Unexpected Choices...

...are always interesting, and usually the best.  I'm mid relapse, and whilst  lying in bed, was leafing through an art book... and had an idea.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a book about Sean Scully, and the idea was to do with this particular structure.  Yes, it needs to be ironed... sigh. 

The colours in this aren't all that accurate, but you get the drift...  Left to right, there's a section of rust dyed lutradur, one of tea and onion skin dyed cotton, and rust dyed muslin.  Two of the three are semi transparent, and that proved to be quite important. 

I'm not that keen on this, mostly, I suspect, because I hate white, and rarely use it in anything at all, textile or painting, other than to mix in with other paints.  I love colour...and apparently have a problem with the absence of colour.  The original idea I had, was to add some colour, a square, thereof, in the lower right section, which is quite different to the original idea, to stitch with the thread you see there, browns and blues, following the curves in the rust dyed sections, and across the white.  When I went into the studio to select the fabric, though, I spotted the box with the lace. 

I don't use lace, much, but I have some for hats.  Somehow, though, it seemed like a good idea to use something lacy on top of these semi transparent fabrics, following through on that idea.  When I opened the box, I spotted a doily.  Now, I don't like doilies.  I had a brief moment when I thought I'd use them in work, as is the fashion...but it has never really seemed like my kind of thing.  I really don't like this whole, take something, or better still, lots of things vintage and slap it/them onto a background and call it art, trend that has been hanging around for at least a decade, if not more.  Circles, though.... I liked the idea of circles.  So I fished around in the box some more.  And then I had a rest (as you do...well, as I do, these days). 

And this is what I'm going with.

   
Three doilies, all featuring lace and/or cutwork.  The one on the right is positioned on a circle of lutradur, to echo the lutradur element of  the base fabric.  And I've fished out some very pale threads to stitch them down with.  That, though, is for another day : I've overdone it.  But it has been worth it, I think... much better than sitting gazing at a computer screen. 

An Unexpected Gift.

The aftermath of a house move is...empty cardboard boxes.  What felt like hundreds of them; I swear they were breeding in the garage...  The original plan was to return them to the removal company and reclaim our deposit, but they went bust, taking our deposit with them (entirely against the law, of course, but not a lot to do about it).  So... landfill?  Seemed like a waste.  So we offered them locally, and gave them to a very nice lady.  Turns out that she owns a second hand shop, the second hand shop that never seemed to be open, but had an incredibly beautiful hat in the window.  Every time we passed it, I commented on the hat.  Robin happened to mention it to the nice lady as he helped her to unload the boxes at her shop.  Reader, she gave it to me....and isn't it beautiful?

Apparently it's an Australian hat, bought in Melbourne.  Vintage, around the 1970s; I must admit, I have difficulty applying the term vintage to something that was made in my lifetime.  Intensely bridal; if not the bride herself, then surely the mother of the bride.  It's satin, with lovely flowers around the brim.  It still has its original label and the swing ticket from the shop, so clearly never worn, and really expensive for the time.  The crown is a little dented, but hey, if I'd come from Melbourne in a container lorry, I would be dented too.  I think it's buckram underneath that satin.  It is absolutely gorgeous. 

I'm a very lucky person....and now wondering about a vintage hat collection... shhh, don't tell Robin... And must get back to millinery.

Living Vintage...

...that's me, apparently.  I went to a vintage fair today with a couple of friends.  Held in a large church hall, it looked for all the world like the worlds' most expensive jumble sale.  There was the occasional gem...like a Frank Usher top, far too small for me but incredibly beautiful; if Robin had a Proper Job, I would have bought it...would love to collect beautiful clothes... sigh.  Mostly, though, it was stuff that was masquerading as vintage like a Primark top which could only have been a year or two old.  It does, however, make you realise that you are getting older... particularly when you recognise the clothes you used to wear, never mind those of your mother or your grandmother.  Etsy defines vintage as anything older than 20 years, which covers a multitude of sins. 

Vintage is really fashionable; everybody does it.  I find myself looking to earlier times for inspiration for Myrtle and Rose, things that are gentle, feminine, flattering, flowing.  I'm still not convinced by the vogue for using vintage imagery in art, though.  It has become ubiquitous, a whole Somerset Studio type style, using rubber stamps and copyright free imagery.  It started, I think, at least in part, because people were worried about copyright issues, and felt it was much better to take images from the past, that were out of copyright, rather than risk being pursued for breach of copyright from living artists.  It's a pity, I think, that people use this type of image instead of being inspired by their own work.  I think it shows a vast lack of confidence in our own abilities.

I guess I'm musing about this because I'm doing something I said I never would (yes, again...); using vintage inspirations.  But they are exactly that.  I'm not copying vintage clothes or hats or bags, just looking back at a gentler, less complicated time and making work that is mine, but with a different feel to it.  Not sure if I'm making any sense, here, but I dare say that's not unusual.  I'm happy to use vintage fabrics when I can find them; they dye better than contemporary fabrics, and are often of better quality.  In addition, they have a feeling of story behind them.  Interesting to repurpose them, to give them the amount of usage they were made for, albeit in a different way to what was originally intended. 

If I ever work out what my relationship to/with vintage is, I'll let you know.  Meanwhile, I'd love to hear what you think about this phenomenon... will it run and run?  I chatted to one of the stall holders, a woman around my own age (most of the stall holders were in their twenties, interestingly enough, which perhaps explains why so much of what was on offer did not seem to be vintage at all...).  She said that it is becoming increasingly difficult to find vintage clothing and jewellery, and it is becoming increasingly expensive, because it has become so fashionable.  But, she said, it won't go on for ever.  When it stops, prices will drop and things will flood back onto the market.    I'm tempted to think that it is one fashion that won't go away; the market for nostalgia is unlimited.  What do you think?

The Happy Shop

sounds like a fairy story, but really, it should be the name of The Wishing Tree, my friend Olivia's shop in Long Stratton.  I went there for the first time, yesterday, had a cup of coffee and showed Olivia some of my work.  And I'm happy to say she liked it enough to keep some of it to show in the shop, so I'm a happy woman!   That's her in the picture, in one of the comfy chairs, surrounded by some of her stock.

So why the title?  Well, if shops had several names, like cats, then the happy shop would be ideal for The Wishing Tree.  It is awash with colour and texture, from the wooden fair trade zebras and giraffes, through the silly signs, to the lovely jewellery and unusual cards.  Look for yourself; they have an on line service (just click on the link in the previous paragraph).  I particularly liked a lovely, happy Buddha in the spirit section, and some of the wonderful wall art.  And did I mention the cute soft toys?   But yes, I have to admit that in particular, I loved the coffee shop.  No, I didn't try the cake, but it did look amazing... the coffee was great, and the comfy seats really comfy.  It struck me as the kind of place you could go and write, or knit, on your own, and know that nobody would bother you (that's important to the depressives among us...).  The staff were friendly and warm, and said that the cozy (their word) atmosphere of the place was really important to them.  The cake is home made, and one of the staff is an artist in her own right, making much of the jewellery the shop sells.  And for the Celts among us...the crack was good.

You could argue that I'm biased.  Well, yes...a bit.  But it was really a pleasure to go and talk to knowledgeable, friendly people about my own passions, art and cake! And I was genuinely bowled over by the shop.   I had a really lovely time, and I hope I'll be supplying the Wishing Tree with my own brand of art for a long time to come....  The photo, by the way, is of Olivia herself, in one of those comfy chairs, looking far too thin for a woman who owns a coffee shop... sigh...  So if you do go in, and if you're in Norfolk, you really should...tell them I sent you!  I'm going back sooner rather than later, because they have just opened a new vintage section in the shop, and I didn't get to see what they were putting in there... but whatever it is, it'll be good.  I suspect the fabulous clock you can see above Olivia's head will be in there, it's definitely vintage inspired, and if I had a room large enough, I would have bought it on the spot.  And yes, Gemma, if you're reading, you can come too...we'll call it a field trip!

Yes, It's True...

I really will dye anything. I've been dyeing vintage cloth for a while now, I love the way it feels, soft with use, usually much better quality than anything you can buy today. This particular piece is a napkin, which I did some very basic batik on, forgot about, overdyed and ironed out... I'm really very pleased with the way it turned out.

The problem, of course, is that I bought it to cut up, and I can't bring myself to do so. Repurposing may be all the rage, but I find it difficult to sidestep the original context that a textile piece has. Mind you, I have managed to cut up tablecloths for pieces, so perhaps all I need to do is wait. Or let someone else do it!