We apologise for this break in transmission. And when I say "we", I mean "me".
In the past two weeks I have experienced three migraines, a dose of gastro, cheered the arrival of Baby Number Two for the Sister Of My Heart, watched a dear friend's marriage break up, navigated some tricky emotional terrain with My One True Love, bid a metaphorical farewell to the Amateur Actress (who has decided to move out), finished Introductory Arabic, and clutched the sides of the rocking boat that threatens to dump the whole lot in the ocean.
I have not sewn. I have not blogged. I have not slept.
Hopefullly, normal service will shortly be resumed.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I'm not really a super idea-generating crafter, you see. I get an idea, I execute it in an infinite number of ways, I get bored with it and then ..... nothing. I wait. For another idea. Which takes for-EV-er to come along, ordinarily.
I've been wondering (for some time now, poor brain) about what items I could add to my markets in 2010. Inspired by the complete lack of a yellow necklace in my jewellery drawer, I finally hit on the notion of constructing fabric necklaces - I thought: how cool would it be to actually wear some of the amazing material I work with?
And so I am proud to present my latest product range of fabric-covered necklaces. Behold the necklace tree!
Isn't that display stand great? I happened to be wandering past a shop last week thinking Hm, I really need something I can festoon with my new fabric-covered necklaces ... and lo, I looked randomly in through the window of a shop I haven't been into for months, and there was the perfect thing. I love it when the universe provides like that.
And it helps that I am totally in love with these new necklaces, too. Such an infinite variety of colour possibilities! I could make one to go with every outfit! I've made some that just loop around your neck, and others that have ribbon ties so that you can change the length of them. My heart is ablaze with excitement.
Many of the ones you see here are constructed using Anna Maria Horner's latest line of voile, Little Folks, which is the most divine fabric around right now. It's been specially treated to be oh-so-soft, and it's a delight to work with - it'll be a delight to wear, too. I long for bedsheets made out of the stuff, but then I would be afraid to sleep in them because they'd be so fine and delicate.
Necklaces though, that's a great way of putting it to use - use that you can enjoy every day. I'm taking this lot with me to the Northside Makers Market on Saturday 6 February - we'll be at the Northcote Uniting Church on High Street between 9.30 and 2.30pm. Why not come along and pick up one of these babies for your jewellery drawer - before I steal them all for myself!
Monday, February 1, 2010
I see this sign quite regularly, on the wall of a pub on the corner of Alexandra Parade and Smith Street, and it often inspires me to make up little advertising slogans and rhymes of my own. I am a nerdy loser, I know.
A few days ago it got me thinking about my favourite sewing words. I love how sewing has its own language, an admission ticket through to a whole new world, where everyone understands what you're saying. Language has always been the tool that saved me from drowning - what helps me feel part of something, like I belong - and sewing language is no exception.
In no particular order, my favourite sewing words are:
Gusset: this is kind of grandmotherly and naughty, all at once. It makes me think of giant knickers and talculm powder, of saucy g-strings, of gasping and of geese. I don't know why geese.
Jabot: that's the ruffle down the front of a shirt, isn't it great? It's French, and so much more jaunty and chipper than "ruffle". A jabot takes your shirt out for a stroll with a beret, certainly, to sip an aperitif at a sidewalk cafe somewhere. A jabot has a navy and white striped maillot, and perfectly applied liquid eyeliner, and knows how to hoist a jib and tie sailing knots. A ruffle, on the other hand, does nothing of the sort. It just sort of flutters about helplessly on the spot.
Godet. Again with the French, this is the little triangular shaped insert that sometimes goes in at the bottom of the back seam of a skirt. Godet. Godet. Waiting for Godet, to adapt a phrase. Yes, it's beautiful and I love the way it feels in my moth. I mean, mouth. Oops, typing error.
What are your favourite sewing words?