On Fashion & Making

This BBC article, Why are Women Finally Designing Women's Clothes, makes me so damn angry. I will give you a few choice quotes.

"Of course there are many more gay male designers," [designer Tom Ford] said. "I think we are more objective. We don't come with the baggage of hating certain parts of our bodies."

"Designers are normally men. I don't know of an eminent motorcar or motorbike designer who was a woman. Or many female architects." It's not because of any lack of ability but because women aren't as "pushy" - designer Jeff Banks

Men like Lagerfeld, McQueen and Galliano were defined by the need to be spectacular, unlike the "self-effacing" [Sarah] Burton, who has won great acclaim since replacing McQueen (..)  "Men put on great shows. Women design clothes that people want to wear" - fashion editor Lisa Armstrong

Mmm, makes you wonder why they want to make us clothes in the first place, doesn't it? Or maybe that explains the clothes we get? Don't you just love the implied sneer at the idea of 'wearable clothes'?

I believe the handmade movement can offer a useful counterpoint to the fashion world's often misogynistic view of women. Handmade clothes can be stunningly beautiful, full of showmanship, flattering to the female form, and within reach.

Female entrepreneurs like Sarai of Colette Patterns and Ysolda Teague are not just examples of young women setting up their own businesses, but also of women giving other women the chance to reject token notions of female beauty and the confinements of the high street/runway by making our own clothes. Locally I see the Glasgow Craft Mafia leading with a strong, clear voice that makes my heart sing: independent small shops abound where you can buy handmade clothes designed and stitched by female designers.  Craft Mafias exist throughout the globe and I recommend you seeking them out if you want to get involved or are simply interested in learning more.

I find that the more interested I become in fashion, the more I find it imperative to question it. Making parts of my own wardrobe (and hoping to create larger and larger chunks of it as I improve as a sewer) continues to be an important part of this questioning.

Cakes & Books

When I asked my Twitter and Facebook pals about their favourite cakes, I was not prepared for the deluge of replies. Everybody has an opinion on cake, apparently. Who knew? I have a handful of go-to cakes - the classic pound cake, upside-down caramel & pear spiced cake, lemon & raspberry meringue, Danish 'dream cake', and (the latest addition) chocolate and beetroot cake - but am always interested in expanding my repertoire. My good friend Liz makes a stunning, but super-easy, 'medieval' apple tart as well as the best lemon drizzle cake I have ever tasted. I need to try making both of those cakes. I have also sampled a take on Nigella's chocolate/guinness cake which I'd be interested in tweaking a tiny bit.

Here's a recipe for one of my cakes. It is not vegan, it is not gluten-free, and it is not healthy - I'm not one of those bloggers (and I'm also not a food stylist as you can tell from the photo) - but it is really tasty.

Upside-down caramel & pear cake

60 g butter 100 g brown sugar (you can use either light or dark depending upon how you feel about strong flavours) 4 pears (or apples - you can use either) --- 125 g plain flour ½ tsp baking powder 2 tsp ground ginger pinch of salt pinch of ground cloves pinch of grated nutmeg pinch of ground cinnamon 75 g dark treacle (use honey or syrup if you don't like strong flavours) 1 egg, beaten lightly 125 g brown sugar (you can use either light or dark depending upon how you feel about strong flavours) 60g butter 125 ml milk --- butter for greasing the pan

Preheat oven to 175C/350F.

Prep the pears by pealing them, removing the grit and dividing them into quarters. Place them neatly in the greased cake tin. Melt sugar and butter in a saucepan. Watch the mixture closely as it'll turn to sticky, HOT caramel and you don't want to burn it (or yourself). Pour the caramel mixture on top of the pears.

Sift together the dry ingredients in a large bowl: flour, baking powder, salt and spices. Mix the wet ingredients in another bowl: beaten egg, treacle, sugar, butter, and milk. Combine the wet & dry ingredients and beat until the mixture is smooth.

Pour the battern on top of the pears and bake for approx 45 minutes. Test the centre of the cake with a knitting needle or other sharp, pointy implement. The needle should come out of the cake without anything sticking to it.

This cake is extra good the next day. I'd usually serve it with honey-laced Greek yoghurt or creme fraiche, but it is also very good on its own.

-- My baking soundtrack was courtesy of local indie pop band, Belle & Sebastian. If you ever wonder about my neighbourhood, go watch all their videos as they like to film them here in Glasgow's West End. This one, Wrapped Up in Books, was filmed in Caledonia Books just down the road from me. I sometimes worry that my life has become one long Belle & Sebastian video: bookish, arty girl wearing retro clothes around the West End and looking a bit twee in her handknits. Hmmm... worse things could happen.

The End of an Era

It is no secret that I love hanging out at Auntie M's Cake Lounge. Sadly it is the end of an era for a place that quickly became a West End classic with its effortless style, delicious homebaked goods and witty banter. However, as befits its spirit, Auntie M is closing with a cake buffet and a week-long vintage craft supplies sale.

Pictured: lemon layer cake, chocolate pound cake, peanut butter & chocolate cake, spice cake, banana cake, bakewell tarts, victoria sponge cupcakes, maltesers cake, coconut cake, orange cupcakes, coffee & caramel cupcake, mint meringues, lemon meringue cupcakes, chocolate cherry cupcakes and more.

Other Half managed five slices of cake plus 3 cupcakes. Sadly I wasn't far behind.

The vintage craft supplies sale is running for an entire week. If you are in Glasgow, I really urge you to go have a look.

This is the fabric table full of vintage fabrics (remnants were underneath the table). Other tables had cross-stitch kits, trimmings, zips, notions, knitting patterns, buttons etc. You could even pick up a bargain sewing machine if you were so inclined.

I bought a metre of really cute robin's egg-blue cotton with dancing mice - not my usual style, but rather fabulous all the same. I can see this working as a very cool quilt back.

And I bought some fantastic vintage knitting patterns. 75p each!

From the left: a very pretty 3ply jumper with a very intricate lace pattern and unusual crochet edgings; a 3ply cardigan with a lovely lace & bobble stitch pattern; and finally a spectacular cardigan with colourwork panels and reindeer intarsia panels. I fell in love immediately. The instructions are horrific though, as the reindeers are not charted but are written out stitch-by-stitch. I was chanting in my head: I love charts, I love charts, I love charts..

I shall miss Auntie M's a huge amount. It became a home-away-from-home of sorts and I shall especially miss the sparkling banter (and the lemon drizzle cake). On the other hand, my waistline is rather thankful that you are closing.

Thank you for everything, Michelle and Sam. It has been an absolute blast.

Swings & Roundabouts

This was supposed to be my first step into autumn knitting. "Grab some lovely yellow yarn (sure to brighten up the dreich days of Scotland) and whip up some quick wrist warmers". That was my plan last night and I felt quite pleased with myself when I found a very suitable pattern on Ravelry. Except I have now spent more time rewriting the pattern than I would have spent designing and writing my own pattern. Sometimes you get what you pay for with free patterns:

• spelling mistakes to the point of rendering the pattern incomprehensible
• using wrong terminology to explain specific actions (CB4/C4B clearly means something different to the designer than it does to me)
• Instructions that look like short row instructions - except there are no short rows in the pattern
• And if you follow the pattern you end up with a fingerless glove which looks very weird on my hand (the thumb goes where?)

Maybe I am the odd one as a handful of people have knitted these gloves and they all loooove the pattern? Or maybe they are best friends with the designer? I'm in a very cynical mood today. The lone glove is going to the frog pond to die and I am going to find a tried-and-tested pattern (at least 100 projects) for my autumn knitting.

Grumble.

But lovely, lovely things happen too. Look what landed on my doorstep yesterday!

Ms Mooncalf had run out of wool for a current project and I just happened to have ½ a ball of the right yarn in the right colour.

One swap later and I have the pincushion I so desperately need for my dress-making adventures - handmade and in my favourite colours! - and she even included some gorgeous coasters too. Bless her, Casa Bookish is not a household that uses coasters but I shall think of a way to put them to good use.

Thank you very much, dear swap partner!

Some Thoughts About Yarn

A long time ago I wrote about books. I remember one specific thing I wrote: how I built my library on the ideas of possibility and potential. My books were purchased because I wanted the possibility of spending a heady afternoon with lord Byron or a quiet, thoughtful evening with AS Byatt. Often I wanted the potential read more than I wanted the actual read. I think the same thing goes for yarn. The other evening I saw a moth fly out of the yarn cupboard. A tiny, beige creature of winged doom. I opened a bag and saw another moth perched on a ball of yarn. Gasp, splutter, this-only-happens-to-others, and I flung the offending bag into the freezer. I subsequently started rummaging through my other bags and only spotted one other bag with potential destruction (i.e. one very dead little beige monster). A bit of a wake-up call. This does not just happen to other knitters.

Luckily our local supermarket has a deal on plastic containers with lids. I bought three huge ones and started to re-pack all my yarn. It was time for another wake-up call. Three containers only scratched the surface of my yarn stash. I need eight more containers if I need to keep all of my yarn safe from moths (or the scourge of Glasgow tenements, carpet beetles). Eight. Eight.

I had to sit down on the (yarn-covered) floor for a moment. Deep breath.

The thing is, I have some lovely yarn in my stash that I cannot wait to knit. I have earmarked some of it for projects: Flyte, Shirley, Acer, Snapdragon, Miette, Still, Topstykke, and - oh - those thirty odd shawls I need to design. You know.

But the majority of the yarn is there because of the possible, potential projects. What to make with my three hanks of Noro Cashmere Island? Or the two hanks of Sirritogv Colour? Or the yak laceweight? The mountain of Kidsilk Haze? Often I think I want the potential knit more than I want the actual finished object.

When I moved across the North Sea, I had to get rid of most of my books. I marked them with tiny stickers. Red: We’re through. Yellow: we need to talk. Green: we’ll be together forever. Eventually I got rid of the reds and yellows (freecycle was useful). It felt like such a relief. A millstone removed. But six years later, I can still see the gaps, the ghosts. I still reach for books I no longer own.

I wonder how I will deal with my yarn stash in years to come.

The Week That Was

Last weekend I took part in a crochet workshop taught by designer and author Carol Meldrum. Carol was running a class called "Love Wool? Love Crochet!" to celebrate Wool Week 2011 and to promote her new book, Love Crochet. I wasn't able to stay for the entire workshop, but I have been bitten by the crochet bug ever since. Following Carol's pattern (from an old Rowan magazine), I made a necklace from some mercerised cotton and a leather string. It was super-easy and very quick. I think it took me about an hour from the initial idea to the finished object. The leather string's a bit too skinny, but I'm still quite pleased with the result.

My partner snapped a photo of me wearing the necklace that very evening. I do apologise for lack of make-up/styling and the crap indoors lightning, but you can clearly see how smug I am about my lovely new accessory.

In other crafting news, I have purchased some black corduroy and I am very excited about making another skirt. I have a very, very specific idea for this skirt. I'll need to try my idea first, though, as it could be a complete disaster. I tried googling my idea but everything I find is twee crap. I am many things, but I am not twee.

This week I have been grabbling with Apple as someone in Canada has set up an account using my email address as her AppleID. Personally I would have thought that Apple have checked that her email was her own, but apparently not. I am currently on my fourth (rather terse) email to Customer Support. I am not impressed. Definitely not impressed.

This week Something Very Good happened. Denmark finally decided that they had had enough of xenophobic party Danish People's Party being the kingmaker in Danish politics. Cue Denmark's first female prime minister.  The DPP played a part in me deciding to leave Denmark and when I heard they were not longer the power behind the throne, I shed a small tear. I cannot begin to express my relief - although I think it will take a lot of time to undo their damage (Denmark has some of the strictest immigration laws in Europe and you encounter casual racism everywhere).

The Danish essayist Carsten Jensen wrote an excellent column (google translate + tweaked quickly by me). I do not agree with everything he wrote, but this passage really struck a nerve.

Something went terribly wrong in Denmark during the past decade. We did not just damage the foreigners who found themselves among us, whether they were refugees or immigrants and their descendants. We did not just damage the countries whose domestic problems became ours thanks to reckless wars.We also did moral damage to ourselves, and the marginal, ambiguous election victory of the Left shows a lack of willingness to confront ourselves - something which we must inevitably must do, if we are to forge ahead and not only think about growth, but also morality and humanity. We have toyed with callousness too long, and this has left an unhealthy cynicism within us.

Here is to better times.