12 January 2010

Out of the Linen Cupboard

I collect fabric. I only just realised this when I opened the hall cupboard last week and really noticed the teetering piles of material stacked up to the top. I'm working through it in stages, washing it all and even giving it a bit of an iron, as it was smelling on the musty side. I have taken great pleasure in hanging it up on the line, watching it billow around in the breeze, and (most unusually) ironing it while humming and feeling good about the world. Most of the fabric I have is old, retro or vintage. There are lots of kitchen-related pieces like teatowels and tablecloths. I never buy it with a plan, but am often taken over by a burning desire to have a particular pattern or colour. Just because. This year I have decided to learn how to sew properly and overcome my sewing phobia - a legacy of intermediate school, a mean teacher and one particularly botched pink gingham apron. Mum used to sigh at the sight of my hacked hems, held up with safety pins or tacked with giant crooked stitches. She did try to take the carnage in hand and teach me some kind of technique, but I was always too impatient and figured I could get away it if I hid the worst bits. So now that the linen cupboard is becoming ordered and beautified, maybe my transition to seamstress will be next...

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