Budget Ballet Backpacks, or How to Make a Little Dancer's Eyes Light Up on Christmas

I'm a person who'd rather spend time than money. Not that I have excess time; it's just more readily available these days. So Christmas usually means I put on my thinking cap (a striped beanie with a red propeller) and rummage through the Stuff Stash. I have a few kids of my own, and several nephews and nieces, so it's always a long rummage.It's always been fun to pull out long-forgotten bits of fabric or trimming and consider what they might become. Over the years I've turned out a few princess dresses, "board" games made of fabric--still in use!, dolls, stuffed animals, all sorts of things. My sister says she never knows what to expect when her kids open presents from me. I choose to call that a compliment.

This year I spied a bolt of gorgeous white and gold fabric I had bought with visions of re-creating something from the 1770s. (Dreams, mere dreams.) And I remembered I had thought of making pillowcase backpacks for my nieces and daughter. The idea that came to mind was slightly more elaborate than pillowcases, though. That fabric was perfect for suggesting the elaborate leotard-and-tutu ballet costumes most little girls love. So, ballerina backpacks were in the works.

Backpacks are easy--trace a circle for the bottom; measure the circumference (geometry is FAR more useful than my math teachers ever let on); cut out a panel equal in length to the bottom's circumference and twelve inches in height; measure and make straps. Sew  the two short sides if the backpack body together; attach straps; sew on bottom; repeat with lining, then attach a closing system. I'm not going into the technical stuff here. better, more detailed instructions can be found all over the web.

The fun part in this case was the decorating. I have boxes of fancy scraps--too sheer, lacy, or satiny to be used in quilts, and not large enough to be used in clothes. I label them as "fancy costume" and hope to use them some day--and their day came a-callin'. Each backpack has a fancy center panel, lace trim with a ribbon draw-string closing, and beads, sequins, or gems for added interest. The part that gets the concept across, though, is the tutu on the bottom of the pack. I used tulle-on-a-spool, usually used for decorating weddings. (It's always the details that make things special, no?) I admit I had to buy the tulle; not even I have everything I could possibly need. But the results were totally worth it. The backpack itself suggests the ballerina's body (if the ballerina were a pudgy five-year-old. It could happen!), and the tulle floats just like ballet costumes do.

Two specimens:

(These went to Canada. Maybe I should have sewn an anorak on each one, just for fun.)

Ultimately, I made eight of these packs. each one took around three hours to make--with the greatest time going into the decorating and tutu-making. (I will go on record as saying tulle is a PAIN to work with slippery, stretchy stuff.) I hope the girls like them on Christmas morning!

If I were a cuter person I'd title this one "Darlin' Garland", but I'm not, and I can live with that

When the Holiday season rolls around (or, as it does around here, pulls up shrieking and smoking from excess speed), I tend to step into the studio (hahahahaha) and say to myself, "Self, there's got to be something festive and moderately attractive somewhere in this mess." This year visions of soft blue and white decorations on the mantel danced in my mind--maybe something like frosted jars and mercury glass filled with blue glass ornaments and delicate snowflakes, accented by peacock plumes for panache. I know: expensive tastes. But it's no good having foie gras wishes on a bologna budget. So I entered the "creative zone" with an open mind.

The first thing I saw were some pine cones gathered from under the pine tree in the yard. "Seasonal," I thought. "Workable, could be a jumping off point.) And then I spied a jar of beads from a garland given to us fourteen years ago--which split asunder ten years ago, and which has been waiting in that jar for just such a moment. A plan hatched itself somewhere in the depths of my imagination.

Ultimately my materials list became:

• pine cones 
• beads 
• white spray paint (left over from another, non-studio, project)
• green felt (originally intended to be made into a bag, but not enough yardage left after various projects through the years)
• wire ( Left over from making corsages a couple years ago. Not even eleven wrist corsages can use up an entire spool of florist's wire.)

I sprayed the pine cones with the paint to make them frosty looking--because when one lives in a desert one's white Christmas is limited to what one can create artificially.

When they were dry I wired them together in groups of three, adding wired red beads (also in groups of three) to each group. (The odd-shaped objects in the jar and on the work surface are "hunny" pot beads, It had been a Winnie the Pooh garland at one point. Someday I'll find a use for those things.)

I cut the felt into wide strips, then persuaded my son Jay to "feather" them--cutting from the sides toward the middle. When he was done I used a long running stitch with embroidery floss to loosely gather the felt into a long strand. When I was finished, I "smushed" the garland in my hands to separate the feathered edges and to produce a more natural look (Well, as natural as one can be when suggesting fir with felt.)

I wired the pine cone and berry groups more or less equally along the length of the emerging garland, then added additional berries in between groups. (And tucked the wire ends underneath--much neater looking than the picture, taken before said step, suggests.)

That was it. Once it was hung by the chimney with extreme care, it looked pretty good. A fun project with a great price for my favorite time of the year. (The "mirror" there on the mantel is another fun "studio story". Thrift store frame, aluminum foil, dish soap, and black shoe polish. Faked my sister out the first time she saw it.)