Lavinder Clothing Design

Sewing was something I grew up with, mainly out of necessity as we didn't have a lot of money and my mother made most our clothes. She taught and expected me to do the same. I made my first "dress" when I was five from scraps from her projects. I remember realizing that you you couldn't just sew the pieces together to make something that worked. You actually had to cut shapes that fit the body and then sew them up. In high school, we couldn't afford Levis or Calvin Klein jeans so I learned to make pants and later I made my prom dresses two years in a row. I think my interest in architecture stemmed from the desire to make things for the body to inhabit.

I often felt frustrated with the process of sewing. I had an idea of what I wanted but I had difficulty making it a reality. Often it was close, but I was never satisfied. Patterns promised sleek silhouettes and pretty, flirty hems, but never looked on me like they appeared on the models gracing the pattern books.

When I went to Japan, I learned to make yukatas (summer kimonos) from a Japanese seamstress who made all sorts of wonderful traditional Japanese clothing, including wedding kimonos. The process she used facinated me because it was so unlike what I had grown up with. She used an entire bolt of fabric for each kimono and wasted not one scrap. Each piece was utilized in such clever ways to stiffen a sleeve or support the collar. She hand-stitched everything with a leather strap around her middle finger. This was sort of a Japanese-style thimble that she used to push the needle through the fabric in quick, perfect, machine-like stitches while her forefinger and thumb fed the fabric onto the needle. She would sit on the tatami mat and hold the end of the fabric pinched between her toes and pulled tight to her nimble fingers that magically put all the pieces together.

Over the years, I traveled all over SE Asia, often purchasing fabric and occassionally pulling it out to fondle and consider. I was always hesitant to cut into it. It just seemed way too precious.

My daughter is the one who re-initiated me into sewing when she found my stash of fabric, and, inspired by reruns of Project Runway that we watched on Netflix, Erica began to cut into my (almost) forgotten fabrics and drape and configure them on a manequin. She was fearless and really, really good at it. I felt inspired to play with fabric again.

Coming back to sewing has been a very different experience now that I dance with a hoop. At first, I just wanted to make things that were comfortable and allowed for a large range of movement. Not surprisingly, I found that different outfits informed my dancing almost as much as the music. Almost like a fourth element (the hoopdancer, the hoop, and the music being the first three), wide legged pants and flowy skirts drew my attention to my legs and acted almost like another hoop. When I finally started hooping with my hair down, I realized how much my dance opened up.

I've been incredibly inspired by other women before me who make original clothing for hoopdancers: Jasmine from Hoopclothes.com, Annie from Annieland, Kari from Ipseity. So, I've bitten the bullet and have begun making spinning skirts (and other fun things!) specifically to sell for hoopdance. Each one is unique but they all flow well, particularly with spinning dance. I will begin selling them at the HoopPath Retreat in June. They will range in price from $60 to $120. Here is a video of my hoopsisters Bonnie and Melissa playing in the barn in two of my newer skirts:

www.youtube.com/watch

Santa Cruz Hoopcamp

I'm not much of a blogger (yet!) but I feel like I have been bursting with impressions and feelings from the experience of Hoopcamp last week and want to take this opportunity to write about it while it is still forefront in my mind. When Heather Cruz, the organizer of Hoopcamp Retreats, asked me several months ago to teach a little workshop at this event, I was so honored and touched that it never occured to me to say anything but yes. I have been substitute teaching for Baxter when he was a Burning Man for a couple of years now and felt like this would be a great opportunity to push myself and spread my wings a bit. Although I often felt apprehensive on the way to a teaching gig, I always found the experience to be incredibly rewarding and could see that in teaching, I had learned many times more than my students had just by making the effort to share what I knew about the hoop. Teaching in itself is the best teacher.

But as the date approached and the scale of the event became clearer to me (we were to teach the entire group of nearly 90 attendees at one go!), I began to get anxious about my ability to speak to such a large and accomplished group of hoopdancers. You see, I have had, in my past, terrible, terrible stagefright. Just the idea of standing in front of people and saying more than a couple of sentences has the potential to make my palms sweat and my heart race. Even at our very intimate HoopPath Fires where I am surrounded by the people who quite possibly know me and love me more than anyone else on the planet (except my immediate family), I often get really nervous sharing. I don't think many people who know me realize the extent to which I am capable of scaring myself around public speaking. In HoopPath terms, singing in the shower is most definitely my First Current and I don't hold back, while singing into a mic in front of my peeps is my Second Current and has the potential to be my Current of Humility. Ann and I were actually scheming about how to arrange for me to stretch the HoopPath concept of Blind Hooping to Blind Teaching. ("I'm just going to put this blindfold on while I teach this workshop, guys. Just carry on as if I was a normal hoop instructor.")

I don't know if I spent more time preparing for this workshop than the other instructors, but I think it is quite possible that I suffered and worried many times more. I found myself waking early in the morning trying to imagine just HOW was I going to do this. Ultimately, I had to surrender to the fact that there was no way that I could play magician and predict the future. I just had to prepare, prepare, prepare and tap into a confidence that has often eluded me in life. I would waver between, "I can do this!" and panic ("Oh, my god, I can't do this!") Baxter and Ann have to be commended for their efforts at dealing with my very neurotic and sometimes teary nature. I also benefitted from the very generous support and feedback of my HoopPath sisters, Bonnie, Mary Water, and Samantha.

In the end, I think I must have encountered and tackled all of the boogie men in my closet and under my bed, because as Baxter began teaching, I found myself falling into a calm kind of surrender, realizing that it was really happening and that I could do it, I was going to do it, and that there was no turning around. It reminded me of giving birth. I remember while being pregnant with Erica reading and studying all of the books and articles, attending birth classes and trying to imagine myself having a baby. But when the actual event was happening, all of my preparations and efforts to predict what the event would entail paled in comparison to the reality of being in the moment and actually doing it. I remember leaving our home on the way to the Birth Center thinking, when I come back, I will have had this amazing experience and will have a baby in my arms. When I said goodbye to my dance space before going to Santa Cruz, I thought, "When I come back, I will have taught a workshop in a place I've never seen to a huge group of people, and I will come back a different person." All of this proved to be true. And just like when I was anticipating giving birth to Erica, when I could only imagine the event of birth itself, I couldn't see past it to the other side, the bigger and much more rewarding and important side, of what my experience was going to be like after pushing the baby out. Giving birth is just one step. Yes, there was experience to be had after surviving the teaching event itself. Then, I got to revel in the pleasure of learning from all of the talented instructors teaching at Hoopcamp.

Having been a part of the HoopPath Retreat for the past two years, I was aware of the potential for learning and bonding that naturally occurs when like-minded folks with a passion for hooping are brought together in one place. I KNEW it was going to be incredibly rewarding and fun. And even with those very high expectations, Hoopcamp surpassed even my highest hopes. I'm afraid that by the end of the two and a half days hooping in the redwood forest, I was walking around drunk with hoopluv and declaring my feelings for every hoopdancer I passed. I don't know if I appeared as giddy on the outside as I felt inside, but I felt light on my feet and in my heart at the same time that my old body was aching and complaining. I think I hit the wall physically many times during the Retreat, exhausted and thinking there's no way I could hoop even another revolution, and somehow I found the energy to push through to another level of hoopbliss. This motivaton came from the feeling of community and unity that each hoopdancer brought to Hoopcamp. I enjoyed every minute of my time there.

If it were at all possible, I think I'd like to spend the rest of my life going from one Hoop Retreat to another. I had the feeling that the experience was like a very flavorable sauce that had been reduced to its most intense and perfectly seasoned state. There was no extraneous moment or room for unnecessary ingredients. Only the most delicious and unique blend of the exotic and tasty. I literally got something out of every workshop I took. I was amazed at the eloquence of each teacher and the authenticity with which they spoke about their approach to the hoop. Not only were these instructors totally badass hoopdancers, but they were also incredibly skilled instuctors. Old prejudices regarding certain techniques melted away as I discovered the joy of "getting into character" and the pleasurable precision required in circus spinning.

Bunny Hoopstar's energetic and technical presentation was enhanced by her fresh, colorful personality and presense. I loved Erin Shredder's combination of challenging acrobatics and heartfelt encouragement to love ourselves. Both of those concepts have challenged me greatly in life and seeing her excel at both, I could believe in what i had previously thought out of my range or ability. Stephan's workshop challenged my stage-frightened nature and gave me a glimpse of the actress inside. Julia and Spiral, hoop goddesses who pathed the way for me in Carrboro, spun beautiful circles of Belief into my hoop consciousness and I felt anew immense gratitude for their influence and uniqueness.

Sharna Rose was a shining light; totally, authentically herself as she encouraged us to tap into the inner hoopchild who loves to play and delights in the unexpected. I found myself hopping and skipping across the field in my hoop in ways I never thought possible. I will forever be grateful to her for getting my grumply little Erica to open up and cut loose with her hoop. I think that Erica loved Sharna's class even more than I did, and that's saying a lot.

Every time I take a class from Christabel, I go deeper into myself and further out from my constricted, self-conscious core. I have always loved and been challenged by her classes and her infectious energy, but for some reason, this particular workshop took me many times farther along this path. I found myself, tired and sore, at 8:30 in the morning, after a big breakfast, dancing with more abandon than I ever had previously. We hooped hard for a full 50 minutes, totally on our Core, in a delicious and delightful Mingle. I found myself making eye contact with the beautiful hoopdancers around me and felt strongly the sense of joy and community that comes about when Hoopers come together and let go.

It was such a pleasure to hear for the first time one of my hooping heroes, Hoopalicous, speak about her approach to the hoop. She is fresh and authentic, down to earth while honoring the Joy that brings all of us to the hoop. I heard in her voice the wisdom of experience and the balanced perspective of someone who has been doing this for a long time. I feel much gratitude for the place she holds in our hooping community. (And it was lovely meet her beautiful, beautiful mother. It felt good to me to witness another mother-daughter relationship at the Retreat.)

Shakti and Alicat offered much wisdom and experience in guiding an insightful discussion about running a hoop business. I loved how they made room for the various voices in our group and I learned a lot about conflict resolution and consensus. Annie helped me and Erica make fun, "not-quite-matching-because-that-wouldn't-be-cool-mom, duh-h" tops that we wore to the big hoopjam on the field Saturday night. I think Erica would like to move in and apprentice with Annie. (I'll see what I can arrange with her when Erica reaches those difficult teenage years.)

Lastly, I want to give props to Baxter and Ann for transporting me, in spite of my nervous state, with their very earnest and heartfelt workshops. I felt so absolutely honored to teach alongside them, and even though I see them on an almost daily basis, I always love to hear them speak from their hearts about what they hold so dear. I have witnessed Baxter grow as a leader and strong voice in the hoop community and I find myself bursting with a weird kind of motherly pride when I see him step into his teacher/preacher mode. Ann, whose voice always rings true and clear, is blossoming in her own way and I find myself feeling in awe yet again as I see her evolve into another beautiful version of herself.

And to Heather Cruz, a big thank you, thank you, thank you for a perfectly wonderful weekend. I treasure every part of it.