Tuesday, 31 May 2011

Little Fall of Rexes


You know what always confused me? What the fuck did Marius ever see in Cosette? Seriously. Cosette is basically wet and annoying; she does nothing, makes no attempt to do anything (to the point of being completely disinterested in finding out about her own past) and spends the whole show moping about singing some of the shittest love songs in theatre-land (to be fair, Marius himself has a hand in those).
Whereas Eponine is, comparatively at least, spunky and entertaining. She shows bravery, determination, integrity and enough realism to admit to herself the whole Marius situation, which is something given the number of self deluded women out there.
On a similar theme, what does Christine see in Raoul? Now, Phantom is clearly a wack-job, but better a twisted genius who worships you than a rich dullard who you are (at best) fond of. I mean, she can't even trust Raoul enough to explain the situation to him fully. Would you marry a man who you cannot tell the first thing about your life?


So. This is 'Ponine - my tribute to kick-ass charecters overlooked in love. She's a T-Rex (seen here climbing the barricades) - not exactly one to win hearts, but complete awesome, all on her own.

Monday, 30 May 2011

Heads and Tails

Hurst family nuptials are, with any luck, done with for the near future - next in line being Little Sister, and, whilst I don't know how she feels bout marriage, I hope she is not thinking of anything in the immediate future. However, Eldest Brother's wedding this weekend was made worth while by the craft opportunity it represented; giving me an excuse to have a crack at making a hat (well... hat/fascinator thing).
My first thoughts were to do something steampunky with clockwork pieces, but that seemed a bit predictable, or some sort of cascade of playing cards, but the only designs I could come up with on those lines were too loud to wear with the intended dress - so when I came across these resin bird skulls on Etsy, I was delighted.
The skulls are beautifully made - very realistic, great detailing and texture, so I didn't think there was need to dress it too much. I made a bow (well, not a true bow; a folded square drawn in around the middle with a scrap of the same material) with some pretty cool string material, and added a veil of silk netting (fabrics from Borovick, of course - my favourite haberdashery, though not the cheapest). That was all backed onto a basic raffeta base, which I reshaped a little by folding and glueing, and a comb sewn onto the back of the lot to hold the thing on my head.
A nice long veil - just the thing to hide behind in all those bloody wedding photographs!
Toodles,
Noodle
PS. I feel it must be mentioned that my hat-thing was not the only bird at the wedding - there was a falcon, intended to fly down the aisle to deliver the rings - but no such joy; it got bored half way down and decided instead to roost in the rafters, doing a nice big poo down the church wall before the handler got him back, which was the most entirely hilarious thing I've seen in ages. Maybe these wedding things aren't so awful after all...

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Proclamation of the Plants

Do you know how many carrots your average vegetarian eats per day? How many poor innocent potatoes are murdered by those greedy herbivore bastards? Is it fair that so many cauliflower must die at the hands of these plant-eaters?
It is not broccoli's fault that he is not as cute as the ickle lamb. It is not cabbage's fault that she is not as anthropomorphic as a piglet. Why should we believe the vegetarian's cry that they 'love all living things' when they so clearly reserve there love only for the animal kingdom, forsaking the root, the grass and the fruit for the mere 'needs' of there diet. Hitler was a vegetarian.
Carrie is a solider in this war against the blatant prejudice against autotrophs, this botanic butchery, this massacring (not to mention mashing) of plants. She specialises in nocturnal manoeuvres, using the cover of darkness and her excellent night vision to raid kitchens the length and breath of Britain; blunting knives, denting graters and drilling holes in saucepans to protect her vegetable comrades from the tortures they can inflict.
In her time off from cook-house carnage, Carrie enjoys lace making and bee-keeping.