Tigris and other mid-century ceramics

Given my very large collections of vintage clothing and tin robots, I do try not to get into collecting things only for the sake of it – I just don't have space to store much more stuff and I do like to use everything I own.

However, I have had a passing interest in mid-century ceramics for some time, but I do resist buying them… usually.

I particularly like the 1960s designs for Swedish manufacturer Rorstrand by Marianne Westman, especially the "My Garden" pattern (featuring fish, not gardens for some strange reason), which is rarely seen.

Recently I came across this 1950s ceramic cat vase, in perfect condition, and bought it intending to sell it on. After a very short time it had charmed its way into my affections and I decided to keep it.

Stamped on the base only with an unhelpful "Foreign", some research led me on a wild goose chase through Italian and Swedish ceramics and eventually to its unmistakeable origins: Schmider, a West German ceramics manufacturer, in the Tigris pattern designed by Anneliese Beckh.

I enjoyed this little research trip and I discovered some lovely things along the way. I can see how this could so very easily become a new collecting fad, but I am going to try hard to resist it. At least vintage clothes don't need dusting!

Inspirational fashion illustration

I had a very cultural, if freezing cold, day last week visiting not one but three fashion-based exhibitions in London. Firstly, at somerset House, the fabulous and very influential René Gruau http://www.somersethouse.org.uk/fashion/dior/default.asp then Matthew Williamson in the same building.

Over to Shad Thames to the Design Museum for the very comprehensive and well-presented http://designmuseum.org/exhibitions/2010/2010-drawing-fashion showcasing work from Paul Poiret to the present day. I particularly liked the work of Mats Gustavson and the resurgence in printmaking in amongst all the current digital artwork.

One girl's trash is another girl's treasure

At my regular visit to the fleamarket this morning one of the traders saw me looking at this old leather bag and just gave me it!

The outside of the bag is in very good condition but there had been two internal dividers sewn in and one had been removed, causing the bag to start to fall apart. My sewing machine isn't up to sewing leather but, as all the holes are there, it just took half an hour, some careful hand-sewing, a bit of glue and the use of a bulldog clip as a little clamp and it's repaired!

I suppose a lot of things that have come my way have been dumped because they needed repairs. Last year a friend gave me a large bag of 1940s and 1950s clothes from her mother to sell on eBay. As the repairs got more and more major, I finally realised it was her mending bag and it had been in the cupboard, waiting to be tackled for so many years she'd forgotten what it was!

Why make one when you could make two?

When I was kid my mother used to make most of my clothes. As she always bought too much fabric (just to be on the safe side, eh?) she never made just one thing, and I think I've absorbed that habit.

The yellow cushion was made with leftovers and still I managed to eke it out to make a little bag. I bough this 1970s print skirt at the fleamarket and with the fabric I cut off when I shortened it, I was able to make a belt and use a buckle I've been saving for years.

January 1961 in Australia: Off-Beat Clothes to Beat the Heat

http://www.naa.gov.au/whats-on/online/find-of-the-month/past-years/2008/october.aspx

Look at Life series

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBq7icqGxB4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B92MnoPVtGs

My little tweedy pie

Apparently, rules are meant to be broken. Today I have broken several vintage clothing "rules" and all in connection with one item.

Saw an overpriced, moth-eaten, stained tweed piper's jacket at the fleamarket this morning. My market companion looked wordless askance at the manky garment I waved in front of her, but I was smitten. Fitted shape reminiscent of Vivienne Westwood (are you SURE this is a man's jacket?), beautiful cuffs with raised darted details, complete set of original horn buttons, pocket flaps set just so on the hips, two back vents and the most lovely colour.

If pieces of vintage clothing have a history then this had been in a fight at a wedding (where its owner was playing the bagpipes), in the course of which it got blood on it and the sleeve lining tore, and has been but away for moths to feast on ever since.

On inspection, I discovered more and more moth damage, no matter: hey, I can sew, I can darn. Quiet words with the seller secured a hefty discount. Stains (blood?) on the lovely duck-egg blue tweed fabric an awful lot more difficult: so it's in the washing machine (aaagh!)

Golden rule: never wash a jacket - if the fabric doesn't shrink the interfacings will, it will go horribly out of shape and the colour will run - but I HAD to, dear reader. Although the remedy for moths is to put the garment in the freezer, mine is too small and too full of Quorn - yes really - Quorn mince, Quorn pieces... So it's in there on the cold woollen cycle with baby shampoo instead of detergent and my fingers are crossed.

I did do one thing right: I darned the holes before washing it. If you don't do this, a hole you could get the point of a pencil through beforehand you can get your head though afterwards. I might be looking at a mangled wreck of shrunken, bleeding, felted tweed in half an hour, but at least there won't be any holes in it.

P.S. Readers, it worked! One of my most successful salvage operations. I only wish I had taken some "before" photos to go with these "after" ones…