Some ideas are just too good to pass up. No, really, they are. Even if the person who originally had the idea thinks it’s a horrible idea.
Well, we at Mad Art Lab have never been stopped by something possibly being a horrible idea. What’s the use of having a blog focused on science and art if you can’t experiment with art?
So, consider this my most recent experiment.
It all started with this. A couple weeks ago The Bloggess had an idea as she woke up.
“a leotard… with a TARDIS on it. A LeoTardis.”
Now, when she woke up more, she decided this was actually a bad idea. This didn’t stop her from making a photoshop version of this bad idea and really really wanting it to be a good idea.
Of course, this being the internet, we know better. A leotardis is not just a good idea, it is a FANTASTIC idea. The fact that there wasn’t one already is the source of roughly 90% of my disappointment with Pinterest. What use is a picture-based social network if no one has made a swimsuit based on a TARDIS to show me?
This was a sad, sad situation, and I pouted. I considered breaking up with Pinterest for good.
Then I realized that sometimes I can’t pin my happiness on anything else. Sometimes, I just need to solve my own problems.
So I decided to make a leotardis of my own.
There aren’t going to be detailed, step-by-step instructions in this post. This is for two reasons:
- I didn’t think I was going to succeed, so I didn’t take the time to document each step.
- Before I started, I had margaritas. Plural margaritas.
First (vague) Step:
Make leotard, or swimsuit in this case. Since I’m not really sure what the difference is. I could do gymnastics in this. Well, I could if I could do gymnastics without falling on my face. I suppose you could buy a swimsuit too, but what is the fun of a project if you aren’t swearing at your sewing machine at some point?
This was actually easier than I thought it would be. Stretchy fabric is forgiving. I took my favorite swimsuit and traced the fabric shapes onto the blue fabric and a lining. I didn’t really worry too much about getting it perfect, since I knew I would alter it to fit better once it was on me, or my dressmaker’s dummy in this case.
Second (vague) Step:
No, really. I don’t have better instructions. I used fabric paint markers and freehanded it. I’m not really a pattern person. There’s a reason I went into anthropology and not chemistry. Chemicals explode when you don’t mix them in the right quantities. Humans don’t.
Third (vague) Step:
Consider how to get a picture of the LeoTARDIS without your neighbors thinking you’re even crazier than they already do. Procrastinate for a week while you worry about this.
Fourth (vague) Step:
Realize that your neighbors saw you take out your trash in a Marvel Girl costume last week and stop worrying.
Ta-da! Leotardis! Now, I don’t have to break up with Pinterest. And it’s all thanks to The Bloggess.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go steal myself a Doctor and run off to see the universe.