Dyepot, Teapot

I got a new job a month or two ago. Bigger paycheck, actual dress code, sudden desire to buy work clothes that look halfway decent. This has led to reading so many fashion magazines I am now well qualified to create outfits demonstrating all five major women’s fashion themes for fall (neatly enumerated in Lucky, but well-defined everywhere). Which also led, sometime yesterday, to me starting to think it could be really interesting to create a local fashion blog or zine or something.

Today, five minutes on Google reminds me that 1) I hate the Portland hipster crud that constitutes the majority of the output of local designers, 2) I can sew better clothes than most of these people in my sleep, and 3) almost nothing comes in my size anyhow, so the whole thing’s pretty irrelevant.

I remember an article in the thankfully now defunct Oregonian weekly style magazine about a new line of locally designed jeans. The designer made a point of saying she wanted her clothes to embrace women’s curves. The size range only ran up to 14. So, uh, the curvier half of the population doesn’t exist? Who are you designing for?

It’s just idiotic. Big international clothing lines are often not much better on item 3, but at least the quality of design and construction is enormously better. And there are far fewer items decorated by the ’solid color silhouette of something on a 70s color theme solid contrasting background’ method. Which wasn’t too bad until I noticed it was absolutely everywhere and started to convulse from the overdose. But it’s not just hipster stuff I feel that way about, I have a similar reaction to pretty much anything from Forever 21.

I have a problem to resolve. I have a limited budget. The clothes I like best cost more than I can afford and come in limited size ranges, though with pricey stuff they do this vanity sizing thing that makes it far more likely I actually can wear a 14. I don’t have time to sew a whole new wardrobe and I’ve become such a perfectionist over the finishing details that it’s not a low-stress activity. There’s got to be somewhere I can find a couple of blouses and a jacket that are stylish and not Land’s End generic. Right?

I entered the baking contest at the Portland Farmer’s Market Summer Loaf Festival today. I feel like I completely wasted my time in entering. Not because I lost (I am a good baker, but I can understand if someone else created a loaf with better texture or more interesting flavor, as partial as I am to my own product), but because I think amateur competitions should not favor those who can get their hands on professional-grade equipment.

The thing to understand about those beautiful crusty artisan loaves that have become so popular is that they require a special oven. Ideally, a professional steam-injection oven. You can fake it with special baking inserts or clay stones, pans of water or sprayers, but I’ve never gotten the steam trick to work right in my ordinary home oven, so I don’t bother. I like the middle of the loaf better anyhow.

When I got a look at the other entries post-judging, I knew I didn’t have a chance, because there was a row of these steam-baked artisan loaves on the table. It really angers me that in an amateur competition, one that explicitly bars anyone who has worked as a baker or chef, I’m competing against a product that requires special, expensive equipment. There’s more to bread than European hearth baked artisan styles, right? Shouldn’t an amateur competition encourage a certain level of accessibility, reward people for working within the confines of an ordinary home kitchen? I’m not saying it needs to be dumbed down, but I wish I’d seen more things that looked like they really could be made at home, not just in the kitchens of those who can afford the pro equipment.

I admit, I’m a little sad I didn’t win anything just in general. I like my bread. Everyone who tries it gobbles it down. It would’ve been nice to have some food critic or professional baker say, “Hey, I like her bread too. Nice balance of flavors between the rosemary, olive oil, and salt. This soft texture is great.” Maybe it’s too amateur for their tastes, though.