The chateau of Dačice

So, back to Dačice! Time to see the chateau!

 

This building here, accompanied by another nod to the humble, world-changing sugar cube.
I'm not being stupid, telling you it is this building. The lady at the cashdesk and our tour guide told us stories of people who did not realise this was a chateau. Dačice, as I mentioned in the previous post, are a bit out of the way, and apparently, this lovely chateau does not make it to many guides to Czech chateaus (there are so many, it's not so bad, but it's a stupid overlook with this particular one!) and many people are not aware of its existence. Many people, apparently, often assume it's a school (and since many smaller manor houses have been turned into schools, it's not that surprising). The craziest remark, though, was someone calling it "a factory".
*headscratch*

The chateau, like many aristocratic residences in this country, was rebuilt several times; the front side is very much Empire/Regency, but there's a Baroque tower on the other side (towards the park).

 

You actually enter the chateau from this side, even though it has such a lovely front.

  

 

 In the courtyard, there are these beautiful Renaissance arcades (I hope that's the correct term). This is where you enter for the tour. Photographing is not allowed inside (or maybe you have to pay a photographing fee, a usual practice in the Czech Republic). So I have no photos from the inside, which is a pity. The tour is rather short, but very interesting; it somehow feels as a house truly lived in. There's an array of styles of furniture as well, and you get to see both the lavishly decorated "official" rooms and a chamberlain's room, much smaller and much more humbly equipped. Also, it's stocked full with portraits. Portraits, and more portraits, from different periods; I really, really regretted not being able to take photos of those, because there were so many clothes to admire!

Not that I minded so much after all, though; I'll get there in another post.




The pleasant thing about the chateau in Dačice is not just the chateau itself, but also the park. It is, very obviously, a park from the time when romantic landscape-planning was popular; which makes for many spots perfect for photographing. Alas, the light was bad when we were in the park, so not so beautiful photos. But you'll get the idea.





















The other side of the courtyard, with the Baroque tower and a Pseudo-Baroque chapel from the beginning of the 20th century. 1910, to be exact.



Closing with this door handle, the image of which they now use as their logo.

Oh, and don't forget to visit the chateau's official site, where you can see lots of other (and better) photos, also of the interiors. My favourite was the library. My sister said it was the sort of library I needed, and I heartily agree. You cannot quite see it in the photo (EDIT: In the photogallery; choose "guided tour" to see it in full), but the library has another "level", with a railing - much like Professor Higgins's library in My Fair Lady.

P.S. The Czech version of the site has this very cool feature of panoramatic "photos" of various places around thew chateau.

I've sewed, too

I finished part of the blouse part of my sister's dancing costume (which, it turned out, she really wanted to be the tunic part of a salwar kameez, for increased universality, so that's what it became); but I don't have photographic evidence, which is waiting for when it's all finished. I still have to make the vest part to fulfill my birthday gift promise to her, but since she left the tunic in Brno and I cannot muslin over it now, it will happen later.

The "photographic evidence" part will be a bit impaired now, because Autumn means rain and clouds and dark comes early, and that means less photographing opportunities - it's nearly impossible to take good photographs in our house, even more so when it's cloudy and dark outside, and impossible to take photographs outside when it's raining, so the only place left is the flat in Brno.

Now, I'm remaking RTW - in the completely-rip-apart-and-sew-into-something-else sense: a 75% wool - 25% nylon skirt that I got for 10 CZK in a thrift shop and wore only once because it soon became too tight for me. Re-sewing it into a (modern-day) spencer, which does not exactly go with the spirit of the challenge; it's frosting in Marmotaland. (And of course it's grande-assietted.) But since Marmota's idea of frosting is a bit closer to someone else's idea of cake, I don't feel too ashamed about it; I'm using up stash, too. I'll probably have to piece like mad in some places to squeeze it out of the fabric I have (the main reason why it's frosting and not cake: a spencer and not a full-blown jacket). But it's still a very lucky project, which will hopefully hold until it's finished.

Lucky as in, I got wonderful mostly wool fabric for the very, very ridiculous price of 10 CZK, lining plus spare invisible zipper included, and already have the perfect buttons in my stash (and should already have violet buttonhole silk, too, though I cannot locate it right now).

Lucky as in, rather flu-dazed Marmota pieced without thinking and still managed to match the plaid.

Lucky as in, this fabric is an absolute delight to sew with, and makes me wonder what an even greater delight it would be to sew with a 100% wool fabric of a similar kind.

The beautiful and the useful

I've been a bad blogger recently, for a multitude of little reasons I will not bore you with. Suffice to say one of them was having a lengthy, annoying flu that took away much of my mojo for anything but watching sci-fi TV series. (Hello, Doctor Who! Hello, fellow Whovians!) Which threw me more into a fangirl mode than a blogging mode, obviously.


Anyway, to get back into blogging mode, I'll show you two little things that are both beautiful and useful; this inspired by a quote by William Morris Jodi posted some time ago.

"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."

I must say I would not let some of William Morris' own designs into my house (way too busy and dark), but his principle is very helpful. Even though I still struggle with living up to it.

On the top is a flour scoop. We've had this thing all my life; it disappeared for some time, I think, but was unearthed again and is in wide use. It is mostly useful: larger than a spoon, but about as narrow, perfect for scooping flour into your measures (ordinary cups in this house) or the container you use when you weigh it. So yes, I know this to be very useful. But I also believe there is some practical beauty about it; it's so balanced.

On the other hand, there is this China spoon I got on a bazaar because it was beautiful. (You know I love blue & white, don't you?) I thought it could be useful as well, though in the end it sat in the back of the drawer, not being useful and being only a little bit beautiful because it could not be seen.

Until I got an idea, and measured how much water it took, and found out it was 25 ml, a highly useful number.

It's still sitting in the back of the drawer, because there is not much "display" space in this house, but I know it to be not only beautiful, but also very useful. (Today, I used it to scoop soda.)

Some time ago, I took photos of things I like around the house that are mostly useful, but also beautiful. Like dishes. I may show you more of these one day, but I will not promise anything, because my blogging is highly random. But if, after reading this post, you will look at the everyday things in your life with new eyes and see the beauty in a tool or dish, I'll be happy to hear about it.

A circle skirt in theory. And Kolme.

Namely, my sister's kathak dancing skirt. She bought a(n off-)white saree to make it from, because she likes the white and gold of the Pakistani kathak dancing costumes (and she prefers Pakistani kathak's lyrical - and monotheistic - nature). The saree will become the skirt and a blouse to go with it (which I promised to make her as a birthday gift). Well, part of the blouse part; the skirt takes up most of the saree, and this is how I figured out how much. It's, hopefully, going to be 32 godets. SCARY. Her current, ready-made, mauve skirt is made of 42 godets. EVEN SCARIER.

 

This is what part of the blouse part (actually, a blouse and a vest-like thing to go over it) has to, somehow, be made of. I have to make a muslin and figure out where the pattern should go... So far, I think the best solution is for this to become an outer layer of the vest part.


Ooh, and look!

This little one is, for the time being, named Kolme. Kolminka... Yksi has kittens. At least two; they're very well concealed kittens. Very quiet kittens, too - we can't hear them at all! Only when Kolme (apparently) fell down from the attic, we got to cuddle with her, and listen to her little voice complaining. :-)

Aww. Look at her large, set-at-the-sides ears! And that good-for-nothing little tail! And paws! She's already using her retractable claws! (Ouch.)


She's an explorer. She ventured as far as the grass.

She and Yksi did a little, unintentional mother-daughter slapstick show after this photo was taken. We could not stop laughing. As my sister said, much better than TV! ;-)

The town of Dačice

Dačice is (are, in Czech) a town historically in Moravia, but it's near the border; also near the border with Austria. It's a bit out of hand, so going on a trip there was a special occasion; for several reasons.

I fell in love with Dačice, hard. The same way I fell hard for Tartu (which I still owe you photos of). Dačice are a world apart from lots of other places in the Czech Republic.



A fairly typical country railway station. There are two stations in Dačice; this is Dačice - město (Dačice - town). From here, you cross a river and you enter the town just some two blocks below the town square.



A bookshop I did not have the time to enter, but which I would have loved to enter (and leave with books). The old sign above says "Bookshop - records". I don't think they sell vinyl records anymore; probably no records at all. Still, they have that sign.



The town square's busy, but not in a bad way. It looks like the real centre of the life in the town. People sitting on benches and eating ice cream (later, me and my sister sat in a candy shop at this side of the square and had two ice creams each). And the shops seemed like the kind of shops a small town needs.



And they clearly take care of their flowers.



This is the old town hall, with a sundial in front of it.



And flowers.



There's a special world-changing (in a small way) event in the history of Dačice, commemorated with sculptures on several places. I'll get to that later...



A 1909 house - it's written on it, with a name, probably of the architect.



More Art Nouveau. Buildings like this one house expensive boutiques in Prague; here, it's a tea house.



Side of the tower of the St Lawrence church.



And front. The church was founded in 1183; the current building is from 1775-1788, the tower is from 1586-1592. My sister informed me that the tower is in the Mannerism style, and that there are other similar towers in the style scattered over the Czech Republic. So when you see one like this here, you'll know. (From the top of my head, I can remember the town hall in Havlíčkův Brod has the same style of tower.)




And here we come! What happened in 1843?

 

There. Choose your favourite language!



I'd place this house somewhere in the 1920s or 30s; now there's the police in it. But look, painted panel doors!



And once more, on an older house next door.

These sit just across the street from the chateau of Dačice, which was our main destination - more posts to come. Let's go see more of the town for now.





More painted panel doors! Back at the town square.



A look over the town square towards the river side of the town (east).



A single violet.



Once more, the sundial.



The old chateau (in a narrow street, thus difficult to photograph).



The brewery.



And a mysterious tower-like building that would seem to have something to do with the brewery, only it is a bit further away.



The last thing I photographed in Dačice was this apartment building, fairly unique in its own right.



This isn't unique; this is fairly typical. But the lighting was fine.
The Kostelec u Jihlavy railway station, where we changed trains; it seems to be in the middle of nowhere. Just wet meadows on one side and fields on the other.



And a jungle of tansy and raspberry bushes; and wood.

My almost favourite summer dress

This outfit's nothing special, mostly utilitarian (that sounds funny). Other than showing my new hat in action with the matching tote... The hat does not look so particularly good with the bun in some of my photos. Nor do the colours match. That's the utilitarian part. Monday was the hottest day since recording started in Czechia. (I kind of ruined my feet. And I woke up with a splitting headache the next day. Half a Paralen and about 3 liters of liquids later, I feel better, though.)

This dress is one of my few green pieces of clothing. I LOVE this *exact* shade of green. I love it on this dress. It's such a subversive pop of colour. ("Look, what a bright colour!" - "But it's only green!" - Um, does that make any sense at all?)

I also love the cut of it. Almost; I think a slightly fuller skirt (at the bottom) might be better. But: surplice bodice + tulip sleeves? And the yoke with the gathers in the back? Yum.

I love the fabric. It's a loose weave cotton with a slight crease; light and airy for summer, yet crisp enough for the style.

I do not love the unwashable dark spots on the skirt (small, so not seen on the photos, but noticable enough in real life).

I do not love the fit on me. It's too tight in the bust, which leads to two unfortunate results: a) the neckline is wobbly, b) the fit is uneven: it sits higher in the front than in the back.

Therein lie my problems. I'd love to recreate the dress, with a better fit. But I want to recreate it in the exact. same. fabric. The exact. same. colour. And where am I going to get that? I have no idea where the dress came from or how old it is. Fairly old. (The style is something like 70s meets 40s, but the notions used - plastic zipper of the tiny kind and fusible interfacing - probably place it in later times than 40s; who knows, maybe it's just early 90s.) It seems to be homesewn; but it was not sewn in this household.

I rather like the way it is empire-line in the front and sits on my waist in the back. But I do not like the way the skirt hangs in the back. The way the skirt hem is uneven on me.

Oh, and if I ever make it, I want it to be better finished inside. The interfaced waistband is not lined/underlined, and the interfacing is pretty worn-out. Eugh.

So that's it. One of those - not really RTW, but almost - pieces I want to recreate and replace (see the new blog button on the right). But I do not know how to do that and fulfill my wishes for it. This piece cannot simply be recreated for function; I also want it to be recreated for style. And vice versa. I want those two to be in harmony: the dress as it is comes near, but unfortunately not quite on me.

My almost favourite trousers

Favourite, because they're a lovely soft narrow-vale corduroy that makes them suitable both for summer, unless it's really hot, and spring and autumn. White, wide trousers make for a very classic look, I think. I snatched them on one of the clothes exchanges my cousin-once-removed used to organise*.
Almost, because they sit very low, and have an unfortunate tendency to slide even lower. Not so classic. (It defines my problem with most RTW trousers, too. Either they sit too low, or they are too wide in the waist. Eventually both.) Wearing a belt with them is quite necessary, and it only allows for longer tees and blouses.

This brown one is about the shortest that works.

 (The ladder is a bit wobbly, so I did not really sit on it.)

As is often the case with me, it's all thrifted. Including the pins in my bun: I got two of them from an elder lady friend of my mom's. And I very possibly found the remaining two pins in the street. I certainly did find the elastic that holds it together in the street. I have found most of my elastics in the street; I'm lucky like that.
This simple low bun is one of my new favourite hairstyles; very nice in summer, keeping the hair off my neck but suiting me better than higher updos. Quick to make, too.

Also: boatneck. Sheesh, I knew there was a reason why I was so stuck on it!

And one with a yellow T-shirt. I got it from my mom, who is every now and then seized by an uncanny ability to get me something that defines my stylish likes for years to come. In this case, somehow tapping into my increasing love for this shade of yellow.

When Oona sent me the cheerful fabric bangles, I didn't realise they went with my yellow T-shirt, too.

This time, it's Yksi. Cats make good photographing accessories. They don't care much for being fashion accessories, though. Good for them!

The flower pin (or, rather, the flower itself) is made after Disney's tutorial, only mine is yes-sew. Phew, no-sew is more difficult than yes-sew, isn't it? You need some fancy glue for it! I didn't bother fray-checking it, either; it's just a quick whip-up flower made of a scrap of fabric.


* It used to be a fun community, almost family-like event where you could get rid of your old clothes, get new ones and help out some charity project by the way. Now it's more of helping out a charity project with a fancy event, and getting rid of your old clothes by the way. I don't go there anymore, and my cousin does not organise it anymore. It's a sad thing. I got some of my best clothes there, and got rid of some I never wore. I can still take the latter to charity, but I don't get to meet my cousin in the process.