In the early, early days of this blog I found a crafter happy to eat cake, drink tea and answer a few questions I had regarding craft, creativity and the binding of generations and community through making. Nothing too weighty there then...
That crafter was Chloé Burrow of the Merry Bobbins. Today she's organising BUST Magazine's London Craftacular, this Sunday Dec 8, 12-6pm at Bethnal Greens' York Hall. I would expect nothing less of Miss Burrow to organise a Craft Fair of superlative quality and academic pedigree.
Craftacular at York Hall, Old Ford Road in Bethnal Green
Let me explain: one of BUST Magazine's founders is Debbie Stoller. Armed with a PhD in psychology 'twas she who articulated a way in which Feminism and traditional (read: oppressive) "feminine" pursuits e.g knitting, crochet and handicrafts et al could live happily together. You've heard of Stitch and Bitch, I presume? She's the woman who started it all, reassuring us that we didn't need to burn our knitting needles and reject generations' worth of skill and knowledge in order to be a Feminist.
And fortunately, if you want to be a modern-thinking woman who fancies taking up macramé, you don't need to burn your bra either. Relief all round methinks.
Anyhoo, appropriately BUST established a Craftacular in oh-so-hip Brooklyn yonks ago and luckily decided to set up shop in oh-so-hip-as-well-as-slightly-self-deprecating East London. This is a craft fair where some super smashing design talent - both established and new kids on the block - can show us all just how good they are. And we can purchase some Christmas Presents Beyond Compare for Our Loved Ones in one fell swoop. I do like that.
Cushions made out of vintage tea towels. YESSSSS.
Amongst the designers present will be famed types such as the Poet of Papercraft, Rob Ryan, whilst the marvellous Tatty Devine has given prizes for the raffle (more of which later) and delights in goody bags for ten lucky recipients. There will also be a space - the titillatingly punn'd BOOBTIQUE - for sustainable fashion as well as workshops led by the likes of Fabrications and Make, Thrift London.
Rob Ryan and the Shoreditch Sisters branch of the Women's Institute. Modernity, tradition and a papercraft guru all around one table. Only at Craftacular.
And there's a raffle. I do love a good raffle. There's the adrenalin-charged thrill of it. Good thing I'm not allowed near the gee-gees these days otherwise I'd be in penury. Fortunately, there's small chance of penury and a greater chance of a prize with Supermarket Sarah's BUST Craftacular Raffle draw. Click on through to buy your tickets here.
Oh, and there will be music. I don't get out much after 6pm these days, so any chance of daytime boppage is always gratefully received. Ideally something that's not too vigorous. Like medieval dancing.
Which leads me on to my final point... I'm going! See you there. I can't wait to see what Miss Burrow has waiting for us all.
It looks suitably retro and sweet. Perfect for a toddler. Ok, so the buttons are a bit wonky. I may have forgotten to use a larger needle when I bound off the ribbing on the cuffs so they're a bit tight. And the neckline has gone a bit loose and "hangy" (is there even such a word?) in recent days.
However, I put the hangy neckline down to the fact the cherub has been wearing said flufftastic cardigan almost nonstop since it was finished. Huzzah! How satisfying and timely considering we're due a frost-bitingly cold snap in the next day or so. A wintery autumnalness is coming.
What's also kinda fab is that fluffy mohair jumpers seem to be the thing amongst the local hipsters of Hackney so the cherub has unwittingly become a trendsetter.
My favourite unwitting hipster in all of the People's Republic of Hackney sporting the trendiest of fluffy knitwear.
Much to her un-trendy mother's amazement.
Long may her trendsetting in sensible woollen clothing continue, well into the teens and beyond. I've been observing the late teen antics of poor Miley Cyrus and the consternation her recent "twerking"* has caused. My biggest concern is that due to a lack of knitwear and - occasionally - even clothing, she must get terribly cold most of the time and probably lives in constant fear of catching 'flu or a kidney infection. I do hope my daughter will forever embrace the sensible path of warmth, for health reasons if not sartorial ones.
*On an aside, to emphasise my lack of trendiness I had to ask a chum recently (who is not a mother of a toddler and knows what's happening in contemporary popular culture) what this "twerking" is that people have been getting all het up about. Once it was explained, I was baffled. How exhausting it must be for all these young ladies to twerk when you could be having a cup of tea and knitting a cardigan instead.
Why twerk when you could watch a blocked cardigan dry instead?
I prefer Barry Cryer's definition in this week's I'm sorry I haven't a clueon Radio 4 (ah, Radio 4. The main reason I'm completely oblivious to what's happening in contemporary pop culture);
'Twerk: something that happens in Yorkshire between 9am and 5pm.
The topic? The drop spindle classes that Rachael Matthews teaches at her shop, Prick Your Finger in Bethnal Green.
Rachael Matthews
But what's a drop spindle? It's a pretty simple bit of kit that involves a couple of bits of wood and a hook or two. It turns fleece into yarn by a combination of gravity, rotation and a fair bit of hand-eye coordination. Here's a picture of a spindle doing its thing.
A drop spindle in action.
These beauties have been around for millenia and the yarn that women have produced has been woven, knitted and crocheted into all sorts of things.
On an aside, of course it's been women making the yarn. The drop spindle is the ideal thingamybob to pick up and put down in and amongst other responsibilities like children. Or cooking dinner. Or chatting with your chums. Or tending the sheep. It's about feel, technique and muscle memory rather than linear thought and intense focus. It's the perfect tool for a multitasker.
For the chaps who defined Antiquity, the drop spindle was probably not so useful a tool when out hunting things or doing battle with the neighbours. I mean, could you imagine Leonidas, king of Sparta - or even Gerard Butler for that matter - drafting a laceweight yarn in a manly way whilst glaring down the roaring hoards of yet another set of foes?
Nope. I didn't think so.
But back to the textiles made of these yarns. For centuries these textiles drove economies, created markets and forged transport networks that stretched across the Mediterranean world, Northern Europe, Asia and the Indian subcontinent. And may even have been amongst the economic and political factors that caused the wars in which the chaps were too busy to be drop spindling.
And imagine how these yarns helped define agricultural practices - "Whut? They
want more woolly jumpers in a part of the Antique world that I've never
heard of? We'd better farm a few more sheep then" - with the resulting
effect upon landscapes and the environment.
However, shuffling on from scantily-clad and worryingly oiled-up chaps of Antiquity, let's hop along to the Medieval period. This was when someone clever in China or maybe Iran or Iraq got all technical and created the spinning wheel. The wheel resulted in a considerable speeding up of the spinning process, a leap in efficiency that wouldn't find compare until the Industrial Revolution and the invention of the Spinning Jenny.
The Spinning Wheel. A technological leap in the production of yarn and a useful narrative tool for many a fairy tale.
From 1764 onwards spinning became more and more of a hobby with yarn and textile production turning into the preserve of factory production lines. The craft faded but was not entirely snuffed out. Today cool, hip groovy and arty types like Rachael are leading a revival. Look around and you'll find the most amazing range of dyed fleeces - have a peep at Porpoise Fur for some magnificent neon combos - to create bespoke yarns in any weight you desire. There's also something very therapeutic about the spinning wheel, for both body and soul. I'm not sure if it's the whirring of the wheel, the rhythm of your foot combined with the teasing out of the fleece but when it all comes together, you quickly find yourself reaching a meditative and contemplative space.
Oh, and you're making something. Which is always satisfying.
What is interesting is that spinners today encourage beginners to get to grips with a drop spindle first. If you can tease out the fleece - a technique known as "the draft" - at a decent enough pace to keep up with your rotating spindle and create an even yarn then you're set for a real spinning wheel.
So, a pretty simple bit of kit. But with profound economic and social impact.
Simple bit of kit. Profound implications for humanity.
The more I write about this woolly, textiley malarky the more worried I get that someday I might have to write another thesis about it all. A very interdisciplinary one that includes art, history, economics, development, agriculture, gender and social studies.
Yea gods.
On the plus side, there would be a lot of pretty pictures. So that's nice.
A spectrum of the yarns that Rachael and her colleagues spin on site at Prick Your Finger.
