After buying several yards of fabric one night after work, I sat at my dining room table overwhelmed with the lengthy and complicated project ahead. There was the dress. Then the hair. Then the makeup. I began watching online tutorials about Marie Antoinette hair, makeup, costume ideas. Hair and makeup I could handle, but I called my mom for backup on the dress. Soon the two of us began our very own sweatshop of pink and gold baroque fabric, lace, feathers, pearls and tooling. Once we finalized the corset, we had an idea of what direction the dress was going in. The theme became pink, gold, cream and black - all the colors a French Queen would love. So now the costume is complete!
I plan to unveil it in New Orleans - the perfect location for a French Queen. Make sure to check back after Halloween for more on the final reveal, including photos of the complete costume - hair, makeup, and of course, the dress! French royalty is back, NOLA.
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Madrone tree at Puerto del Sol. We escaped Hamburg's clouds and rain in late September and fled into the humid sun drenched city of Madrid, Spain. When my plane landed for a layover in Barcelona, I knew the country would be different from its German counterpart. The airport had a wooden deck -- right between the tarmacs. On the deck, travelers soaked in the rays on their backs, puffing cigarettes. I immediately joined in. Hey! It's Europe. I searched my purse for my pack of Parliament longs (the blue pack) and struck a match, igniting the butt. "Awe. This is the life." Our layover was short. Soon we were in Madrid, where we rented a small studio apartment near the red line's Quevedo subway stop. The quaint apartment had most of the amenities we needed - minus an oven, microwave, toaster, real coffee maker and American-size furniture. Our balcony overlooked orange budded trees and a dog grooming shop. Biggles was thousands of miles away -- but his barking was always with us thanks to our neighbor's customers. Snapshots from St. Pauli. By Maricella Miranda I came to Germany on a whim. When I left Minnesota in August, I knew almost nothing about the country's language, geography or landmarks. I figured I'd learn whatever I needed once I arrived in Deutschland. I can count the German words I've learned on one hand. Don't laugh! German is hard! Very hard! I've been living in Hamburg, the second-largest city in the country, for a month and three days (I've been counting). There are somethings I love about the country, and somethings I could live without. Overall, the trip was worth its growing pains. Here's what fascinated and confused me... By Maricella Miranda Turning 30 is not easy. It doesn’t matter what country you’re in. I knew turning 30 – away from my family, friends and Biggle – was too heartbreaking to prepare for. I had to face it once the day happened. I celebrated my birthday in Berlin. For the most part, it was an awesome party filled with lots and lots of vodka gimlets, champagne, a trendy Berlin apartment, and a Russian dinner. But traveling is stressful. Traveling with another person is stressful. Traveling in a country where you don’t speak the language, with another person, who doesn't speak the language either – is very stressful. By Maricella Miranda Whenever I visit new places, one of my favorite attractions is the city zoo. I convinced Charlie to come with me Sunday to the TierPark Hagenbeck zoo in Hamburg, just a subway stop north from our apartment. The entry cost was $20 Euros each, comparable to other zoos. Sundays are typically the busiest days for families at the zoo. A Sunday in Germany is no different. Herds of families rushed to the attraction by mid-afternoon. I read on the website that you can bring your own food to feed the animals. Bring food? I didn't really believe it until I saw people in line with bags of ripe bananas and apples. Once inside, the zoo staff were selling more bags of fruit. I was too timid to ask, "Hey, how much is the old fruit you got there?" Outside the theater and cafe. By Maricella Miranda We are truly lost in translation in Germany. No matter how hard I try to learn simple phrases like please and excuse me, I still manage to mess up the pronunciation. Pronunciation is key. The Germans try to use English for us. They’re as accommodating as they can be for someone who just arrived in their country on a whim with no understanding of their cherished home language. I can understand their annoyance. I mean, what would we do to people in America if they didn’t know English? Would we help them navigate through a grocery store? Would we show them where the bacon was? Would we explain why they can’t put wine bottles in a recycling machine, but they can put beer bottles in it? (Maybe we would do that. It could break the machine for Pete’s sake!) Charlie and I need a lot of help when walking around Germany for very simple things. Most of the time we feel vulnerable, helpless, lost. But something always brightens the day. By Maricella Miranda We rented a flat in Eimsbüttel, a district of Hamburg. It's a very cute one bedroom with a balcony full of plants and herbs. Of course, the bathroom only fits a small child -- but the water is hot -- which is what's most important. And it's clean! Except for a squirmy brown bug that we found in our cheese in the refrigerator -- cheese that was wrapped in plastic wrap -- except for that. Oh, and the hairs we keep finding in our dishes, except for those two mishaps, it's clean. The flat (as we affectionately call our apartment) has a washing machine too. The machine is a fancy front-loader. With all its buttons, it looks like it could be a dryer too. Charlie and I were certain that it has a dryer because of its long, complicated, German descriptions. We arrived at Reykjavik at 6 a.m. I've never been to Iceland before. Our first destination, the airport lunchroom. Luckily, Icelandic breakfast isn't different from American breakfast. Hard-boiled eggs, fried ham (looks like bacon), cheese, bread, coffee, hash browns and O.J. I grabbed everything I could see for $1,800 Icelandic Krona ($15 U.S. dollars). I felt famished after the six-hour flight. "American..." Charlie said when I threw away half my breakfast. I felt a little guilty, but satisfied that I didn't have to eat for a few hours. I leave for Hamburg, Germany in a little more than 24 hours. The whole trip seems unreal. My worries? Leaving my dog, Mr. Big, aka "Biggles" (who I'm sure you'll read tons about in this blog), and of course, leaving the ones I love. Yesterday, I visited Hamline University where I'm studying creative writing. I ran into the dean of the program and a couple classmates of mine. They were very excited about my trip. Their support really helped me feel certain that I'm making the right decision leaving Minnesota for Europe. The dean, Mary Rockcastle, told me that she studied abroad as an undergrad student and the experience changed her forever. I told my friend later over drinks what Mary had said. My friend asked me, "Changed her how?" I told her I didn't know. |
AuthorMaricella Miranda is traveling in Europe for the coming months. This blog gives a glimpse into the ups and downs of her trip. Archives
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