Always be a unicorn…

Crafternoons at The Gardens are in full swing. Gadora has been itching to play, and a recent score at Goodwill yielded the perfect mini project. My Hustlers have been toying with unicorns. Originally designed as a team who paid tribute to the female sports stars of the seventies (think Farrah Fawcett in her heyday), we’ve been working on overhauling our uniforms for 2013. It is a new year, and we are ready! We often giggle about the ridiculousness of the single-horned mythical creature. After all, a few of the Hustlers were reared in the seventies, and all recall fantasizing we’d one day have a unicorn of our very own.

Well, now I do.

Unicorn - before.
Unicorn – before.

Gadora was supposed to bring a used gift to the Hustler holiday party. We’d just named 5 women to the team, and Scrape was poised to wow them with my White Unicorn gift. But… I like the finished product so much I’ve decided to keep it through the holidays. She was hornless when I spotted her. A sad little unicorn on a dirty shelf sat near three wicker baskets, a gnarly spatula and a terrible mason jar sand sculpture even a parent couldn’t love. A marble for a horn, I contemplated if the $2.99 was way too much.

Unicorn ~ close up.

Gadora had visions of grandeur. The marble would have to go. At first I thought I’d repurpose a tiny cake decorating frosting tip, but the thrift store didn’t have that in store. Never mind. I used my hair dryer and pumped some heat on the marble, tapping it lightly with my hairbrush as it heated. A minute later it freed… and my unicorn was ready for the next treatment.

Unicorn ~ with painters tape.
Unicorn ~ with painters tape.

Painters tape is a unicorn-makers best friend. Gadora painstakingly placed teeny pieces around all the bits I didn’t want sprayed.

The bits...
The bits…

Unicorn covered, I took my project outside and sprayed her down.

Unicorn ~ sprayed.
Unicorn ~ sprayed.

All the pastel bits covered, I wasn’t fully satisfied. So I broke out the glitter paint.


And the baby blue nail polish… only thing left was to appoint a horn. I sat with her for a minute. Then remembered I had a smallish box of holiday ornaments. I dug out an icicle and the tacky super goopy glue. And voila!

Unicorn ~ with horn.

Another shot.

Unicorn ~ revisited.
Unicorn ~ revisited.

Gadora was so proud of her transformation, I walked her right outside to the neighbor. We giggled on our stoop at the ridiculousness of it all. She confided, “funny you brought her over. I have something I want you to hang.” Who me? I followed her upstairs, and there it was…

Always be a unicorn.
Always be a unicorn.

I thank the Universe for the opportunity to revive a crappy tschotske and for a lovely afternoon.


2012 NoLa Rollerbulls. It’s happening!

Derby is one of the many joys of my life. It’s an inexplicable, and dangerous, love I discovered late in life. I give and give, not as Gadora Wilder but as my other alter Scrape Myrtle, each week in hours of practice that exponentially give back—on and off of the track. It has afforded me a circle of women who make me laugh, constantly challenge and support me… and at 41 has given me an ass I’m finally quite proud of. My derby loves have trekked to New Orleans for years—without me—to partake in a wacky weekend whereby they skate the streets of The Big Easy as red “bulls” whacking willing runners along the 1+ mile route.

This year I. Am. In. There’s been countless chats for where we’ll stay. What we’ll eat. What we’ll wear. The organizers encourage us to have a blast and whack the runners with “the love for a brother we hate at the moment.” We are not to maim them, just toss them around a bit. We are promised the 15,000 of them will LOVE it. Always at the ready for a crafternoon, the gals and I gathered at my place to pimp our wiffle bats, helmets and horns. We hadn’t planned for our logo but wanted to represent Texas. So Scrape put on her Gadora hat and traced and cut a Rollergirl logo into a Shrinky Dink sheet. We used the reverse as our template.

Shrinky Dink Rollergirl template.

As a Texas Rollergirl hometeam representative, I now incorporate purple into anything I can. So, my shiny new helmet got a spray of Hustler purple.

Hustler purple Rollergirl

Huddled around my courtyard’s table, affectionately referred to as The Goose, we derby gals each sprayed our helmets and bats and gear. Here’s mine, quietly drying underneath the reflection of my canopy of trees. Pretty, me thinks.

Hustler helmet with tree reflection

MariEasy Livin’ (we’ve dubbed MariEZ… or maybe she did herself), Hydra (a Derby hall-of-famer of sorts) and I each took turns spraying all 8 participating bulls’ gear. In the Texas summer, drying time was a breeze. We carefully peeled and re-stuck the sticky tape on the underbelly of the Shrinky Dink template, then sprayed.

Drying time: wiffle bats and helmets.

I got a little crafty with my bat graphic. Yes, YOU, I fully intend to smack you with the wrath of my bat. I might even leave a lil mark. Then I’ll skate right past you to the next eager fool. MariEZ recommends we reinforce our bats at their base with duct tape… so as to prolong their life. What kind of hurt did SHE administer last year?

“You’ve been SMACKED by Scrape Myrtle!”

The horns. Oh my fellow derby dears—there will be some 400 of us skating—have created some magnificent specimens. Our gaggle of gals are going for practicality. Nothing will get between us and our ass-kicking. We procured some devil horns and re-appropriated them as bull horns, but not without a bit of bedazzling. They’re kind of perfect in that they’re easy to slip over our helmets, and will allow the maneuverability any self-respecting derby enthusiast craves.

Our bedazzled horn bouquet.

• • •

¡Bienvenidos a! San Fermin in Nueva Orleans (SFNO) is an annual festival in New Orleans featuring an Encierro (bull run), which replicates and pays homage to the world famous Encierro of Pamplona, Spain, or “The Running of the Bulls”, only our bulls are none other than members of the Big Easy Rollergirls and select participants from other rollerderby leagues across the country! I. Cannot. Wait.

Simply put.