Let's take a closer look at Mildred, the disgusting 50-cent vintage dress form that I dragged home from the Jumble Sale. And, by the way, those who commented on my previous post approved my decision to clean her up but it wasn't unanimous. So, yes, I might still be crazy for taking on this task.
This is how shes looking after I took her apart, section by section, and removed all that nasty knit fabric. Much better, yes? It was pretty easy to do, considering that the fabric was mostly in tatters. I apologize for not taking pictures as I did this, but I really didn't want to touch my camera while touching Mildred for obvious reasons. And I didn't think that you would want to see her that close up. At least I wouldn't, but I'm pretty squeamish and always close my eyes when a TV program that I'm watching suddenly decides to show open heart surgery.
But I digress.
The next step was to vaccuum out more loose particles of
"stuff." I also sprayed her with some disinfectant and put her out in the sun to
dry. I did the disenfecting sparingly, however, because she's made of heavy pressed
cardboard and I didnt want to get her too wet.
As for what's next, I'm at a bit of a crossroads and seeking
opinions. I'm not sure if I should:
a) leave her industrial-style plain,
b) paint her to cover up those water spots, or
c) put on a new fabric (probably muslim or burlap).
And if you would recover her, would you do so with one big piece of fabric or recover all those individual pieces, like it was originally?
One final thing, as long as we are (literally) dissecting Mildred, you might be
wondering about her name. My daughter Grace and I came up with it for two reasons. First, we wanted an M name because I found another similar dress form several years ago with my other daughter, Emily. It was in far, far better shape and we named it
Which might go something like this (read in your best Tim Gunn voice of course):
"Mildred, I'm worried. There's quite a bit of flotsam and jetsam going on with you, and honestly Mildred, you're such a sad sack that no one wants to sew with you. Not even that designer who likes to spit on fabric. You need to rally and make it work. Whatever you decide to do to, don't bore Nina. Carry on."