Update: I noticed an increase of visitors stopping by looking for some clues on making a mouse costume. I’m assuming it’s for Halloween. For ease of searching, here’s a couple photos of the finished product, and basic instructions. More details on the process are included in the journal entry below; you just have to read through till you come across it.
If you have specific questions, you can email me: ailina(at)portraitinlinen(dot)com.
MOUSE COSTUME
Top & Pantaloons (worn over a leotard for warmth): McCall’s Pattern 4505 (photo of envelope further b
elow)
Ears: Cut two ovals from foam (can be bought at any fabric store), cover with cloth. Add pink accent with blush and blush brush, stroking from base of ear toward the outer edge. Hot glue onto hair clamps or barrettes or whatever is easiest for you to secure to hair. (I tied Squeak’s hair into two buns to give the clamps a good anchor.)
Tail: Tie together ends of pink yarn and ribbon, leaving a long tail of the pink that is longer than the length of the ribbon. The yarn tail will be pulled later to give the tail the distinct “curl.” Wind the yarn tightly around a length of ribbon AND the yarn tail until ribbon is covered completely. Knot together at finished end. Pull tail of pink yarn, and the tail will curl and hold its shape instead of falling flat. Safety pin to seat of pants. I pinned the tail to the elastic band of Squeak’s tights and threaded it through a hole in the back of her pantaloons so it wouldn’t sag.
Shoes: WalMart has some satin slippers in black or white for only $3 or so. They’re perfectly comfortable and have a sueded sole, for protection when trick-or-treating.
Makeup: Don’t forget to draw on whiskers and a nose! I blushed Squeak’s cheeks and nose bright pink before drawing on the details.
Oh my goodness…. “Best Laid Plans” - The joke of the century.
The house is an honest wreck. It’s 12:37 AM, just after midnight, and I’m just now winding down. We didn’t get back from the performance until after 10, and by the time the kids were fed, changed, cleaned up and tucked in, it was well after 11.
I really need to sleep, but I’m wired, faced with the whirlwind day and all the things I need to do…. Makes me ill just thinking about it. And all the while, dealing with an unusual amount of stress because it’s been pointed out to me oh-so-well within the past 72 hours that I am lacking.
I sewed through the night last night. After play practice, the director decided to cast Pipsqueak in the play, as (guess what)–a mouse! I was tickled pink about that. She was four years old earlier in the summer, during the auditions. She was so precocious, she decided she’d sing for the audition, though I’d already made the call not to include her, because she was just too young to focus enough to endure those weeks and weeks of practices.
But she went with me to just about every practice, entertaining herself on the sidelines for hours on end. She learned all the songs by heart. Over the past week, I let her leave my side and go stand with the cast during voice warm-ups to sing with everyone else, since she knew all the lyrics. She enjoyed that and interacted with everyone so well.
I let her continue to mingle, and last night, the director proposed to let her participate. I was so happy for her about that, but apprehensive. She’s sung with everyone else during warm-ups, but there was no telling how she’d react in front of an audience, and she didn’t have an opportunity to do even a dry run before being up there on stage.
I told the director I’d talk with her, make her a costume, and we’d just have to see how it panned out. If she got out there under the lights, saw the audience, and freaked out, then at least she’d have a cute costume for Halloween or dress-up.
We got home from practice last night around 10. I sent the kids off to bed and took some time to brainstorm a costume. Lacking material, my first idea was to fashion a unitard-type suit out of one of M.’s old t-shirts. Pipsqueak cried and squirmed while I pinned the stretchy fabric from neck to toe. I knew it would be a challenge, working with jersey knit. In theory, it would be only a few seams, but since I wouldn’t have her there for the night to check the fit, I tossed the t-shirt idea.
Instead, I decided to build on some pieces we already had and make the rest from the patterns I already have. I knew it would have to be simple, but dramatic for the stage.
No gray material to speak of, so all I had left was some white muslin remnants left over from hula. Pipsqueak already had a pair of pantaloons Mom made last year, and since pantaloons speak of times past, no matter what era, it was perfect.
She had no white leotard or top, so the main piece I had to make was that. I chose an undershirt pattern from McCall’s (M4505). Since the mouse is the fairy godmother’s “royal page” or sorts, and a child, I thought something kind of “pajama”-like would be appropriate. The fairy godmother does visit Cinderella late at night, after all, when children–mouse or not–should be in bed, so it seemed fitting.
Of course, since it’s a play–and a fairytale at that–embellishments were in order.
The rat-turned-coachmen wear tuxedos in the play, so I decided to mimic the ruffle-tucks along the front shirt panel. I sewed a length of wide pink satin ribbon down the center, bordered on either side by two rows of delicate lace. And I trimmed the collar and bottom hem with wide eyelet lace.
For the ears, I wanted to do something a little more eloquent than the usual felt circles attached to a headband. Instead, I covered circles of foam with fabric and pinched the bottoms to make them a little concave, the way mouse ears should be. I had no fabric paint or pink remnants to detail the insides of the ears, so instead, I used blush. I never would’ve thought blush would actually be even better than any alternative! Blush is a perfect shade of pink, because it’s meant to be flesh-colored. And since blush is a powder, I could blend it–heavy at the base of the inside of the ear, then lighter toward the edges.
To secure the ears to Pipsqueak’s head, I hot-glued the foam ears to little clear hairclips I’ve used in the past for flowers. This way, the ears wouldn’t have to be flat, facing the audience. With the clips, I can position the ears individually on either side of her head and place them at a much more natural angle.
I was so pleased with the end result! The ears look like they’re sprouting out of her head, instead of the tired ol’ headband thing. And the blush gives the perfect impression of realism.
For the tail…. I wanted to depart from the same old ribbon/fabric pinned to the back of the pants, or attached to elastic at the waist. I wanted the tail to have some shape and movement.
When making yarn leis for hula, I discovered a long time ago that if I wind the ribbon/yarn too tight, it makes the lei stiff so that it doesn’t hang naturally, but instead holds whatever shape it’s put in. For leis, that’s a bad thing, but for a mouse tail…it’s ideal!
Miraculously, I had some leftover pink yarn that I used in learning to knit–just enough for a mouse tail. I dragged out my lei-making contraption and wound the yarn very tight around a long, rolled strip of fabric–thicker at one end, then tapering toward the other. I wove the ends back up into the tail, and just as I expected, the tail holds whatever shape I choose! I curled the end a bit, put kinks here and there, just as mouse tails are in drawings and cartoons.
To finish it all off, Pipsqueak wore white tights and satin houseshoes. I twisted her hair up into two buns to give me an anchor for the ear clips. I made up her cheeks to be deep pink and drew on very fine whiskers, dabbed on a little eyeliner on the tip of her nose.
Oh, her costume was just adorable. (Photo after next performance.) I didn’t finish until after the sun was already coming up, but even then, I couldn’t go right to sleep. I had the whole ensemble hanging up in the kitchen, and I stood there for a quite a long time surveying my work and chuckling to myself at the tidbits of humor I successfully infused into the whole outfit.
I’ll never know if anyone else will notice the funny little things I set out to do, but I think, in a way, that’s part of the reward in sewing costumes. Costume design–as I’ve discovered–is an art. There is so much room for self-expression, so many opportunities to create something tangible from personal thoughts and feelings.
The director and the cast just loved the new little mouse, as if the self-satisfaction weren’t enough. The feeling I’ve carried away is the same feeling I experience after performing hula to an appreciative audience, or when I’ve completed a portrait and I’m satisfied with the likeness.
I find it’s becoming easier and easier to accomplish those many complicated sewing techniques I never quite understood or successfully pulled off in the past. And I’m gaining so much confidence in myself. I no longer panic when I think of sewing something with tons of details and embellishments, and I don’t feel overwhelmed when faced with several projects that need to be done stat.
Success, however, can be dangerous. The more I learn and accomplish, the more I want to learn and accomplish, which will soon lead to biting off more than I can chew, which will lead right back to feeling bad that I procrastinate and/or fail to find the time/energy to do what I say I’m going to do.
I’ve already started brainstorming the girls’ fall wardrobes, and I’m feeling very apprehensive about that. I’ve got tons of brown corduroy from last fall, which will make great skirts or jumpers, so at least I have a starting point, and I don’t have to stress about spending a fat dollar on fabric.
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Dean is in the Gulf, and I’m expecting M. home early–possibly Sunday or Monday. Caught unprepared with the house in shambles, and I’ll have to somehow pull it all together, get the house tidy and comfy for his return, while dealing with the final performances of the play. (Fie on’t, Dean! Fie!)
And I’m still not done with lesson plans.
The organization book I’m reading has now brought me to “goal setting.” In homeschooling, this is not something I’ve done very conscientiously in the past. And certainly not in great detail. I’ve had a general idea of what all I want us to accomplish by the end of the year, like “Earth Science,” or “American History.” But I have never broken it down by more specific subjects, and I certainly have never planned the material for the year, months, weeks, in advance.
I’ve begun to do just that. Not setting deadlines, but “targets.” For instance, I plan for us to get through Ancient Rome by the end of the second week in October. The kids will all read a novel and do a book report by the end of September. We’ll get through Addition fact families by the second week in September. Among other things.
It’s a lot of work and braining to plan the structure this way, but I think this is a breakthrough for us. I’ve always known planning the year is one of those things teachers just “do,” but I didn’t think it was necessary for our family. Now, I have a change of heart, and I believe the year plan is exactly what we need.
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It feels so good to write all these things out. A way of affirming to myself I’m making progress, accomplishing things, doing more than just washing clothes, stressing about errands, cooking meals, and feeling bad about all I haven’t done yet. It feels so good, I am tempted to just go on and on and on, indulging in typing out all the happy little details of each thing on my plate.
But I know I’ve got four more scope-and-sequence books I have to get through before I’m done with lesson plans. And the time I spend typing about it, I could spend actually working on it.
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I’m so glad I’m writing something pleasant. Nearly made myself sick with worry last night dealing with pressure and conflict. I asked God to help me through that, and He did. And Pipsqueak has a painfully cute costume to show for it. Amen.
