Saturday, June 16, 2018

Cassandra, the Gypsy Girl

Summer conjures up so many feelings in us.  The thrill of the last school bell (still!), the desire for sandy shores and beach chairs, the sound of the ice cream truck (do they even have those any longer?), and a restlessness for faraway places.  To travel unimpeded...perhaps in a glorious wooden caravan with a bell that tinkles suspended from an ornate hook by the door.  Perhaps to meet up with Dorothy's traveling salesman who just happens to have a crystal ball on board.  I'd grab my dog and my basket in a blink and go with him anywhere.


Truly, we all know (I hope) that the gypsy life of years gone by was not a picnic, and there was simply no such thing as feminism.  Girls were bought and sold, used, abused and beaten.  A girl dare not fall in love with any man her father did not pick for her.  Shall I go on?  No.  Because when we muse on "gypsy", we imagine the exotic, the untamed, the swirl of colorful skirts, and the teller of fortunes by palmistry, tarot cards, and that translucent orb, the crystal ball. 


In my research, I was reading a wonderful blog by a woman whose great-grandmother was a gypsy.  She included this stunning studio photograph of her great-grandmother, and had written "that all gypsy girls were dancers and fortune tellers".  Sadly before I had a chance to read the entire journal entry, my computer froze up and I had to reboot.  So be it.  Try as I might, I could not recover the article. So I continued looking for a photo that would inspire. 
  
I have made several gypsy costumes for dolls over the years, but a recent purchase of a "fortune teller" doll by a friend got me interested in making one from the knickers up.  I have a cabinet of sad little Lawton dolls who over time have lost an accessory, gotten dirty with age, or were simply no longer wanted.  These are the dolls I create "brand new" ones from.  And, so it was for the Lawton "Danielle" I had stashed away.  She's a 14" wood body and porcelain, which are the dolls I most prefer to create with.

After some continued browsing around the Internet and Pinterest, I found this fabulous studio portrait of two gypsy girls in costuming that caught my eye.  So unusual.  Pleated skirts!  The caption read "They appear to be wearing traditional ethnic clothing.  The photographer is Olga, and the studio is located in Oravicza, Romania."  Bingo.  That did the trick.  Had to do this one.  And, lucky me, I got to select the colors the skirts and scarves would be.  In other words, I had to "make this up".  Test my mettle, as a creative sort and all that. 

I pulled out all my silks and made several piles of coordinating patterns and colors.  I wanted this costume to be as authentic to what these girls actually wore in the sepia photograph as I could make it.  For all I know, they could have been wearing red and aqua.  But, I liked the earthiness of the burgundy, mauve and purple.  Sunset colors.  Summer sunset colors.  And so I began. 

I'm not a fan of making undergarments.  Never have been.  Why?  They do not show.  Seems a waste of effort.  But, after I found a suitable wig for the doll, I made a pair of knickers in a beautifully woven shirting cotton.  No photo.  Sorry.  Can anyone tell me what a girl child, a gypsy girl child would have worn under those skirts?  Maybe your guess is a good as mine.  Knickers seemed likely for the time period.  No one's going to see them anyway, and I wished to concentrate on the costume. 

A blouse was next.  I've seen many images of gypsy girls in short, puffed sleeves.  Peasant blouses.  And, women with alluring, eye catching décolletage.  Cassandra is a child, and she also has a wood body - not that this has ever bothered me - but long, billowing sleeves seemed right for her - in opposition to the costuming in the photograph.  My doll.  I can mix it up a bit if I like, but I did create the high ruffle collar for the blouse.  As she is a "cabinet doll" and will never be redressed (by me at least), I closed the blouse with little snaps in the back.

Not liking to work with velveteen very much, I did the vest next.  Oh how I forget how difficult it is to work with!  Especially lining it.  The velveteen has mind of its own.  I do pin the silk lining to it alternating the direction of the pins, but it never really wants to behave.  Third try, I got it.  I lined it with a beautiful black silk that has tiny gold embroidery on it.  Little diamonds of gold.  It was the only black silk I had on hand, and this felt right.  Use what you have on hand.  The belt naturally came next.  Do all the velveteen at once!

The belt is decorated with a heavy gold thread that I tacked on to create the design.  The paillettes I used throughout this costume were heavy jeweler's pieces.  I found these 3/8" pieces offered on Ebay and bought all five sets of them.  I had no idea how many I'd use, and its best to be safe than sorry.  They are hammered (indented), textured.  I would have had to make my own from the plastic ones with a hole punch, and fully intended to do so, but the almost "bronze" color of them looked wonderful with the warm colors of silk. 

I had plenty of this burgundy silk left over from Louise Godey's first holiday dress.  I spent a good deal of time pleating and pressing, and pleating a pressing to get this skirt made.  I always hem the fabric first when pleating, then measure the length its going to be.  In this case, 6 1/2".  So far so good.  I attached the waistband, and began on the unusual,. and separate apron skirt that falls to the back and front.  Pleated, once again, but with paillettes running up the sides of the two apron pieces.  Took some figuring out, but I attached a waistband that opens at one side and closes with a hook and thread loop.  I had to make this shorter by an inch, and also make the pleats slightly smaller.  Worn by a child, the volume created by these pleats would indeed provide a wonderful fullness as she spun around and banged her little tambourine. 

Her main head scarf is this horrid-to-work-with tissue weight silk jacquard.  I love this silk.  Its one of the prettiest pieces I have and folds and ties up like a dream, but it ravels like crazy thing the minute a needle touches it.  I did finish the edges with tiny twice folded over edges machine-sewn down.  My sewing machine has a rolled edge foot attachment, but I'll be darned if I've ever gotten it to work.  I know this can be done by hand, but I'm not sure I'd really have the patience to do this - especially for a doll's scarf that's all folded up and tucked in.  (Its just not that important to me, nor do I think it detracts in any way.  This is not an heirloom wedding veil.  My rationale.)

Saved for last was the sewing-on of the paillettes.  Each pleat point on the apron was given one and each paillette is sewn on with its own little knot.  Five go up each side of the apron pieces.  They are sewn to the edges of the vest going up to just below the shoulders.  I never thought I'd get them all sewn on, but all I kept thinking about was how some gypsy mother sewed all of them to these children's costumes - and probably faster and with more skill than imaginable.  What I was doing was nothing in comparison. 

Finally, it was time to make her a pair of slippers, sandals...something on her feet.  Dancing shoes that were also practical for everyday wear.  I created a pattern for a sort of espadrille, and used a dark wine-brown leather for them.  I wanted something that was summery.  A shoe that would be cool and comfortable, speak to the warm days and nights of the season.  I like this style and hope to use it again sometime. 

After I had her dressed, there was still something missing.  A necklace and a little "color spot", a little pizazz to the overall look.  I bought some chain, tiny jump rings and a lobster clasp and made her a "coin" necklace with some 3/8" pressed jeweler's coins.  The color spot was another scarf added as a hair band.  Both scarf styles are noted as proper gypsy wear, and look lovely together.  The fringe on both her hip sash and head wrap were done by pulling horizontal threads out from the fabric. 

I came up with the name Cassandra after listening to Al Stewart's song Helen and Cassandra.  It just happened to be on my playlist that day.  Cassandra was a Greek goddess who was given the gift of foretelling the future by Apollo.  As the story goes, she did not do his bidding, and he made no one believe her when she predicted the fall of Troy by the Trojan Horse army.  Her fate will not be my little gypsy's, but it is such a lovely name and rolls off the tongue like the swirl of silk skirts.  She can be fortune teller and dancer.

Below are some wonderful studio portraits of gypsy girls.  You might even recognize one of them.  Wishing you a pleasant summer!

Love,
Melissa