There are three places where I cannot control myself: bookstores, music stores and fabric stores. Upon entering any one of these little shangri-las, I am immediately enraptured and enslaved - drooling and compelled to spend all kinds of money I don't have. (And yet, there's a strange little plastic card in my wallet that tells me the sweet lies I'm dying to hear. "Go on" it says, "you have the money". I try to fight: "But it's not real, actual money," I insist, "I really shouldn't." Then the little card gives me a wink and whispers those three deliciously evil words: "It's real enough".) These places embody the promise of something beautiful, something urgent and necessary that I haven't yet experienced, something that will make my life complete. They are the aesthete's crack. My solution is simply to avoid these places altogether. After all, I have books that I haven't yet read, cds I've barely listened to, and yards upon yards of untouched fabric; I don't need more. But every once in a while, an opportunity arises that is too tempting. Enter Marlene, Fabric Siren.
Marlene is from Montreal but lives in England. Her 93-year-old mother died recently, so Marlene is here selling her mother's house and belongings, and because her mother used to make clothing, there are entire trunks and boxes of vintage fabric in the house. A few weeks back, Marlene heard me interviewed on the CBC for a radio piece about selling handmade items online, looked up my blog and contacted me to see if I'd be interested in buying some of the fabric.
Interested?? Heaps of beautiful vintage lace, silk, cotton; I think you can guess how it all went down. She very sweetly made me hot chocolate, opened the magic trunks, and gave me an incredibly good deal; I left that sweet little house loaded down with bags of embroidered dreams. Maybe I don't need it, but I'm so grateful to have it. It's all of beautiful quality, and I love that it has a history. Vintage fabric just feels different, both in the tactile and the woowoo senses of the word. I think it will be perfect for the batch of Alice dolls in my head, demanding to be born.
(I'll post the interview, even though I sound like a man who's just woken up from a nap: Download Cbc interview)
Also a big thank you to everyone who attended and/ or commented on my recent shop update - I truly appreciate your support! Thirteen of the little ladies were gone within two hours, which was heartwarming to see. I just have to keep them from getting big heads - dolls are, by nature, quite vain.