended for any of you who have wanted to take your hand-made items to a show. I'm focusing specifically on the "steampunk" genre, but really these could be applied to lots of shows where there is fine, handmade wares being presented. I hope this is helpful, and I hope that you can remember that these are just my opinions, based on my own unique experiences and observations. I don't mean to belittle or criticize anyone.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Several Tips that You Might Violently Disagree With:</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">*Do not lower your standards. </span></b><br />
I have met and seen vendors who chose to have a section of their booth that is the "cheap stuff" for people who don't have money. It's usually buy-sell stuff from China that you could find on a quick Amazon search. The strange thing is that LOTS of these people are incredibly talented artists, and they have their quality, well-priced things right along side the cheap things.<br />
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I could be totally wrong here, but in my experience, the people that are coming to these events are truly looking for something unique, hand-made, and full of life! If you are vending at a festival that is juried, and your art was good enough to get you there, then focus on giving people that experience with you and your art! I LOVE to meet my customers in person, and I hope that they have had a good experience meeting me, the lady who hands her hands all over their corset. ;)<br />
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I'm not saying that you CAN'T have little $5-$10 items to sell slowly to make your booth fee, because lots of times people truly could only afford to pay to get into the show, and they still deserve just as good of an experience as anyone else. What I'm saying is that you might want to really think about the whole picture and vision of what you want a customer experience to be. Are your smaller priced items TRULY unique and hard to find? I just met a girl who had done an incredible job of curating very interesting buttons, and had big, beautiful trays full of marvelously quirky steampunk buttons. GREAT example of how to do it RIGHT! The prices were low, but the display and the message was clear.<br />
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It can actually be hurtful to the other fellow vendors to purposely have a pile of "cheap stuff" table. The reason here is that if you are a patron, walking through a show, and you walk into one booth and see hand-made leather bullet belts for $95, and then in the very next booth you see a felt mini-top hat for $10, it can be very confusing. The price difference ends up being a shock. It's like, "Holy crap, that belt was EXPENSIVE" and then the huge price of the belt makes the cheap items look even CHEAPER, and you think, "Wow, that must be a piece of junk". No one makes money. No one wins. The vendors get bitter and the customers are confused.<br />
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I'm hoping that I'm clarifying this in a clear way. I totally LOVE seeing little stickers, buttons, and trinkety things that match the business and are specially made for the booth. I'm just lovingly encouraging you to remember that what comes out of your own brain will be better than something you bought in bulk off of alibaba.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEwOO2hCox87swJem1FUvnIy_ozFj3hPc7qv6n37DrpdbZFTZIQQE7QvEH4YmFV1JmL4cJvlG0Dvoy7iuUYQr8H7dqOu1qTCbZ3YouZkYW2j-IZAsvRKI0Bo_swrQFRAGj0Z_PYxwxgo/s1600/wetabooth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxEwOO2hCox87swJem1FUvnIy_ozFj3hPc7qv6n37DrpdbZFTZIQQE7QvEH4YmFV1JmL4cJvlG0Dvoy7iuUYQr8H7dqOu1qTCbZ3YouZkYW2j-IZAsvRKI0Bo_swrQFRAGj0Z_PYxwxgo/s640/wetabooth.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">*Always Work on your Display, but don't let it take away from your Products!</span></b><br />
I have a little bit of a struggle with this one here, because one of my MAIN goals for my booth is to have as many SIZES available as possible. I am keenly aware of how painful it is to walk into a shop where they don't even have anything approaching your size! It's embarrassing and just makes you feel like you are wrong and bad. Even with carrying about 30 different sizes, I STILL am not always able to fit ladies that come into my shop, at least not into the corset that they wanted. Anyhow, because I am so crammed full of corsets, I don't even have as much space for display.<br />
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This is going to work better for you if you have maybe smaller items, and you want to really let them shine! I read a funny blog post about a vendor who had found this gorgeous antique butter dish, and she put her business cards into it on a doily. She said that about 10 people came in and asked to buy the dish, not even looking at her other products. One lady even dumped out all the cards and said, "I just want this dish". She took away the dish.<br />
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A good way to navigate this field is to just take careful note of what you DO and DON'T like, visually, with other booths. With the beauty of the internet, you can find never ending amounts of images to inspire you, and you can make the most delicious pinterest board ever! I remember that one time I walked into my aunt's house, and she had decorated it absolutely BEAUTIFULLY. I was blown away by her sense of style and taste, and when I asked her about it, she laughed, walked out of the room, and came back with a magazine. She opened up the magazine, and there was her room. She literally just found something she liked and copied it with her own pieces. The differences were slight, but good glory, it was stunning!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIOyIqRi0wLIc6Y5X1ZhmmZFGgUuXK4Jl57o3S7NSyEiaVp-1A45tCD7aKlcpyZVqIP3JAUKCdi6opToTqCCFI_BjblHk0pNeir1vrRfCY4szWbC363eWnDm-5__alYT9Q8VZ4RlrQ-E/s1600/ceiling+tiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIOyIqRi0wLIc6Y5X1ZhmmZFGgUuXK4Jl57o3S7NSyEiaVp-1A45tCD7aKlcpyZVqIP3JAUKCdi6opToTqCCFI_BjblHk0pNeir1vrRfCY4szWbC363eWnDm-5__alYT9Q8VZ4RlrQ-E/s640/ceiling+tiles.jpg" width="430" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These ceiling tiles were only about $10 a PIECE! I had a good friend make some hinged "corners" for the ends of my Snake Oil Beauty Makeup booth, and then he glued these gorgeous tiles to them. The effect is elegant, eye-catching, and expensive looking. Do you know where I got the idea? There was a "kids fort" at a children's museum in Tacoma Washington that had walls with these drilled and patchworked into them. I thought it was so beautiful and that someday I would use the same idea! I took pictures and have remembered it for 5 long years before I finally implemented it!<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>*Do What You Want To Do.</b></span><br />
Okay, I simplified that. What I really mean to say is that you should carefully think about what YOU, YOURSELF, want to see, and then follow that. I've met tons of creative people who will be wearing some amazing costume piece, and I ask them about it, and they'll explain that they couldn't find just what they wanted to buy, so they made it. I always suggest that the should do their own booth, and I will be their first customer, and they usually just laugh and blush. COME ON, friends! If you are wearing something, and you are getting constantly stopped and asked about it, figure out how to produce it. I know that lots of people are like, "Well, this took me 40 hours to make, with much pain, suffering, and profanity and there's no way I can get people to pay me $500 for it." First off, you would be surprised. Second off, the first piece is ALWAYS the worst. Do you think I would even have a company if I made everything in the same way I made my first piece??? Good NIGHT! I would not have been in business for 12 years now!! You will be inspired. You will be lead. You will possibly even find another company who can take one element of your design, produce it by the thousands, and allow you to sell your awesomeness.<br />
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An example of this is our steampunk trim on our corsets. Did you know that I used to sit and watch TV while I held a huge roll of belting and carefully cut them by hand into 4 inch pieces, and then took a lighter to the ends to finish them and melt them....one....by....one......<br />
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I looked into a machine that would automatically cut to length and singe the ends....and it was $30,000. Yikes. My beautiful, wonderful husband figured out what to search on google, and he found a company who HAD these machines, had lots of different types of belting, and would cut them in batches of 10,000 for us. Now, granted, the up front cost is still *cough* significant, BUT I'm not spending hundreds of hours burning my fingers. We gave business to a company that was already set up to do what we wanted, and they were good at what they did! We blessed them with our business, they blessed us with their machinery and knowledge. Heck yes!!!<br />
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Well, friends, this is honestly all I have right now. I truly have to get to work, but I wanted to write this while it was in my brain! I truly hope this helps you to find courage, because that is what I am actively seeking in my own life. I know that as I keep improving myself, the good things I'm hoping for will naturally come into my life at the right time and in the right way.Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8860539656121595525.post-14360276662297956112016-01-25T17:29:00.001-08:002016-01-30T08:03:19.651-08:00"BeLIEf, Part 2"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, here we are. I'm writing this as promised. And, you know? I think this stuff might finally be sinking in. I'm extremely proud of myself, because I am CATCHING myself right in the middle of saying things that are foolhardy, lacking in truth, and the opposite of what I desire. Even this morning, my son asked if we could go to the store, and I started to say "No, I have a headache coming on and I'm feeling like crap" and it felt like the words were fully formed, but I was blundering around, trying to catch the little guys as they were spilling out of me. In that EXACT second, I thought- Do I want to have a headache? Why would I make that true with the power of my words? Do I want to feel "like crap"? What kind of message is that for my son? What kind of message is that for me? I am not crap. I will never be crap. There is no possible way I could ever be crap, no matter what I do in this life. Why would I try to "feel" my way to crap? What the WHAT???? Anyhow, I was pretty proud of myself for turning it around and saying, "Todd, I am excited to go to places too. We will not be leaving right at this moment, but you and I can both do specific things right now to enable us to happily go to the store." <br />
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And then....well, this part was just crazy. I really did "feel" that headache coming on, but I thought this instead over and over and over. "My head is light and all tension is gone from my brain. There is no reason to feel any self-loathing or stress. I release this up and out of my being, and I take my power back. I am grateful for how wonderful I feel, and how clear and light my mind IS." I then said a prayer, and then, for good measure, got out some essential oils, gently dabbed them on, inhaled deeply, and took massive, cleansing, HEALING breaths. I focused on breathing in relaxation and breathing out stress and tension.<br />
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Honestly, I felt a moment of panic because I thought, "I still feel the headache! Maybe it's not...." but then I stopped myself. This is about the power of my freaking brain!! I am MORE powerful THAN THIS!!! I didn't even let the thought finished. I repeated the previous steps.<br />
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10 minutes later, my peaceful words were true, and I felt no headache at all. At. All.<br />
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Isn't is absolutely CRAZYPANTS that there are so many "funny" little phrases that are tossed carelessly around. It's part of our dang culture! When people are indulging in their problems, you are SHUNNED if you don't nod and agree and roll your eyes and talk about how much your life sucks. I'm serious here. This is creepy stuff. These little phrases just roll easily off the tongue. They're in sitcoms. They're in your status update. They're what you casually say to strangers. We are all comfortable with them, and they are completely poisonous.<br />
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I think it's so funny that people will get all offended and up in arms about profanity, but those same people will say treacherous things like "Well, you know, that's just the way the world is." Holy face! According to WHOM?? (hey, did I use the "whom" right? I'm trying to work on this stuff.)<br />
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Here's the thing friends. When you use the power of the spoken word, you are wielding a MIGHTY weapon, especially if you are talking to someone you care about. When you speak forth words of illness, scarcity, negativity, and fear, you start NOTICING and GIVING POWER to those exact same things more and more.<br />
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I read a wonderful book on the Law of Attraction, and it said to think of your thoughts and spoken words as a literal google search. Whatever you type in, that's what you will get. EVEN if you "type in" the words "I do not want to attract creepy men", the universe will give you a perfect "search" of creepy men. Ugh. Think of what that would bring up in the google image search. YUCK.<br />
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What you focus upon, you get more of. (sorry, I know that isn't correct grammar. Oh, holy night. I'm focusing on bad grammar! There's going to be dangling participles ALL UP IN HERE!)<br />
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I always find it sadly amusing when women come into my booth at Renaissance Festivals and say ANY or ALL of the phrases in my image above. How can you possibly expect to say, "I never find what I want and they never have my size" and then somehow GET what you want in your size? That's like planting a tomato seed and expecting some nice jicama. No, it's worse. It's like planting a tomato seed and expecting a cuddly koala bear. What the WHAT???<br />
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On the flip side, I absolutely love it when a woman comes in, goes straight to the exact thing she wants on the rack, pulls out the RIGHT SIZE (yeah, this is creepy, because we carry about 25 sizes, and corsets are very specifically sized) and then we try it on and it just HAPPENS to match everything she is wearing EXACTLY. She will pump her fist in the air and declare, "Yes, I always find perfect things for me!" Well.....there you have it. I want to be this lady, personally. How about you?<br />
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What do you want? Really. What do you WANT? What are you putting into your "google search" of your life. This morning, when you looked into the mirror, did you see what you wanted? Or did you <b style="font-style: italic; text-decoration: underline;">focus </b>on all of the ways in which you are hideous and unacceptable? Isn't it just as easy to focus in on all the things you like about yourself? Doesn't that feel a bajillion times better? What seed are you planting today, and what are you expecting tomorrow?<br />
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Like I said, I'm starting to catch myself in my "lies" and it feels amazing. Do me a favor. Stop tolerating casual, but fatal, flippant little comments from the people you love. Stop allowing them in your own brain. After all, what kind of life is it when you "always" get what you "never" want?Damsel in this Dresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07903984201982912764noreply@blogger.com0