The unemployment figures came out on Friday. 5.0% The predicted figure was 5.3%. The real number was better than expected. That is good.

This morning, the head of Merrill Lynch said the only scary thing in our economy right now is a consumer spending slowdown. If people on the street get scared and change their spending habits, we will go into a recession. The numbers are good. We're slowing down, but we aren't going backwards. We can achieve a "soft landing" if we keep our heads.

So you can help. Just don't change how you live. Do things the way you normally do. Just go about your daily lives normally.

All will be fine. Don't listen to the doomsayers.

Boy, the end of April was really exciting. In addition to all the lovely stuff going on here at RH, we added a brand new wholesale partner.

Reconstructing History would like to welcome The Tudor Shoppe to the Partners in Excellence.

Please visit The Tudor Shoppe or any of our other Partners for your pattern needs.

Those of you who watch or read the news have probably heard all about the credit crunch and how that's spiralling our economy into recession. Some news programs are actually being quite sensational about it and preaching doom and gloom.

My long-time readers will remember that I used to be a market analyst and that I kinda view watching the economy as a hobby these days. And I love to share my analysis with you.

( Well today I say unto you: What recession? )

Come with me, kiddies, and flip your patterns over and look at the size chart.

See where it says 'size 52'?

See where that says 'chest 52", waist 48"'?

If you have a 52" chest and a 52" waist, should you cut a size 52 and then call me when it doesn't close in front by 4"?

Thought not.

If you don't read the instructions before you cut, and therefore cut your good fabric wrong, you cannot blame me for the amount you've wasted.

That is all.

Okay. *pant pant pant* Get this.

We just hit a record sales number for the month.

A record.

We didn't get any big orders from National Geographic to put on an exhibit.

We didn't get an order from Broadway for 6700 shirts. 

We didn't do Costume Con or any big reenactor show where we'd make mega-bucks.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Just normal, regular wholesale and retail orders.

A record number of them.

In April.

Not June. Not July. Not August. Not September.

Little ol' April.

A record.

I think I'm gonna faint...

...is research.

Lately I've been very distressed to see one of my favourite words getting widely misused. And not just among the few, the insane, the historical clothing enthusiasts. This disease has spread to the general population. Just yesterday I saw a commercial for the US Army wherein a young lad announced to his parents, "I did all my research and I can get training in..."

No! You did not "do research". You went to the recruiting center and talked to a recruitment officer. Or you read a website. Or a brochure. You did NOT "do research". The simple act of reading does not count as "research".

Research requires a number of things. The first step is a literature search. In our type of research, one might do a pictorial survey as well. This is the first stage in which the researcher gathers as much information about the subject as he can. The point of this first step is to read or look at every possible example of the subject. Articles, pictures, surviving examples should be found. All this information must be intensely scrutinized by the researcher before the next step occurs.

The second step is the formulation of a hypothesis. This is when the researcher takes the information she learned in the first step and comes up with a statement she believes is true from the evidence she's seen thusfar. For example: "sniffletywidges are constructed with pleats."

The third step is the test of the hypothesis. In clothing research, this step usually comes from making a reconstruction and seeing if what we think is true actually works in practice.

The fourth step is the formulation of a theory. Contrary to popular belief, a theory is not a guess. A theory is a hypothesis that has been tested and found to be true. The theory will stand until another hypothesis is tested to prove it false.

In clothing research, there are many things we cannot say for certain. For example, we may know that sniffletywidges were typically pleated, but it's impossible for us to know why. We may guess that pleating had some religious significance to the sniffletywidge-making people. We may presume that pleating was thought more aesthetically pleasing than gathers. But unless we have found written accounts of why sniffletywidges were pleated, we cannot know why. And even if we have written accounts, we cannot know if that was everyone's reason for pleating their sniffletywidges.

This shift in definition came to my attention a little while ago when talking to an acquaintance about another researcher's work. I was speaking admiringly about her work and how like the period pictures her sniffletywidges looked. My acquaintance bristled and said, "She stole my research."

I was shocked. I never knew my acquaintance to wear a sniffletywidge. So I said, "You're into sniffletywidges? I never knew!"

"Well, not really," she said. "But I lent her all the books she used."

Um...

Okay. Look. Lending someone books is lending someone books. If someone writes an article and doesn't thank you for lending them books, that's nothing more than a social faux pas. She didn't steal from you!

And how do you know you didn't lend her books that contained information she already had? I know that I was once accused of "stealing" when I already had the illustrations someone gave me from another source.

(And how you can steal something you were given continues to baffle me...)

Those of you who know me really well know that I'm really sensitive about accusations of stealing other people's research. I mean, it's happened to me so very publically that I can't be blamed for bristling when the subject comes up.

Now I think I understand how someone could have accused me of "stealing" if she was using the same criteria as this acquaintance of mine.

So there you have it. Talk among yourselves.

Yesterday I had a piece of marvelous news:

Our patterns have been endorsed by The Companie of St. George.

If you haven't heard of the Companie of St. George, it's probably because you don't reenact the 15th century. It's no exaggeration to say that every 15th century group in the world probably has taken inspiration if not outright information from the Companie of St. George. They have been doing high-fidelity late medieval living history for twenty years or so. And everyone in the hobby draws from them or from someone who has. They are 15th century reenactment's "Foundation Sire".

I didn't ask for this link. Frankly, I didn't know that anyone from the Companie of St. George had bought from us. One day I just got an order from Switzerland. But there are a lot of reenactors in Switzerland. And honestly, the idea that the Companie of St. George would buy from little ol' me was just beyond my wildest dreams. (That statement alone should let you know how important this is.)

So I thought, "Nice. Our first order from Switzerland. Sweet!" I packed the order and put a note in it thanking the customer for our first order from his country.

When he received the patterns, he emailed me that members of his group had been buying from me for years, just not directly (they were buying through our fine German partners, Nehelenia Patterns (Thanks Christine and Stefanie!). But he never mentioned his group's name.

Then about a month later, a friend told me he was talking about my patterns on his blog. I can't read Swiss German, so she translated for me. It was awesome!

But then the biggest compliment came. He email to me and told me how wonderful our patterns are. He said:
"I just want to give you feedback to your patterns: they’re great!
You have definitely done a good job! The bundle includes everything I wish: a fine working pattern, coherent instructions, historical notes with source examples, suggested fabric and all that stuff. It's great.
Thanks a lot, and perhaps you get my next order soon."

And then he said, "And you can tell your fans that the Acting Vice President of the Companie of St. George said that!"



You could have knocked me over with an f!

I was transported back 15 years ago when I was a newbie to the dress-up-and-play hobbies and one of the 15th century guys handed me fifth-generation photocopies of St. George's newsletter, The Dragon with its detailed sketches of proper 15th century clothing and accoutrements. I wanted to be them when I grew up.  I aspired to look as perfect as they did in the pictures.  I was completely won over by the historical side of things and that's really where my obsession with historical accuracy began.

In 1995, I rushed out and bought The Medieval Soldier

Yes. Gerry Embellton's group. Heard of him?

Yup.

See why I'm excited? These guys are such sticklers for authenticity and historical accuracy that they don't just add random links to their website. So this is more than a link. It's an endorsement by the best in the "business".

*beams* *preens* *beams some more*

If you go to their website and click "Artisans", we're at the bottom of the page (because we were the most recently added).

"We are quite sure that you have to come up with your own cut for a great variety of medieval costume. However, the beginner will be happy to get the good patterns from Reconstructing History. And also advanced taylors like to take one of these quality products as a starting point for their own design."

Good for beginners. Good for advanced tailors. Quality product. Could I ask for anything more?

So if you're looking for patterns for your 15th century impression, give our Medieval line a look. (More coming soon!)

 

It's 8am. The polls have been open since 7am. Bob and I went for our morning constitutional and ending up at the polling station, and we did our civil duty.

This is the first time I've ever felt that my vote was important.

I'm a Pennsylvanian. And I'm a Democrat. You do the math.

I have never voted in a primary before. I've never felt the need to declare a party affiliation. It's never been that important before. As many of you probably realise because it's been so prevalent in the news, Pennsylvania's primary is very late in the Presidential dance, so it very rarely matters. Before we have our primary, usually the candidate who's clearly not getting the delegates needed has the good grace to quit and throw her support behind her former opponent. But since there is no such thing happening this time, it comes down to little Pennsylvania -- where the Declaration of Independence was signed, where our country was born -- to decide.

Let's hope I've helped to do something good for this country. We really need it.

[Political flames will be deleted. Don't try my patience.]

If you get an email from me trying to sell you Canadian pharaceuticals or Rolex watches, do not worry: I have not gone crooked.

My historian email address has been cloned.

For the past hour, I have been receiving 20-50 bounced email messages every five or ten minutes from email addresses where the spammers failed. But they're coming back to my email address because they've done a "reply-to" and used my address.

Bugger.

So if you get spammed with tons of messages from me, please know that it's not me. And I'm sorry but I can't do anything to stop it now. The damage has been done.

My ISP sucks.

NOTE: This does not affect the security of the website in any way. It's a totally different server managed by a completely separate, competant company.

I drafted a pattern today. An entire pattern. I measured my mockup. And then I drafted the pattern pieces in AutoCAD. Then I graded it. This is the most I've been able to do in a full two weeks.

Now I am going to take a soak in the tub and nap a bit.

50% closeout sale from now until next Friday, the 25th. All size Large (46"-48" chests). All 100% linen lined with natural linen. Pewter buttons all the way down the front and on the sleeve closures. Pocket flaps over bag pockets.

You'll never see these lovely linen waistcoats again. Please take them off my hands: http://www.reconstructinghistory.com/index.php?s=&r=Y



(Other garments available -- call or email for details)

It's okay that I took a nap after lunch. It's okay that I don't have the brainspace to work on the stuff I'm supposed to work on today, the stuff that was supposed to be finished two weeks ago. It's okay if I just lay on the couch and feel drained for a little while. It's okay if I take another little cat nap before dinner.

We got all the Fedex orders on the porch before 10am and then spent until noon at the bank talking about merchant accounts. That was a lot to accomplish on my second day of actually having energy.

I'm not 100% yet. And that's okay.

For those of you watching the scenario of my life, you know I've been down with a severe cold/the flu for about two weeks. Yesterday was the first day I've approached feeling normal since I first had symptoms and, while I still needed to take a nap in the afternoon because I felt run-down, I am well on the way back to feeling normal and big thanks go to nq3x who jumped in and took over all aspects of the business while I was lying on the couch like a greyhound.

But I'd like to tell you about something that really made my recovery happen more quickly. Bath Salts from Om Shanti Handicrafts!

My friend Kate started this business a couple of months ago, and I bought some bath salts to support her efforts. But I had no idea in what use they would come so soon! When I was stuffed up and sinusy and just wanted to breathe, her Long Day Working Bath Salts were a godsend. The eucalyptus and peppermint helped open up my nose and ears and she tells me clove is a natural analgesic which helped with my body aches. Rosemary and cinnamon lifted my mood. And Vitamin E did my skin no end of good.

When I was tired from coughing myself awake all night, Om Shanti's Queen of Hungary Bath Salts were just the thing. Lavender, rosemary and sage decorate Epsom salts and Vitamin E to make a soak you'll truly enjoy. I fully admit to using the entire jar in only three days!

And to give myself a little boost, I soaked in a bath of Refreshing Citrus Bath Salts. Made with a blend of orange and lemon, this bath perked me up and made me feel like I could meet the day's tasks -- something nothing else has been able to accomplish for a good two weeks!

Kate has other bath salts, salves, lip balms, and lovely jewelry on her site. But I'm grateful to her for these three bath salts that helped me through my illness.

If you're sick or just feeling run down, lock the door, fill up the tub, and sprinkle some Om Shanti Bath Salts in your bath.

I wouldn't steer you wrong...

Sometimes when you choose a different path, even when you know it's the right one for you, it causes you to leave behind a lot of things you love.

Sometimes these "things" are people. They are people who understand why you've chosen your path and how it's different from theirs. But you know that as you walk along your path, and they theirs, you will diverge more and more. Eventually, you just won't have the same things in common anymore. You won't have the same things to talk about. You'll talk about your path and they will talk about theirs. Eventually, it just becomes too hard. There's too much apologetica. There's too much "I don't mean that your path is any less good but..." It just gets too hard. So you have less and less to talk about, less and less to share. And your lives diverge like your paths once did.

Sometimes I look back on my "path not taken" and I wave to my old friends there. I remember our times together and the fun we had when we were on the same path. I don't regret choosing the path I did. But man... Sometimes, I really miss them!

I remember when I came home after having resigned my position in New York. I was 24 years old and working for a Regional Bank (Iyo Bank) in the World Trade Center as an Assistant Credit Analyst. It was a small branch concerned only with institutional money (we bought parts of the loans of larger Japanese banks; we didn't make any loans on our own). My boss was the sole Credit Analyst at the New York office and he was teaching me the ropes. I particularly remember helping him decide if buying part of a loan a big bank (I think it was Fuji... or was it Mitsui...) was making to AMR Corp, the parent company of American Airlines. This was 1992 when United and Continental were both in trouble. I think Continental was actually under bankruptcy protection. And Eastern Airlines had just folded. His attitude was "Well, on of the American airlines has to survive."

Even though I was not only the only American in an executive position in the bank, I was the only woman in an executire position... Even though I had a great future ahead of me -- my boss was going to go back to Japan in another two years and I'd probably become Credit Analyst when he left... Even though I spoke Japanese everyday but didn't have to conform to the inherent misogyny in Japanese officeplaces... Even though I liked everyone I worked with and they liked me, I quit. One Monday morning, I spoke to my boss and told him I needed to leave the bank. I didn't line up another job. I just resigned, packed up my stuff, and moved back home to Pennsylvania.

Now, I won't lie and tell you that there weren't other things that played into my decision to go home. But my decision to leave the bank was based on one simple fact -- I didn't want to be a Credit Analyst. You see, when you've done what your boss does and you are completely capable of doing it, but it bores you to tears, there's not much you can do about that. And as I looked over the shoulders of my co-workers, I didn't like their jobs either. High finance is fun first thing in the morning when you're in a shop with a phone on each ear and everyone is screaming and waving at each other. But at the bank end of it -- where the guys in the glass box at the back of the floor pick up the phones and speak a price to those screaming guys in another shop -- it's pretty unilaterally boring.

I didn't see a future for me as a Credit Analyst. I knew I could do it. Hell, I knew I'd be brilliant at it. It's actually where I got my first taste of research because you have to know the backgrounds of companies and investigate their histories to determine if they've been a good risk in the past. Basically you had to become the walking expert on the company you were analysing. So all my college library skills came into play and my natural love of research was ignited.

But I was bored. There was nothing interesting about Credit Analysis. Not for me. And if you don't enjoy your job and you're really finding the whole banking thing to be a big snore, what do you do? Wait until you can get a job at Macy's? Wait tables while you make up your mind what to do next? Nope. You pack it in, go home, and regroup. So that's what I did.

I remember asking my parents if we could sit down and talk about what I was going to do next. I desperately wanted someone to give me some good advice. I wanted the Big Giant Head to tell me what to do. Unfortunately my parents weren't really good with advice about things they knew nothing about. I remember sitting around our kitchen table and being almost completely misunderstood. My father was absolutely convinced that I was lazy and didn't want to work and he told me I could live under his roof, but he wasn't about to give me any spending money. I remember trying to explain to my parents that I did want to work, but I wanted to work in a job where the work was meaningful and amusing to me. That's the last time I tried to explain this to a garment factory worker and a coal company truck driver. When your parents view work as a necessary evil you have to bear until you have the fortune circumstance of being permanently disabled or making it to retirement age, there's no explaining to them that you're the kind of person who has to enjoy her work. Quitting was poison and I was lazy. That was all.

My father's dream for me was for me to be an engineer. The truth of the matter is that my father's dream for himself was to be an engineer. If he had an ounce of ambition, he could have gotten scholarships and grants and all kinds of financial help. But he didn't even try. In his town in 1943, you took your high school diploma with one hand and your draft notice with the other. And when he was declared 4F... I think it killed him. He was being groomed to be a pilot when his physical results came back and they sent him home. Mum told me this. He never talked about it. For most of my life I had no idea that he hadn't been in the War like all his friends.

I remember asking him if he'd support me while I went to grad school and he said no. I think he always considered my college education a waste of time because I never "did anything" with it. So he wasn't going to allow me to just go to grad school. He thought I was being lazy. He'd only put a roof over my head while I worked. So I got a job as a secretary and went to grad school at night. That job lasted one and a half years and to this day, it is the longest I have ever held a job. Really. Ever.

It's not that I haven't tried to settle down. At some points I've been positively in love with the idea! But the desire the settle down and be a wage-slave has never coincided with the opportunity to do so. It's as if something in my fate or destiny or genetic makeup didn't want me to get a job I liked and would stick with. It's almost as if, just when I was dancing alright in the frying pan, I would get flipped and fall into the fire and have to climb out again.

What got me thinking about this is the notion of being an entrepreneur. Of entrepreneurship as a born trait, not something you can learn how to become. Maybe you can learn to be one. I don't know. I just know that I didn't learn this. This is just how I am. Entrepreneurs just plain act differently from other people. They are not easily satisfied with the work they do for other people. They are restless. They can even be judgemental of their supervisors and bosses and rail against management decisions. Needless to say, this often leads to a series of short-term employments.

My Mum still calls me on the phone and asks why I don't just get a "normal job". Her dream for me is regular paychecks and 9-5 hours. Doesn't she remember how I hated every moment at work? Can't she recall every evening when I came home and complained about some stupid boss who asked me to do things in a nonsensical manner?

Oh well. There you have it. The Monday musings of a madwoman.

I have just finished the business taxes and sent them to the accountant for review and filing.

I consider this a major accomplishment, considering the snot-filled state of my brain at present.

I also consider myself deserving to take the rest of the week off. =)

Bob will be answering phones and taking orders for the duration. I shall be having a nap.

I haven't felt this bad since I had mono in High School. No lie. Despite my lack of sleep on Tuesday night, I felt pretty good yesterday. I went for a slow stroll along the river in the morning and in the afternoon, I asked Bob if we could go for a bit of a drive. I hadn't been out of the house in nearly a week, and I really needed the excursion.

We drove for about an hour, and when we got home, I had to take a nap. Last night, my fever started again and I felt as horrible as I've ever felt during this illness, just like when I had mono. You think you're getting better, and then it knocks you down again.

This totally sucks. All I can say is that I'm glad Bob is being so good at processing orders and folding patterns. I have been nothing but a useless lump for a week now and desperately need to be fired for negligence...