Will the real spidergirl please stand up?

I got to be someone else for an afternoon.

Actually, I kind of got to be 4 completely different people: a b-girl, a member of a tribe, a snakey gothic-fusion princess, and little ol' me. That's the beauty of performing. But what I'm talking about goes a bit further--I actually changed my name for a day.

It all started when I first contacted the lovely Karen, chief putter-together of this weekend's excellent Solstice Hafla, about performing at said event; her reply to my query requested, among other things, my name "stage and/or real"... which got me thinking. I had daydreamed taking a new name many times in the past--I think everyone has, at some point--but I had never really considered or had use for a stage name before. A lot of bellydancers have them, though, and so I pondered.

Because bellydance has its roots in the East, many dancers choose exotic-sounding Arabic names, often words whose meanings have personal significance. I don't feel any special connection to that language, though, and I thought I would feel a little bit silly choosing a name that looks and sounds pretty but doesn't resonate. Besides, first I needed to decide what I wanted my name to mean.

I like spiders; I've always been fascinated by them, I've been given many spider-shaped pieces of jewelry over the years, I've even thought of making a spider the subject of my first tattoo. As a textile-hound and a knitter, I appreciate the spider's mythological presence; and, like Charlotte, I also enjoy weaving a web of words.

Now throw in the fact that my first public bellydance performance was set to "Spider-man" by Moxy Fruvous, and that, as a result of that, my youtube handle is spidergirldancer, and I think we have a winner. But I could hardly just call myself "Spider" and leave it at that, now could I?

Arachna: now there is a name I'd come to regret; waaaaaaaaay too goth for someone who wears as much colour as I do.

Something derived from the French maybe?

Araigna: sounds pretty, looks... not so much. People would probably read it somewhere in the neighbourhood of "oregano".

Let's check out the other romance languages. Italian:

Ragno: just... no.

Spanish:

Araña: hmmm, getting warmer. The "ñ" can be a bit of a pain, though, so maybe "Arania"? We'll keep that one in reserve for now.

Japanese, just for kicks.

Kumo: not bad, kind of cute, kind of anime. I almost went with that, but I wanted to make one last stop before committing.

My heritage on my mother's side is Welsh, and I have made intermittent efforts to learn the language over the last few years, with the help of BBC Wales. Now, Welsh can be very, very beautiful... but also sometimes very, very odd-looking and -sounding, so I wasn't really expecting to find a winner here, but I had to look. To my oh-so-pleasant surprise, the Welsh word for "spider" is quite lovely: Corryn.

The only problem with it is that it's easy to mistake for "Corinne", when in fact the stress falls on the first syllable: KOR-in, with that slight trilling "R" that's found in Welsh. No matter. When I perform, I am now Corryn, the weaver, who will delight and amaze you with her nimble acrobatics (ha!) and narrative spun out of dance.

DIY Bling: a Primer

I will be performing a bellydance fusion piece on Saturday at the Solstice Hafla here in Halifax, and I’ve been busybusybusy putting together a kick-ass costume. One of the highlights has been making some ridiculous fake bling. For those of you who would like to follow along at home, I present here a step-by-step, illustrated guide to pimpin’ yo’ dancewear.

Step 1:

Google “bling”. Be sure to check the image results for inspiration.

Step 2:

Gather your supplies. You’ll want some cardboard, tinfoil (or Caramilk foil wrappers if you’re into gold), scissors, a utility knife, fine-tip markers, pencils, glue sticks, glue gun, PVC (white) glue, artist’s paintbrushes (crappy ones are fine--you’ll probably end up destroying them), glitter, rhinestones (if you can find them for cheap, which I couldn’t), and anything else that strikes your fancy. Oh, and protect your work surface with a plastic tablecloth or something that won’t stick to your pieces when you’re gluing them.

Step 3:

Rough out a design in pencil, and when you’re satisfied outline in ink. Keep in mind that when you cut this out, it shouldn’t fall into pieces (unless that’s what you’re going for), and design accordingly.

Step 4:

Cut it all out using whatever combination of scissors/knives/jedi mind-tricks works for you. Be careful not to impale yourself on sharp objects.

Step 5:

My favourite! Gluing! The method I found works best is to get one side of your cardboard nice and gluey-gooey, stick it down on the back side of a piece of foil, flip the whole thing over and rub until it’s fairly smooth and you can see the whole outline of the cardboard through the front of the foil. Kind of like making those crayon rubbings, you know? Then lightly trace the point of the utility knife around the outline to cut away the “negative” foil areas. Be gentle--you don’t want to tear any foil from the areas that are glued.

Step 6:

When the first side is all foiled up and the glue is dry, repeat step five on the other side.

Step 7:

Decorate! You’re going for as much flash as possible, people, don’t hold back! Like I said, I wanted rhinestones, but I couldn’t find any good ones for a decent price, so I’m going with loose glitter set in a bed of hot glue. This bling is going to tell people how utterly dope you are, so really get in there and make it your own.

Step 8:

Wear with pride/irony, and sh-sh-sh-shake like a Polaroid picture.

they may take our lives... but they'll never take...

On Tuesday, my dreads turned 8 months old.

The topic of dreadlocks, mine in particular, and hair in general, is something I’ve wanted to write about for a while, but it’s been a bit hard to focus--there are so many things to say. Do I talk about the process? About the personal effects? About the somewhat political nature of this and any other “radical” hairstyle? I didn’t really feel like I could get a cohesive post with so much going on, so this is sort of a three-parter.

The Process

I get asked surprisingly often who did my dreads. That awesome person is my sister, who spent many, many hours backcombing the crap out of my head and rolling... and rolling... and rolling... It actually took three sessions to get my whole head done, I think, and I finished up the front section on my own. My hair is a bit thin these days, so I chose to go with lots of skinny dreads instead of a few fat ones. They got considerably skinnier as they tightened up, so they are really teeny now, and the ends actually still curl!

I’ve been using mostly Knotty Boy products to care for them; they all smell really nice, they’re Canadian-made, and I can actually get my hands on them where I live. I change up my maintenance ritual fairly often, partly in accordance with what the dreads seem to want, and partly because I have a hard time sticking to a routine. I give my scalp a good sudsy scrub every few days, and I try to keep the fuzzies down and keep them in nice shape by palm-rolling with either tightening gel or dread wax. Most days they require wonderfully low-intensity styling.

Most days.

There are some times when they drive me crazy by:

• trying to grow together
• forming huge, ugly loops and mats in the ends that refuse to lock up
• itching like the devil
• getting tender and pulling so that I can’t wear them up
• retaining a cloud of frizz, despite my best efforts

But you know what? I forgive them. Because I love them. Which brings us to...

The Personal

I’ve heard a few people refer to the locking process as a sort of “journey”, and I definitely feel that, while having dreadlocks hasn’t been quite a journey unto itself, the experience has been a major part of my overall personal renovations.

It was amazing to take a leap and do something I’d been longing to do for ages, something a bit risky. It was about asking myself, Who are you? and, What does that person look like? It was about not compromising in my decisions for the sake of a job (more on that later) or what other people might think.

It’s helping me practice patience and self-love, on those days when things are not going so smoothly. It demands that I take a certain amount of time out to take care of myself.

And--I admit it--I think I look really, really cool.

The Political

Hair is a pretty charged social issue--you know: “Long-haired freaky people need not apply”. A woman cuts off her hair and people start asking if she’s a dyke. Forcibly cutting off or removing an individual’s hair is a time-tested form of punishment and degradation in many eras and cultures, from the witch trials to WWII to modern India, where it is traditional for widows to be ostracized and must shave their heads as part of the process. Gender identity issues, sexual politics, religious afflilations, national security--all are tangled up in hair, to some extent.

Forgive me, but I’m lifting the following section whole from my post to the facebook group Freedom is in the Hair:

So far I haven't had any trouble at my job, but that's because I kick ass and they can't afford to lose me... but I can foresee it becoming an issue if I want to move up. The dress code has a vague blanket prohibition against "extreme" hairstyles. It actually singles out "spiked" hair--I'm not even sure what they're referring to there, as there are a lot of spiky styles that fall well within the mainstream these days, but whatever.

The thing is, customers LOVE my hair. I hear positive comments nearly every day. I polish up to a nice bank-professional level of shiny for each shift, and I'm always careful to groom my dreads and pull them back into a conservative style; within that context, I think folks enjoy the subtle but insistent reminder that the person serving them has an actual personality.

I've thought a lot about what I would say if someone from head office came down and pitched a fit about my appearance, and I think--despite the fact that I am completely irreligious--that I would have to claim spiritual reasons, because (right now, at least) I feel a strong sense of connection between the ability to present myself freely, as I see fit, and my spirit's well-being.

Thrift Shopping

I have been meaning to write for a while about the good finds I've been making lately on new-old clothes. Here goes.

While there are some fancier, more discerning second-hand fashion boutiques in downtown Halifax, most of the volume stores are located outside the city centre, which means that bargain hunting can be a bit of a marathon event. The first place I hit up when I got here, and the only location I knew about for a long time, was the Value Village in Bayers Lake Shopping Park. Getting there requires a forty-minute bus ride and some careful timing (the bus stop for that route is about a ten-minute walk from my apartment--when I leave myself extra time, the bus is always late; when I think I've got it timed just right, the bus speeds by while I am waiting to cross the street and I have to wait a half-hour for the next one), but Bayers Lake is a sprawling complex of big-box stores, so it can be worth the effort if one has other errands to accomplish. I went to this one several times while I was still living with my mom, and made a few good finds, but nothing really exciting.

I learned through the grapevine (ie. my sister), though, that the Value Village in Dartmouth is a better bet, by virtue of being less popular and thus less picked-over. The downside, of course, is that it's in Dartmouth, and there is nothing else around it, so you pretty much have to make the trip just for that. I did trek out there a few weeks ago, and I found it worth the trip, at least in that case. I picked up a few really pretty pieces, including a summery silk skirt with the tags still on for $9, a sexy beaded top for $6, a cute little sundress, and a bunch more. I'd harbour-hop again.

Even better than the Dartmouth VV--far, far better--was the Coldbrook Guy's Frenchy's. I told a new friend that people keep talking about The (Annapolis) Valley, but I'd never been there, so she offered to take me on a mini-road trip out there to visit what she considers the best Frenchy's in the universe.

Wow.

I had been to a couple of Frenchy's locations--there's a little one not too far from my apartment, and there is one in my parents' town--and really wasn't impressed, but I learned that Guy's Frenchy's are way, way superior to the non-Guy's variety. This particular place was huge! Frenchy's seems to be a uniquely Atlantic Canadian thing, so let me explain... no, you know what? This article describes it nicely.

For $40, I picked up:

• two (2) collared shirts/blouses
• three (3) skirts, one Banana Republic, possibly even with tags still on
• two (2) cardigans
• one (1) beaded top
• one (1) wrap-front sweater/top
• two (2) fashion tees

I also found and thought I purchased (but, sadly, it appears I was mistaken) a 100% cashmere sweater for under $4. I'd been planning to refashion it into a cozy, wear-with-everything little cardigan. I nearly cried when I got home and discovered it wasn't in my bag.

So, as if I weren't already hooked, now I have to keep going back out there, to keep looking for the one that got away.

Ouch...

...March 21st! It's been a looooooong time. I have some great, stylish-y stuff coming up, though, so watch this space.