I can’t help think that sometimes – let’s say often – the red carpet misses a trick; the urge to conform to stereotypical beauty too strong, the risk of stepping outside of prescribed boxes too big. And then, when those sitting at the top of the social triangle are fearful, the emotion gets passed down and what should actually be celebrated, gets missed. I will never be an Oscar winning actress, but I hope that if I was, I would wear one of Rasa Vilcinskaite’s incredible creations with pride and honour and quite frankly, wow the world.
It’s been a while coming, but I’ve finally hit the time when I am (virtually) redundant from hand to hand trench child care. Quite a revelation. Suddenly free time is mine again – like really mine. And weekends seem to be the place where the change is most obvious – one day is spent going for long cycle rides (to keep up with husband, a self-confessed mamil, I have an electric bike – like shut the door fabulous) and the other? Well, inspired by Sewing Bee – I’m sewing. This is the pattern I’m currently working on. In this print:
Because it was cheap to make mistakes on and the print made me smile. But if it works, I’m upgrading to this:
Bright canary yellow! And the main print is like 83 cm large! Watch this space…
My new porn is searching for future patterns and ideas – which leads me to what was going to be the main thrust of this post – Folkwear patterns – based in the US, but a treasure trove of historical and international patterns from a Hungarian Szur worn by Magyar herdsman as far back as the middle ages to a ladies chemise from the mid to late 1800s.
Natural or not is the big question. Along with fad versus longevity. Both comments a reflection on a turn in the tide, a smell in the air heralding a new desire strong colour. The clash, the crash, the sheer excitement of the wrong made right – except, bright colours are natural and have already stood the test of time as the animal kingdom proves. What’s fascinating for me is when life is often at it’s bleakest – I’m writing this questioning how the whole infrastructure of the UK seems to be crumbling with panic buying, shortages and empty shelves (and all the time asking myself, how many years has this current government been in power?) fashion responds by becoming it’s brightest…
I remember one autumn writing about unconformity and the pull of the unexpected when symmetry is taken away. Maybe that explains the appeal of zellige tiles? – the subtle variations of each tile, the changes of light playing across the glaze, the feeling of something artisan and handmade. Their origin is Moroccan, crafted from the clay found in the city of Fez. First formed in a mould, craftsmen use a shaping block and hammer to smooth and shape the tiles; an imperfect, perfect art. The second appeal is their infinite variety of colours and shapes, from pale, misty sea-kissed aquas to freshly just churned creams and barely there pinks to dark stormy greys and forrest greens, from skinny rectangles to chunky squares, hexagons or stars. The variations are endless.
What a treat the Sunday Times Home supplement had this week – and whole article on this amazing story – Club Jupiter – the tale of three talented friends pulling together to create something special over lockdown that will change the way you think of static caravans forever. So much of this spoke to my heart – taking something forgotten and breathing new life, stripping away the plastic and replacing it with everything natural and considered, three women with a special bond, three women with fantastic eyes for colour and pattern; it’s a dream made in heaven – or rather Margate, because this little beauty is now up for renting – so not only brilliant but financially brilliant as well – I doff my feathered cap you incredible girls.
An Architectural Digest tour of Cara Dellvingne’s L.A. home (as supposed to the one she shared with her sister, Poppy) In fact, this is about Cara living her best life and embracing her eccentric spirit. For me, it’s the first time I’ve seen the true extremes of money: we have bedrooms, dining rooms, sitting rooms? She has a velvet pussy palace and a vagina tunnel! Honestly watch – you’ll only smile!
So this post was going to be a homage to my Best Buy of the summer – a black, trench length pac a Mac from Muji that has been worth every penny of the £9.95 I paid for it, particularly given the strange weather we’re back to in London – rain, rain and more rain. But there are no pictures or mentions on Muji’s website, so you’ll have to take it from me – I’m having to buy another one because everyone in the house keeps nicking it; small, lightweight and does exactly what it says on the tin. Ding dong.
And now, a selection of pictures that sit on the more unusual spectrum of life, because if you can’t have basics, then reach for the stars…
So Boris Johnson is about to extend the 21 June deadline for the UK final lifting of lockdown. Who didn’t predict that? But before he does it, he has to leak his intentions in the press just to make sure he’s made the right choice; such strength, always wanting to give what he thinks everyone wants. Except that only works if your name is Father Christmas; centuries of culture, stories, parables, legends, myths, history, religion and Disney, highlighting the problems of temptation and taking the path of least resistance. And then we have Boris.
Once this does lift, I will be one person hoping the life will not be going back to normal. My wish is that the hot air will be taken out of rampant consumerism the government is so banking on, that stuff will not equals feelings, no matter how often we’re sold that it does. My hope is that things will be valued for what they are, not what they’re seen to be, and that beauty, in all its forms, is no longer limited to the age when we can be groomed into buying products for a dream we’re told will come true, if only we buy the products. Time to break the circle, because there’s only once place it leads – to people like Boris ruining, sorry, running, the country.
So different from last year when the season changed at the flick of a switch. This year, the weather also seems to have been infected by all things associated with the pandemic. In London it’s cold, like turn the heating back on, winter socks and thermal undies cold. Outside the green is appearing – but it’s being battered by high winds and driving rain; my garden hasn’t had it’s summer make over yet, there’s been no incentive. I’m thinking maybe an offering to forgotten earth spirits is required – it’s what these green chandeliers make me think of, there’s a joy in their simplicity and a celebration in their construction. Who couldn’t fail to be impressed?