Saving Marilyn

I had a show last Saturday.  It was a beautiful day; there were tons of people on the street; very little money changed hands other than at the face-painting table.

Normally I try not to shop while I'm working.  I certainly don't let myself buy anything before I've made enough money to cover my table fee.

But sometimes, fabric intervenes.

The vendor at the next table was selling clothing -- both her own work and boxes of used clothes in front of her table.  All the used items were priced at $3 each.  When she first put the boxes out, I saw fabric with faces on it -- a weakness of mine -- and I tried to ignore it.

After a few customers had pawed through the boxes, the fabric was nearer the top, and I could see that the face was Marilyn Monroe.

I gave up trying to ignore Marilyn, and went to see what the fabric was.  Turns out it was a pair of stretch jeans, size 2 petite, in excellent but tiny condition.  I told the vendor if no one purchased them by the end of the day, they were mine.

Then, as I sat there watching the crowds go by, making to-do lists for the workroom and the garden, I realized I was drawing bag designs incorporating the Marilyn fabric.  Really?

Really.  I had to buy them.  Anyone who is a size 2 petite doesn't need Marilyn Monroe jeans to make even more adorable.  I'm sorry if that's sizeist, but there you have it.  I made the world safe from Marilyn jeans, and tonight I took scissors to them.

Watch this space.

Vintage Quilt Love

I've always had an affinity for quilts, just not necessarily for quilting.

Old quilts, in particular, talk to me, sharing stories of where they've been, the women who made them, the tough times they've survived.

I found this old quilt recently - it was being sold quite cheaply because there was some damage to it, but I loved the colors and the pattern and took it home, hoping there would be enough to salvage.

Surprisingly, there was remarkably little damage - a few holes and worn spots, but mostly near the edges.  Some discoloration, but isn't that to be expected in something that's over 60 years old?  We should all be in this good a condition by that age!

The quilt sat for a week or two while I considered it.  I wanted to make a few stockings - I'm getting ready for the holidays in a big way, and though I'm not into  country the way I'm not into quilting, there's also something attractive about it, especially when you add in all the emotional baggage of the holidays; it seems right.

I thought it was a great way to indulge in some country-themed items without going full-on, over-the-top into cheesy country kitsch.

I've done the stockings two ways - one, with the "JOY" applique, because it wanted that appliqued on it.  The applique, and the reverse side of the stocking, are repurposed denim.

The second stocking is plain patchwork, with a denim reverse, and meant to be personalized.

After I finished a pile of stockings, I realized there was still quite a bit of undamaged quilt left.

That's when the bag bug kicked in.  I like hobo bags.  I like roomy bags that you can wear on your shoulder or cross body, with storage and pockets and a little cuteness to perk you up on a dreary day.

I decorated this bag with a jeans pocket on one side and an appliqued denim heart on the other.  Both sides had a few embellished pink roses.

The bag strap is made from the waistband of the same pair of jeans that gave up its pockets to the cause.

The bag is lined in a cheery mid-century-looking pink, yellow and green print, just to cut a little of the sweetness.

Somehow, there's still a pile of quilt left on my table.

More stockings?  More bags?  More . . . something.  I'll figure it out.

A little upcycling

So this is an Etsy shop/craft show piece, but I was so pleased with it I had to share it over here as well.

I got my hands on a vintage quilt recently, with the intent of making a few stockings out of it.  There was significant damage to some portions of the quilt, but when I spread it out, I found quite a few areas with no damage at all, or just minimal discoloration that could be covered by something . . .

Like a pocket.

I made a similar bag a while back from some quilt scraps I'd gotten at a sidewalk sale, but I'm even happier with this one.  The colors are really fresh considering the quilt's age (I think it's 1930s - 1940s by the prints and some of the damage), and the batting is still fluffy.  When I cut into the quilt, I could see that the batting was wool, and uneven in areas, so it may have come straight from the sheep, who knows?  I know Depression-era housewives certainly didn't head off to their local JoAnn's to pick up batting-in-a-bag.

The bag is made from the quilt, with two pockets from a pair of retired jeans, the waistband from the same pair of jeans, and a bit from the leg to make the inside panel.  Pink cotton print lining, a few pink flowers and it's ready for a new life.

Listing can be found here.

The Handbag Chronicles

Have you ever had an unusual source for your inspiration to create something?  I'm working on a series of bags right now inspired by my favorite series of novels, the Lymond Chronicles, by Dorothy Dunnett. Mario and I are reading them aloud in the evenings, a welcome break from TV, and although I've read them before (some of them multiple times), I'm still getting something new from the stories.

Set in Renaissance-era Europe, literally all over Europe, the stories are swashbuckling high adventure, romance, intrigue and much more.  Picture a cross between James Bond and Errol Flynn, with sword fights and scheming villains and all sorts of costumed fun. With detailed plots and dozens of characters, not to mention quotes in every language, they're not an easy read, but that's one more thing I like - I'm a fast reader, so I really appreciate a story that makes me slow down and savor.

All that being said (and hopefully I've sent some of you off to Amazon to look at the book descriptions in more detail), I've had a head full of Renaissance colors and design for the past few weeks, and it's apparently starting to leak out.

To top it off, a friend gave me a bag of clothes recently.  She pulled out one piece and said apologetically, "It's not old, but I thought it was pretty."  "It" was a black velvet flowered jacket with gold buttons, and "it" is well on its way to making history as several bags inspired by my favorite books.  Combined with black and dark red satin, some scraps of gold fabric, a load of vintage trim and some buttons, that not-so-little jacket will end up being at least four bags.

Vintage Quilt Hobo Bag

I bought two pieces of vintage quilt at a sidewalk sale recently.  The sellers said she'd purchased them  years ago with the intention of making something from them.  I took them home with the same idea in mind.

I knew they wanted to be a bag, but I couldn't decide how to best take advantage of the piecing.  There were a few "bald patches" in the quilt, and of course they were in prominent places.

The pieces got set aside to marinate, and the other night, when the bar down the street kept me awake, I went into the workroom and started in.  I don't necessarily recommend working when pissed off and sleep-deprived, but on the other hand, by the time it quieted down and I could finally get some sleep, this is what I had on my hands.

When I woke up the next morning, headachy, stiff and still quite annoyed at being kept from sleeping when I wanted to, I was almost afraid to go into the workroom and see what I had done.  I was so tired by the end that I literally didn't remember some of what I did, so this could have been really good or really awful.

I'm tending to think it's really good, but maybe I'm biased.  Or still delirious from lack of sleep.

Listing is here.

Very Interesting

When I first started my handmade Etsy shop, several sewing friends, Elizabeth among them, reminded me that I'd always said I'd never want to sew for a living because it would take all the pleasure out of it for me.

I stood reminded, and said that I remembered saying that, but I was going about this by not sewing the kinds of things that I enjoyed sewing for myself -- there would be no women's clothing in the shop, for example, and the bulk of it would be things I wouldn't have a use for and therefore wouldn't want to keep.

Except I've made several pieces of women's clothing for the shop now, and even sold one.  And I liked all of them.

And, worse yet, the other day I made something I'd really like to keep.  It's kind of strange, because it's totally not my normal style, but I really like it.  I also know that someone else will, which is why it's been listed anyway; it's not like I don't have enough bags of my own (made by me, for the most part), and I think this definitely has Etsy appeal.

I'm just trying to figure out why it appeals to me so strongly.  I think there's a weird subconscious thing going on with this one -- I knew when I found the quilt pieces I wanted to make a bag from them, but I thought it would be kind of kitschy/weird.  Then the other night, the bar at the corner was hopping and there were drunken couples fighting in the street under my window and the police weren't responding to noise complaints, so I got up and went into the workroom from midnight until nearly 3 a.m.  (Don't worry, no actual sewing occurred, other than some hand stitching.  I was tired and pissed off, but not stupid enough to rev up the machine at 2 a.m.)

By the end, I was so sleepy that I couldn't think straight.  I'd cut out the quilt bag,  complete with lining, strap, embellishments, pulled together the rings I wanted to use, and embroidered the denim appliques.

I also cut apart four old bags that haven't sold for two Christmases running, found zippers for them and recut them into new shapes and did all the pinning.

I found my idea notebook and drew out 4-5 sketches and a bunch of notes.  I went on the computer and drafted the Etsy listings for all my uncompleted work for the night.

When I fell into bed at 3 a.m., I was exhausted but happy, and when I got up the next day, it almost felt like the elves had been in the workroom but I literally couldn't remember doing half the work.  I even went on the computer later in the afternoon and drafted the Etsy listings for all the work I'd done the night before, and then realized that I'd done that already and completely forgotten.  I'd even used most of the same words in my descriptions, so apparently some part of my mind was functioning.

Just not a part I'm very familiar with.  Maybe I should try this sleep deprivation thing more often.  It's very productive, in a hallucinatory kind of way.

Bits and Pieces

Fronts of both pieces

Quite literally, that's what these are.

We were coming back from our weekly Saturday trip to the farmer's market -- peaches and string beans and mushrooms, oh my! -- and we happened upon a sidewalk sale.

This is not uncommon in my neighborhood, and I was happy to see that it was a house I'd stopped at before, and a woman whose craft materials seemed endless.

Today was no different.  I picked up a few pieces of vintage jewelry for my other Etsy shop, but my main focus was on these two pieces of patchwork quilt that she had rolled up on the table.  When I asked about them, she said that she'd bought them years ago, at a sidewalk sale, but had never gotten around to using them and felt guilty.

Backing of one piece; front of second piece

Let's just say I alleviated her guilt, and also lightened her table of a piece of blue and white cross-stitched trim that looked like it was from a kitchen curtain (it has coffee grinders, spoons, pitchers and teacups on it).  Not sure what I'm going to do with that yet, but these quilt pieces have announced loud and clear that they want to be turned into a hobo bag, preferably in combination with some faded denim to coordinate with the faded blue of the cotton.

We all know not to argue with the fabric, don't

More later, and hopefully a bag photo to post.