Local fabric shops carried green satin and fake magnolias. The only problem that arose was in finding wire to make the hoopskirt stand out. I had the overly optimistic (and painfully naïve) impression that corset boning, the hard strips sewn into corsets, would work. After purchasing 42 feet of it, I went home to experiment. "Several hours of bending, stretching and occasionally hitting myself in the face with this boning ended with the exasperating realization that it simply was not going to hold its shape. Nothing else at the fabric shop was going to work either. This project would require something stronger, something firmer, something on the industrial level. So I loaded this crooked attempt at a petticoat in the car and drove off, in hopes of finding some miracle cure for my hoop-less hoop skirt.

Wandering around Home Depot with the ruffled petticoat over my right shoulder, I scanned the shelves for anything that looked like a possibility. Finally, after canvassing the entire store at least once, help arrived in the form of a store employee, shooting confused glances at the pile of fabric hanging off of my arm. Several minutes of puzzled questions and answers later, two more store employees ventured over to offer their help, followed quickly by an additional two. All five of these men stared at the mangled petticoat in utter bewilderment. Finally, throwing aside all dignity out of desperation, I stepped into the petticoat and held it out in a circle, to demonstrate how it was supposed to look. A communal “Oh!” circulated, and they went off in search of the ideal solution.

We collectively analyzed the results: rubber tubing was too wide to fit into the seams I had sewn, and electrical wiring was too flexible to hold its shape. And then it happened: one of the men had an epiphany. He jogged around the corner and returned in triumph, holding in his hands a 50 foot coil of copper refrigeration tubing. It was heavy, but strong enough to hold its shape, so I took it.

That evening, a friend helped to wrangle the tubing into submission, and we worked it into the petticoat seams. Final touches were added to the dress (one can never have too many magnolia blossoms on one’s sleeves), and we declared victory.

The St. Patrick’s Day parade route was very crowded, and my refrigeration tubing got a little bent out of shape from people pressing too closely or running into me. I also got hung up on three baby strollers. The tubing made the petticoat very heavy, and after several hours, the drawstring waist had dug into my skin. My friend offered her valuable assistance in putting the hoops on after getting out of the car. It amazes me that the women of that period had to have so much clearance just to walk down the sidewalk. Although a traditional hoop skirt wire would have worked much better, the copper tubing made for an entertaining story. Those Home Depot employees also probably got a good laugh out of the whole situation. But the dress was a success – many people took pictures with me, especially international tourists, and I turned and waved with pleasure every time someone yelled out “Scarlett!” Maybe next time, to combat the heat and humidity, I’ll put coolant in the tubing!