The Simple Things: A New Magazine

Exciting times, exciting times. The creators of Mollie Makes have put together a new magazine.

Doesn't it look lovely? You can have a sneak peak here.

At first glance you'd think that this was the sort of thing that Country Living would have cornered. Gardening, interiors, craft, vintage feel, lifestyle and so forth. But it's a bit more. Actually, a lot more. Rather than just going "ooh" and "aah" over beautiful products, houses and country estates The Simple Things gives you a sense of "oh, that's lovely / tasty and I could actually make that." And you do. How satisying.

What really caught my eye was the interview with Ned, a 78-year-old amateur gardener originally from the West Indies. There's nothing whizz bang or earth-shattering about Ned's gardening life, like a post modern rethink of Great Dixter. Yet the simplicity of his wisdom, gained through trial, error and the contrasts of the different challenges in English and Jamaican gardens, is captivating. 

I like this overlap of the generations in such a"young" publication. It seems there's often a fencing off between the old, middle-aged and young in magazines - be it craft or fashion - so you find super edgy publications versus the frumptastic. To have a more inclusive stance is really what life, learning, family and community is all about. No man is an island etc etc. And I mean that John Donne reference in a "we are defined by the generations that went before as well as the society that surrounds us now" rather than in a final, momento mori sort of way.

And my, don't they make everything look so pretty in The Simple Things. 

P.S. Stay tuned for more about Mollie Makes in the next month or so...

Charity Shop Bargains

Ooooh, how much do I love regional charity shops? Let me count the ways...

Whilst pottering about in Kenilworth the other week I popped into Oxfam and emerged with these delights.

For 3m of quality cotton and a retro pattern... *drum roll* ...

£10, people! 

 £10. In total!

A celebratory cup of tea was swiftly imbibed after bagging this bargain. 

Now it's just a case of fixing the pattern dial on my blasted Toyota sewing machine (gah) and finding the time to actually make something.

Hoopla Yarn

Defeated. Almost.  Let me explain…

Whilst pootling about on Ravelry a few months ago in a quest to find crochet  cardigan patterns that didn’t scream aged hippy, I came across this number:

THE GRANNY SHRUG, courtesy of Kirsty of Kootoyoo.

It’s essentially two granny square hexagons that one folds and joins along the back and the top of the sleeves. Use a chunky wool, a large crochet hook and away you go.  “Marvellous,” I thought, “summer’s coming so I’ll whip this up in a cotton in no time.” I had the yarn in mind. Hoopla Yarns are made from the selvedge of T-shirt jersey, the off-cuts that the garment industry would normally toss away. Socially, economically and environmentally conscientious, Hoopla eases many facets of bourgeois guilt. In addition, there’s a veritable cornucopia of colours to choose from and at a ginoromous1 cm in width this was the cotton answer to my granny hexagon cardigan.

And what ambitions I had for this cardie. I’d make it in an afternoon and sport it the next day. My magnificent cardigan and I would be the focus of fashion bloggers' attentions and the source of envious sighs amongst magazine editors the world over.

Anna Wintour eat your heart out.

Or so I thought. Having picked out two bobbins-worth of a stunning turquoisy green and armed with a 20mm crochet hook I began. About 5 rows in however it became apparent all was not well. A visitor’s query confirmed my suspicion: “Is that a tea cosy or a coaster you’re making?”

Clearly the drapey and light effect I had hoped for was not materialising. A couple more dogged rows later, I realized that this yarn was waaaayyyy to heavy for the pattern. Urgh. I frogged this miserable attempt and rewound the yarn about the bobbins and pondered.

And pondered.

Had a piece of cake and some tea.

And pondered before an almighty bolt of Divine Inspiration struck.

I would make a cushion cover with my Hoopla Yarn. A robust, greenish cushion cover that goes with absolutely NOTHING in my house, but a cushion cover nonetheless. In a sort of cake induced, almost Delphic reverie, I went out and purchased a feather-filled cushion pad around which I would craft a cushion cover without parallel.

And here’s the result.

Gawd awful, n’est pas?

There’s no denying it is without parallel. It is arguably an abomination of soft furnishing beyond compare.

The cushion pad is now in The Cupboard of Pending Projects, the Hoopla bobbins restored to an almost virgin state and the cushion cover is no more.

I finally visited the Hoopla Yarn website in the hope of finding a pattern. I wait patiently for a free one to come wending its way into my inbox. Such a virtuous and gloriously coloured yarn must not be stashed away for long and demands a suitably worthy design to show off its magnificence.

I’ll report back when I find such a design but if you want to help me on my way with suggestions, do feel free to tell me.

Until then, what’s the moral of the story? In two words: tension square