Bogey the Gatorpunk

I got tired of following the patterns of other people. Ok, I guess I only really followed two softy patterns. Both, actually, were by Teresa Levy. I did her tooth from Laskey’s Softies book as well as a free pattern of a mouse that I found online (you can see the mouse in the background of one of the pictures below). Neither came out to my liking. That is to say, they did not come out as cute or cuter than Levy’s softies.;)
So, I decided to make my own softy pattern. I have been drooling over the creations on Softies Central. In particular, I was very inspired by Maritza Soto’s designs. I owe more than a little to her for the design of Bogey’s eyes and button joints. But I didn’t copy them exactly. I hope. You let me know if I crossed the line. I felt compelled for some reason to design and make my own stuffy pattern (or softy, softie, whatever you want to call them). I’ve always thought “gatorpunk” would be an excellent name for a toy alligator. It has local color as an icon of the region. It is also reminiscent of the much-maligned French Quarter characters, the gutterpunks. Gators already have built in mohawks, so you can see the connection (if you consider only their idealized cartoon morphology). So: I present to you Bogey.
Bogey is made from remnants, fabric quarters, felt, floss, buttons, batting, and a drop or two of my blood (the blood is hidden behind the button joints–never try to pull a needle through a body cavity with your teeth). While putting him together, I listened to an audiobook, Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore, which is so fantastic I am going to get the paper book and consume it with my eyeballs. Murakami is awesome. Read him.
In later versions, I might want to lengthen the tail so he can stand on his own. During the construction, I had to add darts to the side head pieces, the side body pieces, and to the outside arm tops. I was running out of the fabric I was sewing these pieces onto, so I abbreviated them with darts. The darts turned out nicely. Bogey now has a slope to his shoulders and a nicer head shape. The original design of the arms and legs was also different. They originally ended in flat triangles. But I decided to extend them. Other than those two changes, I pretty much executed it according to design. I think the end result is pretty faithful to the initial sketch, minus some claws. What do you think? Any tips or advice?
I learned a lot more about toy construction by following my own design. I learned why a dart goes here or there and sometimes they’re nice. I understand how stuffing the creatures changes the design a lot. Embellishment is just as important as architecture. The experimental air of the whole construction process was a lot more enjoyable than following another person’s pattern. Not that I’m ruling out following others’ patterns. I bought some Wee Wonderfuls toy patterns when I was at the Austin Maker Faire (pictures and post to follow later) and plan to give those a try.
While making Bogey, I asked myself, “Why the hell am I doing this? Why am I making stuffed animals that are annoyingly cute?” I could be using this time to write or read or learn Mandarin or complete my Spanish language skills. I could be looking for a job too, I added. Hell, I could be volunteering at some place and actually contributing to society. I almost quit what I was doing right then and there, but decided I ought to at least finish it. How do I balance the perhaps selfish desire to make these things with my guilt over not doing things that might be more worthwhile? If there any craftsters or hobbyists or artists out there reading this, how do you answer this question? There are a lot of worse things I could be doing, of course.
Now that it’s done, I still have no answer. I just felt and feel compelled to make them. I think it might be all about process. It’s definitely about a sense of acomplishment. I like learning how to do things and making them. I also like diving into the making of something and learning as I go. I don’t know. I define myself as a Maker, partly. So, if I was to ignore my desire to make things, I would be denying a part of my identity. So, I need to be able to do, to make, for my own sanity. Right? I don’t know. I have the luxury to have time and tools to make these things and the luxury to waste space feeling guilty about it. Anyway. *Shrugs* Forgive me my half-assed ramblings into “artistic” motivation and worthwhile actions. Forget all I just said and take a gander at Bogey, Gatorpunk 1.0:
CONSTRUCTION PROCESS:
By the way, in addition to the books mentioned in previous Stuffer posts, I also studied How to Make and Design Stuffed Toys by Rudi de Sarigny, which is a book I checked out of my local public library.
COMPLETED STUFFY:



August 5th, 2008 at 11:21 pm
Guilty is non-compatible with Creation, my dear, so please, please, please, Make away without further distress.
Jacob loves his dino, and his toothy.
All visitors to my house love them too.
On a tip I heard you could sell these suckers for $40 a pop at any uptown chicbabystore.
I’d spend my money on you anyday deario.