what would mary say?

I seem to have been haunted recently by the voice of Mary Portas passing opinions or giving me advice on the way I dress! I quite like Mary Portas – she’s all the things I’m not; opinionated, straight talking, passionate about what she does and very stylish. So I watched Mary Queen of Frocks on 4-oD with great interest. Her mission to rescue women in their middle years from the joint perils of frumpiness or looking like a teenager is quite laudable and I’m sure the Mary range in House of Fraser will be a big success.
Despite being a “high street” brand though, it is still too expensive for many of us. I love new clothes and I love fashion, but I grew up in an era when you mostly had two or three of any garment – one on, one in the wash and one just in case. I’ve moved on from that point, obviously, but I still expect my clothes to work hard. I try not to buy things that I won’t be able to wear with several other things in my wardrobe and, generally speaking, I continue to wear things for quite a long time. I realised today that one of the long sleeved V neck tops that comes out as the weather gets colder as a layering piece (see, I know the jargon!) is 19 years old, but that is a venerable exception. Five or six years is not unusual, though, so of course it is impossible to be at the cutting edge of fashion (as if!).
I don’t need “office” clothes any more and my day to day dressing is more often than not jeans, a loose top and a cardi. Yet I don’t want to give up all aspiration to dressing with a bit of style; there’s no doubt that knowing that I’m dressed well can boost my confidence and lift my mood. It’s nice to have a few things in the cupboard for special occasions or just because I fancy dressing up a bit.



Meanwhile I can just dream about being tall and slim with coat hanger shoulders, sailing up an escalator in my gorgeous understated clothes with my elbows akimbo, taking space in the world!

UFOs

Most knitters/quilters/embroiderers will confess to a couple of UnFinished Objects in their work basket. Some are abandoned happily, others we’re always meaning to get back to. My daughter Ruth and I recently had the experience of picking up someone else’s UFO and bringing it to fruition.
In one of those convoluted six-degrees-of-separation ways we were put in touch with someone we already knew who was looking for a quilter to complete a quilt for his mother. His mother is very elderly and ill and he had come across a quilt she had started some years ago and thought it would be good to get it finished.

What Ruth and I were presented with turned out to be eleven completed square blocks which had been constructed in a variety of hand-sewn methods and quite a bit of spare fabric. We were given free rein to get on with it as we saw fit. It seemed important to us to use what we had been given as simply as possible and not get fancy with it. After some initial consultation we made our decisions surprisingly quickly and became a sort of quilting tag team.



Ruth created one more square based on some partially assembled scraps. I finished off the sashing borders around each square. Thus far we stuck with the hand sewing, but knew that we would have to get out the machines to finish it within a reasonable time.

I put the squares together and assembled the quilt top by machine. Then Ruth took on the assembly of a backing piece using a variety of fabrics from the work basket.

She added a binding strip and, using some quilt wadding from my stash, pinned together the quilt sandwich. I took it back and spent a couple of evenings hand-quilting very simply along the seam lines of the squares. I hand-stitched the binding fabric to finish the quilt. The finished article is about the right size for a cot.

In all it took us about a fortnight to finish - much quicker than we would have been working alone! We both enjoyed the process, delighting in the sense of continuity with another needle-woman. It was such fun to rummage through someone else’s workbasket (finding a couple of other UFOs in the process).

We were both also pretty anxious about taking liberties with someone else’s work. We had no idea what the original plan had been and worried that the lady in question might feel affronted by some of the decisions we had taken. Thankfully this proved not to be the case. I was taken to meet her and deliver the quilt on a day when she was feeling reasonably well and visiting neighbours for coffee. The quilt soon became the focus of conversation and memory as she pointed out some of the fabrics which had originally been used in her children’s clothing. I have heard since that the project is still proving a successful talking point in the family.

It makes me wonder what unfinished items will be hanging around in my work-basket when I die.
(I didn’t take work-in-progress photos I’m afraid, so what you see is the finished quilt in all its squidgy, lumpy glory – very difficult to photograph)

wanna sing with a live band?

Well no, I really, really don't want to, but on the other hand one of the things I have started doing since I retired is singing with a community choir. Community choirs are popular these days and some, like the wonderful Gasworks Choir, have waiting lists. I would normally have been very reticent about joining a choir. I’m one of those people who have never felt I was able to sing.
This choir is different though. It started as an arts initiative by our local GP Practice who had funding for a whole series of “Never Too Late To Create” workshops. The participants were mainly older patients with mental health problems and/or chronic illness. One of the GPs who was closely involved with the groups has noted that the music/singing groups were especially popular and that involvement with singing appeared to increase self-confidence, produced improvements in mood and helped people to socialise with others and build supportive friendships. Since the NTLTC funding finished the choir has evolved into an independent group (the Big Friendly Choir), which is open (and free) to all regardless of health/age/ability. I was encouraged to join by a friend who was already a member.
I have come to really enjoy and value my Thursday morning sing! Our musical director, Mark Lawrence, is wonderfully encouraging and inclusive, and draws performances from us that we didn’t know we were capable of. There are one or two very talented singers with lovely voices who can sing harmonies, but the majority of us (like me) only feel safe singing with others. When I first joined I didn’t realise that public performance would be part of the deal and was acutely embarrassed at the prospect. I am still not confident about my own singing but have come to see that it’s about the group and what we can achieve together. We normally have a modest end of term concert in a cafe/gallery, but have also sung in a residential home; as part of the local Arts Trail; and at Bristol Central Library. In December we will be singing for the pleasure(!) of shoppers in Asda, with a group of children’s choirs in St George’s, Bristol and at the Central Library once more.
Most choirs charge their members a (sometimes substantial) fee, but this one is free and because of that we are regularly looking for funding. At the moment we have enough in the kitty to take us to Christmas and are awaiting the outcome of two funding applications. It seems that one of the things that I see as the choir’s greatest advantages – the fact that it is open to everyone – can be a disadvantage when applying for funds. If it were just for older people, or just for people with long-term health problems there would be a definite “peg” to hang it on, but the fact that we are a mixed group who have come together and formed a choral relationship regardless of problems seems to put us in a special category. There are people in the choir who could probably afford to pay for their sessions, but it would be invidious to create a sort of two-tier membership. This will be an ongoing situation for us, so if you know any funders/charities who might consider supporting us let me know!
We were recently recorded at one of our regular Thursday rehearsals singing a four-part round of This Old Freedom Train and published on YouTube!

habit forming

It’s over three months since my last post. I’m very much more a blog reader than a blogger, but that is all about to change! I have been alerted in one of the blogs I read to the fact that November is National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). She also points out the oft-quoted “fact” that it only takes thirty repetitions to create a new habit (to be honest that’s never worked for me where exercise is concerned). But, having been conscious of my lack of blogitivity of late, I decided I am up for the challenge.
I do often have thoughts about a blog post running around my head – just as I often mentally draft letters or emails to friends, but don’t get round to sending them. Putting it all into practice is the big thing though and if the commitment is just for a month maybe I can do it and renew my blogging mojo.
One of the things that often keeps me from blogging is lack of illustrations. I’m not a person who photographs life as I go along, and so many of the blogs I visit have truly beautiful photos on them that I can feel a little intimidated. A post like this one is particularly hard to illustrate – nothing that I’ve made/or eaten/or seen to show off. Having trawled my photo archive I’ve chosen to illustrate the habit that comes easily to me and needs little or no reinforcement!
The question now is will I be able to think of something to say every day, and will it be interesting? Probably not – but only time will tell.

finished!

Finally, my "vintage" quilt is finished.

I am pleased. It's not a perfect piece of quilt-making by any stretch of the imagination, but I think the overall impression is pleasing and I'm happy with the layout and fabrics. After I had bought the vintage bundles in St Ives I had some doubts and felt I'd been overtaken by holiday fever and the need to buy something; they seemed a bit dull and dated. After I chopped them up and added the plain central squares from my stash it started to work though, and I was especially pleased by the addition of the turquoise fabric, which just seemed to lift the whole thing and give it a bit of zing.

The backing is an old duvet cover which had ripped and has been dyed in cold water dye.

I still need to get to grips with machine quilting. I don't seem to be able to avoid creasing and puckering of the backing fabric.

Still, overall I'm happy and felt confident enough to take it to the village fete-style, 'Best of Malago' at tonight's WI meeting.

summer at the rwa - and a miscalculation

We recently went (on the recommendation of a friend ) to the exhibition of Robert Lenkiewicz’s work at the Royal West of England Academy (RWA). We were very impressed by the work (and life) of this art world “outsider” with its big themes, such as mental handicap and vagrancy; and despite my initial misgivings I was very moved by the display of an embalmed body as part of the exhibition.
Before that it had probably been more than a year since I was last at the RWA. It seems that it is re-inventing itself somewhat, with a new cafe and refurbishment plans to improve storage of the collection amongst other things. The list of exhibitions for the summer season – Mary Fedden, Lisa Milroy, Elisabeth Frink, Damien Hirst, Jack Vettriano – looked inviting. Mostly quite safe, tried and tested stuff - apart from the Vettriano, which has caused something of a kerfuffle in RWA circles and led to the president resigning. Vettriano has long been the focus of a “critics-versus-the-people” stand-off and he is used to the fuss. In an interview on the local news last week he expressed himself delighted to be showing in a large public gallery and remarked that all the critical vilification just brings people in to see for themselves.

Indeed. I went along on Friday to see what all the fuss is about. I went with a (relatively) open mind having only ever seen reproductions of JV’s work. I have to say that on this occasion I am on the side of the critics. His work is technically fine and he certainly has his own style, but somehow it fails to inspire. What hadn’t been trumpeted in the press is that it’s a tandem show, pairing his paintings with the ballroom dance photographs of Jeanette Jones. I found her black and white images far more entrancing and evocative than the paintings.



I also loved the Lisa Milroy exhibition based on Japanese woodblock engraving and particularly liked her witty and affectionate portrayal of geishas. The small Frink exhibition and the “Up from the Country” two-hander from Neil Murison and Peter Murphy were also worth seeing as is Damien Hirst’s vast statue of Charity.

However, the work that I really wanted to see – Mary Fedden’s Celebration – was nowhere to be found! It turned out that I managed to arrive on one of the few days it wasn’t on show because it’s being moved from the main gallery where JV is now showing to the side gallery where “Up from the Country” is just finishing. How confusing. Oh well, I’ll just have to go again, and as I’m hoping that our friend Maggie will be visiting in August for some arty play that will be the perfect opportunity.

While I was there I visited the new cafe (of course!) which has been opened by local cafe/deli people Papadeli. I only had a cup of coffee, but the food all looked delicious and the room (reclaimed from one of the small ground floor gallery spaces) was calm and cool. As I stood at the service counter waiting for my drink, however, I couldn’t escape from the knowledge that I was standing where the ladies loos used to be! I can understand why they’ve kept the old crazed cream ceramic tiles; it fits the shabby-chic, old school feel, but unfortunately one can still clearly see where basins and hand-dryers have been removed from the walls and patched with brownish filler. Not the best bit of making good I’ve ever seen.

Still that’s an amused observation rather than a gripe. I enjoyed my visit and combined it with a fruitful, but sad, visit to Habitat’s closing down sale.

invisible

I had a funny conversation with one of my daughters recently when I told her that during my first pregnancy I went from my office to the local shop each day and bought myself a pork pie and a tomato for my lunch – and that in fact on some days I went more than once (pork pies didn’t have quite such a reputation as a “bad food” in those days). She was surprised that I didn’t find it embarrassing that the shop staff would notice my heavy consumption of pork pies, but in fact it had never occurred to me that anyone would have noticed. I just made my transaction and left without any conversation to draw attention to myself, so assumed that I was invisible. I have suffered from this sense of invisibility all my life. I never expect people to recognise me when I meet them again.

It’s a commonly held view that after a certain age women become “invisible” and in some respects this may be true, but I have noticed over recent years that people in the street are much more likely to greet me with a smile. I think this has a lot to do with me looking more approachable as I get older. As an intensely shy young woman I think I probably gave the impression of being rather aloof and unfriendly, as I walked briskly along trying to look “cool” with my cheeks sucked in, my nose in the air and afraid to make eye contact with anyone. These days I wander around with a slightly bemused half smile and am reaping the benefit in smiles from strangers. I have started consciously allowing myself to make eye contact with people because I no longer fear that it will be misunderstood as anything except friendliness.

I even have conversations with people in shops! It's always possible that I'm creating a new impression as a crazy person (and my increasing deafness can certainly lead to some odd non sequiturs), but actually I'm enjoying the human contact, so I don't much care.

Er, that's Ruth my oldest daughter, not some random stranger!